Running great convention games

With Kapcon around the corner, I've been pondering what makes a good tabletop roleplaying convention game (from either side of the table).  I've had some hits and misses in my time running games at conventions and spent a fair bit of time discussing and de-briefing with others. 

In the following section I outline 5 common challenges that often undermine convention games, then propose a solution you can employ to account for such obstacles and allow your convention scenario to achieve its full potential.

1. Insufficient character agency
The time constraint of convention games often leads GMs to construct scenarios where there are limited choices.  This can be fine, so long as the characters can genuinely make some important decisions, and those decisions are the focus of the game. 

Consider the first 20 minutes of  any contemporary horror movie - there will almost always be some constraint that limits the characters options and separates them from wider society when the horror strikes.  That's not a problem necessarily, so long as the choices the characters then make have real meaning for them and their story (in game terms this means that the story of the characters should be the meat of the action).    

Another common type of 'con game with limited agency is the high-concept scenario, where a GM has a vivid and detailed idea about a setting (usually inspired by fiction) but only a rough idea of how the characters will interact with the setting (beyond exploring it) and no backup plan to adapt the story to the characters if they reject some or all of the premise, or simply find it dull.

2. Too little structure
The flip-side of a low-agency game is a game where there is simply too much scope for unstructured character interaction.  Consider most investigative scenarios: usually the characters must follow a sequence of clues to solve the mystery.    The problem with such scenarios in a 'con environment is that people (and their characters) are likely to have very different approaches to what may seem (to the GM) like a very linear set of clues, and could easily spend the better part of an hour discussing one particular clue and its implications, or following false lead.  

Equally scenarios which invite the characters to form plans can fall into an endless planning cycle as characters consider every possible eventuality.  This is often not the intent or focus of the game, but an inevitable outcome of a particular set of elements.

3. Assumed character cooperation
Irrespective of whether the players are strangers or not, if the characters are not known to one another, most players will want to 'ease into' character relationships and shared decision making.  Some will not want to participate collectively at all, and prefer a 'lone wolf' approach if they feel this fits their character.

That means that most con games need to allow characters space and time to meet and interact, and not count on character cooperation unless this is clearly and explicitly stated from the outset.

4. Poor system fit
Unless a convention game is intended to teach a system it needs to be very light touch, and focussed on only the core activity that will occur for the characters during the few hours of the scenario.  Many traditional systems have rules that cover far more ground than that, and this can confuse and bog-down play.

There are many, many different systems out there, and it's well worth shopping around to find one that is well suited for the needs of the scenario.  Ideally a discussion of rules is a very short part of the game establishment phase, and players have quick reference sheets handy (or incorporated into their character sheets) to refresh themselves of the key points.

5. Doesn't cater for player styles
People approach games in a lot of different ways.  Some are particularly extraverted and likely to enjoy and proactively engage in almost any style of game.  Others are less likely to try and grab the spotlight.  For some folks having something structured, like an initiative sequence with clear specified actions that are weighted to be equal to those performed by other characters, provides assurance that they'll get an equal level of involvement to their more glib companions.

Irrespective of the system and setting, some players will try and win, or defy the odds, others will try and participate indirectly, playing their characters more as spectators than protagonists.  How a GM responds to such approaches will be noticed and reflected upon by the other players, who may change their own approach if they perceive there is a more favourable option. 

Creating a scenario sideboard
All of this may seem a little overwhelming, especially for a GM who feels that the players should simply be grateful that they've offered to run a game at all.  All too often the temptation is to blame the players if a game doesn't go well, or live up to the expectations of the GM.


But you can do more to ensure that you run the best version of your game possible. When I played Magic: The Gathering, many years ago, decks had a thing called a sideboard, which was an extension to the deck that had a series of additional cards that you could add to your deck to better optimise it once you knew what you were up against.

I suggest that a good convention scenario can have something similar.  A series of ideas and options that you can port into your scenario to better adapt it to your players.  What options are there for the characters to interact and get on the same page and how can you facilitate this if it doesn't happen organically?  What time pressure can be added if the characters seem to want to spend ages planning something?  How can you ensure that everyone is involved at the table, and what option might you employ to park a noisy player for a few minutes, to allow quieter players time to be heard?

Because you won't necessarily know what challenges you'll face, the unsurprising advice behind all of this is to playtest your game if at all possible.  If you can playtest it with strangers, or people you don't normally game with, so much the better.  But a robust playtest should highlight some of the things you need to include in a scenario sideboard.

