I love drama in RPGs. My two favourite LARPs are the really immersive ones where my characters are feeling everything so I have to feel it along with them. I remember last October when such events were still possible, and my character got the dual whammy of being responsible for the intense pain another character was in, while simultaneously having the revelation that she was also responsible for the terrible thing that had happened to him in the past. This brought on a sudden flood of tears, and later on some counselling from another character to reassure her that she wasn't the same person who did those terrible things and could choose a better way now. It's my strongest memory in an already memorable game (which is ironically one where all the player characters are amnesiacs.)
However, while I can cry on cue at a sufficiently dramatic LARP, I find it a lot harder to bring the drama in tabletop RPGs. I think self-consciousness is a big part of it. When I'm at a LARP, wearing my costume and carrying my foam and latex weapons, it's like I'm over a hurdle. The person everyone is looking at is my character, not me. But in tabletop, that's my face everyone is looking at, and I feel very strange getting all emotional.
For some reason, it's easier when I'm GMing. My current convention scenario involves several NPCs in high stress situations, and depending on how the PCs push them there's the potential for some major dramatic outbursts. Why I feel more comfortable roleplaying these NPCs than my own characters, I'm not sure. Maybe it's because they're specifically there for the players' entertainment?
A lot of this RPGaDay stuff has been giving me food for thought on the subject of GMing. This time it's given me something to think about regarding upping my game as a player. If I can do it at LARP and I can do it as a GM, there's no reason I shouldn't get better at it as a player.
Sunday, 16 August 2020
Saturday, 15 August 2020
Last of the Sith, episode 6: Race Day
After the incident with Khaljos Kind's ship, Gin had been keeping a closer watch on what the Dudes were up to. A good thing too, or she could have ended up in some very nasty trouble after they picked up a job from a spice merchant. Fortunately they'd picked up some samples, so she could find out exactly what it was before committing to selling any of it.
What it was was pretty much what the Dudes had been told it was - except that it was extremely toxic to arcona. Not a bad deal though. She'd just have to be very cautious about who it got sold to.
Things were returning to something resembling normality on Listehol. Her preferred booth in the cantina was now being referred to as the 'Both Booth', and while she wasn't a big player, enough business was coming her way that she wasn't having to seek it out.
Then shortly before the big pod race day, Dax showed up in the Both Booth, looking for work. He needed money - doubtless something to do with his sister or his spaceship. She found just the thing for a competent engineer and slicer - a sabotage job on the Czerka Corp racing pod. Getting to the pod though - that would be the challenge. Gin called up Track-u-bot and Mnessas to help out, and got to watch as Dax suggested that perhaps Track-u-bot could help by preventing them being tracked - a sort of reverse tracking. Track-u-bot spontaneously rebooted.
The four of them together made it into the pod hanger without being spotted by either life forms or cameras. Dax got to work on the pod, while Gin took the opportunity to have a nose around. She was glad she did - someone who clearly hadn't been expecting anyone to be poking around in here had left notes about Czerka Corp's own sabotage plans. Of the two other favourites to win the race, one pod racer would be subject to a hit that night, while the other would be targeted by a sniper during the race.
It rapidly occurred to them that a) if they prevented a hit it could potentially result in some kind of reward and b) this would also give them a strong tip on who was likely to win the pod race.
They gathered at the bar where that night's target was hanging out. Not hard to spot the likely assailants - several of Borka the Hutt's enforcers. One was causing trouble over by the bar, which was no doubt a distraction. Gin ignored it and went searching for the pod racer. Acting like an excited fan keen to meet a popular racer was in no way a challenge. It might not be the real reason she was here, but at the same time it wasn't a lie. Once close enough, she whispered a warning to him, pointing out the assailants.
Over by the bar, Dax had got involved in a fist fight. Of course - the woman behind the bar who'd been the subject of the disturbance was his sister. But Gin had done her job in time, and both she and the racer had blasters ready when their booth was suddenly crowded with Hutt enforcers.
