Convention
Play
In the
first of a number of articles regarding the nature of the games we play, I’m
going to take a look at a number of things about conventions. In this, I’m looking at a much misunderstood
role that’s central to a whole lot of games, and in particular, the way in
which it relates to Conventions and the games played within.
The Games
Master
Being the
Games Master is more than being in charge of the world, it’s literally the
responsibility for every single part of the world that’s being played in, and a
lot of people let that go to their heads.
Everyone has stories of the GM that made it their story, of the sudden
visits from the Emporer of Mankind when Bob the guardsman refused to pay his
tab at the local tavern, of foes numerous and complex (that all happened to
share physical or social characteristics with the GM) who proved vastly too
cunning and capable for all the players schemes, particularly when the players
had outlined them out of character only for the villains to prepare cunning
counterplans with information that only God could have provided…
When
you’re at home, surrounded by friends that you’ve known for years, that’s
exactly who and what you are. You’ve had
chance to get to know these people, you know what buttons to press and what not
to press, where the limits are and where you can and can’t go.
You’ve
got History with these people.
But what
about when you’re running for those you don’t know.
The difference
between the game that you run at home and the game that you prepare for people
at conventions is that they don’t know you (for the most part, there are a few
professional GM’s out there with names that draw attention, but they’re few and
far between), so they don’t know anything about you or how you roll, and that causes
the first problem.
You’ve
got No History with these people
So what
do to?
A lot of
GM’s I know have a basic understanding of the rules and a knowledge of the
world that extends as far as the scenario that they’re running, and for some,
that’s enough to get by.
To be
fair, it is enough to Get By...
Getting
by is not where we should be aiming for when we’re running games at conventions...
When we
run games at conventions, unless the system is something that’s been dead and unavailable
for some years (Cyborg Commando for example), then we’re acting as a
representative for that game and by extension, the company that made it and all
the effort that went into making it.
Many people go to conventions to try out the new releases and see what
they like about it and what they don’t like about it, so there’s a reason why a
lot of companies offer a rewards program for demonstrating their games, or in
the case of conventions, provide free entry (and sometimes much more) in return
for people running games for them.
It’s a
give and give situation with convention games.
I don’t know any conventions that won’t give you free entry for running
games, so from the organisers perspective, they give you the freebie of entry
and you provide them with a game that will entertain the people that turn up to
that convention. Most of the smaller
conventions have no quality control in place to make sure that the people who
turn up are running what they say they are, and even fewer have something in
place to make sure that the game was some good.
With that
in mind, and I appreciate that it’s my personal perspective on these things and
from a time before I started running conventions but went to all of them to
run.
These are
the rules that I’ve always lived by:
Rule One:
Run something you actually want to run...
Most
conventions are happy for any game that people will actually play, and with
this in mind, you should consider the games that you’re offering to run for
them. If you don’t like running a game,
whether it’s the system being used, the setting, the type of dice used, whatever it may be, it will show through
when you’re running the game. No one
likes being made to do something that they don’t want to do and this is never
more apparent than when you sit down at the table and it’s clear the GM doesn’t
want to be there and is already regretting it, and that brings me to...
Rule Two:
Have something prepared that you know inside and out...
Some
people, mostly the ones who’ve been around since god were a lad, run things
from the top of their head, they’ve spent decades getting good at this and
they’ve got the time served in the trenches to know that what they’re doing is
the right thing, that they won’t get any problem because they know what the
players want and can adjust the game on the fly.
Good for
them.
Presuming
you’re not one of them, learn the scenario, learn it till you can run it
without looking at the book to tell people what comes next. It doesn’t have to be a complex scenario,
some of the most successful games are wandering people around a ten room
dungeon with a boss monster, but it doesn’t install confidence in a player that
their GM knows what’s going on when you have to read something straight from
the book rather than having that knowledge already there for you to use.
If you’ve
got a published scenario, be aware the players may know something of it, and
therefore might argue if you get it wrong and they can prove it. If you’re
running something you made, keep notes handy by all means, creature stats
somewhere you can easily access, but the meat of the adventure, the parts where
the players are roleing and not rolling, you need to have that in your
head, which brings me to...
Rule Three:
Learn the system.
This may
seem like common sense, but it’s astounding how many GM’s turn up with only the
basics of the system (which dice it runs on, what target number the players
need to aim for) and hope to fudge the rest.
In the case of those who’ve never played the system, it’s not a problem,
as any issue with the rules can be glossed over with handwavium, but when you
get a single player at the table who knows any of the rules slightly more than
you do (and worse, has a copy of the book with them), and
it’s not the system that looks bad, it’s you.
I’m not talking about the rules lawyers that pick out page 27, paragraph
2, line 3, but the ones who know the basic system enough to know that you made
a mistake with the basics.
