[Orccon][HeroQuest] In Glorantha, of all places!
Christopher Kubasik:
I ran a game for three players at Orccon this past Sunday morning. (I ran two other games at the con: Primetime Adventures and Pendragon. I plan on doing an AP for the Pendragon game as well.)
I had meant to prep a lot more for this game. But a deadline on a project and a big investment of time getting the Pendragon game meant I was grabbing snatches of reading on Glorantha -- but nothing in-depth.
I had it in my head to walk in with an actual scenario, since this was a con game and time would be tight and I'd want to get things going, so I wanted to give the players a mission. Like this: A Heortling chieftain was going to have fallen in love with a woman from the Lunar Empire while she traveled through Dragon Pass. You know, all Iliad-like. And the PCs were going to have to get her.
I was up at 7 am that morning to grab more reading and write up notes for a 10 am game. At 9:30 I surrendered.
But I had nothing. And my rule is, If you've got nothing, don't fake that you have nothing. Make the players do the work for you instead!
So, this is what I walked into the room with:
I had familiarized myself with the rules I had skimmed the core book and Thunder Rebels for as much Heortling info as I could grab (paying attention to details about the tension between the Lunar Empire and the Heortlings, and what the Lunar occupation has done to the Heortling tribes. I was especially intrigued with the notion that some Orlanthi have turned to the Lunar gods) I had made some decisions on what I wanted to focus on during character creation and introducing the game.
I remembered something Ron wrote that'd I'd tracked down while digging up threads on playing HeroQuest: "Flags are not enough, you need situation, too." Well, damn, I suddenly thought. I've got Heortlings, I've got the Lunar Empire, I've got an occupation. That's enough situation for me! Let's rock this thing. (I'm cocky that way when it comes to story stuff.)
And that's what I walked into the room with.
I had three players for the game: Chris, Scott and David. Chris and Scott had never played HeroQuest before (just like me!) and knew nothing about Glorantha (almost just like me!)
Luckily, David was terrifically familiar with both the rules and the setting and was the best wing-man a GM could ever hope for. I repeatedly turned to him for color issues: "It would be really great if Scott's PC could be plugged into the secret revolt being planned," I might say, and David would respond with a quick break down of the Heortling rebellion and all the color details. (Thanks David!)
So, I start laying out the world details, telling them about the Heortlings and the Lunar Empire. The occupation. The Heortlings, fierce, proud, blah, blah, blah... The Lunars, dull, stifled, living in cities that might as well be prisons. I tell them how the Lunars actually raised the Red Moon into the sky. I tell them the Gods are real in this world.
Scott asks, "It's called Dragon Pass. Are there really dragons?" I say, "You see mountains from your village that were actually dropped by the gods to crush dragons." I can see Scott and Chris looking at me like, "Nice story. But what are we going to be killing?" David tells Scott and Chris that the spine of a nearby mountain range is actually the spiny back of a huge dragon buried under the earth centuries ago. And I go, "It's true!! It's true!! It's really true!! This is the kind of world you're living in!!!" And their eyes change and you see them start to get the setting. "It's a world of myth!" I say, so happy to finally be running in a game in a world of myth. "Everything in this world is magic! The world is MADE OF MYTH!"
I tell them that some Heortlings are beginning to betray Orlanth. "Up north," I say, "word is that some of your people are worshipping the Red Goddess!"
I start breaking out the rules. It's going to be 100-word descriptions. There are certain games, I think, that die if you give pre-generated characters. I need to know, as a GM, that the players are getting to play what they are invested or interested in playing one way or another. And so, for me, letting them come up with the details is really important. Yes, we lose a lot of time doing. But, yes, I consider it part of play -- a fun part of play -- so this is how I do it.
And they're looking down at their blank character sheets, and I'm like, "And personalities can be a trait, and relationships can be a trait.... And it's all about family and connections and your tribe, blah, blah, blah, Glorantha."
And Chris, who had never played before says, "Okay. How about if we're all family. Like I'm the father and you two are sons."