One bar fight later, in which Mnessas (now dressed in the (drastically hemmed) robes of a sith) performed some throws that seemed to defy the laws of physics, she had the gratitude of the pod racer, plus two VIP tickets to watch the race.
Race day dawned, and it was time to place bets. Betting on the racer they'd saved the previous night seemed like a safe bet, even if the payout wasn't too great. But Gin had one more piece of information about the race. Master Reshi would be competing. And Master Reshi was a champion pod racer.
Her bets placed, Gin made her way to the VIP area, accompanied by Mnessas. As expected, she saw one pod taken out by what had to be a sniper shot. The Czerka Corp pod failed in a truly spectacular fashion, with each engine pod going flying in different directions as the pod tore itself apart. Dax had more than fulfilled his contract.
And then the sniper took a second shot, this time at the one pod that remained from the three favourites. The Czerka Corp sniper - or was it Track-u-bot up there on the dusty knoll? Not that it mattered. She had bets on both her new acquaintence and Master Reshi, but the latter winning would be significantly more financially advantageous.
Reshi won!
The big race might be over, but there were still other races to enjoy, particuarly the all-comers ronto and other large riding animal race, which Mnessas and Track-u-bot were already planning to enter. Gin wasn't planning to do anything other than watch - but then she got a visitor wanting to sell a narglatch. Perhaps it was just the excitement of the day's events, but somehow she found herself handing over her entire winnings plus a bit more for this ridiculously dangerous animal.
It was an exciting race. Mnessas and Track-u-bot on their racing rontos, Dax on a bantha (she wasn't sure where that had come from) and her on her new narglatch.
Track-u-bot won, despite Mnessas attempting to influence things via a large box of fireworks strapped to the back of his ronto. The narglatch, Gin was glad to see, completely ignored the fireworks, but they did allow Mnessas to pip Dax to second place. Gin happily brought up the rear. Just getting through the race without falling off was quite enough.
What it was was pretty much what the Dudes had been told it was - except that it was extremely toxic to arcona. Not a bad deal though. She'd just have to be very cautious about who it got sold to.
Things were returning to something resembling normality on Listehol. Her preferred booth in the cantina was now being referred to as the 'Both Booth', and while she wasn't a big player, enough business was coming her way that she wasn't having to seek it out.
Then shortly before the big pod race day, Dax showed up in the Both Booth, looking for work. He needed money - doubtless something to do with his sister or his spaceship. She found just the thing for a competent engineer and slicer - a sabotage job on the Czerka Corp racing pod. Getting to the pod though - that would be the challenge. Gin called up Track-u-bot and Mnessas to help out, and got to watch as Dax suggested that perhaps Track-u-bot could help by preventing them being tracked - a sort of reverse tracking. Track-u-bot spontaneously rebooted.
The four of them together made it into the pod hanger without being spotted by either life forms or cameras. Dax got to work on the pod, while Gin took the opportunity to have a nose around. She was glad she did - someone who clearly hadn't been expecting anyone to be poking around in here had left notes about Czerka Corp's own sabotage plans. Of the two other favourites to win the race, one pod racer would be subject to a hit that night, while the other would be targeted by a sniper during the race.
It rapidly occurred to them that a) if they prevented a hit it could potentially result in some kind of reward and b) this would also give them a strong tip on who was likely to win the pod race.
They gathered at the bar where that night's target was hanging out. Not hard to spot the likely assailants - several of Borka the Hutt's enforcers. One was causing trouble over by the bar, which was no doubt a distraction. Gin ignored it and went searching for the pod racer. Acting like an excited fan keen to meet a popular racer was in no way a challenge. It might not be the real reason she was here, but at the same time it wasn't a lie. Once close enough, she whispered a warning to him, pointing out the assailants.
Over by the bar, Dax had got involved in a fist fight. Of course - the woman behind the bar who'd been the subject of the disturbance was his sister. But Gin had done her job in time, and both she and the racer had blasters ready when their booth was suddenly crowded with Hutt enforcers.
