Player Catalysts

Sometimes, as a PC, all it takes is a particular encounter, NPC, interaction, or even single moment to redefine and/or expand character development. As a PC, these "catalysts" can serve to greatly enrich the game world and unique character perspectives. With this in mind, I have two questions:

Choose a PC or two from among your characters-- preferably a favorite one. No need to name names nor specifics.

1) What has been a defining interaction that fundamentally changed how you play(ed) that character? Why was it so meaningful?

2) What would be a moment that would serve as the needed catalyst for a PC's narrative development?

Once Upon A Text Prop

by Zoe

Hello everyone! Due to a double load of teaching and classes, plus a full larp schedule, I have been sadly bereft of freetime. As I happily move into my winter break, however, I find myself once more with time for larp blogging. As I was prepping for a larp this morning, a questions came to mind...

Anyone who knows me, as a staffer or players, knows that I love text props. Too much. My strength, in larps, tends to rest in writing, and text props are one of my preferred modes of communication. I enjoy them because they allow me to express things, about a character, in a way that can't happen face-to-face; they also allow me to preemptively "characterize" NPCs before they hit game. Honestly, I could go on and on about how much I love text props. For instance, take the following examples as reasons why I love textprops:

Communicating the Surreal

In larp, it can be hard to communicate the surreal: while costuming and acting, as well as set-dressing and narrative, can go a long way, larps don't have the expressive freedom of text. In my opinion, text props allow for staffers to communicate dreamy, unreal landscapes to their PCs in a way that conditions the PCs towards understanding a specific plotline as surreal. One of my favorite examples of this was Albert's work in Endgame: he and I worked on a range of textprops connected to the mourner plotline. They created the expectation of a very alien landscape-- when players were finally introduced to the characters and settings from this landscape, they already had the expectation of the surreal.

Yes, really. This NPC is mean.

I don't have a hard time producing bitchy NPCs... at all, really. However, when I have them deliver letters to PCs, prior to their onstage entrance, that writhe with acidity, frigidity, and/or flat-out nastiness, it sets a good precedent for when I roll in, and meet them face-to-face: when I've already insulted their morale foundations and/or competence, I find PCs more than willing to enter into thorny relationships.

Unwritten/Unspoken Tensions

As both an NPC and a PC, I play a lot of introverted, frustrated characters. (This should be telling.) One of my favorite interactions in larp is the tension of "things left unsaid": that moment when you both know what you want to say, but, due to character reasons, refuse to say it. Letters, especially, allow me to further those moments. In general, I think there's a human expectation that letters are more revealing than spoken word-- I enjoy the art of making my textual communication with other players equally, if not more, frustratingly vague, but simultaneously painfully honest. I appreciate the knowledge that, post a text-prop from me, other players have more questions than answers-- to me, that's the real strength of a well-used text prop.

Hey, PC. I love you.

One of the biggest problems of larp is the issue of "so many things to do, so little time." Especially as a staffer, I often find myself out as a role that can only interact with individual PCs for so long. Text props-- letters, diaries etc.-- allow me to give PCs a little bit more interaction with an NPC. While this doesn't replace face-to-face, IG time, it provides PCs with some personal attention, and often allows them to use letters/journals to engage other PCs in their plot (in a material way).

Soo... with my unabashed love for text props revealed, I have a question...

What is your favorite text prop (or text props, should you be so lucky) that you have received? Why was it your favorite, and what sort of interactions/player developments did it encourage? Grazi!

Cliffhangers

Having just finished the first season of Clockwork Skies, I find myself musing on one of the most satisfyingly frustrating parts of LARP: the Cliffhanger. We've all experienced them-- you, the player, know that there are about fifteen minutes left within a game, and then 3 or more months until the next event. And, just as you're settling into a restful, end of session complacency, an NPC of Some Import struts, limps, swaggers, or sprints into town. Said NPC gives you just enough information-- or just enough of an emotional wallop-- to make you want answers and closure immediately. Just as you open your mouth, struggling to make a connection or offer a modicum of coherence, the game ends. You're left hungry for more, and wishing you could enter stasis mode (so that you wouldn't have to experience the 3 month wait before next session).