A Small But Vicious Dog

Over the last few months we've been exploring the world of Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay (3rd edition) from Fantasy Flight Games.  Described by the publisher as: "an new, exciting way to experience the popular Warhammer Fantasy setting... a grim world, constantly at war", I think WFRP 3e is an important game, albeit an imperfect one.  The following text contains my reflections of the game thus far.

Why WFRP?
There are many, many fantasy games on the market, so why does Warhammer have enduring appeal?  For me the answer is in several parts.  One part is nostalgia. For anyone who played the Warhammer Fantasy Battle, or earlier editions of the roleplaying game, WFRP is a familiar, well resolved, interesting fantasy setting, that contains most typical fantasy tropes alongside some tongue-in-cheek humour.

The second major appeal of the game has always been the idea that instead of playing a fledgling hero, you play a character just trying to get by.  Careers like Rat Catcher or Servant are the norm, and darkness is everywhere.  Perhaps the characters will survive the adventure and prosper, but they may simply end up mutilated, mentally scarred or diseased, trying desperately to get into a more respectable career.  If you favour a dark fantasy game, WFRP has always been a good choice.

Finally the game has always been well supported with a large range of sourcebooks and scenarios.  Some classic campaigns, like The Enemy Within are considered classics and extremely innovative for their time.

Pick a card, any card
The most striking difference between the 3rd edition of WFRP and it's predecessors, is the use of cards.  The bespoke card decks are used for the entirety of the options available to players during combat, reflecting wounds, insanities, diseases, madness, mutation, monsters and even in-game locations.

The cards are neat.  They take a lot of the load from the GM to manage the rules for the players, and make clear the potential outcomes for most results.  On the down side, the cards take up a lot of space during the game, and require careful management between sessions to prevent hours of searching later, and make second hand versions of the game a touch-and-go option.

It should be noted that, toward the end of the license, Fantasy Flight published a series of books which enable the game to be played without many of the cards previously required, and allowed players to plan career development at a glance (rather than scouring endless card decks).  The utility of these books make them an important addition to the smooth operation of the game.

Other innovations
There are several other neat elements of WFRP 3e.  The game is practically bursting with little innovations, such as the stance tracker, which tracks whether a character is more conservative or aggressive and allows you to swap dice in your pool accordingly, social combat rules, a descriptive range tracker, and overall party tension measure.  And of course, the special dice which so polarised gamers when the game was released.

Although many of these elements are not smoothly integrated, they are extremely innovative for a traditional system with such a long history.  For these reasons I think the game is important in the history of roleplaying game design, and many have been influential on subsequent designs.

Quirks and peculiarities
WFRP 3e is not without some eyebrow raising limitations.  For example, High Elves are included as a core character race, but widely marginalised in the settings for most of the scenarios written for the game.  In addition, no elf expansion was ever made limiting elf-specific career options.

The game was originally designed for just 4 players with card options to match.  These days this problem is easily resolved by finding the basic card summary online and printing one for each player.

While the materials included in the scenario and expansion boxes are beautiful, there's a criminal shortage of usable maps and the organisation of the scenario books is not always ideal.  Should the card decks become separated from the scenario books they are almost unplayable in some cases.

The party tension meter is a really nice idea, but unless your players are rigorous in staying in character, most bickering around a game table happens 'out-of-character' and punishing players for bickering in character actually works against a richer, more fully realised, game.

The bespoke dice mechanic is a nice way of randomising several possible outcomes in a single throw, but dice outcome cancelling each other out, means bigger pools (as the character advance their careers) complicate the resolution of this mechanic without any additional benefit.

Freeing careers from a tree-progression system and allowing an almost unlimited ability to pick up new cards means that players have a lot more options in terms of character development, but this also means players face a bewildering array of choices, especially when they start playing the game.

In summary
WFRP 3e is an eccentric game.  It is bursting full of ideas and neat tricks, but much of the way these work together at the table feels unfinished, and doesn't live up to their full potential.  Indeed, you might say that Fantasy Flight refined the system when it made Star Wars: Edge of the Empire and again for Genesys.

If you like the setting, and can get past the challenges inherent in the game collateral (bespoke dice and large numbers of cards) you'll find a surprising accessible system, that delivers a solid gaming experience, particularly for early-career characters.

Players & Preferences

Most people come in roleplaying through a fairly informal process.  They play with friends, or join established groups.  While this kind of entry to gaming is fairly reliable in allowing people to identify the kinds of games they don’t enjoy, few groups actually have an explicit conversation about the kinds of gaming activities they enjoy most.  In fact I’d argue many people haven’t even given it a whole lot of thought.