One bar fight later, in which Mnessas (now dressed in the (drastically hemmed) robes of a sith) performed some throws that seemed to defy the laws of physics, she had the gratitude of the pod racer, plus two VIP tickets to watch the race.
Race day dawned, and it was time to place bets. Betting on the racer they'd saved the previous night seemed like a safe bet, even if the payout wasn't too great. But Gin had one more piece of information about the race. Master Reshi would be competing. And Master Reshi was a champion pod racer.
Her bets placed, Gin made her way to the VIP area, accompanied by Mnessas. As expected, she saw one pod taken out by what had to be a sniper shot. The Czerka Corp pod failed in a truly spectacular fashion, with each engine pod going flying in different directions as the pod tore itself apart. Dax had more than fulfilled his contract.
And then the sniper took a second shot, this time at the one pod that remained from the three favourites. The Czerka Corp sniper - or was it Track-u-bot up there on the dusty knoll? Not that it mattered. She had bets on both her new acquaintence and Master Reshi, but the latter winning would be significantly more financially advantageous.
Reshi won!
The big race might be over, but there were still other races to enjoy, particuarly the all-comers ronto and other large riding animal race, which Mnessas and Track-u-bot were already planning to enter. Gin wasn't planning to do anything other than watch - but then she got a visitor wanting to sell a narglatch. Perhaps it was just the excitement of the day's events, but somehow she found herself handing over her entire winnings plus a bit more for this ridiculously dangerous animal.
It was an exciting race. Mnessas and Track-u-bot on their racing rontos, Dax on a bantha (she wasn't sure where that had come from) and her on her new narglatch.
Track-u-bot won, despite Mnessas attempting to influence things via a large box of fireworks strapped to the back of his ronto. The narglatch, Gin was glad to see, completely ignored the fireworks, but they did allow Mnessas to pip Dax to second place. Gin happily brought up the rear. Just getting through the race without falling off was quite enough.
RPGaDay: Frame
Something that I've learned from RPGaDay is how much our frame of reference shapes the way we look at things.
Forests, for example. I wrote about forests from my own frame of reference. I live in Britain, so to me, forests are largely tourist destinations, shaped by their industrial history. It's hard to get truly lost in a British forest - worse case scenario you pick a direction and stick to it and you'll be out in a few hours, tops. Probably less as you're likely to run into a village, or at the very least a road, long before that. Britain's biggest forest is Galloway Forest in Scotland, at just under 300 square miles, and it's riddled with trails and peppered with tiny villages, and even at it's most remote you're never more than a day's walk from a major road. And Galloway Forest is three times the size of England's biggest forest, the New Forest.
The presence of humans is stamped all over British forests, and that affects how I see them. American forests, on the other hand...
Google tells me the largest forest in the USA is Tongass National Forest in Alaska. It's about 90 times the size of Galloway Forest, and about 0.5 times the size of England. Looking at it on Google Maps, it looks like logging and tourism has barely nibbled at its edges. It's wild in a way I can't even begin to imagine. You could walk for days in that forest, and even then you'd be more likely to find the sea than a road. And, of course, unlike a British forest there are probably bears in it. And wolves. And moose.
Frames of reference are something I'm having to be more aware of when playing RPGs online, since I'm now frequently playing with people from other countries. The scenario I'm currently running is based around Bournville in Birmingham, and while most Brits will have some idea what kind of a place Birmingham is, and instantly associate Bournville with the Cadbury chocolate factory, that's not always immediately obvious to people who didn't grow up here.
Even without the geographic differences, different frames of reference are likely to show up. Age is a big one, as I realised last night when half the PCs were singing a song from 1979 that I'd never heard because it's older than I am. (I know some 70s music, of course, but the song wasn't the kind of music my parents were into, so didn't feature in their vinyl collection.) Gender is another. A recently kickstarted game, Troubleshooters, takes a lot of inspiration from Tintin. I barely know anything about Tintin, because those comics are part of a genre of adventure stories that were written both about and for boys. I've never read them, for the same reason that most of the people I game with have never read Barbie comics.
