Society- Please don't Break the Contract between us

There are two types of bad movies- those that are bad from the beginning, and thus you can laugh at them, and those that start good and then turn really crappy. This movie belongs to the second, much disappointing group.

In short, this is the story of a young man who thinks that he doesn't belong to his family. Slowly but surely he starts to find the truth, while it seems that the whole world is against him. At the end, when the truth is finally revealed, Yuzna tries to pass some social commentary. While the message gets to us, the execution is a bit… way too much over-the-top, and that's without mentioning the "fart-jokes" of the end. Too bad, it opened way too good to be campy, it is just a disappointment.

But, like always, there's something to learn from this movie. There's something that the movie does right, or otherwise I wouldn't have been this disappointed. And what the movie did right was to question my understanding of the situation- am I really seeing that something isn't right, or is it just the protagonist's imagination.

Throughout most of the film, Billy visits a psychiatrist. This gives us the possibility to ask ourselves: who really is the madman in this movie? Is Billy the madman, or is he the only sane person in the world. He himself questions what he sees, and time after time Yuzna disputes his protagonist's theories.

And it is so powerful. Because not only are we afraid for Billy, who might be sane and thus in real danger, we also fear that he really is mad and thus he might hurt all the other people in his disturbed world, people who only tried to help him. What Yuzna does at the end, though, is to throw all of these possibilities and fears out of the window, picking a lazy (even though much more social-stingy) solution. For an example made right, I'll have to point you to the great Buffy episode Normal Again (season 6 episode 17). But yeah, Society…

What can we learn from this failure? First of all, that sometimes we can't give both social commentary and a satisfying ending. And as we first of all game and only later try to say something, the game is more important (unless stated so from the beginning).

Bu secondly and far more importantly, if we have built something good, please don't let it fall. Because disappointment is a breaching of the contract between us people, players and GM(s). And this contract is far more important than shoving a message into our ears and brains.

With that out of the way, I wanna hear you. What have you thought about this movie? And what have you learned from it?

The Mist- Learning When to Stop

13 years after directing The Shawshank Redemption, Darabont directs another King's adaptation. And I can’t say that I was impressed. It is considered to be one of the greatest and most frightening horror movies of the century so far, but I couldn't agree less. It was one of the most disappointing films that I've ever seen.

On the surface, it has all the elements of being a good horror movie, and also a good movie outside of the genre, the same line that for me holds movies like Casablanca (my all-time favorite), Psycho, The Silence of the Lambs, The 400 Blows and so many more. It has some very nice acting, and it has a political sting, and it has some interesting and surprisingly deep characters (well, most of them, if you look hard enough). It has a really nice conspiracy, and it tackles religious fanatics and hubris filled scientists. It has everything that a movie could ask for.

And that's the problem, it has way too much. The mist isn't scary, because there are creatures in there. They aren't scary, because we've got big ol fucking Cthulhu in there. Cthulhu isn't scary, because we got a conspiracy, and this conspiracy isn't scary because we also got some religious fanatics, and we're also told about the scientists, and we see the people going mad, becoming beasts like in Night of the Living Dead, and… I think that you've got the idea. We've got way too much.

And that's even before we look at the movie on the genre level. We've got horror, and then we got a love story (only for the woman to get killed 2 seconds or so later). Then we get into a Christian movie, later turned into a post-apocalyptic film, before finally ending on the melodramatic Hamlet side of the spectrum.

Maybe it's just me, I don't know. But for me it was hell too much to really care for what's going on. I watched the movie trying to understand what's going on at the beginning, and then started to guess what strange twist they'll bring this time.

And that's a lesson to keep in mind when designing and writing your stories, your adventures. Think not only about what to put in, but also about what to put out. Remind yourself that too much of a good thing turns everything into something bad, or at the very least tasteless. When every few minutes the story changes completely, and you throw something too different and too big to handle, you'll just end with people who don't care.

They don't care not because they don't want to, but because they can't, because you put too much for their minds to handle. Because, and that' a thing that one should keep in mind, you as GM's know everything and you had much time to absorb it, to analyze it, to understand what goes where and when. But players? They only have a few minutes. So have mercy on them, or don't be surprised when they can't get what you're doing next or don't care for your uber-impressive plot twist.

How about you? What did you think about this movie? And have you learned from it something else, something positive?

Whose Game Is It?

I think that it was just yesterday when I wrote about my MLP campaign. When the session ended, one of the players sent us a drawing of the characters. Apart from the cool factor and the feeling of epicness for such an instant, what struck me more was the conversation that ensued.

Player 1: You should post it on Facebook.

Player 2 (the artist): What should I write?

Player 1: Tag all of us-

Player 3 (interrupting): And write that it's Yosi's campaign.