And yet, when a group (collectively) fails to click with a game the consequences can be severe.  Perhaps more insidiously, groups might spend years playing games that, whilst enjoyable to some extent, don’t actually press their buttons.

This issue is compounded by the fact that within the group tastes may vary considerably, and that many people actually like a lot of different elements in different combinations.  Consider the following list for example:

• Exploring ideas and concepts
• Exploring settings or environments
• Investigating mysteries and interacting with NPCs
• Battling and defeating foes
• Developing a story about the characters
• Acquiring new powers, expertise or items
• Interacting with the other players in character
• Developing innovative solutions to intractable problems

The chances are good that most players will enjoy all these elements to some extent, but they probably also have several that they enjoy over the others.

Now consider the social inhibitions commonly associated with gaming.  The GM often runs the game they want to play without necessarily having regard to the preferences of the players, on the basis that they will invest more time into making the game successful.

Then there the myriad of complex relationships between players – are they friends outside the game?  Are some ‘tenured’ while others are relative newcomers?  Have some invested in specific game books?  Plus, the aforementioned possibility that they may not actually have given a whole lot of thought to their actual preferences, or simply enjoy the social activity irrespective of game.

So, how to reveal the preferences of players?  Here are two suggestions:

Explicit question: contact the players individually and ask them what kinds of activities they enjoy most; ideally as a hierarchy using a list like the above, as it’s likely that people will enjoy all of those activities to some extent, or in a particular context.

Observe and assess:  watch how your players respond to specific sessions containing different mixes of the above elements.  This will likely also reveal the group dynamic to some extent and give you a good feeling for where respective preferences sit around the table.

Suffice to say, that I’ve observed that the preferences of the players in my group (collectively) are not actually what I would have previously thought them to be, and since I’ve tried to find a game that better suits their preferences, people have been having more fun.

Designer's Notes - Wicked Lies & Alibis

I recently launched a new game; Wicked Lies & Alibis, a whodunit roleplaying game set in the age of art deco.  I thought it might be interesting to briefly discuss how this game came about and the thinking behind some of the key design decisions that were made.

Inspiration
It all started when I was playtesting a new EPOCH scenario - Harvest - which was subsequently published in The Experiment Continues.  One of the suggested setups for the characters in the opening scene is that they are old friends who are travelling together to sprinkle the ashes of a recently deceased friend from the cliffs of her remote, coastal, hometown. This background served no purpose to the scenario beyond being a reason that the characters travel together to the town where the scenario begins

EPOCH is designed to encourage the players to construct interesting backstories for characters with a specific flashback mechanic.  As my playtest progressed the players began to focus on the story of the deceased friend, and created a Tarantinoesque story involving a drug-deal gone bad, double-crossing and finally death.  Each player used their flashback to show a different way in which the friend was badly injured during these escapades, but concluded with the friend being alive when they last saw them - implicating the other characters.

So engaging was this story of betrayal it came to compete with and even eclipse the scenario plot.  That led me to conclude that EPOCH worked pretty well to support this kind of a game. But what, I wondered, would a game that was explicitly designed to generate this kind of story look like?

I have always found it interesting that in most murder mystery stories the crime itself is fairly straightforward; the bulk of such stories are the lies, obfuscation and twists that the guilty, and not-guilty, weave in order to hide their secrets.  It seemed to me that there was a neat game experience to be had in recreating this kind of game for the tabletop, focussing on the human drama and secrets of the suspects, rather than the procedural aspects of following clues and deduction.

Characters
I started with character creation; EPOCH does a pretty good job of supporting the players to generate interesting concepts from a few card-based concepts which could be fleshed out in much greater detail over a single session, so I borrowed these mechanics - but there were a few tweaks I wanted to make.  For example, in the past I'd observed players complain they simply couldn't reconcile two randomly dealt character creation cards, and sometimes players would even agree to swap cards.  So, I decided it would be important to give the player several options so they could pick a combination of cards that suited them from the outset.  I also added a motive card which would have obvious importance for later in the game.

In EPOCH I suggest using a group relationship to help players establish an identity relative to one another.  For Wicked Lies & Albis I wanted this relationship to have a mechanical effect, so during the opening scenes each character can play a connection (which they specify) on another character, and both players look at each other’s secret motive and circumstance cards, binding them together in a way that enables them to help or incriminate one another later in the game.  During playtest this had the greatest impact when players established close relationships, particularly immediate family.  It also means that some characters might end up being heavily connected (and knowing a lot of other people’s secrets) which I think helps reflect the reality the way social groups actually work in real life.