I jump in fast but calm: "Guys if you like that idea, cool. But we're just bouncing ideas. Anyone can suggest anything, but if it's about your character, just so no if you're not interested and we'll keep moving on till you get what you want."
But Scott and David like the ideas of being sons, so we go with that.
Then the Chris says, "Okay. My guy? His wife died a few months ago. And I'm already courting another woman."
Scott jumps in with, "And my guy, he really doesn't like that."
And David says, "And the woman, she's secretly worshipping the Red Goddess."
And Chris goes, "Great!"
And Scott goes, "And I'm in the secret organization getting ready for the revolt against the Empire and dad and my brother don't know."
And Chris goes, "And the new girlfriend I'm involved with -- she's already pregnant."
And I'm like trembling with an unexpected RPG con game orgasm. I mean, how the heck did that happen? I know we can't lose. My players are, in fact, doing all my work for me.
They're underlining words in their descriptions. We're breaking out Key Words. We're adding new words as they start grasping the flexibility of the system.
Scott has Torkan, the younger son, and writes down "Rabble-rouser 13."
Chris has Alandres, the father and writes down, "Ashamed of Son 13"
Scott writes down, "Hates Father 13"
David creates Iskalli, a skal and devotee of Orlanth's aspect of Destor.
Alandres is courting Daleeta, who is both carrying Alandres' child, but also is secretly worshipping the Red Goddess.
Chris describes Alandres as melancholy and broken since his wife's death. He's in mourning and it's going on too long. He gives Alandres a Mourning Wife 13.
It goes like this. We're laughing, having fun. A couple of times the players start narrating out what happens when they found out about Daleeta, or how they'll react, but I go, "Whoa, whoa, whoa... Save it for play!"
So.... It takes an HOUR AND A HALF. I got cocky. My group on Saturday night had hammered out their Knights for the Pendragon game in 35 minutes and I didn't keep an eye on the clock.
But it was worth it. David kept adding in details. These guys got a better and better grasp on the world.
I ask the all to right down goals on the Goals line of the character sheet. This is a new concept for a couple of them, but they're on it.
Chris writes for Alandres, "To get over mourning wife."
Scott writes down, "To spark the rebellion against the Lunar Empire."
David writes, "To protect and preserve the ways and worship of Orlanthi."
I'm like GREAT. But then I don't know how to start, and I say, "We're going to write Kickers. Just tell me where you are when something happens of significance that demands a choice."
Not every game needs Kickers. Some games are ruined by Kickers. But I know this games is waiting for Kickers.
Chris says, "I find out Daleeta is pregnant."
Scott says, "I find out Daleeta is pregnant."
David says, "I found out Daleeta is worshipping the Red Goddess."
WHAM!
And with that we started play.
More later.
CK
jburneko:
Damn, Christopher, this almost gives me the confidence to run Sorcerer & Sword from scratch in a con environment.
Jesse
Web_Weaver:
Hi CK,
The write-up so far makes me very happy, even if it all goes downhill from here, so far its a text book example of how HQ can be used, and indeed how Glorantha doesn't have to be weighed down by the huge imposing library of material.
I await the rest of the report with keen interest, but will keep the questions that I have until you have finished.
Christopher Kubasik:
CREATIVE AGENDA & CREATIVE PROCEDURES
Jesse and Jamie touched on a couple of issues I want to discuss before getting back to recounting the game. (And Jamie -- just to blow all the tension, the game went great.)
Now, clearly, I was blessed with three great players who stepped right up to the plate in terms of creating conflict and story material. I'd almost lay it all at their feet, frankly, since I got exactly what I wanted from the game, but didn't come in with a lot of prepped material.
Upon reflection, however, I realized that since I got exactly what I wanted, I probably did do something to facilitate that. So I thought about how I framed how play was going to go, in terms of what I did and what I said to the players.
So, here's some things I said or did, in no particular order:
I always make people introduce each other at a convention table. I set a tone by shaking hands and introducing myself to each person by name one by one. Invariably, everyone else follows suit. At many convention games I'd seen people hide behind their character for a couple of hours. I'm not too fond of that. I need everyone at the table feeling like we are about to do something together. Hence the introductions. Just names and a handshake. I have no data that says that this is important, but it certainly can't hurt. And the truth is, I think it's incredibly important.
