A "Yes" Driven Game
In my years of gaming, I've run my fair share of games. The longest standing, most successful game I ever involved myself with was my own – a Sabbat war pack game in the Vampire: the Masquerade (V:tM) setting. Not to toot my own horn, but I've had some pretty great ideas for stories. I've had players stand before me and demand vehemently to know how my methods worked, and how certain events fell together. I've had players joke fondly of things that happened in my game nearly a decade later. Despite this, the strongest asset I bring to a game I run is my willingness to let players achieve their goals. Every player I've run for has named this as the primary reason they enjoy my games more. I know that when I play games on rPol.net, the games that lose my interest are the ones where the GM tells me “no” too many times. The following is a description of the methods I've developed. I do this in hopes of inspiring others to try telling players “yes” more.
Here are two GM's I played with to use as examples to illustrate points. I'll not use names for anonymity:
GM-N: GM-N is a great friend of mine, the longest standing friend I still care about. He's an honest and generous person, and a strong type-A personality. His organization skills surpass mine easily, and his stories were amazing. I can still remember the time I found I had an evil twin plotting to destroy me from at least 15 years ago. GM-N didn't like it when players didn't follow his intended path, however, and complications with how he ran his game inevitably sent each to an early grave.
GM-Y: GM-Y was one of the first GM's I ever played with, and the one that got me seriously hooked. I joined his game as a late add to an establish party. On my first session, the group had decided to completely ignore the main story to hunt wyverns based on some random information pertaining to a bounty. GM-Y laughed and rolled with it, and the session turned out to be quite fun. The group literally never went back to the original story, and GM-Y just kept chugging along joking and smiling. If this sets a tone for how he ran his game, I'll also mention he's still my favorite GM and the one I think about when I make many of my decisions.
These sections describe various topics pertaining to a "yes" driven game. In each of these areas, I've made mistakes and had to learn to improve:
Winning is Awesome
When I think, “Do I like to win or lose?” the answer comes easy. GM-N had a massive problem with this. Being a type-A personality, he liked to win more than he could ever admit to himself. He would claim that he wanted to make the game a “fun challenge.” In the last game I played with him, the players sat in a circle around him and asked the question, “Who are you making it fun for?” In one game, we had an item that carried a huge supply of resurrection spells, but we lost a level every time we came back. GM-N used this tool as an excuse to kill us over and over again. Sometimes we just got crushed by immensely powerful foes, and others he just killed us out of jest. The common belief within the group that this was actually his way of getting more wins in. Frequent death was a common occurrence in all of GM-N's games.
The problem is, when the GM “wins” the players lose. If a group consists of 1 GM and 4 players, this means that 80% of the people involved in the game lose. That's unfair. The GM cannot lose if the GM doesn't want to. Really the point is, why does the GM even win if the players lose? Roleplaying games are a collaborative effort among all involved to write a story better than any one person can tell. If the players win, they further their efforts, and the story improves. When the story improves, the GM also wins. Sure, player death happens. Player death also feeds the story. Further, difficulty is an important element in a good game, but when a GM crosses over that fine line into excess the game suffers.
Loot is Awesome
When I get some powerful item that enhances my character, I feel awesome. In one of GM-Y's sessions, we found a secret cove with a series of powerful items, one of each that seemed to fit each character perfectly. My item was a bow with special arrows affixed to the side, each of a different color. I had no idea what the arrows did, and I was so happy to have it. In fact, we were all so pleased with our items we didn't give GM-Y guff for putting such an unlikely thing into the game. In one of GM-N's games, I once went 8 levels (out of 20) without receiving a single piece of gear. I just kept getting more gold, more gold, more gold. Well, when we finally get out of these mountains we can finally find civilization and spend our gold, right? When we finally reached a town, it was too meager to carry items powerful enough to properly enhance our characters. Boy oh boy was that a fun session.
I look for ways to use items to feed the game. In the first game I ran on rPol, the setting included powerful artifacts that could literally ascend mortals to godhood. I wanted the players to assume that the long game was to procure one or more of these items. Instead, I gave them one right near the beginning and made the story about how to properly unlock the item's most powerful ability. By doing this, I not only hooked the players, I gave myself a great tool to create antagonistic situations. Doing these things can make for opportunity to implement fun challenges that players actually enjoy. I felt like if I was a player in that game, I would like it if from time to time, we got attacked because we had something so grand that everyone would want it if they knew I had it.