The game itself is split into two parts.  The opening scenes serve to ease the players into their characters, and to interact in order to establish some basic relationships.  Another EPOCH device that I’ve slightly refined this is also where the GM does the scene setting and introduces the future victim, and at the conclusion, the means of their demise.

The System
The second part of the game is perhaps the real meat of the game experience.  I wanted the characters to be able to tell stories of the victim’s demise, and ultimately accuse each other – but I needed a way to balance the different skills and experience that players bring to the table, and create a story framework that was constrained enough that it could evolve over the course of the game, and where the key elements could be remembered by the players. 

My solution was to create a deck of accusation cards.  Each has an element that incriminates another character somewhat (for example the character has a violent temper or previously threatened to kill the victim), and a player draws three such cards in each of four rounds and choses one to play on another character at the table in order to incriminate them as the potential murderer.  Played cards remain on the table as a physical reminder of the story and where the weight of accusations sits. 

In the hands of some players these cards support the framing of a detailed flashback scene which culminates in an accusation; for others less interested in exercising narrative control, simply making the accusation across the table is sufficient.  There are also alibi cards that allow a player to cancel an accusation played on another character by providing an alibi, rather than making an accusation.

The key is that the accusations can fit any context that the players construct – for example we know the character of the actor has a violent temper because it has been narrated in an accusation that they assaulted a theatre critic who reviewed them poorly – now that we know the actor is violent and probably ambitious, so a further accusation might infer that perhaps the victim was preparing to fund their next theatrical outing and reneged at the last minute, or perhaps they were a beneficiary of the victim’s will and needed a cash injection to promote their career... As the accusations are played, we learn more about the character and their motive to murder.

So while the accusation cards provide elements of a story framework, the players are the ones who really shape the story.  Playing multiple accusations on a character allows players to build on one-another’s stories, and ultimately each is a vote for which of the emerging narratives is most compelling.  This is an unusual experience for the players as they begin the game with total autonomy over their character, but in the second part of the game, they give up some of this autonomy and gain a level of narrative power over other characters, while still remaining in the skin of their character. 

During this phase the GM takes a formal facilitation role through the NPC of the Great Detective, who already knows the identity of the murderer, but will only reveal this once the secrets of the key suspects, and their attempts to obfuscate the truth, have been laid bare.

Playtesting the game yielded a further element – players wanted to have the opportunity to respond immediately to accusation made against their character, by turning them back on their accuser.  So I added the Prime Suspect card (given to the character with the most accusations) which allows this to happen once per round, providing some disincentive to piling accusations on one character, while also providing a physical reminder of which character is soon to face charges for murder.  This all comes to a conclusion in a formal end scene, where each player provides a conclusion for their character.

Conclusion
So, how does this all work?  In my experience Wicked Lies & Alibis supports an almost entirely player-driven story experience, and balances interaction so that everyone at the table has a fairly equal degree of participation.  It manages this without needing a 10,000 word scenario or the threat of character elimination that is the modus operandi of EPOCH.  All the GM needs is a deck of cards, a one-page case summary and to have some idea about the Great Detective they want to portray.

That said, much like EPOCH, I imagine this won’t be a game for everyone, it’s pretty non-traditional, dispensing with attributes, skills and characteristics, and my perusal of relative sales status of DriveThruRPG titles suggests that while investigation is common in many popular RPGs, dedicated murder mystery RPGs don’t seem to have a huge following.  There’s also the need to assemble the deck, which is obviously a much higher bar to entry than simply grabbing your trusty dice and a pencil.

As always, it took much longer to pull together all the material I wanted to include than I initially imagined.  Following on from the example of EPOCH scenarios I wanted to offer some detailed facilitation notes to explain how to get the most from each phase of the game, and some summary materials to make the GM's life easy at the table (as a regular 'con GM I am a big advocate of simple reference sheets).  Then there is the historic context - I wanted to set this during the art deco period (mid 1920's- late 1930's) to parallel the 'golden age' of detective fiction, so I wanted to add a few historical details, but as this wouldn't be the focus of the game, I didn't want to get bogged down in this material, so I hit on the idea of introducing selected historical themes in the same way you'd introduce an NPC - some general details to enhance the flavour of the game.

