Sunday, April 29, 2018

Who is Responsible

The following sequence rose from events played in the first days of the Senex Campaign.

This was, in fact, the first day of the first game that I ran online.  It was quite an education for me ~ the players and their approach took me completely by surprise, so much that eventually I was to lose patience with them.

I had run with a wide number of groups between 1979 and 1985 ... but after that, most of my experience was with a very steady group with which I played for another ten years.  Following the break-up of that group in mid '94, which occurred because of job opportunities, marriage and other issues, my gaming became sporadic.  I would get in a running now and then, but probably less than six times a year ... and by 1998, even that stopped.  I would not find a group until 2004 ... which happened because my daughter wanted me to run her and her friends.  I still run that game, even though they are now almost all in their 30s.

During this long separation from the mainstream of the D&D Community, in which I had retained a lot of my original beliefs about the game, the WOTC shifted the rule system in a very different direction.  This created a different kind of player.  What, I am sorry to say, was a very lazy character.  I hope to explain how.

An actual tavern at Rothenburg, only 198 km north by
northwest of Dachau.  So, fairly accurate.
Having rolled up the characters online through the previous week, I decided to start the characters off on the porch of a tavern in the 1650 town of Dachau, some centuries before that town became famous for something else.  As I remember, the players wanted to start in Germany, and I was looking for somewhere wit access to large cities, the mountains, the Black Forest and easy transport by river.

At the time, I had no idea how cliched this idea was; I had not spent twenty years reading hundreds of game modules that included the motif ... and at any rate, I had no plans whatsoever to follow any parts of the cliche except the presence of the tavern itself.

The inn I had in mind was not far from the one pictured, but I did not possess this picture in 2009.  Primarily, I wanted to give the players a home base; a place to sleep, rest, be recognized by the proprietor, who might save them a room while they adventured in the area.  I called the tavern & inn simply "The Pig" and the bartender Helmunt.  I started them sitting in the open air, looking at the square, explaining,
DM: You’re bored. This has been the routine for nearly two months now. You four, Tiberius, Josef, Delfig and Anshelm, met on a cold morning in mid-spring (for the region), finding yourselves all strangers, fairly compatible with one another and equally of the opinion that many of the vicissitudes of life are unappreciated by most. At the moment, however, you could stand a few more changes than there have been.

To my mind, this was to suggest they get off their feet and do something.  If they had sat there for two months and no adventure had presented itself to them, then it should be clear that it was time to make an adventure happen.

This is not how the players read it.  In fact, they made nothing of what I had said about the routine dragging on.  I did not know at the time, see, that D&D players were very used to having everything handed to them on a silver platter.  I had been blogging only nine months.  I had not played in a group with strangers in more than ten years ~ and then only briefly.  So I was unprepared for the response, as I'm sure thousands of DMs are, who think to themselves, "I'm going to run a sandbox adventure."
Delfig: Has anyone visited "das Schwein" that would have given us a reason to think they might have something interesting to talk to them about?  Was anything said/done at the May festival that would have be interesting to follow up on?  Anything interesting in terms of other "strangers" in town?
I'll most likely be idly strumming my lyre and humming, seeing if anyone is interested in a song (and parting with a few coins in appreciation).
Anshelm: Anshelm spits and gestures at the market goers. "Like little rats, out and back to their holes." He reaches for his snuff box.
Anything unusual going on among the merchants and common folk? Any unusual people? Even if it's not unusual, anyone look like their casing the crowd for an easy mark?


Mind, dear reader, that this was all written in text.  I wrote quite clearly, "You could stand a few more changes" ~ and the first two answers I received were, "Have there been any changes?"  It is no wonder that new DMs and experienced DMs are driven to distraction.

I'd like to note, as the game progressed, Delfig and Anshelm proved to be the most diligent and invested of the party; they built good characters, talked in character regularly without chewing the scenery with purple prose, they responded to the twists and turns of the campaign with a strong immersive bent and, on the whole, they were fun to run.  But it took time.

But ... they had been trained by the games of their youth.  Like any modern player, they sat back and expected me to provide a juicy rumor, a convenient stranger, a target for their action ... anything, as long as I did it for them.  This has been an ever-present issue with all the games I've run online, though I think I handle it better now, as I expect it.  At the time I was curt.  I had heard about this nonsense, in comments that had been put to me on the blog for nine months, but I assumed that people willing to run in a game of mine would be aware of my prejudices.

Oh hell, I was rude.
DM: Gentlemen.  This is not a "story" campaign. There's no rule, no plan, no set up. Nothing will be handed to you on a plate. You will have to make a decision about what you, as a group, want to "do" and then set about doing it.  I know you're not used to that. But sadly, there are no "unusual" people.