I immediately said that this campaign is owned by all of us, it is our campaign, and that they created the story as much as I did. A quick conversation ensued, and it got published as "our campaign (but mostly Yosi's)".

I have 4 players in this group. Each one with different amounts of experience with RPGs, with only one of them (quite ironically, player 3) having prior experience in one of my games. The fact that he's a regular player in my groups for about 2 years now is only this more ironic.

The consensus was clear- this is my campaign far more than it is their campaign. And I find it quite interesting. You see, I always use "my campaign/game" in my writing, because I took part in it, making it mine. It is my campaign not because I'm the GM, but because I help to drive it toward a certain dramatic beat. I don't mean here railroading, because I don't railroad (and my players can attest for that), but rather I mean here creating as much drama as I can, while ensuring that as much of the story and drama is created by them and/or for their playing instruments (the PCs) and them.

My players also play this way, and have almost as much control about the plot, setting and the like individually as I do. They create parts of the setting, their findings, they even invented the plot, creating and fleshing it between the sessions to our own amazement. Yet they all agreed that it was my campaign and not theirs.

And I'm confused. If it weren't for them, it would remain just a concept, an idea about a MLP game in which the players play Blank Flanks looking for their Cutie Marks. If it weren't for them, we wouldn't have a prophecy, or Sherlock Hooves, or Zombie-like ponies. If it weren't for them, the books wouldn't do anything more than fly and laugh till the end of days. If it weren't for them, the narrative wouldn't move from Canterlot to the Crystal Empire. If it weren't for them, they wouldn't meet Cheese Sandwich. Yet it is my campaign, according to their words.

Looking in forums, theory articles, RPG.SE and other places that I regularly visit, it seemed almost too prevalent, too widespread. I found only a handful of players who didn't gave the credit for the campaign's success, or the credit for ownership, to their GM. And it didn't matter if the game involved a pre-written narrative, a sandbox or a completely improvised game. It didn't matter if the players were active, passive, inventive or questioning for permission before each step on their way towards the end.

And I find it confusing and problematic. We always say that RPG is a type of shared experience. We always say that we create everything together. We always say that the story moved one way or the other because we, each and every one of us, chose so. So why do we still give the keys of ownership to the GM?

I don't have an answer. I have some theories, but not even a single one of them is fleshed out, not to mention able to stand a test or scrutiny. But I know that I don't like this mindset. Am I alone?

Hit Them in the Stats

My MLP campaign got to its second session mark, which means that a, it is a campaign, and b, that it starts to get into shape. We also were joined by a new player, so more fun for everyone.

Anyway, during the session, one of the players (who was also in yesterday's session) told me that this session was even scarier than last one. And that got me thinking. How could a game session where the players play pastel-colored ponies be scarier than a full-blown one-shot horror game?

The Eureka moment has arrived when I brought back the memory of the instance in which he told me this. It was just after I took away one of his character's abilities. "That's interesting", I thought to myself, "it reminds me of something from the past…"

When I played in a 4-year long AD&D campaign, there was a single monster that was terrifying far more than anything else we could think of. It was the vampire. And why were we so terrified? Because it took away levels, hard-earned levels. Think about losing a year and a few tens of thousands of gold pieces work disappearing in a single attack, that's how terrifying it was.

When I was GMing one of my longest D&D campaigns, there was again a single monster that the players fear- the Quasit. This creature, a CR 2 type of monster, took away dexterity points from the characters.

What was common to both of these monsters was a single thing that it took me some time to figure out- it hurt the characters mechanically, in a stat that wasn't supposed to get hurt so easily.

And that's what I did here. I haven't thought about it when I did it today, but it explains so much of the fear factor. What I did do intentionally, though, was to ensure that this condition stands 2 "tests": 1) It doesn't happen as a side effect, but rather as a major plot-point of the session, and 2) The character still has other means by which to help the party and/or to contribute to the story and narrative of the game. Passing these two tests ensured that it wouldn't feel arbitrarily and out of nowhere, while also ensuring that it doesn't make the character fully useless.

So, how about you? Have you ever taken away abilities from the players? For what purpose? How did it go?

The Group Goes Adventuring

"If you'll complete this mission for me, I will reward you, with many a gold piece. Your reward will be great, 2500 gp for each..." Beatrix remembered it far too well when they were on their way, even better when they started to fight their way to the centre of the dungeon where the "Sword of Elerondium" lies for centuries. She remembered it even better when they got close to it. She felt they were close. 

When the dragon emerged in front of her, she knew what the baron said by heart. When the dragon emerged, ready to burn their asses, she knew that she has to run. The entire group knew that it doesn't worth it. 2500 gp for each doesn't worth one of them. They've got far enough money to train themselves better (and to advance a level, Eleanor would think to herself after the session), and the dragon is far too powerful...