I said a few things that got people in line with my agenda. I'll list some below. I tend to say these things at games I GM at cons. Sometimes I'll mention them at the start of the game, other times I'll bring them up when I see someone get confused or fidgety or anxious.
I should note that I don't say all the words listed below. You're going to be reading all the phrases and sentences I have at hand in order to get the person I'm talking with to understand.
I should add that I have no idea how the words are going to read on the screen, but the tone in actual conversation is warm, calm and encouraging.
Here's something I usually as we head into character creation: "Okay, now, as you make your character, here's the thing you have to keep in mind: I need you to make a character that touches on the interests and emotions and moral issues and themes that interest you -- the player. Not the character. You. Your character is just a vehicle for something you want to address or explore in the game. So where your writing stuff down on the character sheet, try to find the thing that matter to you."
Here's something I also often say at convention games: "Okay, you know how sometimes we often remember how someone said, 'Okay, I'm going to go upstairs,' and then a few minutes later a scene comes up and the person says, 'I'm there,' and then someone else says, 'No, no, you said you were going upstairs.' Or we sometimes catch someone by saying, 'But you didn't say you were inviting Suzi along!' Well, we don't do that here. It's a kind of game of 'Gotcha!' and it's really not what I'm interested in playing. Here's the thing. If someone wants to retro fit a declaration or something they said, and it will cost us nothing to do the retro fit -- that is, if the previously declared action has moved any new story content into being -- I'm going to let the person do it. We're not here to catch each other up by holding 417 pieces of fictional content in our heads that haven't had any impact yet. I'm here for great scene content. And anything that helps great scene content is having you guys involved with and saying what you want to participate in and do. So keep in mind we're going to be kind of social here. We're going to have some give and take on occasion as we generate ideas, shift things around a bit. The first thing out of your mouth isn't the truth. I'm not here to trap you with misspoken words. We're hear to work together to inspire each other to great scene content."
Here's another thing I often say at cons, usually when I see a look of panic in someone's eyes early on as scene cut from one player to another: "Okay. Look. I know we're used to having parties, where everyone's in the scene together and everyone's 'on camera' together. That's not going to be the rule here. I know that might feel like you're not 'on' sometimes, that you're just waiting. But that hasn't been my experience. In my experience, because you guys built PCs with agendas and issues you care about, and because you can actually do anything you want with your character in terms of choices, you'll probably end up paying attention -- a lot -- to each other's characters, even when it's not your turn for your character to be 'on camera.' That's what I've observed at least. So give it a try and see how it works." (This always pans out to this end.)
I laid out a quick, underlying "imaginative cue list" for the game. As noted in the first post, I did a quick recap of Glorantha for the players. While reviewing the setting materials, I picked out the following key elements that I thought would be good cues for situation and character elements for the Players to grab onto:
the vital importance of community and family for the
the fact that the gods are real and a vital part of every day life
that the Heortlings are vital, freedom loving people
that the Lunar Empire has moved into Dragon Pass and outlawed the worship of Orlanth
that several tribes have submitted to the religious law of the Lunars
that a rebellion is fermenting
quick-sketch color descriptions of Heortling daily life: the long house, the farms, daily worship and activities
If you look back at the PCs above, you'll see that the Players drew all this into play when creating their characters. In fact, their characters ARE everything on that list.
This is why and how a game where the GM lets the Players create their own characters and come with their own agendas doesn't spin out of control. I might not have an adventure in mind for the PCs, but I certainly laid down a LOT of parameters for the Players.
A clear metaphor, for me, is that the list above serve as Strange Attractors from Chaos Theory, where we build a result that starts from the Strange Attractors, which constantly is drawn back to the Strange Attractors (that list above) to build a pattern (the resulting narrative play) that we could not anticipate ahead of time but still i structured and produces a satisfying and coherent pattern because of the Strange Attractors. (Disclaimer: all references to Chaos Theory are used by a layman, and a writer to boot, who is often much more interested in metaphor than technical precision!)