Some games don't have obvious loot like magic shields or boots that grant flying. Most of the games I ran were V:tM(a modern times setting), which doesn't really lend much to equipment-related awards. I can give them weapons that are hard to come by that will give them an edge against certain categories of enemies, but usually that doesn't quite cut it. So I'll reward my players with valuable information, powerful allies, maybe a drop on an enemy for an easy power play. I feel that if I can't wrap my head around a game system well enough to find ways to regularly award my players with “loot” I'd rather not run that system.
Players Cannot Read Minds
Whenever I'm writing out plot for my games, I can't help but picture what I think my characters will do in response. Sometimes they do exactly that, others they would do something a little different, and at times they would do things completely contrary to what I'd pictured. This would send GM-N into a fit. There were many times where I thought I had a great idea, but because it didn't fit GM-N's vision, he'd just shut it down. I didn't like it. One time, another player and I pulled an unexpected stunt that allowed us to capture an NPC who had knowledge valuable to us. Later that session, a coordinated attack fell on my character's head from which I had no chance of escape. Most of my experience with V:tM is as GM, so this was the only character I've ever had a chance to play for that game, and that's how he died. How does that feed the story?
When I'm the GM, I have the world at my fingertips, and my players get exactly one piece of that world. If they get one over on me, they deserve praise. I encourage them to do so. The more they keep me on my toes, the more events that take place in ways better than what I come can up with by myself. This lies at the very core of the collaborative story telling idea. If one particular player does something clever, I'll try to come up with a way to award that character for the extra effort. When the other players see that award, it encourages them to find their own clever ways to seek similar reward, which further feeds the story. This also gave me a way to jog the game along if I had need for a little filler.
When I found the bow I previously mentioned from GM-Y's game, myself and another player found the cove on accident while carrying on doing silly things. GM-Y told us that if we hadn't done that , he would have let us leave without the items. The most important thing to note here is that I knew GM-Y well enough to know if we had missed those items, he wouldn't have admonished us for it, even though he probably put a lot of work into them. In my games, players accidentally pass over important events all the time. Instead of punishing players for missing out on things, I award them for the things they did catch on to. When the players do something so sideways I never would have predicted it in a million years, I remember that first session of GM-Y's game and try to find a way to keep the game fun.
Every Player Matters
I failed miserably with this in the first game I ran. By the end of it, I had some players who held considerable power, others who told me they just felt irrelevant, and some who died as a result of my controlling behavior. That was just bad. This is an area where GM-Y also failed. He would put these little pranks into the game, with subtle hints to avoid them. My friend (who introduced me to the game) and I didn't really ever fall for this. The other players were pretty unintelligent people, so they walked into every prank face first. At the time, I had a great time laughing at those players, but I now realize how unfair it was for GM-Y to purposely include mechanics that made the game more fun for some at the expense of others.
In every game I run, there are characters I like more than others for this or that reason. It's important for me to remember not to allow this bias to dictate how I treat my players. In the introduction I mentioned my most successful game. One of my players drove me up the wall. All he wanted to do was power game, and run around killing things. Normally my V:tM games will see combat roughly once every two months. I don't like to power game, I like to pay attention to the nuances of my character, such as how he talks, or how his parents treated him and how that shaped who he is. Every other player I had saw it this way. The power gamer had his character basically just act like how he normally would, except with super powers.
Remembering my first game, I decided to make sure the game would be fun for every character which led to my decision to build the game around a Sabbat war pack, which would more easily facilitate a more combat heavy game. This game instead had a combat scene about once every other session. The other players wound up enjoying the difference, and I was still able to leave them plenty of space to get their roleplaying in. Further because I stepped into territories unfamiliar, I got outsmarted more often, and the game went great for it. I can honestly say that that game wouldn't have shone over my others if I hadn't made that switch. This was also the power gamer's first roleplaying experience, and by not allowing my biases to dictate my actions, I was able to deliver a great first game to him. Gone the other way, I could have ruined roleplaying for him.
By the end portions of that game, the players had earned so many rewards that I started to lose control of the game. This is the type of thing that would make GM-N's butthole pucker right up. He would have shut it down before it got to that point. Why, then, Mr. GM-N, do you still love to tell stories about your many accomplishments within that game, even 8-10 years later? When the game got so out of hand, I noticed the players had a blast, so I had a blast. It also took them about 2 years of weekly play to reach that level of power, so the sense of accomplishment lasted to the point that those players still tell me that that game is their favorite.
