Your job as GM is diverse; you must provide the rudiments of story, the reactions of the world to player actions, the framework to keep the game stable, and all other manner of narrative tasks. Describing details an important element of that work. I have written about how to describe various aspects of the game: critical rolls, combat, magic, and other details. But setting is another vital part of the game, and describing it well will enrich your game and give your players a better sense of the world. Read on to learn how to describe your game's setting.
Generally, there are two reasons you might be describing the setting of your story. Option 1 is that you're introducing your players to an area, and your goal is to describe it well enough that they have a sense of where they are. Option 2, on the other hand, is where your players are in a scene that you have already introduced, and you need to add more details so that they can make use of their surroundings. You'll want to take different details into consideration depending on which scenario you're dealing with. Let's start, naturally, with option 1.
When you introduce your players and their characters to a new area, you have three things to keep in mind: detail, scope, and pacing. Detail refers to the level of description you give--yes, the shack in the clearing is built of stone, but what else would characters notice about it? They might take note of the architectural style, understanding it to be classic dwarven construction. They might notice that a small herb garden lies to the south of the shack. They may recognize that they shack has only one small window and is otherwise unadorned. These kinds of details may require a Perception check to notice if that's your style; I prefer to include most obvious details as part of my initial description because it's more logical that player characters would be paying attention when they encounter a new scene than rolling a 2 and seeing nothing of note (how would someone reasonably miss a stone shack in the middle of a clearing?).
The above example uses a human-made structure; in that case, you want to use your understanding of buildings to describe it. Scenes in nature will correspondingly require you to use your knowledge of plant life to characterize the scene. Let's keep the shack example and describe the woods surrounding it. The players can notice with a Nature check or Survival check that the trees nearby are generally sycamores and elms, all high enough to be at least 50 years old. On the ground are shrubs and bushes, mostly ferns. The players can hear the chirping of birds and the distant clacking of a deer's antlers against a tree; a Nature or Survival check will identify the birds as finches and a mockingbird. There are many other details we could include, such as how thick and tall the grass is, how dense the trees are, or what the weather is life. Whether or not we include these details relies on our other two considerations: scope and pacing.
Scope is an important idea to consider when describing setting. There are a whole range of details you could provide, but how fine of detail should you get into? By way of example, let's stick with the shack in the clearing. We've described the architecture and the nature around it; what other details are valuable? That depends a lot on whether we're dealing with option 1 (first time encountering an area) and option 2 (filling in details). Option 2 will require more description in terms of scope, but more on that later. For now, option 1 means we need to make sure that our players have a good sense of the scene. In addition to the information we've already established, let's add a few other details. It is a balmy spring day, nearly noon, and a light breeze plays through the leaves on the nearby trees. A few clouds hang in the sky, including one in the shape of a rabbit's head. A small path has been beaten into the ground leading from a chopping block to the front door of the house. Now we have a fuller scene that the players can really dig into. Further details would probably clutter things up, so we won't go into more detail when the players initially encounter the scene.
Pacing is the counterbalance to scope. Where scope demands that you consider the full range of what the players might notice, pacing demands that you also respond to player perception without weighing them down with too much detail. For some games, the detail about the rabbit-shaped cloud is too much detail because it doesn't really add anything to the story. This is the measure of pacing: does it affect the way you can tell your story? Good pacing would be introducing the details named above and turning control over to the players to further investigate things. As Pearl S. Buck once said something to the effect that good storytelling should never be bogged down by details; the pacing of the story matters more than anything else. Embrace this idea--don't worry about leaving the players in the dark as far as certain details go; the players can always use their actions to refocus the story back on where you're going. But at the same time, pacing requires enough information to go off of, so don't entirely skimp on description. A good rule to go by is whether your players are tuning out during your description: if they're getting bored and losing attention, trim your descriptions; if they're asking loads of questions about setting, step up your description game.
When you introduce your players to a new area, you want to provide all the details that would be both fairly obvious and which advance the story. For example, with the shack in the clearing, if the goal is to introduce the players to a hermit-like character, it would be important to provide details that characterize how solitary the character is: there is a large vegetable garden, a tanning rack, a stack of recently-chopped firewood piled against the shack. Now when the players encounter the hermit, they'll already know the lengths to which this character has gone to live alone. You may wish to include certain details only with a Perception check. This applies mostly to puzzles you want your players to solve. For instance, if going to the shack was the plan for meeting and confronting a powerful spellcaster, and the hermit secretly is that spellcaster, you'll want to offer a few setting-based clues. Magic books might be hidden in a secure location, there may be potions-grade herbs growing in the garden, and there may be a collection of homemade wands stashed away. These kinds of details reveal story moments, and advancing the story through them often means challenging the players with something like a skill check.
But let's say that you've already described the scene to your players, and now that they have been in the scene for a while, they want to notice specific details about the place. Now we're dealing with option 2, which means slightly different procedures for description, although we still use the same three ideas to guide our description: detail, scope, and pacing.
Your players have investigated the shack in the clearing. They have decided before going in to look more closely at the surroundings of the shack. Now it's time to offer refined descriptions of what we've already said. Inspecting the grounds reveals more specific details than the first time. The vegetable garden on the grounds is mostly corn, wheat, and root vegetables; there are stumps of freshly cut trees at the edge of the clearing, suggesting the clearing was smaller before the shack was built; a prize buck's skin is stretched on the tanning rack. These details may seem insignificant on the surface, but they provide the player characters with both characterization so everyone is picturing a similar place and the ammunition to develop crazy plans. Experienced GMs: how likely is is that a player harvests a few cornstalks to create a disguise? Or uses the deerskin to try to wrap the hermit up? These things are distinct possibilities, and they only became possible because you mentioned these details in the first place.