So there we were.  I had finished my introductory post in and around 8:30 that morning.  By 9:20, I was already beating up the players for expecting me to run a game I had no intention of running.

Of course I felt I was in the right.  It wasn't a matter of "a right way to play," though most I suspect would read the situation that way.  Most view D&D, or any other role-playing game, in the light of any other game.  If our group decides this is a good evening to play Settlers of Catan, naturally we all have a certain expectation for how that game is going to go.  If, as a DM, I egregiously redefine a familiar game, played in a familiar way, by players who have had five or more years of experience, what right do I have to expect others to change?

It brings up a few worthy discussions: how much responsibility does an individual DM have where it comes to running a game in the way that the players expect?  And contrariwise, how much real value does "ten years of playing D&D" have, if it is in a certain type of game, where the DM acts in a certain way, that cannot be translated easily to another DM?

I've come to wonder about things like this in the last ten years, as I have had my consciousness enlightened.  Not as regards to the way I personally desire to play ~ and I have no intention of ever running a game that doesn't fit with my philosophies ~ but in terms of how to present my game, and who to present it too, and how to manage players who are clearly not a good fit with that game.

At the time, however, I was not prepared how fixed players were on being serviced by the DM.  Each of these replies came long enough after my above rudeness to ensure the players had time to read what I said.
Josef: I'll ask Helmunt the next time he comes to the table if he knows of any legends or rumors of the town or vicinity where profit might be gained by adventurers such as ourselves.
Tiberius: "Gentlemen," Tiberius says while taking a slow swig of his drink. "We're all bored. No disrespect to our fine patron for the free beer, of course." Tiberius salutes the owner. "But, why don't we hire ourselves out to one of those merchants and see if we can't see some real action?"
Anshelm: "Eh, why shouldn't we? It's better than chasing errant rats back to their hiding holes. Should we wait for friend Kazimir?"  Anshelm continues scanning the market crowd while speaking.  "Not sure I like the look of any of 'em, though..."
Delfig: Nods to himself as he remembers a request. He digs in his pouch, fishes out four silver and tosses it to Josef.  "I know I'll see that again... especially when we get off our collective asses and start seeing what we can see. Lets wander about and see what is happening."  With that, Delfig will stand and start walking about the marketplace, strumming his lyre. If any seem interested, he'll greet them and play a bit if they seem interested. He makes sure to approach the various merchants, nods and smiles and calls out a friendly greeting. If any seem inclined to talk, then he'll start a conversation with them, inquiring to any local news or if they have any sort of interesting work.


Take note how deeply ingrained is this notion that I am going to create an adventure and give it to them.  In spite of my admonishment, every one of the four above came up with a slightly more subtle way of asking the same request: "Please give us an adventure."

Josef decides that the problem is that the party is asking the DM; perhaps if he asks the bartender instead, he'll get the answer I've just told him he's not going to get.

Tiberius suggests taking a job, which will take the party presumably to somewhere where something ~ planned by me ~ will happen.  They'll "see."  Seeing is passive.  It's a waiting game.

Anselm agrees ... and makes reference to something else I did not know at the time was a cliche: the notion that if a party has nothing else to do, they can wander around a city killing giant rats.  I understand why this doesn't appeal.  Plainly, many a sandbox DM has "offered" this as an option to bored parties, looking to make their own adventure.  Bleh.  Waiting and seeing definitely is a better choice.

Then Delfig goes all out.  Instead of getting a job, they'll wander around and "see."  As a bard, he hopes his lyre will draw some sort of attention.  Perhaps a passing merchant might approach the party.  And know if there is anything strange and interesting going on.

In real time, a full day goes by before I answer.  I remember deciding that it wouldn't do any good to repeat myself, and that the right tactic would be to let the world & game dictate the limitations on what the party could or could not do.

Right off, the bard is only first level.  Dachau is a town of almost 4,000, so Delfig is obviously not the best musician around ... and so I gave him the same treatment that any ordinary busker would get if walking about a downtown core, pestering business folk:
DM: People show a vague interest in Delfig; but of course, they've seen him before, doing exactly this most every day, and frankly, there are better bards in the town.

