When designing an adventure for a
role-playing game, it is sometimes useful to consider not only what is
happening in the fictive milieu, but also what is happening at the table. By this I mean that the adventure designer
should not only consider what the player characters are likely to do,
but also what the players themselves are likely to do.
This may seem counter-intuitive, but bear
with me.
From the standpoint of the players, they
are assembled not only to take on the roles of fictional persons in a fantasy
milieu, but also to play (and win) a game. And, make no mistake, even if role-playing
games have no preset “win conditions”, each player at the table has some idea
at the end of any session whether or not he has done well or done poorly. Players in role-playing games set their own
win conditions.
In order to meet these win conditions,
players develop meta-strategies. By this
I mean that, in addition to the strategies employed by the characters
themselves, based upon the fictive milieu, players employ strategies based upon
the meta-knowledge that the fictive milieu is a game. This is both expected and encouraged by every
“player advice” section of every game book ever written. As a Game Master, you should not actively
discourage this. However, you should play
with it and make it part of the game.
Every example hereafter is going to contain
SPOILERS for one or more published adventures, so if you are a player, do
yourself a favour and quit reading now.
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Okay, still here? Let’s take a look at some expectations that tabletop
players have. To wit:
(1) Players tend to expect that open
communication amongst themselves is always possible.
(2) Players tend to expect that characters
are interchangeable.
(3) Players tend to expect that they can
accept or reject additions made by the GM to their backstories.
(4) Players tend to expect that seating
arrangements at the table don’t matter.
(5) Players tend to expect that they are
working together towards a common goal.
(6) Players tend to expect that they know
the rules under which they are operating.
I am sure that you can think of more
without trying all that hard. In fact,
if you examine the earliest adventure modules available from the hobby, you
will see that adventure writers began confounding some of these expectations early
on.
(1) Players tend to expect that open
communication amongst themselves is always possible.
Gary Gygax’s excellent The Keep on the Borderlands
suggested that the DM assume that the characters say anything said by the
players, and to react accordingly. That
is not practical for many people’s tables.
But what if an adventure forces the characters to remain silent? What if transmitting certain information is
dangerous, as in James Raggi’s also excellent Death Frost Doom? Limiting inter-player communication – and, as
a result, inter-character communication – forces the players to sit up and take
notice.
(2) Players tend to expect that
characters are interchangeable.
There is an expectation that the character
class and/or race chosen (or other criteria in other games) will not matter…the
GM will simply make it work. But what if
a particular location adds undue hardships to some characters, but not to
others? What if it grants some
characters bonuses? What if a
traditional power that a particular character class relies upon is all but
useless? What if an area exploits a
character type’s weaknesses?
Note that you want to even this out; if you
make combat less viable in one scenario, you should even it out by making
combat more viable in another. This is
what some of the so-called “gotcha” monsters were all about – a fighter could
not typically rely upon brute strength when facing a rust monster, and casting
spells at some jellies is just asking for trouble.
For example, both The Arwich Grinder and Silent
Nightfall make use of the Dungeon Crawl Classics elf’s vulnerability
to iron. The Folk of Osmon turns a
dwarf’s ability to smell gold into a problem.
Another way to deal with this assumption is
to grant treasures that cannot be passed on; they become intrinsic to the
character. This idea is used in
different ways in Prince Charming, Reanimator and The Seven Deadly Skills of Sir
Amoral the Misbegotten.
(3) Players tend to expect that they
can accept or reject additions made by the GM to their backstories.
And they should be able to do so…but you,
as the GM, should also consider what happens when they reject a backstory
element. The results should not always
be so pleasant as accepting it. An
example of this occurs in The Arwich Grinder, which is a
0-level funnel for the Dungeon Crawl Classics game
appearing in Crawl! Fanzine issue #9.
Especially in the initial portions of a campaign, it is important that
the players have agency to disagree with the GM about their characters’ pasts…but
this does not come without limitation.
(4) Players tend to expect that
seating arrangements at the table don’t matter.
James Raggi’s Death Frost Doom gives
the best example of where seating arrangements matter. Certain events in the module instruct the GM
to go clockwise or counter-clockwise around the table from a triggering
character’s player until a saving throw is failed. Sit close enough to Johnny-Pulls-the-Levers
and you might find yourself wanting to change seats.
(5) Players tend to expect that they
are working together towards a common goal.
You can subvert this in a couple of obvious
ways. One is to set a win condition that
not all the characters can meet. In an
adventure in the DCC core rulebook, a living being must be left in the dungeon
when the others depart. If you killed
all of the monsters, it will have to be one of you.
Another way is to forcibly split the party,
even for a single encounter. A wall
drops in the middle of the room as monsters come in from both sides – suddenly the
party cannot use its usual tactics. An
example of another way to forcibly split the party appears in the addendum in Crawl!
#9.
(6) Players tend to expect that they
know the rules under which they are operating.
The 1st Edition Dungeon
Master’s Guide gives advice on adventuring on other planes of
existence. The Dungeon Crawl Classics
core rulebook suggests making magic work differently within the context of
different locations. Many classic
modules include areas where some spells do not work, or the characters cannot
act as they normally would…the floor is frictionless, gravity is reversed, etc.
The adventure designer should remember
that, in addition to the PCs encountering a dungeon
(or whatever), the players are encountering a game. Just as the dungeon (or whatever) should
afford unexpected elements, so too should the game. By playing with what is occurring at the
table, on the game level, the GM can make events far more memorable than yet
another excursion to kill things and take their stuff.
Reminds me of Joust -
ReplyDeletehttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joust_(video_game)
That was the inspiration.
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