Not only should your level of detail increase when your players are more closely inspecting a scene, but the details you provide should suggest possibilities to your players. Let's imagine that the players have inspected the grounds and then enter the shack to find it empty, its owner tending to business in the woods. Now our description of the scene should offer opportunities for the players to act. Once they're inside, we describe the scene: there is a small table and chair, both seemingly built of the same wood as the surrounding forest. The hermit has a bookcase with mundane books nearly filling it, and a small woodstove with a stack of wood next to it. The bed is a simple stack of straw and a blanket. On the north wall hangs a hand-carved symbol of Obad-Hai, god of nature and balance. High Investigation checks reveal the secreted-away magic books, wands, and potions-ready herbs, allowing the players to interfere with the hermit's plans before they return home. These details not only characterize the scene, they guide players to making story decisions.
Scope matters with extended descriptions as well. Your scope of detail should expand considerably when players are further investigating a scene. I recommend roughly doubling the amount of information you give, unless there is a deliberate shortage of information to challenge the player characters, such as a player finding a magic wand and needing to discern what spell it casts. So once the players are inside the shack and they're investigating, go back over everything you've already covered and add a new detail to each thing. The woodstove is roughly put together, but still hot. The bookcase's tomes are organized chronologically, and most of the books are at least 100 years old. The small table and chair are both a bit wobbly due to leg length disparities. The straw bed is depressed in the shape of an adult dwarf. The symbol of Obad-Hai is crude, but living yellow flowers sit where the god's eyes would be. Again, these details don't drastically change the story, but they do create openings for the players to run with certain ideas. Just from these five details, the players might choose any variety of tactics: they may try to feed the fire in the woodstove, looking to burn the structure from within; they may search the books for strategies in dealing with the hermit; they may cut into the chair's leg to knock the hermit over when unsuspecting; they may hide caltrops in the straw to hurt the hermit; they may steal the symbol of Obad-Hai in order to gain a bargaining chip. Any of these strategies is possible once you've described the basis for them. And even if your players don't take any of these details as strategies, they still get a very complete picture of the hermit as a person from investigating their living quarters.
Finally, we have the matter of pacing when it comes to extended investigation. This can go either way; you'll either want to slow down or speed up these scenes depending on your players. Generally, the rule is this: if your players are trying to speed the scene up, speed it up with them. If your players are getting more granular, match them. Let's say the players are speeding the scene up; they've heard rustling around in the woods from inside the shack, and now they're trying to hide for an ambush. They're trying to speed things up, driving the hermit into combat. So our description of the hermit's moving around outside and entering the shack should be quick and to the point: You hear the rustling continue outside until it is just outside the door, which swings open to reveal the hermit. One simple sentence that conveys everything we need. For sake of comparison, let's look at an example in the same situation with too much description (unless you're trying to drive up the anticipation with a lengthy description): You can hear the plodding of leather boots on the ground, meandering their way toward the shack. It sounds as though they approach the garden and stand watch for a moment. Suddenly, the rustling approaches the door, and with a creak, it swings open to reveal the silhouette of a stocky dwarf in the doorway. As I mention parenthetically, this isn't a bad idea, necessarily; you may want your players on the edge of their seats at the beginning of the ambush. But if the players are accelerating the story, you should generally accelerate too.
Likewise, slowing down generally means you do the same. Let's say that rather than ambush the hermit, the player characters are waiting politely outside the shack for the hermit to return home. When they see the hermit in the distance, they give friendly waves and call out. They're not pushing the action; in fact, they're actively trying to have a conversational approach rather than a more decisive one. So we slow down a bit. Our description should get longer and more elaborate in response: The hermit slowly picks their way through the woods, stepping carefully between fallen trees and shrubs. Once they are within seeing distance, they offer a friendly wave of their own, but their body language suggests that they are on-guard. Still nearly 100 feet away, they cry out like a bird of prey, and a large hawk swoops down and nestles on their outstretched arm. Finally, they reach shouting distance and stop at the edge of the woods, sycamores hanging low over them in the afternoon light. This description characterizes the encounter and further establishes the setting; by adjusting our pacing to a slower speed, we draw this dramatic moment out, and the hermit's approach becomes more of a stand-off to begin with.
And just as slowing down when your players speed up can make a scene more complicated and tense, speeding up when your players slow down can do the same. As they make choices that try to slow down and draw out the scene, you counteract it with a rapid response from the gameworld. Let's stick with the above example: the hermit is standing off a ways, waiting for the party to say their piece. The party is using negotiating tactics, but the hermit can see that they are outnumbered and at a tactical disadvantage, and they want to introduce some chaos to even the odds. So they pull an ax from their pack, quickly chop a few times into a nearby tree, and guide it to fall on the party. The players, with their methodical approach, will be challenged to adopt a new plan when the world is spinning quicker than they're acting. Use this tool--challenging the pace of the players--sparingly if you can. Generally, you want the players to be making decisions based on what they want, not what they're being forced to do by the game.
Setting description can become a lot easier if you use visual aids. With a battlemat and figurines (or a roll20 map, for that matter), you can depict many of the details that would become difficult to describe without their help. Use drawings, reference art, or any other visual aid you find helpful. But also remember that some details cannot be included by visual aids. And remember that your players are imagining the world as you describe it, but their characters are actually in the world. They would notice a handful of things automatically that would characterize a scene, even with a bad Perception roll. So err on the side of overdescription when in doubt. Your players will thank you for it.
That's all for now. Coming soon: how to involve player character-related NPCs in your game, how to allow characters to customize their appearances, and how to use TRPGs as therapeutic tools. Until next time, happy gaming!
Back to the homepage (where you can find everything!)
No comments:
Post a Comment