Some
systems (any of the new star wars as a prime example) have specialist dice that
you need to be familiar with, you need to know what each symbol means and you
need to be able to explain that quickly and easily to anyone playing the
game. If it means learning a whole new
book that you don’t want to learn, look back up to rule one, if it means
offering a game in one universe while using a system from another one, make
that clear when you offer the game up, as it will change the dynamic
significantly depending on the system you run things with. For all those saying that the system doesn’t make
that much difference, try running a FATE based game using Rolemaster rules and
watch how many players get up and walk after seeing the character sheet.
And on
the subject of players expectations...
Rule
Four: Give the players the time they booked for...
A lot of
scenarios are in the three to four hour range in terms of time allotted. This means that allowing for a half hours
orientation on the game, mechanics, characters and background, you should have
between two and three hours game to run the players through. If your game can be run through in an hour,
consider this before you advertise it as four, padding can be done with any
game, but too much of it and it becomes very apparent that you’re padding and
there’s nothing left in the scenario box.
Equally, if it’s an opera that will take six hours if the players set
off at a sprint and don’t ever slow down, be aware that you’ll have to cut
something out to get it to fit in four hours or even run down the line of a
TPK, which brings me to...
Rule
Five: You keep what you kill...
TPK
doesn’t always mean Total Party Kill. It can mean Tradehall! Party! Kan’t be
bothered! (And if you pronounce Kan’t in an east london accent, you’re likely
to understand what your player will think of you if you do this too often) and
it’s one of the original ways of making sure the game ends quickly so that you,
the GM, can get back to looking around the convention yourself and having a
good time whilst still getting your rewards.
Last
year, we had a GM come back after an hour saying that the whole party was
dead. When asked what happened, he
shrugged, unconcerned, and said “Sometime’s that’s how that scenario goes”.
His
players were less impressed at his nonchalance.
He was
not invited back this year.
At Expo I
take particular pride that I (now anyway) hardly ever have to refund a player
for a bad game, the people I have running games for me there are all good GM’s,
every one of them skilled and able, and as a result, even when a TPK is
registered, they’ve had a good time getting there and some game systems
(Paranoia anyone?) encourage that frantic method of playing where the players
end up shooting each other to bits and have a good time doing it.
But a
cautionary word...
Some
players react really well to the idea that they just got mullered, some really
don’t, and while some element of danger needs to be present in the game or it
just turns into a paint by numbers, the challenge should always be tailored to
the characters that are present (if using pregens) or the characters that are
expected (if allowing or encouraging people to bring their own
characters).
If all
the players die within minutes, start over, give them another chance, because
otherwise, you’re not just killing their characters, you’re killing your
reputation.
And
unlike the characters, raise dead doesn’t work on your reputation...
Rule
Six: Don’t be late, Don’t ever be
late...
Whether
it looks like it or not, the table that you’re running for is your house for
the duration of that whole game, they’re coming to you to play a game, and the
expectation is just the same as if you had your friends over, if they all turn
up and you’re not in, they get confused. I’m not saying that it’s house rules
and you need to have the beers chilled and the snacks ready, but when the
players turn up, they want to find you there, ready for them, rules book on one
side, character sheets on the other, ready to give them their game.
When they
turn up and you’re not there, they get anxious
“What if
I’m in the wrong room?”
“What if
the GM’s in the wrong room?”
“Is the
game still running?”
“Should I
be here?”
None of
this makes for a good starting atmosphere, particularly if you run in ten
minutes after kick off and then start distributing things to a table that may
have already lost some of the players because they figured the game was called
off, and the others have got the impression that you either didn’t know what
time you were running, or you just couldn’t be bothered to get there for
them...
You might
not be getting paid in cold hard cash, but you’re there to do a job and it’s
the best job in the world, it’s giving other people a good time, it’s making
the world a little shinier, if only for six people for three hours.
What you
don’t see as an isolated GM (and I do as the one who looks over all of it), is
that those people come back to the front desk and tell me what an awesome (or
awful) time they had, and how much they liked (or loathed) the game they played
in, and I keep a track of that, and those people I get the good reports back in
from are the ones I go to every time. In
the case of the best GM’s, they’re the ones I go to when I have special events
that I need quality people for, they’re the ones I organise things around, and
when they come to me with ideas for special events, they’re the ones I listen
to, and I’m not the only organiser to make those lists.
The list
isn’t exclusive, and certainly it only reflects my personal thoughts when it
comes to convention games, but I believe that one good GM is worth ten bad
ones, because the one GM who provides an excellent game will literally have
sold copies of the game they’re running to every player at that table, whereas
the ten bad GM’s will have ensured that those players go away with bad thoughts
when they think of that game.
Consider
which of those the games companies will want running their games...
Consider
which of those the convention organisers want to see coming back...
Consider
if it’s worth upping your game to meet those expectations...
And let
me know your thoughts in return.