And then there's things like the Same Page Tool, the purpose of which seems to be making sure everyone is looking at the game from the same frame of reference. That does require at least one person to be aware of the game's frame of reference, which was not a thing when we played The Sprawl. Attempting to play a PBTA game through the frame of Cyberpunk 2020's extreme simulationism was...well, I had a great time, but ultimately the game only lasted three sessions because trying to play it that way just didn't work.
On a more meta note, it's been fascinating to see how different people have approached the prompt words for RPGsDay through their own frame of reference.
Forests, for example. I wrote about forests from my own frame of reference. I live in Britain, so to me, forests are largely tourist destinations, shaped by their industrial history. It's hard to get truly lost in a British forest - worse case scenario you pick a direction and stick to it and you'll be out in a few hours, tops. Probably less as you're likely to run into a village, or at the very least a road, long before that. Britain's biggest forest is Galloway Forest in Scotland, at just under 300 square miles, and it's riddled with trails and peppered with tiny villages, and even at it's most remote you're never more than a day's walk from a major road. And Galloway Forest is three times the size of England's biggest forest, the New Forest.
The presence of humans is stamped all over British forests, and that affects how I see them. American forests, on the other hand...
Google tells me the largest forest in the USA is Tongass National Forest in Alaska. It's about 90 times the size of Galloway Forest, and about 0.5 times the size of England. Looking at it on Google Maps, it looks like logging and tourism has barely nibbled at its edges. It's wild in a way I can't even begin to imagine. You could walk for days in that forest, and even then you'd be more likely to find the sea than a road. And, of course, unlike a British forest there are probably bears in it. And wolves. And moose.
Frames of reference are something I'm having to be more aware of when playing RPGs online, since I'm now frequently playing with people from other countries. The scenario I'm currently running is based around Bournville in Birmingham, and while most Brits will have some idea what kind of a place Birmingham is, and instantly associate Bournville with the Cadbury chocolate factory, that's not always immediately obvious to people who didn't grow up here.
Even without the geographic differences, different frames of reference are likely to show up. Age is a big one, as I realised last night when half the PCs were singing a song from 1979 that I'd never heard because it's older than I am. (I know some 70s music, of course, but the song wasn't the kind of music my parents were into, so didn't feature in their vinyl collection.) Gender is another. A recently kickstarted game, Troubleshooters, takes a lot of inspiration from Tintin. I barely know anything about Tintin, because those comics are part of a genre of adventure stories that were written both about and for boys. I've never read them, for the same reason that most of the people I game with have never read Barbie comics.
And then there's things like the Same Page Tool, the purpose of which seems to be making sure everyone is looking at the game from the same frame of reference. That does require at least one person to be aware of the game's frame of reference, which was not a thing when we played The Sprawl. Attempting to play a PBTA game through the frame of Cyberpunk 2020's extreme simulationism was...well, I had a great time, but ultimately the game only lasted three sessions because trying to play it that way just didn't work.
On a more meta note, it's been fascinating to see how different people have approached the prompt words for RPGsDay through their own frame of reference.
Friday, 14 August 2020
RPGaDay: Banner
This will be my 163rd blog post under the Savage Spiel banner.
When I started this blog, just under a year ago, it was because I was posting a bunch of RPG related stuff on Facebook and thought a blog would be a better venue for it. Much as I loathe the phrase 'personal brand' (I work for the kind of company that runs training courses for staff members on how to develop your personal brand) it felt like the thing to do.
Picking a name was tough. I knew I'd also be creating a Twitter account to go with it, so I wanted a name I could also use there. Pretty much every variant on the theme of 'savage gamer' was already taken. I reached out to Facebook for help and got a bunch of suggestions, none of which I used, although one I particularly liked was 'savage words'. If it wasn't for the fact that I don't even particularly like Savage Worlds, let alone talk about it, I would have gone with that. And that was what gave me the idea of Savage Spiel.
I like that it's alliterative, and I like that it has a dual meaning. In English, a spiel is a long outpouring of words, which seemed entirely appropriate for a blog. And in German, it means game or play (hence the SPIEL board gaming event in Essen, Germany.)