I used GM authority happily and confidently. A few years ago when I started playing Rags again, using all the wonderful new stuff that people had started designing. From my readings of threads on The Forge, as well as the texts of the games themselves (as well as my own desires as listed in that Interactive Toolkit essay I wrote for In phobia Magazine years ago) I really, really wanted to lay a lot of responsibility on the Players for creative content and control.
Things went wrong pretty fast in play. Because the Players, I believe now, had no creative force to push against. I kept expecting them to do something. And they, rightly, expected me to offer something to do something with.
Now, I knew I didn't want to hand them an "adventure" or "plot." So it took a bit more time to sort out scene framing, Kickers, bangs and other techniques that put the GM in the driver's seat in many, many ways. It was a couple of games of Primetime Adventures I ran at a local con last year that helped make this very clear to me. When I didnt produce with a heavy hand -- CHAOS! When I produced with a heavy hand -- COOL TV SHOW!
So what do I mean a heavy hand? Well, quickly, here's what I dont mean: guiding the Players to certain choices or beats of story; dictating how things will turn out; cheating/fudging dice rolls to get a certain result; ignoring rules that might get in the way of "the story."
So here's what I do mean: Setting creative parameters (as described immediately above); guiding Players back to the tone and setting color if they start to stray; pushing toward elements that make narrative and dramatic narrative fun: conflicts, revelations, reversals, great color detail from players as they describe things.
Some examples:
Example One: One of the Players in the HeroQuest game created a "blacksmith." Now there was a lot going on in those first few moments of ideas being tossed around when we started creating characters, and so although there was some part of my brain that said, "There are no Heortling blacksmiths -- this just isn't something these people do..." But I ignored it because everyone was tossing out ideas.
Then, a few minutes later, he started adding detail about being a blacksmith and I finally remembered, "Oh, yeah... Metal is magical in Glorantha. You need to use magic to harden metals into useful weapons... Oh, the hell with it, he's really invested in this, don't take it away from him." After all, it was a one shot, I couldn't imagine how blacksmithing was going to be a vital part of the story, and he was making the gesture of big shoulder and buff arms as he got into character. He'd already claimed the idea and had been investing it in for several minutes, so I said, "sure."
Then, when he was sorting out some of his Personality Traits he said, "So, when we're all down at the tavern, I get everyone riled up at the Lunars..." and this time, realizing I didn't want him wandering too far from the creative parameters I said, "Remember, there are no taverns. You've got the long house, with ten farms around that, and then another ten farms around that." He goes, "Right, right."
But then, when we're framing the scene for his Kicker, he says, "So, I'm at the pub after work..." And I realize he's -- rightly -- grabbing at all the stuff he's used to playing from other games to set color context for scene framing. But the hell I'm going to let him introduce a pub into the middle of a Heortling village. So I remind him again, "There's no pub. There's a long house... Grandmothers and Grandfather sitting around the sacred hearth. Cats and kids padding around...." But we end up framing it at his anvil and go from there.
So, for those of you afraid of chaos if the Players have any sort of directorial control, remember the GM has LOTS and LOTS of authority here. The key thing is to know for yourself what your boundaries are. For me, keeping a consistency of Heortling culture was important, so I felt free in setting up fences on suggestion and keeping the game firmly in the setting I wanted. Other suggestions that fit on the creative plot of land could most likely be added without reservation.
Example Two: We had had a bunch of scenes -- Kickers had gone off (to great effect) and we had played out secondary scenes where the PCs were beginning to confront each other or NPCs based off the Kickers.
Chris had Alendras declare that there would be a big announcement at the long house that night (to announce his upcoming marriage to Daleeta). David had Iskalli confront Daleeta after he found a small statue of the Red Goddess in her bag. He says he won't tell her secret, but asks her to promise that she won't drag his father into her mess. She blows him off. And Scott has Torkan confront Alendras, telling his father how upset he is that his father has taken up with another woman and she's already pregnant. Alendras tell shim to back off -- he's his father and Torkan should know his place.