So, that's a high-level overview of creating Wicked Lies & Alibis.  It makes it sound a much more orderly and planned experience than it actually was - at it's heart this is a game that evolved from a tabletop experience, and was refined through further gaming and experimentation.  

[Cross-Posted to Wicked Lies & Alibis]

Arkham Chronicles

I've started running the Arkham Chronicles for my gaming group.  It's a sandbox style Call of Cthulhu campaign which serves the purpose of familiarising us with the 7th Edition rules, creating some characters with real history, while also filling the time until we can begin Horror on the Orient Express (my copy still hasn't arrived) and I'm not inclined to begin the campaign proper until the 7th Edition Kickstarter has also delivered books to the table.

I've run a Call of Cthulhu sandbox campaign before, set in Kingsport, and found it to be a very rewarding experience, as the players really spend some time developing their characters until the whole group has a real feel for these people, which obviously makes for a more compelling time when they are faced with the sanity shattering dangers of the Mythos.

My approach is to select several scenarios and weave the key elements of each into the characters daily lives along with some mundane (and quirky) elements - for example one of the scenarios I'm using (Darkness Illuminated from the Island of Ignorance) mentions missing animals.  So, to put this thread into the path of the characters, the Mayor's wife hired PC Frank Cutter, a Private Investigator to find Mr. Pickles, her missing spaniel.  I also had a PC Sergeant Gatti of the Arkham National Guard witness a man being beaten by two mob thugs (and intervene) which is a reference to forthcoming elements from 7th.ed scenario Missed Dues and introduced some foreshadowing for the events from The Condemned in H.P. Lovecraft's Arkham.

The players then ultimately determine when their characters become more immersed in each scenario, which triggers the next series of planned events.  It works fairly well, as the balance of time at the table is spent on elements related directly or indirectly to horror, although the majority of each characters time is spent on the mundane tasks of daily life.  There is also an implicit sharing of authority with the players, as they can clearly see linkages between the things each character encounters, and can choose how their characters might come to realise such connections.

The only real negative (thus far) is that there is slightly more down-time for the players than I'd normally like (exacerbated by the fact I currently have 7 players!)  as each character has their spotlight time and moves through the events of their day.   Again there is an implicit suggestion that if the players want to have less downtime, they can work to have their characters link with others.  It's still early days yet, and it will be interesting to see how this game develops.

Back Into Space - The Warpstorm Trilogy begins

Following Chaosium's announcement that the publication of the 7th edition rules for Call of Cthulhu has been further delayed, I discussed with my group whether we should wait until the finished rules are published, and run Horror on the Orient Express in the way it is intended, or continue to play using the quickstart rules, or even go back to 6th Edition.  The consensus was to wait, so in the interim we have returned to a campaign which has been on my list of things I want to run for some time: The Warpstorm Trilogy for Rogue Trader.

"In Frozen Reaches, the Explorers find themselves facing an impending Ork invasion and working to save the planet of Damaris. But first, they will need to organize squabbling factions and establish a united front. This is no easy task, as powerful forces are working against them from the shadows...  The exciting adventure continues in The Citadel of Skulls and culminates in Fallen Sun. Do you have what it takes to brave the dangers of a warpstorm?"

Re-entry to the Rogue Trader system was a little rocky.  I had forgotten just how much complexity exists in such an old school system.  While not radically different from other Old School style games, Rogue Trader requires players to reference multiple sections of the core rules, and if they want to utilise all the options the system provides, reference specific sections in multiple books across the range.

On top of that, fairly routine actions (such as travel through the Warp, acquiring new items etc.) require a 3-5 stage process, each with a discrete set of mechanics, tests and modifiers, to say nothing of combat in both space and interpersonally.  It led me to wonder - what is the point of all this complexity?  What is this game doing (intentionally or otherwise)?

My conclusion is that all these mechanics and details provide a veneer of balance, and serve to effectively camouflage the degree of GM fiat that occurs in most traditional games.  To an extent the mini-outcomes these micro-systems produce can be used as a creative crutch by the GM, fleshing out details to add to descriptions and providing some colour.  However, as these systems also require the GM to specify difficulty, other variables and then situate the outcome in a meaningful context, they do not check GM fiat in any meaningful way.

Thus far, the mechanical complexity of Rogue Trader has been tiresome, convoluted, and just a little bit wonderful.

