W y rd
con
c O mpa
2 01 n iO N
2
Edited by
Sarah Lynne Bowman, Ph.D.
and Aaron Vanek
Tips for interacting with the Wyrd Con Companion Book:
Use the latest version of Adobe Acrobat Reader
Red text, if you are connected to the Internet, either links to the web or sets
up an email to the author.
You will need to trust the document for the links to work
Text in blue will link to other articles in the document
Clicking on will bring you to the Table of Contents
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/ or send a letter to Creative
Commons, 444 Castro Street, Suite 900, Mountain View, California, 94041, USA.
The views, opinions, and statements expressed in the Wyrd Con Companion Book are solely those of the
contributors and not necessarily those of Wyrd Con, its affiliates, or the editors.
Join the discussion about The Wyrd Con Companion Book on Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/groups/390244477724076/
WyrdCon 4: September 12-15, 2013 in the City of Orange, California: http://wyrdcon.com/
4
Table of Contents
Aaron Vanek
Introduction................................................ 6
Ethan Gilsdorf
A Lament for
Gaming’s Lost Days ................................. 7
Gord Sellar
Thinking Big: RPGs, Teaching in Korea,
and the Subversive Idea of Agency ..... 9
Eddo Stern
Warcrack for the Hordes:
Why Warcraft
Pwns the World .......................................15
John Tynes
Prismatic Play:
Games as Windows
on the Real World ...................................19
Maria Alexander
The Greatest Story
Ever Interacted With ............................. 27
J Li
Gaming the Players:
Four meditations on the physics
of building games out of humans ....... 37
John Kim
Revisiting the Threefold Model .......... 41
Jason Morningstar
Good Play for Game Designers ......... 45
Emily Care Boss
Skin Deep ................................................. 49
Epidiah Ravachol
Five Fates of Fiction.................................51
In the Beginning: Treasure Trap .............. 55
An Interview with Ford Ivey
about Larp Design ................................. 57
Nat Budin
Over Time: Intercon
and the evolution of theatre-style
larp in the Northeast......................... 63
REVISED EDITION
Journal section editing by Aaron Vanek
Academic section editing by Sarah Lynne Bowman, Ph.D.
Layout and design by Kirsten Hageleit
Published by Wyrd Con under Creative Commons License December 21, 2012
Cover: Insurgent NPCs at Fort Irwin's National Training Center
Photo by Aaron Vanek, art design by Kirsten Hageleit
Font: The Battle Continuez
Lizzie Stark
Mad About the Techniques:
Stealing Nordic Methods for
Larp Design ............................................ 69
Sarah Lynne Bowman
Introduction to the
Academic Section .................................. 88
Aaron Vanek
Inside The Box, the United States
Army’s Taxpayer Funded Larp ........... 77
Whitney “Strix” Beltrán
Yearning for the Hero Within:
Live Action Role-Playing as Engagement
with Mythical Archetypes .................... 91
Evan Torner
Futurity and Larp.................................... 81
Rafael Bienia
Why Do They Larp?
Motivations for Larping
in Germany ............................................. 99
Nathan Hook
A Social Psychology Study
of Immersion Among
Live Action Role-players ................... 106
Yaraslau I. Kot
Educational Larp:
Topics for Consideration ................... 118
Neal McDonald &
Alan Kreizenbeck
Larp in an Interdisciplinary
University Course................................ 128
6
The Wyrd Con Companion Book
W
yrd Con is an Interactive Storytelling
Convention located in the United States.
Interactive Storytelling is the concept
where the audience and actors are both
part of the performance. Participatory events are
run throughout the conference to encourage both
exploration and immersive play, including but not
limited to Live Action Role Playing (larp), Alternate
Reality Games (ARG), Live Simulations and other
innovative Transmedia experiences. The conference
provides a fun opportunity to engage in all aspects of
the cross-platform storytelling within and beyond the
live role-playing realm.
Wyrd Con strives to not only entertain, but also
educate others in Interactive Storytelling. This
knowledge can be applied to both professional
development and daily life in a variety of ways;
through socially immersive gaming, we can evolve our
understanding of different social roles and entertain
ourselves while gaining confidence to grow as a leader.
We learn much from participation and the observation
of immersive play that enhances the development of
our own interactive story worlds.
Much of our panel and educational programming
provides presentations and discussions on how
different social scenarios and storytelling environments
have multiple psychological effects on the participants,
giving insight on how to expand a storyline to other
media and market these concepts to generate new
opportunities. Education is central to us and allows
attendees the ability to better understand, build, and
convey their story in the most interactive way possible.
If you have ever had a desire to build a complex
story worlds that involve extensions into live
participatory gaming environments, solve a mystery,
fight the enemy, or experience an event that mixes
theater, costuming, and dialogue about the changing
face of the entertainment industry, Wyrd Con is the
place to be. Fans and producers of Anime, History,
Science Fiction, Fantasy, and other genres are all a part
of the Wyrd Con experience.