In any game, there will a bell curve that exists with the players. I'll have a small amount of weak players and a small amount of strong players. Keeping the weak players engaged can present obstacles. In the above example I kept the weak player involved by throwing in a mechanic before the start, but I don't always get that lucky. Sometimes the problem can present itself later on, after things are rolling. This is where my plan to throw in mini-quests for loot also functions to give a struggling player to find more fun with the game. The mini-quest could pertain to his background. The important thing to remember is that if this character is in a group, the mission should be fun and rewarding for all. If the need for a mini-quest has more to do with motivation than balance of wealth I just go with more loot for everyone. Also if I do this, I have to try to find time to do stuff like this for the other players so they don't feel left out.
In my first game, I paid too much attention to the strong players, allowing the weak players to get left in the dust. This is a clear mistake to see from an outside perspective. The flip side of the coin is putting too much effort into the weak players so that the strong players get bored. I have to keep in mind that the strong players are likely doing the most to drive the game, so I have to keep them motivated. Another thing that I might forget if I'm not careful is to give time to the players in the middle of the bell curve. These are the bulk of my players and I must remember not to lump them into a bunch in my mind. They are individually important, and they deserve my attention just as much.
Is There Such Thing as Saying “Yes” Too Much?
There is absolutely such thing as saying "yes" too much. If I were in a game where I'm playing exactly my human self, I'm going to die if I jump off a 10 story building no matter what. Letting some players go too far can hurt the game for others. One time, I had a player depicting a vampire who was turned as a child. Another player thought it would be funny to hold him down and vomit blood all over his head in front of the group. Keep in mind that these are evil vampires. I can say I'm in no hurry to walk into a crip neighborhood, hold one down, and start puking on him in front of his crip buddies. That's an extreme example, but ridiculous actions just can't be allowed.
Luckily for us on rPol.net, there's many great ways to mediate this while minimizing a feeling of punishment. In my table top games, I ran for whichever of my friends decided to show up. Here, I can be much pickier. Through careful use of my RTJ process, I can weed out players that I think will hurt the game before it starts. Even if one sneaks past my radar, I can remove the player if it comes to it. I still hate telling these players “no,” but I have to realize that if I have a caustic player, I'm telling one person “no” for the good of all the others.
There's also such thing as too much loot. When players get too much loot, it stops feeling special. The main thing here is to make sure that loot is properly earned, to give that sense of accomplishment. When I mentioned earlier that I like to give players loot for going the extra mile, that doesn't mean you necessarily have to do that every time. If you do, the characters may get so lost conducting strange menial tasks that the story grinds to a halt. Player A finds an opportunity to sneak away from a moderate sized gathering and searches an off-limits section of the scene. I may or may not drop an ancient manuscript on a bookshelf within the area of that search. Player B goes and starts flipping beds in an area of no apparent importance. He finds bedbugs. Player C pokes a dragon with his sword until it wakes. He is dead. I do keep careful track of how long it's been since I've given my players loot, so I don't leave anyone dried out for too long, even if I have to shoe horn some manner of “mini mission” in to even things out. This is also useful to prevent loading up one to the point where others feel weak.
There will also be situations where my answer must be a hard "no." Often this is for reasons I can't yet divulge to my players. I put my foot down. Just because I want my players to overcome my challenges doesn't mean I can let them push me over. Sure I want my players to out do me, but I'm not going to make it easy either. To mediate this, I try to approach each situation as if "yes" is my automatic answer. Then I think about why I would say "no." Depending on which side makes more sense, I make a ruling. I feel that by approaching from the side of wanting to say "yes" first, however, I can better keep my mind open to the players' ideas.
Conclusion:
These were the main topics I came up with. By no means do I think I'm the best GM that ever walked the Earth, but I think I'm far above average, chiefly because I say “yes” so much. I would also like to say a little something about GM-N. I've been pretty harsh talking about him, but this is because I've used him to represent bad examples. There are many reasons why I kept joining his games. When we did manage to go along with the story, those were the best stories of any games I played. He would have these crazy mini stories that would come together into some interlocking major theme that would span a year or more. This would often lead into a meatier story. I'd never see it coming, and my pants would never wash clean afterwards.
I hope this information proves helpful. I hope by writing this article, I can inspire GM's and aspiring GM's to take more time to think about how they can play alongside their players, rather than against them. Of course, each GM won't have the same exact style, as each has his or her own distinct personality. Take my advice with a grain of salt, and don't hesitate to look for ways to change it to better suit your own ways.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:06, Mon 30 Oct 2017.