The cliffhanger is an art: it gets people to think wistfully on the upcoming session, and it engages people, over a break, in a narrative. With that being said, what have been some of your favorite "cliffhangers," either ending an event itself, or simply a plot arc? Why were they so good? Have they been resolved, or are you still waiting for resolution?

What makes a good RP encounter?

This is a fairly simple question, but one that's important for most players: what makes a good RP encounter?

Whether you're a PC or an NPC, I find, it's really easy to tell when you've had a solid RP encounter. It's a feeling. For me, the best RP encounters are understated: a mostly unspoken understanding that occurs between players. Something you can't really describe, because it belongs so wholly to a particular moment. As an NPC, it's rewarding for me when this happens-- it means, in a somewhat limited time frame, I've facilitated a meaningful narrative. As a PC, good RP anchors me to the gameworld. I'm easily distracted, and I need this.

As either an NPC or a PC, how do you know/intuit that you've had a good RP encounter? Of what does a good RP encounter consist? Moreover, how do you work towards positive RP encounters? Or do you try not to think about it?

So many feelings.*

* Yes. I'm aware that I just sabotaged the integrity of my own blog.

Talkative Monsters

In New England, LARPing season is in full swing-- like many of my comrades, for the last few weekends and until it gets really cold, I've been packing my totes and zipping off to the event-of-the-weekend. It's been tiring, but grand. On these many rides to-and-from LARPs, conversations, unsurprisingly, drift towards LARP. One thing that's been popping up a lot for me is the issue of RP-active combat NPCs.

To be clear, these are the crunchies-- the little ones who pop up until you take down the bigger one(s). They are often played by tireless NPCs who have been thugging for most of the weekend. They probably don't have a backstory, and they may or may not have a particularly good briefing. They are there to fight PCs, to be a body, and to amp up the danger of an encounter. This brings me to the problems of role-play with these NPCs.

As a PC, I dislike completely lifeless, uninteresting crunchies. Even if you're only out for an hour, endlessly recycling, I really appreciate when people put in the extra effort to breathe life (or unlife) into Random Zombie 5. Monster-appropriate grunts, movements, and, when appropriate, strategies go a long way for me. With that being said, as a PC, there is nothing more obnoxious than a random monster who is distracting, through over-acting, from the real focus of the fight-- to me, it's like a chorus member constantly upstaging the lead.

So how do you strike a balance in crunchy RP roles? Personally, I think it has a lot to do with monster camp briefing-- as an NPC, I enjoy it when I'm given simple and clear instructions, which include motivations (this can come from a stat card or, ideally, a person). The monster master at Aralis is particularly good at doing this: rousing speeches, funny and wonderfully delivered, provide motivation and meaning for even the smallest roles. I'm curious as to other people's opinions and experiences regarding "RP-active crunchies"? Do you like them? Hate them? Notice them? If you staff games, how do you brief crunchies relative to RP? If you NPC, do you attempt to characterize even the most "inconsequential" monsters? How?

Villainy

As an NPC, I love playing villains. Being the character that PCs love to hate is, in a strange way, rewarding. Even when PCs want to do terrible violence to your character, knowing that you, as an actor, have facilitated an emotional bond is exciting. Furthermore, as a PC, I realize how essential villains are to many LARPs-- especially in PvE LARPs, villains can amp up the intensity of a plot, provide motivation, and offer a moral foil for players. However, while most games have them, I do not think that playing a fully characterized villain is particularly easy: villains have been in fiction for a long, long time, and it's hard to play one without stumbling on some established trope ("evil faerie" and "mad scientist" are my usual go-to's). So, with that in mind, how can you make a villain interesting? How can you make one painfully boring?

As either a PC or an NPC, how do you play villains? From an observer perspective, what types of villain characterizations are successful? Which ones are failures or tired cliches? Do you have any favorite LARP villains (against whom you've fought, or with whom you've "worked")? What makes their characterization so good? What tips do you have for playing good villains?

Staying in Mundania

by Zoe

I was chatting with a friend last night; we were talking LARP, as we tend to do. The friend, who has various experience staffing and playing, mentioned the role of "mundane plot" in LARP-- especially fantasy LARPs or high-magic environments. The friend said that he preferred mundane plot over continually epic, high-fantasy encounters. After some thinking, while I like my epic plot plenty, I came to agree with aspects of this argument. So, I have some questions, and some brief answers of my own. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts.