Okay, so we're pretty much ready for the long house meeting that night. So I start framing the scene and Scott asks for a scene between Torkan and Iskalli. I'm like, "Okay. Cool."
So we frame up the scene and they start talking. And in seconds I realize there's no real conflict that's going to come out of this. Now, normally this wouldn't be a problem. Though I tend to drive scenes toward a conflict, I'm also willing to be really patient on this front. But I also know we're playing in a convention slot and I've now only got another hour and a half to wrap all this up. The way my brain was working was like, "Okay, we're losing light. We don't have the money for overtime. What pages can we cut and still keep the story on track?"
And this scene, which seemed to be about exposition and a desire for screentime (the way I viewed it, because of the metaphors and experiences I carry round in my head) seemed an easy cut. So I asked, bluntly but politely, "Scott. Are we heading for a conflict? Is there something you're going for that will lead to a roll? Because if there is, I'm all for it." Because if he said yes, I definitely would have let it keep going. But he said, no. So I said, "Okay, so can we wrap it up that the two brothers compare notes, as you've said, where you discuss the meeting in the long house tonight and assume that your father will be announcing his marriage to Daleeta?" And he said, someone softly, "Well, I like to roleplay."
So, wham, we have a couple of creative differences here. And yes, because of time I was able to say, "I get that. I respect it. But we're a little crunched for time, so I'm going to move us up the meeting that night." But I want to fully cop to the fact that having a couple of characters just standing around talking to each other just doesn't interest me. For better or worse, I was pushing my agenda on the table. I don't feel bad about this, however, because I've learned (again, from Primetime Adventures) that when I establish the habit of playing toward conflicts the conflicts arrive pretty regularly and the Players have a great time.
But the truth is, I said, "My agenda is the one we're going with," and steered play in that direction.
I arrived with my agenda clear in my head, and my agenda is Story. I think it's important to lay this out -- not because I think it will particularly startle anyone, but because what I'm about lay out probably informed all the decisions and actions I made. I fully accepted what I wanted, and took actions to facilitate getting it.
A lot of this will be clear from the posts above, but I want to break out the over-arching agenda.
I love story. I am a story geek. I love the twists and turns and revelations and reversals and drama and conflict of story. I respond to story done well with the same visceral and physical pleasure that I get from seeing a great painting. It's not an intellectual response. It causes pleasure for me in my nerves.
So when the Players hammered out those intertwined characters with those terrific Kickers, I was happy. A hum of pleasure jingled along arms.
I also love great color and description. Verbal details and color are part of my pleasure. No. Let me be specific. They are the pleasure -- along with the revelations, reveals, and conflict of dramatic narrative. So keep in mine that as I describe the session as a success, it's because these qualities were at the forefront of the game, and I worked to elicit them.
And the real fun -- the real, real fun -- is when players gather and encourage this from each other, tossing the ball back and forth as we create details and narrative content on the fly. It's a performance challenge, and one I love.
Christopher Kubasik:
SOME GLORANTHA STUFF
Jamie, you wrote, "...so far its a text book example of how HQ can be used, and indeed how Glorantha doesn't have to be weighed down by the huge imposing library of material."
I wanted to share an essay I wrote that Stafford wants to put up on the glorantha.com site, which pretty much lays out how I approached Glorantha for this game:
Glorantha Will be Overwhelming...
If You Try to Do it All at Once
By Christopher Kubasik
There is a tradition in RPG culture of the GM making, and knowing down to every blade of grass, the world the Players play in.
I think the tradition comes from the love of Tolkien's work on Middle-Earth, the rich fabric represented in Herbert's Dune, and the way SF/Fantasy fans picked up on this "world-building" energy.
However, there's no reason to bring this thinking into an RPG session, and a lot of reasons to avoid it.
Don't try to master everything about Glorantha. Start with a general sketch of the world -- and anyone's first read through of Glorantha material will only provide a sketch of the world! -- and then focus on one spot... The spot that will matter to the PCs (and thus the Players), is probably the way to begin.