It has had a strange side effect, however, in that since lockdown, I've been mistaken for a German roughly once a month. (It seems to have stopped now, but August's not over yet.) As it happens I do speak German. Not fluently, but enough to get by if I go on holiday there again. And I do talk about LARP, which is way bigger in Germany than it is in the UK, so I guess it's plausible if you've never heard my voice...
Anyway. I've hung up my virtual banner. What do I want people to associate with it?
1. Interesting things to say.
2. Entertaining game write-ups.
3. Quality convention games.
4. Fun RPG supplements/adventures.
I think I'm doing reasonably well on the first three. The last one...well, I need to get on and finish some stuff.
The one other thing I'm considering is a new graphic. My current icon is a chibified version of one of my LARP characters, so does technically depict me, just not in any outfit someone outside of that game would recognise. I'm thinking of commissioning a new one with me actually looking like me.
And that concludes my thoroughly self-indulgent and barely RPG related thoughts on the word 'banner'.
When I started this blog, just under a year ago, it was because I was posting a bunch of RPG related stuff on Facebook and thought a blog would be a better venue for it. Much as I loathe the phrase 'personal brand' (I work for the kind of company that runs training courses for staff members on how to develop your personal brand) it felt like the thing to do.
Picking a name was tough. I knew I'd also be creating a Twitter account to go with it, so I wanted a name I could also use there. Pretty much every variant on the theme of 'savage gamer' was already taken. I reached out to Facebook for help and got a bunch of suggestions, none of which I used, although one I particularly liked was 'savage words'. If it wasn't for the fact that I don't even particularly like Savage Worlds, let alone talk about it, I would have gone with that. And that was what gave me the idea of Savage Spiel.
I like that it's alliterative, and I like that it has a dual meaning. In English, a spiel is a long outpouring of words, which seemed entirely appropriate for a blog. And in German, it means game or play (hence the SPIEL board gaming event in Essen, Germany.)
It has had a strange side effect, however, in that since lockdown, I've been mistaken for a German roughly once a month. (It seems to have stopped now, but August's not over yet.) As it happens I do speak German. Not fluently, but enough to get by if I go on holiday there again. And I do talk about LARP, which is way bigger in Germany than it is in the UK, so I guess it's plausible if you've never heard my voice...
Anyway. I've hung up my virtual banner. What do I want people to associate with it?
1. Interesting things to say.
2. Entertaining game write-ups.
3. Quality convention games.
4. Fun RPG supplements/adventures.
I think I'm doing reasonably well on the first three. The last one...well, I need to get on and finish some stuff.
The one other thing I'm considering is a new graphic. My current icon is a chibified version of one of my LARP characters, so does technically depict me, just not in any outfit someone outside of that game would recognise. I'm thinking of commissioning a new one with me actually looking like me.
And that concludes my thoroughly self-indulgent and barely RPG related thoughts on the word 'banner'.
Thursday, 13 August 2020
RPGaDay: Rest
I was wondering what to write about for this one, as all I could think of was the concept of long and short rests from D&D 5e, and as someone who rarely plays D&D 5e I don't really have any opinions on that..
And then Simon Burley nailed it.
Taking breaks is something I'm trying to improve on as a GM, although it's going slowly. It's not a thing we do in the home group. People just wander off to the loo and the coffee machine as required with no actual breaks other than a short pause when the takeaway order arrives and we spend some time passing boxes around the table.
It's only recently, now that I've started regularly running convention games, as well as a campaign at MK-RPG, that I've had to start remembering about breaks. In a three-hour session, you need at least one break around halfway through. In a longer session you might need two. This applies just as much to online games as it does to in-person games. Maybe more so, especially if you don't have cameras on and can't see if people are still there.
The problem is that once I'm immersed in running the game I tend to forget about pretty much everything else. Generally I'm reminded by one of the players requesting a pause, at which point I call for a five minute break, but I really need to start doing it without being reminded.