What is "mundane plot"?
For me, mundane plot is the stuff that makes a world real, but doesn't have universe-dismantling consequences. It's the conversations with farmers, technicians, refugees, villagers, and minor politicians. The modules that allow you to engage with the daily grind of the gameworld's population. The minor moral decisions that don't impact the larger flow of the game, but engage players in a lasting way.

I'll give an example of mundane plot that was engaging for me. In MM, a group of NPCs and staff member lead a weekend plotline that involved a debacle between a fae lord and a village; the bone of contention was a river that the fae lord wanted rerouted. The rerouting would, of course, significantly hamper the villagers; however, the players owed the fae lord a favor. Beyond basic combat modules, the plot involved several round table meetings between the players and related NPCs (including the mayor of the village, villagers, and representatives of the fae contingent). Players, as a group, had to devise ways to appease both parties-- some players, myself included, were, without question, in support of the fae; some were, without question, in support of the villagers; everybody wanted to have their interests represented in the conversation. The plot was, mostly, back and forth discussion about drilling wells, rerouting rivers, and repercussions for the surrounding communities; innovative modules to dig the well and reroute the river followed. Writing it out, it, admittedly, sounds a little boring. However, it wasn't-- it was fantastic. The level of normalcy involved drew us in-- we, epic characters of legend, needed to figure out how to provide irrigation to a random village's crops. If we had decided to ignore the plight of the villagers, in favor of pleasing the fae lord, nothing dire would have happened-- but the goodly players among us would have felt uncomfortable. It was a story arc that, through its normalcy, involved us, as characters, on a variety of levels. Simple as it was, it was a very engaging, well thought-out plot.

How does mundane plot add to a campaign?

As in the example presented above, mundane plot can make players feel involved in the world around them without involving higher-order fantasy. It can be a good way to involve character well-versed in the universe, but also to pull in newer players who may not understand the grand overarching schemes. Moreover, when epic characters and plotlines are constantly used, they have a tendency to get old and, worst case scenario, cheesy. Throwing in a goodly dose of "mundania" can help that.

When does it detract from a campaign?

Mundane plot, when done poorly, can feel like filler. Poorly done mundane plot feels like modules for bored players, or for players who don't have any connection to a larger plot. Obviously, this is problematic, and needs to be avoided. Careful writing and, perhaps even more importantly, really good NPCs, can help people avoid this. In order for mundane plot to work, the actors involved need to be skillful, knowledgeable, and interesting (easier said than done)-- that way, minor issues feel like major issues, which is the trick to making mundane plot work.

So... how do you use mundane plot in your LARPs? Do you enjoy it? Avoid it? What are some successes and failures you've had?

Theory Thursday: Playing with Morality

Most of the LARPs I play have a distinctly "heroic" morality-- characters are expected to a) do good things, b) support good things, and/or c) at the very least, do bad things quietly. However, as many of us know, even within a "heroic" setting, there is plenty of room for moral shades of gray.


With that being said, as an NPC, PC, or staff person, what have some of your most interesting "moral moments" been? What difficult decisions have you forced on players? What dilemmas, as a player, have you had to reconcile? How does morality, and the ramifications of moral decisions, add to the bigger narrative of your game?


(Also, thanks to everyone for the fantastic comments on recent posts. It's exciting to have such a thoughtful readership on this blog-- it really helps to keep the conversation going, and to widen perspectives on LARP.)

How do you deal with boredom at a LARP?

No matter how thrilling the LARP, how invested your character, nor how seemingly non-stop the action, every single character, in every single LARP, will eventually come across the Great Beast of Boredom.

Boredom, at a LARP, happens. It happens for a variety of reasons: you're not interested in the weekend's main plot; it's just not "your event," and, while all of your friends are getting personal plot, you're sitting in a tavern, vainly hoping the weird-looking-creature-from-another-realm is looking for you and not the other weird-looking-creature-from-another-realm; you, through ill-fated odds, have missed every single NPC who has waltzed into town, looking for unoccupied adventurers of any sort. This stuff happens to everyone, though hopefully not routinely. And it causes boredom, which can easily shift to negativity, hurt feelings, and out-of-game dissatisfaction with an event.