Eleanor decided that it won't happen in her game. She remembered far too well the number of times that this shadow of the past came to haunt her, manifesting each time differently, in another group and in another mission. She decided that in her game, the reason for the mission will be personal.

She knew another thing. She knew that if it will be a cliche, it may destroy everything. The last quest bestowed by the mentor is not the way to do it. So it is to rescue the daughter of the king. But to rescue their parents? Their friends? That's a different thing. Or maybe she can go for their goals and ideals? There is sure a thing there that she can dig for...

The group were on their way, ready to face what it will take them to complete their quest, ready to fight for what is worth fighting and to save who is worth saving. Eleanor was happy, the group didn't know what meant her smile and started to panic a little bit...

A few points that were raised in Eleanor's GMing, and/or in her GM's GMing

• Reasons to go for adventuring should be personal.
• If they are not personal, be ready for the players to decide that their characters are leaving when they'll think it doesn't worth it.
• Players understand differently smiles of the GM, and it can be used.
• The background of the PCs is a goldmine for reasons to go adventuring, and also for the adventures themselves.

Eleanor Opens a New Campaign...

Eleanor continued to look in her memories, searching for another tricks, for another ways that her old GM used to open campaigns with. She looked at the players, a little bit nervous, a little bit sad, but it soon changed. She decided to continue no matter what.

She was sitting there, her GM starts the adventure, and the picture emerged back. Her old GM knew when to read from the papers and when to improvise scenery. What was so wonderful, was that she did both of this things overly dramatic, and it was way too hard to discern when she did which.

The session started, her old GM stops before an important message, before terrifying scenery, before...

Eleanor always felt that she sees the world, but more than that, she smelled the world, she touched it, she heard it, she tasted it, the world was around her and within her and... Beatrix smelled the roses in the fields. She went to the bar, leading her group. Although she knew what was there, although she was in the bar a moment before she was in the roses garden, she didn't feel cheated. She felt it was justified. It was a flashback, this scene, and she led the group to where they begun...

Eleanor came back to the present, her group looking at her, waiting to see and to hear what she's gonna do. Less than a minute has passed, and she knew right away what to do. She described the surroundings, the world, the where and what and when of the game. She continued to a little bit of the whom of the story, those that were at the bar anyway, and she laid the ground to the PCs. 

The PCs were there, her changing voice, volume and tone, drew them near, drew them in, her descriptions created the living picture that she tried to create...

The group sat in the bar, looking at the commoners and at the few nobles who were there. They suddenly were asked about their history by the barman, who looked interested to hear how they have met, and what have they done in the past few months, and if they are adventurers. 

The group started to describe, telling about coincidental meetings and about first-look loves and about family-bonds and about event-bonds. The barman listened quietly, asking one question there, another one then, suggesting ideas when they were stuck.

It wasn't a clean way, she knew, but it was useful, and it was in character. "Get this thing in the beginning and it will continue 'till the end", her old GM used to say, and she was right, of course... Before she knew it, she had a group with history, with a background and a few deeds, and with a goal. She was happy with what she had. It was a great beginning...

And so, Eleanor continued with her GMing. A few things that were pointed here:

• Descriptions: All five senses.
• Voice: Changing all the time. Not monotonous or anything, but a changing vibrant voice in both volume and tone.
• If there's a contradiction to a thing that was said, it's better to give a quick convincing explanation. Flashback was great in this example- it used the contradiction to explain how they arrived at the bar, but it can also be solved in another ways (dreams are a favourite of many...).
• It's best to ask the group how they met. Not how their characters met, but how they as the characters met ("Beatrix, how did you and Robert met?" As opposed to "Eleanor, how did you and Bobby met?").
• If the group is stuck, suggest ways to continue. It doesn't have to be crystal clear, as with the example of the barman, but a little leading question there, another small one a short time afterwards and you've got something...

The Story of Eleanor

This moment comes, when you open a new game, with new characters and all, and you all sit across the round table and wait for the ordinary world to disappear and for the imaginary world to fill the space. You, like every person wants to get into the mind of your character, you want to be him/her and not yourself anymore, at least for a few hours.

The GM starts to speak. She describes the setting, going over all the details of the bar that you're within, of the tired barkeeper and of the stinking man with the purple roses who's supposed to be some kind of a magician. Then he asks you: "What are you playing?"

And in a moment, everything that she built is lost. In a moment, you're not Beatrix anymore but only play her. The shift is too quick, too strange, too out of its place. You look at your wonderful GM with your eyes and she suddenly understands what mistake she made. She quickly corrects herself: "Can you please describe yourself?" And the change is far too great. Suddenly, you're not Eleanor anymore, but Beatrix. 

