baronfulmen:

latining:

prokopetz:

When you’re just starting out in tabletop roleplaying games, something a lot of GMs have trouble with is demanding player buy-in.

They think they have to let everybody create whatever character they want, and it’s their job to somehow corral that herd of cats into a working game.

This is not, in fact, the case.

Every tabletop game is about something, even if it’s as simple as “a group of people who explore dungeons, fight monsters, and get treasure”. It’s not only okay to insist that your players provide characters who can play nice with the game’s premise, it’s practically required to get anywhere.

As a GM, it’s totally okay to say: “This is a game about a group of people having adventures. Your character must be the sort of person who can function in a team setting in general, and as a member of this particular team in specific. They can be the sort of person who makes great pretence of being a loner, then ends up working as a team player anyway – every team needs its Wolverine – but if you actually try to go off and do your own thing all the time, or if you refuse to cooperate with other characters because you’ve dreamed up an irreconcilable personality conflict, you’re being a dick. Don’t be a dick.”

And it’s not just about group dynamics, either – it’s okay to demand buy-in for the game’s setting and concept, too. If you’re running a gritty, high-tension conspiracy thriller, and somebody wants to play as a literal cartoon character, Who Framed Roger Rabbit style, it’s okay to say: “Yeah, maybe hang onto that one for our next campaign.”

(And no, that’s not a hypothetical example – someone actually tried to pull that stunt in a game I was part of. Obviously if everybody submits cartoon characters, you should recognise that your players are in the mood for something different than what you’ve proposed; if their ideas are all over the map, however, insisting that they get their asses on the same page before proceeding is wholly reasonable.)

“I was just roleplaying my character” is never an excuse for being contrary, because it was the player who created the character in the first place. Everything their character does is ultimately on them, because they chose to define them in such a way that roleplaying them correctly would demand being a dick to the GM and the other players.

Don’t be a dick – and as a GM, don’t be afraid to call dickery when you see it.

I think this is the first time in twenty years of gaming that I’ve seen this addressed.

There’s a LOT of material out there to “up your GM game” which usually means taking on an extra unpaid full time job in the hopes of “giving your players the best experience”. These are the posts that suggest painting personal minis for everyone (min. 15 hr investment), writing a personalised adventure (5 hrs/2 levels), making and hand-painting terrain for combat… not to mention memorising all the player’s skills, spells, and abilities, which is an almost impossible feat by level 5.

I’m gonna level with you: I have never seen this advice encourage anyone to run a game. It’s usually cited as a reason people prefer to play a character instead of run of game. “Running a game is just so much WORK, you know?”

And these are the same people, who have learned from reading the same articles, that it is their right as a player to play whatever bullshit gonzo concept popped into their head, and it’s the GM’s responsibility not only to balance that concept with the story and game, but in many cases write a custom class to go along with it.

As a gaming culture we explicitly talk about how a GM doesn’t have the right to say no to their players, how it’s their DUTY to synthesise disharmonious character concepts into a whole, and how if they don’t put in hours of extra work, they obviously don’t care about the player experience.

And then we wonder why so many people are reluctant to start their own groups and prefer to watch streamed games.

Not only do I do this, I take it one step further: “Your characters all know each other. You’ve worked together for more than a year, so while you may still have some secrets for the most part you all know what to expect. We will not be doing an in-game scene where you all meet in a damn tavern. Design your characters accordingly.”

And you know, the people I play with do a great job of it. They invent in-jokes on the fly and refer to various noodle incidents and it feels like a team right away. And I don’t have to deal with the mysterious loner character that, realistically, they would immediately ditch.