I think that dealing with boredom is an important skill, and one that I am slowly learning. Especially during a busy or transitional event, it's important to be able, I feel, to entertain yourself using the structure around you-- even at the most "you-centric" event, chances are you will have a couple hours or more of downtime. For newer players, it can be difficult to get involved with larger swaths of plot. For example, recently, due to some stretches of inactivity at a previous event, my friend and I started designing an in-game, self-sufficient group to make us feel more involved. The beauty of this group is that it is completely player driven, and operates within the existing structure of the game world: when plot is busy making the event run smoothly, we'll have something to do that requires no outside "help." (I'll let you know how it goes once it's in the works officially.)

How do you deal with boredom? More interestingly, has your game improved because of steps to involve yourself?

Getting into Character: Writing Exercises

by Zoe

Perhaps its the end of semester giddiness, but I find myself, after 200 pages of required writing, very happy to dip my pen into the font of non-academic writing. Not only does that include blogs, but a few in-game projects as well. I'm currently helping Chris (Mushir) on an in-game proposal for a school of psionics (Mirror, Mirror), Tev's Guide to Fae and Other Unlikely Creatures (she's compiling a book), work for Invictus (which you'll just have to come play if you're interested), and a book of illustrated fables from Madrigal (primarily having to do with the foxtail happenings). I write, and teach writing, professionally-- I have found, in my LARP life or otherwise, that writing really helps me work through the kinks in my ideas, characterizations, and goals. With that general idea, I thought some writing exercises for LARP characterizations might be in order...

Karin, of larpohio, wrote a good article on getting back in character after a seasonal break. She has some great tips and ideas (like refreshing yourself on rules), and I'd like to continue with one of her tips: reconnecting with your character. On this topic, Karin notes:

1.) Re-connect with your character - Over a break, it's easy to lose the momentum you built with your character last season.  Once you're back into the swing of playing, you may realize you're not as connected with your character.  Review your character's history to refresh your roleplay. Remember what your character's about - maybe watch the movie that inspired them, or pick out a theme song to get into their mood. Then take some time to remember what you were up to last year, and figure out what you want to get into this year.  If you don't have character goals, make some up! :)  Decide what you want to do as a character in-game, and what kind of cool skills you'd like to work up to out-of-game.  This can help you decide what you want to pursue at events, or between games, if you're looking for direction.

 This is a really excellent point, and I wanted to expand on it through writing exercises. Characterization drills, the type that many fiction writers use, may be a great way to work on fleshing out a tired, forgotten, or uninteresting character. Moreover, in the larger scheme of things, it gives you something tangible, out of game, that you can keep or share with others (and submit to me). Finally, if you're writing plot for a LARP, this can be really useful too-- it creates a richer world populated with not just one, but dozens of well constructed characters. So, here are some classic exercises to get you started:

1. Explore character arcs.

After a year or more of LARPing, your character has probably been involved in more than a few plot arcs. Your valorous warrior has probably experienced everything from werewolf hunting to infiltration missions to greater demons hitting the field. On a rainy day, look at Post Event Letters or game notes you've made. What plot arcs have you completed? What did your character gain or learn from them? How did your character feel about the arcs? Plot is what makes a game run, and if your character has complicated emotions about these arcs, it makes for a better game. It also helps you learn where you're going with character development. Also, it puts things in bigger picture perspective, which can be helpful with the multiple plots that inevitably run.

2. Write miniature bios for everyone in your character's history.

Sure. We all have the long-lost friend, the estranged family member, or the nemesis that is important to our characters' histories. However, how many of these supporting characters are really fleshed out? If someone were to waltz up to you as Erde the Barbarian, and ask her, "So did your brother get along with his son?" would you/Erde be able to answer? Better yet, would you/Erde be able to, at length, talk about the squabbles the two of them used to have. Some LARPers are good at both a) improv and b) continuity, so having a backstory for your background characters isn't a problem. However, many of us would simply offer a more dynamic game if we could respond to questions like this without stammering out an off-the-cuff guess. Detail, briefly, the things that make your secondary characters tick. Start with basic like age, appearance, family, location, occupation, religion, and that sort of thing. Work into more complicated thoughts as you get familiar with the character.