Favourite Monsters of the Cthulhu Mythos

As October rolls around my thoughts turn to Halloween.  This time last year, I was publishing EPOCH, my game of survival horror, and I’ll be posting here shortly about my thoughts on being a micro-publisher and publishing games one year on.  For now, to get warmed up for Halloween, let’s look at my favourite monsters of the Cthulhu Mythos.

There are many monsters of the Cthulhu Mythos – some derived directly from the work of Lovecraft, and others drawn from other sources. Indeed the venerable Ken Hite tells us there are 38 monsters listed in the Call of Cthulhu core rulebook, and a further 98 listed in the Malleus Monstrorum.

I’ve used many of these monsters when running games, and more besides, as many Call of Cthulhu scenarios like to introduce unique monsters of their own.  However, over the years I’ve come to be fond of some, more than others.

In my view a truly great Cthulhu Mythos monster has the ability to be terrifying, (not just in terms of mechanical San loss for the investigators, but also in the way in which it is encountered) and balances this either with either a mortality that puts it on a par with an armed human, or, it can be outrun if the investigators take to their heels.  Here are my top 5 creatures of the Cthulhu Mythos:

1. Bhyakee: A great stalwart of the game, the insectoid, winged Bhyakee can be used to stalk its prey (for example see ‘A Happy Family’ in Adventures in Arkham Country),  and can be a fearsome opponent for lightly armed investigators.  Even better, Bhyakee can be summoned and bound by investigators willing to plunge into the fearful tomes of the Mythos, serving as a potential assassin, or even a means of transport.

2. Ghouls: Ghouls are great.  They lurk beneath cities and towns, and sometimes even infiltrate society.  They are not necessarily deadly, but when encountered en-masse, or in their natural environment, they can be terrifying.  In addition they have a link to the underworld of the Dreamlands, livening any expedition into a ghoul warrens.  Then, of course, there’s that potential for human fascination and even devolution (see: Pickman’s Model).

3. Insects from Shaggi: A monster which hides inside people is a terrific idea.  There are several mythos monsters that do this, but these are my favourites.  Forcing their victims to perform terrible acts, any monster which promotes trepanation must be pretty terrible.  Several scenarios have made great use of these monsters, but my favourite remains Hobo Quest by Joseph Donaghue, which features in the Cthulhu Masters 05 monograph.

4. Dimensional Shambler:  A monster which can appear anywhere, and which drags its victims into another dimension?  Fantastic!  The shambler is great for stalking investigators and is a versatile foe, which emphasises the supernatural nature of the Mythos threat.


5. Shoggoth, what’s not to like about a bubbling, acidic creature that rolls like a monstrous freight train?  Okay, they're hunting cry is a little fruity, and because of their lethality the Shoggoth is often featured at the conclusion of scenarios, and can seem overpowering to players.  However, if you can manage some foreshadowing, and construct an environment which promotes investigator options, encounters need not be fatal. Surviving an encounter with a Shoggoth is a true badge of honour for any investigator.

 

The Art of Game Preparation

In my opinion, the essence of a good roleplaying game is preparation.  In the past I’ve discussed a some essential elements for any convention RPG, including constructing a solid pitch the role of chance in your game, constructing memorable scenes, and running action sequences.  Today I’ll look at some of the small, but essential elements that can really enhance a game experience, if you take the time to prepare them beforehand.  While I wrote this from the perspective of running a scenario at a convention, the same level of preparation also enhances any campaign:

A Pre-Flight Checklist – I don’t leave home without a one-page sheet which summarises everything I want to convey to the players from the moment they sit down at the table.   I've previously described this in detail here.  By setting this down in dot points I make sure I don’t forget anything important, or have to slow the pace of the game later to cover off something I’ve forgotten to mention from the beginning.  I find the list helps me structure what would otherwise be a bit of a rambling monologue.

Timekeeping – a watch or clock is essential.  It can be remarkably hard to keep a track of time when facilitating a game, and it is fairly crucial that you keep your game to time, and aren’t forced to rush through the final scenes.  Timing is not an exact science, and checking your watch will likely mean the players check theirs and start thinking about their next game, so I usually try and be discreet about it.  I’ve noticed (as a player) that often somewhere between a quarter and a third of the total time allocation is spent on initial introductions and explanations.  In a game where establishing the characters is important (Fiasco, Apoclypse World, EPOCH) this is fine, but in more traditional games with pre-generated characters this often means that the final scenes suffer.