All are welcome to attend.
Our Mission
At Wyrd Con our mission is two fold:
1) To increase exposure to multiple forms of Live
Interactive Storytelling by providing entertaining and
immersive events.
2) To create an educational experience that fosters
dialogue between Live Interactive Storytelling and
other forms of media entertainment, providing an
opportunity for participants and creative producers of
live games and cross-media properties to learn from
one another.
This two-fold objective of providing entertainment
and education ensures that we focus on a variety of
experiences that vary from year to year, as well as
ensures an unbiased perspective on the evolving forms
of live interactive theater and transmedia entertainment
that exist our world.
As such, we become talent coordinators and agents,
growing the game players into designers, and the
designers into creative content producers.
We are invested in the success of every attendee – the
players, the designers and those in the entertainment
industry, providing them a playspace and a cutting
edge learning experience.
Introduction
T
he content you have before you would not
exist if not for the following: Ira for indulging
us, Sarah for being my co-pilot, Kirsten for
confining her overworked rage to mere
swearing, all the Knutepunkt books (past, present, and
future), the Nordic Larp book, Amber Eagar’s editing of
the first two Wyrd Con books, and all the contributors
for putting their writing shoulder to the plow without pay
(and only the occasional lash).
The essays in the non-academic section are roughly
ordered and grouped as follows:
•
•
•
•
•
•
Personal reflection on the power of role-playing
games
RPGs in the real world
Design and play advice, tips, and approaches
History of larp
Documentation of larps
The future of interactive storytelling
There is a theme to this third Wyrd Con academic
book, which is “Eulogies During an Accouchement,”
or laments for the deceased while something is being
born in the same room. The idea was to look at what
has gone before, what is here now, and what is coming
on the horizon. I think we conjured a quite stalwart and
perspicacious vision into all three temporal zones.
I believe that interactive storytelling, larp,
transmedia and role-playing games are in a golden era
of creativity, a renaissance akin to the 1960’s in music.
These streams of artistic culture are closely parallel.
With some bridge spans and digging in the mud that
separates them, we can create a delta of amazing works.
This book, I hope, will serve as a shovel, and that it gets
well worn.
While editing, I noticed connections in nearly
every essay: John Tynes references Emily Care Boss’s
Breaking the Ice, Evan Torner references John Tynes’s
Unknown Armies, Emily references Lizzie Stark’s run
of Mad About the Boy, and so on. It is striking to me that
we interactors operate in the same ballpark, dealing
with the same playbook: agency, meaning, psyche,
archetypes, story, and how everyone is going to be fed
for the weekend. Interactive story is such a vigorous,
thrilling medium full of so many uniquely creatives that
I think we only need to poke our heads out of left field
to see amazing work occurring in the next city, county,
state, or even country. Work we can use and re-tool.
Thus I encourage you to discuss and distribute this
Companion, which can also keep you company until
September 19-22, 2013, the dates of Wyrd Con 4.
Lay on!
Aaron Vanek
December 20, 2012
Notes on the revised edition of the WCCB
With the help of the authors, the editors have made a
number of minor corrections to the text, nipping and
tucking it into close-up-worthy beauty. We have also
added additional functionality with a link to the Table
of Contents at the end of each article. Finally, the essay
about Treasure Trap was requested at the outset of
this project, but missed the first deadline. We proudly
include it now, as a vital part of the historical record of
larp. This second edition is the definitive version of the
Wyrd Con Companion Book.
We hope.
Aaron Vanek
January 25, 2013
8
CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: A dungeon map played
by the author and his gaming group back in the 1980s; One
of the author’s world maps, from a time in the 1980s when, as
a teenager, he was the DM of his gaming group; A sampling
of D&D gear from the author’s personal collection: TSR rule
books, modules and dice, from the 1970s and 1980s.
A Lament for Gaming’s Lost Days
by Ethan Gilsdorf
I
played Dungeons & Dragons back in what my
nostalgia-tinged mind likes to call the “Golden
Age.” Or perhaps it’s better described as the Sepia
Age. Or the Aqua Graph Paper age.
Whatever the moniker, those early gaming
experiences, from the late 1970s through the mid-1980s,
represent for me not only the gauzy memories of glory
days—memories of Monty Haul dungeons, trap-riddled
chambers, battles against frost giants and someone
(was it Eric or Bill’s character?) jumping on the back
of a vicious purple worm mid-battle, as we all laughed
our asses off at the ridiculousness of it all. There was
something else happening during all those hours logged
in imaginary realms. Those regular Friday night game
sessions were as much about the vicarious derring-do
we all immersed ourselves in as it was about the goofy,
testosterone- and Mountain Dew-fueled banter we let fly
around the dining room table. People gather in groups,
primarily for social interaction. D&D gave us proto-nerds
a place and a reason to gather.