Alien is the game where I have the least trouble with this. The three act structure serves to remind me to take a break when we come to the end of each act and I have to change everyone's secret agendas. It's a fixed point in-game, so I'm not going to forget about it. Which suggests that I should do the same thing for all my convention scenarios. I know what the main plot beats are and roughly when things are going to happen, so if I add into my notes, 'when the players reach location X, we take a break' I'm significantly more likely to remember than if I'm merely depending on noticing the time.
This is a bit trickier for campaign play, when it's a lot harder for me to predict how long things are going to take, but I'm doing enough conventions that I'm getting practice, and with practice I should get better at remembering to check the time.
And then Simon Burley nailed it.
#RPGADAY2020 - 13 - REST - “Shall we take a short comfort break there?” Important words at a con. More important is to finish your Saturday night games by midnight if you’re committed to playing a game Sunday morning. Playing on into the wee small hours doesn’t make you clever. pic.twitter.com/4vh24C27UN— Simon Burley (@squadronuk) August 13, 2020
Taking breaks is something I'm trying to improve on as a GM, although it's going slowly. It's not a thing we do in the home group. People just wander off to the loo and the coffee machine as required with no actual breaks other than a short pause when the takeaway order arrives and we spend some time passing boxes around the table.
It's only recently, now that I've started regularly running convention games, as well as a campaign at MK-RPG, that I've had to start remembering about breaks. In a three-hour session, you need at least one break around halfway through. In a longer session you might need two. This applies just as much to online games as it does to in-person games. Maybe more so, especially if you don't have cameras on and can't see if people are still there.
The problem is that once I'm immersed in running the game I tend to forget about pretty much everything else. Generally I'm reminded by one of the players requesting a pause, at which point I call for a five minute break, but I really need to start doing it without being reminded.
Alien is the game where I have the least trouble with this. The three act structure serves to remind me to take a break when we come to the end of each act and I have to change everyone's secret agendas. It's a fixed point in-game, so I'm not going to forget about it. Which suggests that I should do the same thing for all my convention scenarios. I know what the main plot beats are and roughly when things are going to happen, so if I add into my notes, 'when the players reach location X, we take a break' I'm significantly more likely to remember than if I'm merely depending on noticing the time.
This is a bit trickier for campaign play, when it's a lot harder for me to predict how long things are going to take, but I'm doing enough conventions that I'm getting practice, and with practice I should get better at remembering to check the time.
Wednesday, 12 August 2020
RPGaDay: Message
I don't often do the passing secret messages thing in my games, partly because it's a hassle. My GMing bag has index cards in, which I occasionally use, but writing legible messages means I have to pause the game briefly, which I don't like. Taking someone away from the table for a quick chat is just as inconvenient.
Gaming online has changed all that. Playing a game on Discord means sending a private message to another player is easy, and I type a lot faster than I write. Better still, it's not as obvious to the rest of the players that I'm sending them, as they can't see me physically writing on a card or taking someone aside, plus the game can keep going at the same time.
When I use secret messages, it's generally to create an atmosphere of unease. There's a bit in one of my scenarios where a PC is exposed to a drug. Other party members normally know it's happened, but I will often put the more specific effects in a secret message, giving that player a chance to roleplay some weird stuff while the rest of the players are trying to work out what's real.
They're also pretty important in a game like Alien (cinematic mode) where all the players have secrets and agendas that may conflict with other players. While in theory we should all be able to ignore OOC knowledge, in practice I think I would have found it a lot harder to play if I hadn't been able to secretly let the GM know that what I'm claiming to be doing is not at all what I'm actually doing.
I've played two Alien scenarios (Hope's Last Day and Chariot of the Gods) and have managed to kill the same guy's characters three times. Sorry Andy.
While in general I like everything out on the table so nobody misses out on anything, I think secret messages have their place in horror and horror-adjacent scenarios. So I guess those index cards are staying in the bag. But I'm thinking that for certain scenarios where I already know what secret messages I'm likely to need, I could speed things up a lot by printing them out in advance.