Maps – Maps serve two important functions.  First they obviously convey relative information about places, which can be useful to emphasise information already provided or illustrate simply something which would be complex to describe.  Second, they implicitly tell the players that their characters are on the right track or operating within the anticipated scope of the scenario.  I often find that maps can be a useful synopsis of key information both at player and character level.  The key is to have them be as simple as possible, to avoid having the map become a distraction for the players.

Pictures or Art – as with a map, a picture can convey a lot in a much simpler and more artful way than can easily be described aloud.  I particularly use pictures when there are multiple NPC’s in the scenario (and hold up a picture of which NPC is talking to be absolutely clear for the players) or when there are monsters which might prove challenging to describe (stay tuned for my forthcoming post on Cthulhu Mythos monsters as an example).  Art can also be useful to convey mood and setting information, something I note that the grand experiment has made particular use of when running his scenarios.  When I picked up his scenario to run at short notice, the pictures included instantly and powerfully communicated a lot of information about the style, setting and intent of the scenario.

Name Tags – regardless of whether the players know each other before your game, they will soon ideally be referring to their characters by name.  To enhance and encourage this, you ideally want to provide name tags so that players can read, at a glance, character names.  Whether these are labels, folded pieces of card or laminated badges, a small effort before the game can make it that much easier to embrace characterisation. 

GM Screen or Rules Reference – only rarely do I use a GM screen raised at the table as I think it dampens down the collegiality of the game (and I never roll dice behind a screen), but I often leave it lying flat and use the table for rules quick reference, but even having post-it notes in a rulebook would suffice.  The secret is to flag any rules which are complex and likely to crop up during the scenario, so the exact text is at your fingertips.  Ideally you will make the core rules accessible to the players as well, either by putting them on character sheets in short form, or creating tabletop quick reference guides.

The Basics – There are a couple of more basic things you should also cover off for an optimal experience; if your game uses dice, bring enough dice for everyone, you don’t want the game being slowed at a crucial moment while people go searching for their dice, or ask to borrow some.  Bring enough pens or pencils for all the players - again, waiting to get a pencil to track damage or write a note can slow the flow of a game. Consider laminating handouts or other materials to try and avoid the table becoming a sea of paper and minimise the damage of an inevitable drink spill incident.  Have a copy of the ‘con timetable nearby so that you know when your round begins and ends as well as small scraps of paper for notes (both for yourself and the players).  And obviously make sure you have a copy of the scenario, relevant rules and character sheets ready to go.

Is there anything I’ve missed?  Feel free to add your own tips on game prep, or comment on mine. 

Pimp Your Game

The pitch is an important part of attracting players who want to play in a game that you facilitate.  Often we think about the pitch as essential for a convention game, where you are literally spruiking your game to strangers in the hopes that something about your description will appeal sufficiently for them to give you several hours of their time, and choose your offering over others. 

 

However, even when you are proposing a new game for your regular gaming group, a short, succinct and strong pitch will help focus attention on what you’re offering, and encourage the players to engage with that material.

 

In 2010 I wrote a post about The Art of the Pitch where I suggested that characteristics of a strong pitch are; a short and compelling piece of setting or fiction to pique the readers interest, and a description of what experience I might expect, as a player.  Both these pieces of information help potential players understand what is being offered, and ensure their expectations are closely aligned with those of the GM offering the game.

 

Bad Players or Bad Games?

 

Sometimes games fall flat, and the reasons for this are not obvious.  When this happens in a convention setting I’ve often heard the GM or facilitator complain about the players.  It’s a common response.  A GM has often spent hours carefully crafting a scenario, anticipating possible actions, and detailing characters – playtesting and preparing and so when the session falls flat, the variable over which the GM has had the least influence is the players, ergo, this must be the cause of the problem.

 

In EPOCH I argue there are no ‘bad’ players.  Only players that are not ‘activated’ and that it is possible for a GM to activate almost every player using a variety of techniques.  However, by far the most important technique is to ensure the players of the game are aligned with the style, an objective of the game that the GM wishes to run.

 

The most likely criteria for a such mismatch (in my experience) include:

• a game which features a strong investigative component
• a game which features a highly complex setting, characters or NPCs
• a game which relies on players absorbing significant amounts of detail, either character or system related to drive the action
• a game which requires the players to share narrative duties
• a game which has a strong combat focus.

This is not an exhaustive list by any stretch, but games which feature any of these elements strongly, and fail to communicate this to the players in advance, are more likely to fall at the first hurdle of player activation and result in a mismatch between GM and player expectations.