3. Put your character in a situation, and problematize.

Imagine a situation, either simple or complex (and, ideally, something from your gameworld), and write it down. For instance, something along the lines of "your character's mentor is actually working for the other side" or "your character is given a leadership position of significant responsibility." How would your character respond? This can be a good way to explore the motivations that you've given to your character.

4. Play the "why?" game.

Little kids of a certain age seem to punctuate every conversation with the word, "why?" This isn't because their intent on exposing our adult inadequacies, it's because they're curious. Asking "why?" is a good way to explore a situation. List 5-10 significant actions your character has taken or wants to take. At the end of each action, jot down, "why?" Now try to answer that question. Especially if you've taken actions that are ambiguous or unclear to you, this can be a good exercise to hash things out. (For example, "I went on that module and killed those merfolk, even though they were relatively harmless." "Why?" "My good friend really wanted the treasure they had, and I thought that was a good way to express loyalty; now I (my character) am having some serious doubts about the morality of my team." Et voila! A seemingly inconsequential module turns into a cesspool of personal angst and character drama!)

5. Soliloquize. 

If your character could, in the middle of a heated battle or political intrigue, step aside and deliver an internal monologue to a watching audience, what would it sound like? Pretend your character is an actor, delivering a soliloquy. Write your character's most internal thoughts, and present them dramatically. Try to get across not only your character's motivations, but that person's particular style and manner of speaking.

Anyways, go have fun. And if any of these were useful, let me know!

Marcel Mauss, Beneficial Actions, and Refusing a Gift

Contributor: Zoe
Submission: The art of beneficial traits and character development

Just some very pretentious rambling about LARP theory and anthropological theory.
For those of you who have taken courses in anthropology or economic theory, you are probably familiar with Marcel Mauss’s theory of the gift and reciprocity. For those of you who are not, I will briefly summarize one of the key points: gift-giving creates social bonds between members of a group. Reciprocity, the impulse and obligation to return an equal-and-opposite (and-even-slightly-greater) gift in return, is one of the most fundamental of these bonds. Therefore, when an individual refuses a gift or refuses to return a gift, then they are not behaving neutrally, but instead making a very strong statement. To refuse an individual’s gift, for instance, can be to refuse a relationship with that person. The Gift, by Marcel Mauss, is a relatively slim novel, and worth picking up, if this interests you.

Onto LARP and gift theory...

Into the Fold

Contributor: Zoe
Submission: A non-fiction look at bringing newcomers into an existing LARP group.

Bringing people to a game can be one of the most fun parts of a LARP. After months, maybe even years, of trying to convince friends to play with your team, you may find yourself wildly excited, and nervous, to bring new sheep to the flock. But why nervous? You may ask. Well, because suggesting a LARP to someone is like recommending a favorite restaurant to a friend. What if, despite your gushing and glowing, the friend hates the apple pie at Mimi's Diner? Or what if they get food poisoning from the seafood platter? Or what if, worst of all, the restaurant staff is rude to your friend? After a bad experience, your friend will, of course, still be your friend... but something is undeniably different-- you, O' Sage Suggester, have demonstrated that, despite a nigh familial bond with Friend XYZ, you either have a) poor judgment or b) no understanding of Friend XYZ's tastes. Despite everyone's good intentions, when you lovingly recommend something to a friend, and things go poorly, trust is a bit shaken. This probably resonates with many people who have or would consider bringing a friend to a LARP.

Obviously, LARPs just aren't for some people. I like to think these people don't like fun, but, hey, that's why there are different flavors of ice cream. For most people, LARPs are awesome-- for many, however, LARP-fun might require a bit of social lubrication. This is especially true if you, the seasoned LARPer bringing friends to a game, is well-established in the LARP community. So, here are a few tips to consider before you usher in your companions.

World Building: What Do You Look For in a New Universe?

This is just a quick post that is really more for my edification. I'm currently writing LARP background plot for the up-and-coming Invictus. I love to write, so I find myself lost in the little details. However, I'm wondering what people look for in new game universe information. What sort of things get you to play a game? What do you need to successfully build a character? What is unimportant? What do games often leave out, that you wish was included? Consider the following topics, how important are they to you?