Then I set about hinting (using the bartender Helmunt) that before Tiberius and the rest could hope to be guards for a caravan, they would have to get themselves bonded.  Why would merchants, transporting their livelihood along dangerous roads, take on total strangers that might steal the cargo themselves?  How does that make any sense?  At this point (among questions and answers surrounding the party trying to create something or get themselves noticed), Tiberius asks the right question.
Tiberius: What do we have to do to get bonded to the merchant's guild? Can Helmunt get us an introduction to someone over there?
DM: To get bonded, you must have a merchant of the guild vouch for you.
Delfig [to Helmunt]: "Of course we're bonded! We will inquire with the guild, my good man."
After guiding Tiberius away, I would say "Perhaps we should inquire to the merchants guild and see about becoming 'bonded' since such things have escaped any of our attention. While you and Josef do that, perhaps Anshelm and I can move to the northern road and see what we can see. We'll meet here in a couple of hours if we don't hear from you."
If I don't hear that exchange, then I'll go looking for my mates and make a similar suggestion.
Couple of setting questions - Are there more than one guild of merchants? Do any larger merchants have homes established here that we would know about? Where could we find notices of news or other things going on, aside from rumor and listening at the drinking holes? (I am trying to think like a bored medieval bard in Dachau).

This is most promising.  The party has correctly identified the problem and has some notion that it is a problem that can be solved.  This is not me handing them an adventure; this is a recognition that the party lacks a certain status that they want.  Good.

I'll stop for a moment and address the philosophy that as a DM, I could easily make this a much easier situation for the party by saying YES instead of NO to the party's ideas.  This is true.  I could have easily had the party spy some stranger robbing passersby, so that the party could go after the thief, starting the adventure.  I could have easily said that a stranger was taking a room at The Pig, creating all sorts of descriptions of why the stranger was concerning, allowing the party to approach the stranger in order to find out what was up.  And that could definitely have started an adventure.  I could have had a businessman walk up to the bard, to say, "You play well, will you come play at the wedding of my daughter?  We can't get a musician because she's marrying a dwarf, and everyone around here considers that appalling," thus setting up a scene of violence at the wedding.

I could have created All Sorts Of Adventures for the party to follow, and started the campaign off with a bang.  Just as it is constantly touted as the only way to run a game, by virtually everyone who will tell you that your job as DM is to have something exciting happen to the party, to win their attention and make them interested.

Thus you should never, as I did, say No.  You should not deny them instant gratification for any scheme they might invent off the cuff, such as I did.  You shouldn't require that they get someone's approval before becoming, say, guards of someone else's treasure ~ surely you, as a store owner, would never hesitate to hand over the store's keys to a stranger you just hired that morning, without first checking up on them, right?

This thinking has been encouraged by DMs who find themselves faced with players who expect to hear, "Yes," no matter what they propose.  As the players approach every game with the philosophy, stand around and surely something will happen, the responsibility has been rolled onto the DMs shoulders to make something happen.

I disagree ... and saying so, I warn any DM who tries to stand on my side of the fence isn't going to have an easy time of it.  Players don't want to be responsible for their own adventure.  Most players don't know HOW to be responsible ... and it can irritate, exacerbate and drive away players who are particularly weened on the dictate, "The DM is responsible for the players having a good time." That is the way most of the role-playing community plays and that is the advice most of the role-playing community gives.  The Gentle Reader will find that disagreeing with that dictate can produce quite a lot of blow-back.

But there are things to be gained by playing the reverse, arguing that the Player is responsible for the Player having a good time [notice how much more that reflects most arguments about how responsibility works].

Whatever the adventure is, however it plays out, however much the players lose or gain from their risk or idea, the players know who deserves the praiseIt's them.  They took the risks, they had the idea, they played it through and they won or lost.  Which they can do so proudly, with head held high, knowing that they had their hands on the stick all the time.  This makes victory sweeter; it makes failure more comprehensible and tolerable.  It educates.  It creates a pattern of thinking that enables the player to feel the thrill of personal ambition and achievement.  It is their win.  No one else can lay claim to it.

As DM, I didn't give them the win.  However I might have set up the playing field, every choice was the players' to make and they won't fault me unless I am clearly playing to block them.  I never play this way.  I play to make my obstacles reasonable and rational.  They want to be bonded by the merchant's guild.  Well, that's not hard.  All they need is a friend who is a merchant.  Surely, they can find one such friend, or make one such friend.

The "Yes" argument is that I should produce a friend and give it to them.  But how is that an accomplishment?  How is that "play?"  Rationally, the players should have to play for a friend.  Figure out what to do to bring a single merchant into their camp ... and figure it out on their own, without my giving it to them.

Unfortunately ... and you may presume I put several exclamation points after that ... players who are not skilled, or adapted, or have the expectation of doing for themselves are apt to take actions that are, shall we say, bad.  The reader can see what I mean by reading the Senex resources as they become available.

And we shall talk about that with the next post.