The HQ rules and materials often focus on Dragon Pass. Dig around in there, and you'll find enough to start a village, have some conflicts going. Wars, famines (that can be cured with a HeroQuest -- just like the quest for the Grail to heal Arthur's land) and so on, all can be run out of a small patch of land. As the adventures continue, the GM can keep expanding his knowledge (and the Player's knowledge) of the world.
I know it removes the whole, "I am the GM -- Come Explore MY World!" fun. But it introduces a different kind of fun -- where the Players remain always an integral and intimate center of the world, the story, and the adventure.
It also removes the need to know all the interlocking parts of Glorantha at one time and have them down pat. Because, remember, in a moment to moment narrative we don't know (and can't care) about everything. We can really only focus on what's in front of us (as audience members, players or characters) -- and that's really it.
Glorantha, constructed as a world of myth, is upfront about that parallel but different nature of all the stories that would be told by different groups. It isn't a self-consistent reality in a bottle --- like a game of World Sim City that everyone is playing at once -- but rather, like the worlds of mythology of actual civilizations, a sandbox with lots of details that specific cultures, tribes, epochs or whatever picked up and played with to their own needs and ends to create their own stories.
But if the point of Glorantha isn't to play out stories as if we'd all memorized a fictional encyclopedia and had to live by the facts it contained, what then do we do with the setting.
Well, especially with the rules of HeroQuest, the focus of the game is on the individual characters and their relationships with other people and institutions. But remember that basing stories on specific characters and relationships doesn't necessarily mean small scale.
A whole adventure can be run off a PC wanting a girl. He and his buds make a plan and steal her from a family in a rival clan.
It seems too simple but the Iliad, the Greek Tragedies, Shakespeare's histories and tragedies are rife with the same web of relationships. It is these relationships that matter and the tensions they place one each other that produce the next set of conflicts.
Religious demands conflict with each other when real choices need to be made. Religious demands conflict with family. With the clan. Clan conflicts with the family. Or the values or desires the character himself considers most important. Again, see Homer, Sophocles, Euripides, Shakespeare, Thomas Mallory, Tolkien (Aragorn and Sam both face lots of tough choices along these lines), Herbert's Dune and others. The fact is, one can choose to focus on the world building in such fiction -- or one can focus on the stories of the characters. The rich world of Glorantha is a trap of sorts. It can make players think it's about the world. No. The rich background is there for the GM and Players to grab as needed.
What's really going on is the need of the characters. Not because they've been given a mission. But because their faith, their home, their family, their leader, their own ambitions demand something. And these demands will run into other demands -- of their own people, of other governments, of other gods -- that will bring everything into rousing conflict.
So. Start small. You don't need to know everything. As the Players have their PCs make choices they'll be defining the world in ways much more important than a set of 20 sourcebooks on a shelf ever good.
Think of it like the tales of the Greek gods and heroes. If you've taken the time to dig around in them for a while, you'll discover there are 14 versions of any heroe's tale. Sometimes he's married to the woman in the story, sometimes she's his mistress. Different authors in different times took the basic material and shaped it to their needs. The same with the stories of the Arthurian Knights. The same with Shakespeare getting his "facts" wrong.
The "facts" didn't matter. Because these writers were making stories. When Macbeth or Lear actually lived didn't matter as much as the emotional drive and energy behind the story. Shakespeare got "details" wrong. But the story worked great. While the facts and logic of your group's play has to be self-consistent, there's not yardstick out there measuring your tale. Think of you and your group as a collective Ovid, or Mallory, or Euripides, or Homer -- taking the base material of the story element you have (the setting), and coming up with your specific take on it. That's all that matters.
Give your Players a full head of steam on where the story is going, give them compelling choices for their PCs to make, and let them struggle to find their way through a tale where the outcome is unknown and the final decisions will make their fellow players open wide with surprise -- and no one will care or notice that you don't know the name of the God of the cult 1,000 miles away.
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