 

Pimping your game

 

So how to do it right?  Probably the most important tip for any game facilitator is to be honest about what the core activity of the scenario is.  What are you expecting of the players, and what is expected of their characters?  If you spell this out in advance, through the blurb or description of your game, then I think you are much more likely to find an audience that wants to play the same kind of scenario as you.

 

In my game, EPOCH, I provide 3 simple sentences for each scenario, after the blurb which provides the setting to help fulfil this criteria:

 

"EPOCH is a game of character-driven survival horror. The goal is to deliver a tense and scary experience in a single game session. EPOCH players are active participants in the creation of the game atmosphere and have complete control over the creation and ultimate fate of their characters."

 

However I was also very impressed with the description provided by venerable GM Marcus D. Bone for his Kapcon games here and here, which exemplify the kind of clear communication I'm proposing.

 

On the subject of good game blurbs, I'd also like to highlight the creative efforts of the grandexperiment who has adopted alternative media in lieu of text to create an arguably stronger initial impression with his potential audience.

Introducing New Games

Over on RPG.net there has recently been some talk about just how much GM-driven description is ideal for roleplaying games.  Some contend more description is better, others argue that too much description alienates players.  I think that if you play a campaign with some regular players, as a GM you probably have a good sense of which players enjoy description, and which are itching to interject and get started with their character’s interactions and the secret is finding the right balance to keep everyone happy.  But what about when you run a new game for the first time?  What about when you have a group of strangers at the table, as you might in a convention game?

New games often have an awful lot of information to convey.  Many have both a bespoke setting and a bespoke system.  Players will want to know from the moment they sit down, what sort of dice are needed?  What about character sheets?  Some will be focussed on the mechanics, seeking to draw comparisons with similar game systems, while others more interested in the setting, and the role of the PC’s.  And then there are many players who don’t engage at all from the outset, reserving judgement until later.

So, how to reconcile of the tension between a tremendous information dump, and not spending the first 30-45 minutes of the game talking about playing, rather than actually playing the game?  I personally find that an integrated approach works best, and here are the steps I generally employ as part of a 'pre-flight checklist' before every game.

1. Be well prepared before the game.  Think about how to describe it, and make sure you have all the props (pre-generated characters, handouts etc.) printed and ready to go.  I usually try to have the below list on a single page, with some dot points for each heading to jog my memory about what I’m going to say.
2. Talk about other stuff before the game.  Most important if you are running the game with strangers – it is important to get to know folks a little before the game begins and try and make sure everyone is comfortable  and engaged.  I usually ask about other games people have played, or other events at the ‘con.
3. Start with a purpose statement.  A high level description of what the game is about and what role the character will play.  If the game is about investigation or problem solving, it’s important to emphasise this here, so that the players understand the game dynamic from the outset.
   

   
4. Now it’s time to talk about system.  Unless you are using a system specifically designed for one-shots (Dread, Fiasco, EPOCH etc.) then you might need to consider making a cut-down or ‘lite’ version of the system and using only the mechanics that will actually be needed for the scenario you are running.  I try and customise character sheets where possible so only the information needed for the specific scenario is presented.  If combat is a major element of the game, I usually do a short introduction at this point, then revisit it later, when the characters have sheets in front of them, with an example in mind.  It’s important to keep this system description as short, and to-the-point as possible, and ask if there are any questions after each main point.  It’s likely there will be a recap of skill or combat rules when the scenario calls for this to occur, which should allow for additional reinforcement, and breaking up of the detail.
5. Now the setting, where does the game take place?  If it’s a high-concept setting then I usually try and have examples of other popular media to draw on and then explain the differences.  What role do the characters have in that setting?  Particularly flag the way that NPCs are likely to react to them in the context of the scenario, so everyone is one the same page when the game begins.
6. Break out the pre-generated characters or backgrounds. These should always be as short as possible, ideally no more than a couple of paragraphs.  More than that and it's likely that not all the players will absorb the details.  As an example, check out the way I set out pre-generated characters in Sundown, my Call of Cthulhu scenario of the Old West.  If you want the players to have more time to absorb the information, you might hand out the sheets at point 4 instead, but be aware that players may ignore subsequent description in favour of looking at their sheets.
7. Finally it’s time to begin the game.  I usually introduce each character first, either with a dedicated vignette scene, or by framing their arrival at a destination, and asking the player to add additional details, like a description of their character, then prompt them to embellish this with some additional detail and mannerisms.  Hopefully this way, all of the players understand each other's characters and are ready to interact when the scenario first puts them together.