Gaming online has changed all that. Playing a game on Discord means sending a private message to another player is easy, and I type a lot faster than I write. Better still, it's not as obvious to the rest of the players that I'm sending them, as they can't see me physically writing on a card or taking someone aside, plus the game can keep going at the same time.
When I use secret messages, it's generally to create an atmosphere of unease. There's a bit in one of my scenarios where a PC is exposed to a drug. Other party members normally know it's happened, but I will often put the more specific effects in a secret message, giving that player a chance to roleplay some weird stuff while the rest of the players are trying to work out what's real.
They're also pretty important in a game like Alien (cinematic mode) where all the players have secrets and agendas that may conflict with other players. While in theory we should all be able to ignore OOC knowledge, in practice I think I would have found it a lot harder to play if I hadn't been able to secretly let the GM know that what I'm claiming to be doing is not at all what I'm actually doing.
I've played two Alien scenarios (Hope's Last Day and Chariot of the Gods) and have managed to kill the same guy's characters three times. Sorry Andy.
While in general I like everything out on the table so nobody misses out on anything, I think secret messages have their place in horror and horror-adjacent scenarios. So I guess those index cards are staying in the bag. But I'm thinking that for certain scenarios where I already know what secret messages I'm likely to need, I could speed things up a lot by printing them out in advance.
Tuesday, 11 August 2020
RPGaDay: Stack
I've heard about Dread, the horror RPG that uses a Jenga tower instead of dice, but never actually played it. The one time I've played with Jenga on the table was a game of Call of Cthulhu where the tower was part of luck mechanic - if you used luck, you had to pull a block from the tower.
It's possible that I might encounter it at a convention some day, but there is a reason I'm unlikely to ever play Dread with one of my regular groups, or use the tower mechanic in any other game for that matter, and it's that I rarely sit down at a table without at least one leg shaker.
It's bad enough in our regular Pathfinder or Star Wars games, with a bunch of drinks and minis on the table, when suddenly one of the players starts to jiggle and the whole table shakes like someone's just cast earthquake. If we're lucky there's no spillages, and if we're really lucky we can remember where all the minis are supposed to be.
And then there's people getting up to use the loo or get coffee or go out for a smoke or all the other things that involve leaving the room - which then require them to squeeze their way past someone because the gaming room is small and the players are not.
There's a bit more room to move when we play at MK-RPG, but I still have my husband with me, who is by far the worst of the leg jigglers from the home group, able to set an entire table bouncing up and down without knowing he's doing it. No Jenga tower stands a chance if he's in the party.
It's a really innovative mechanic, but not one that's remotely practical for the groups I play in. I feel the build up of tension would be rather lost when the entire party die of random leg jiggles.
So I guess I'll have to wait for a convention one-shot. And given the current coronavirus situation, I've no idea when that might be.
It's possible that I might encounter it at a convention some day, but there is a reason I'm unlikely to ever play Dread with one of my regular groups, or use the tower mechanic in any other game for that matter, and it's that I rarely sit down at a table without at least one leg shaker.
It's bad enough in our regular Pathfinder or Star Wars games, with a bunch of drinks and minis on the table, when suddenly one of the players starts to jiggle and the whole table shakes like someone's just cast earthquake. If we're lucky there's no spillages, and if we're really lucky we can remember where all the minis are supposed to be.
And then there's people getting up to use the loo or get coffee or go out for a smoke or all the other things that involve leaving the room - which then require them to squeeze their way past someone because the gaming room is small and the players are not.
There's a bit more room to move when we play at MK-RPG, but I still have my husband with me, who is by far the worst of the leg jigglers from the home group, able to set an entire table bouncing up and down without knowing he's doing it. No Jenga tower stands a chance if he's in the party.
It's a really innovative mechanic, but not one that's remotely practical for the groups I play in. I feel the build up of tension would be rather lost when the entire party die of random leg jiggles.
So I guess I'll have to wait for a convention one-shot. And given the current coronavirus situation, I've no idea when that might be.
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