1. Cosmology, religion, and ritual practice.
2. A solid rule and skill system, clearly written and available. 
3. Pictures and visuals from the gameworld.
4. A detailed geography and climate with regional information and a map.
5. Suggestions for clothing, make-up, and props.
6. A guide to game-appropriate weapons and armor.
7. Culture write-ups for regions or ethnic groups.
8. A rich political system that PC can immediately join.
9. A guide to NPCs that a character would know or about whom a character would have information.
10. A timeline and current-events log for the game.
11. An active and usable forum system, website, and character database.
12. A bestiary.

Just a teensy amount of Beth. Wonderful. Important. Experienced. How to Talk to "Big NPCs"

Contributor: Beth Fallon 
Submission: How To Talk To "Big NPCs"/non-fiction from someone who really does know
LARP system: Madrigal / Accelerant

Your Location: Ayer, MA
Character name: Every character in the book. I owe her an art request, for sure.
Years LARPing: 21
Contact Email: efallon@earthlink.net

Having noted a reticence of some otherwise awesome players to talk to Plot-Staff NPCs, a handy guide to interaction! 

Character Design/Development

Contributor: JJ
Submission/Title: Character Design/Development

     I like hearing about the processes through which other people come up with their characters.  Not stats, so much, as the concept for the character itself, mostly because I've seen a great number of different ways that people approach character building, and I'm hoping a few other people might be willing to share how they do it.  I'll stick with PC characters, because the process of creating NPCs is an entirely different beast.

     For me, I find that I tend to pick a couple of base concepts that I need/want to start with for OOG reasons, and build from that, coming up for IG reasons why the OOG things I want to happen have happened, and how my character got to where she is now, and that aside from 'I will be a healer' 'I want to hit things', tend to leave statting for the end of the process. 

     Omi, a human healer, was the first character I'd come up with for any game whatsoever.  I didn't really know how to do this larp thing; I was familiar with roleplaying, but only playing characters that had been given to me, I had pretty mediocre costuming (and was terrified at the idea of trying to paint anything on my face), and I certainly didn't know anything about the game world.  The OOG concept for her was pretty much "I'm not sure I understand this, so I'm not even going to try to pretend that I do".  So she became an ignorant farmgirl who'd been dragged into adventuring by a combination of coincidence and bad/good luck, with no sense of fashion and a fair amount of curiosity about nearly everything.  I ended up filling in some minor details (like, oh, what country she was from) years later, but by then, she was pretty well established, personality-wise.

     Fathom was my first attempt at making a character that was part of an established group.  OOG concept was pretty much 'try new things'.  I'd been larping for a while at that point, and wanted to do a bunch of things I'd seen from the plot side but never gotten to do myself.  I'd never been part of an established team before (my first team that Omi was part of literally met each other on the road a few days before we hit game); I really wanted to play someone who got to fight with a weapon; I wanted to try playing a non-human and I got excited to explore religion in the game, since the first game I played doesn't do religion.  So I ended up with an Adelith (water-aligned race) priest of the god of the oceans who ran around with a mercenary company hitting things with a polearm.  Working all of that into one character history was a bit challenging, but fun, and I did have fun with all the new stuff.

  

     Mary, a human doctor/pirate, was created entirely in response to a request from some friends that I come play a healer for their pirate crew, because there were too many of them and only one healer, and because they were having a ton of fun with the game.  Somewhat amusingly, the OOG concept for her was 'Not Omi!'.  I was worried that me playing an OSG ('one sword guy') healer would end up with me automatically reprising Omi, so a lot of Mary was designed to guide me away from accidentally acting like Omi.  Omi was pretty goodly, Mary ended up a half-step away from sociopath.  Omi had a good childhood and a big family, Mary was an orphan with a traumatic past, and a chip the size of a ship on her shoulder.  Omi nearly always used her sword for defense only, Mary ran around the battlefield (somewhat stupidly) chasing things with her sword.  It was fun, but definitely a challenge.  One other thing that I think probably strongly influenced the design of that character was the knowledge that it was a short-term game, so I was free to try some things that I wasn't sure I'd be able to pull off/enjoy (like giving her a damaged voice that I continually had to remind myself of), because I knew I wouldn't have to keep it up very long. 

 

How about other people?

Simple to follow, and honest. Please leave comments below.

To see a developed character history, read Zephyr or Terra!