She then continues to one of her old tricks, and she asks you (just like she asks everyone else) a question about Beatrix. Not a familiar question, but a strange one. "What does Beatrix do every Sunday morning?" Last story opener she asked you about Lisa's marriage life, and she asked Bob's character about what he liked best in his wife. She didn't ask Bob, as she didn't ask you, she asked the characters. Suddenly, you were in the characters' minds, thinking like them. The shift was well familiar, and it felt great.

Today, it's the time to start a new session, and you begin in the same way your old GM opened the game. The players respond well, and you can see that they begin to be their characters, to come into their skin, to sit into their brains, just like the way it happened to you.

I don't know if I succeeded with what I tried to pass here. I hope I did. It's not magic, and Eleanor didn't lose touch with reality (although she wasn't real in the first place...). It just helped this Eleanor to be her character for a few hours, and to leave the troubles behind when she met her friends...

How about you? How do you help the players to be their characters?

A Letter to My GM

Dear GM,

I write for you this letter in order to help you make the game better. You see, I like SF, I really do, but as your player I must tell you that there's one problem within it that I must state so you won't make this fatal mistake that will make me running to take cover from the game.

The problem is quite common in your games, at least the ones you've GMed for me over the years. Your world is too far-fetched, too far from what I know, that I cannot relate to your game or to your world. I know you've put a lot of energy into it, that's why I'm telling you this, before the game begins, so you'll still be able to fix it before you'll see my face.

I'm sure I'm not alone in this feeling, but I'm also sure that most of your other players won't tell you this. It can be because they're too polite, but I believe that it's because they don't know the reason yet. I think so because I was in the same place as they do. I left this place not a long time ago. I'm glad that I've left it, 'cause now I can understand why I didn't care for this world of yours, a world that I appreciated it complexity and details but not its emotional state, a world that bears not empathy for itself or for the world's habitats.

Please, before it will fail miserably, help all of us and fix this little problem...

Yosi

10 Mistakes to Fuck Your Campaign

Not a long time ago, 'bout 2 weeks or so, I've participated in 2 game sessions, as a player. He opened the game well, stretching his great idea into a good game, and the session ended top notch. I was happy, 'cause I had a great game. He was happy, because he GMed well, very well actually, even for a not first time GM.

Then came the next session. I, and the other 2 players, came for the game with the expectation from last session, but for some reason or another, the game didn't stand for what it had promised. I started to think about it, trying to figure out how such a wonderful game can collapse in one session. My thinking brought me to these points:

1. If enough story advancement has been achieved, don't add new players. True, there are game where you can do it, but they are the exception and not the rule. Adding new players changes all of the game up to this point.
2. If you add a player, make sure the player's play style is not that different from the rest of the players. First sessions are there for finding this formula for what kind of a game it will be. Adding a player with a different play style makes the adjustments much heavier. In that game, 3 players who are more free-formy and less technical were joined by a very technical and analytical player.
3. If adding players, or if players are missing, think about a rational explanation for why they weren't there. I stumbled with this aspect a lot in my GMing "career", but saying that the character was in the bathroom for example is not that good of an explanation. I try to do something else: I pretend that the character spoke what s/he had to say, and if there's a battle, the character is taking to the side one of the enemies... The character is still there, but in the background.
4. The PCs are there to get the limelight, not the NPCs. In that second game session, there was an NPC on our side who was unstoppable and just a mind-blowing killing machine. We, as players, didn't know what to do about him as we try to stop the same villain he's trying to stop.
5. Players, you aren't there to do some photosynthesis, so don't be vegetables. In Israel, we have a term for the player whose there for saying the "I attack" when is being attacked and that's all, veg (although in Israel we call the player "a flowerpot", or aziz (עציץ)). Players should act, not stay back and wait for others to tell them what to do.
6. References are good, sheer copying is bad. Don't copy entire stories from other places without some adjustments. Better yet, don't steal characters and put them in mid game.
7. Consequences are not a dirty word. If the PCs do a bad thing, or use a power inappropriately, don't let them get away with it that easy, or they'll do it again.
8. On the other hand, don't forget to appreciate the good deeds, or they'll be less and less common.
9. Make sure the players know what to expect for when entering the game. If you want a gritty fantasy game and your players want a heroic one, one of you will have to compromise, and it will probably be you. Make the compromise beforehand and the game won't suffer for being this late.
10. Don't railroad the players, and most of all, don't think that only a particular way (or ways) will solve the story, it will just get into a halt. "No adventure survives first contact with players", so don't make it too dear for your heart.

And, that's it. How about you? What mistakes did kill your campaigns?