But even the social aspects of my role-playing
game (RPG) heyday now pale in comparison to another
key benefit: a private, self-made entertainment space
we’d carved out for ourselves. We had entertained
ourselves.
We didn’t need video games (although we also
played them). We didn’t require movies or TV (although
this was the emerging days of cable TV and the MTV
generations, and we watched our share of Billy Idol
and Iron Maiden videos). What I mean is: For five or six
hours every Friday, and for the many additional hours
one of us spent dreaming up the maps and monsters
the rest of the players would encounter, we were
immune to the temptations of distraction and superficial
pleasures. We were able to conjure a space, jointly and
improvisationally, that rivaled the power of anything the
entertainment-media-Internet complex could throw at
us. Our immersion was total.
To remind you: I played D&D in an era before
email, before smart phones, before iPads and before
the Internet. Subcultures such as mine— those who
played RPGs—were left to thrive or die on their own
wits. I could not reach out to other gamers unless I
had seen a paper flyer hanging up in our local hobby
shop. I could not Google “Tolkien fan club” or “comic
book convention” or “miniature war game message
board.” As far as I was concerned, TSR Hobbies Inc., the
company that made D&D (and AD&D, and other spinoff RPGs we played, such as Gamma World and Boot
Hill) might as well have existed in Middle-earth as Lake
Geneva, Wisconsin. Both worlds were equally as distant,
foreign, and inaccessible to me.
At home, our venues for continual and episodic
escape and immersion were limited. Sure, I was a Star
Wars and Raiders of the Lost Ark fan, but if I wanted
to see either film again, I had to wait for it to be rebroadcast on TV, or, once the 1980s hit, I could rent the
VHS tape. But there was no YouTube, no Final Cut Pro,
no mashups, no electronic toys to spin that thick web of
fandom interconnectedness we all know and love today.
I devoured video games like Centipede and Galaga and
Robotron: 2084, but that activity happened at the arcade,
and each adventure cost a quarter. We had the chunky,
clunky worlds of Intellivision and Atari, but those pixelscapes were a far cry from the rich tapestry the PS3 or
Xbox 360 now offers.
Now, I know what you’re thinking (or, I think I
know what you’re thinking). Ethan, you’re an old fogie.
Ethan, you’re a luddite. Ethan, stop complaining. I’m
not complaining. These changes to technology and the
way we entertain ourselves are inevitable, and mostly
welcome. But as we move forward, it’s important to
understand whence we came, and what has been lost.
“In those days”—it’s almost painful to say it. But in
those days, we had stumbled around in the adolescent
dark to find this tool, this device, this marvelous medium
of the RPG to entertain ourselves. All D&D and its ilk
required—and still requires, should you choose to play
the game in its most stripped-down, low-tech form—is
a few pencils, a handful of funny-shaped, polyhedral
dice, blank paper, some rule books, and the appropriate
expenditure of attention, time and imagination. Today,
who has time to plan a game? It’s easier to pop into the
plug-and-play worlds of Mass Effect, Halo or Portal.
Yet D&D is powerful. We were connecting ourselves
to one of humankind’s greatest inventions: the story.
We told stories, we wove tales, we posed riddles in the
dark. The stories that issued from our minds and mouths
and collective hive consciousnesses linked us back to
the campfire, the cave, the saga, the ballad, the bard.
These stories were original, and (sadly) ephemeral.
They lived and live (if they still live at all) only in our
craggy memories. And those D&D narratives were not
extensions of some larger, corporate-run universe.
But since those days, in the intervening decades, the
culture of storytelling has been largely dominated by
corporations who want to sell us franchises, sequels and
transmedia narratives spread across multiple platforms:
video games, novels, TV shows, movies, apps, YouTube
channels. Again, don’t get me wrong: I love Peter
recollect my role-playing mojo. Never tried it? Roleplaying and storytelling is easy. We all do it everyday,
we just don’t know it. Job interviews, first dates and
Facebook posts are easy examples of role-playing in the
great RPG of life. “How was your day, dear?” you are
asked, and suddenly, you find yourself spinning a yarn.
No one is recording or selling these stories. But you are
making them up just the same.
Teaching role-playing skills is easy. The next time
you are telling your kid a bedtime story, stop and ask,
“OK but what happens next?” I tried this recently with my
10-year-old nephew. At first he was confused. “What do
you mean? You tell me, Uncle E.” But I wouldn’t budge.
“You’re in the tunnel under the rose bush, and there
are three passageways in front of you. Which do you
choose?” Soon enough, my nephew understood, and
we quickly found ourselves deep in the give-and-take
realms of role-playing, ours alone to see and feel and
inhabit, and experience as real.
Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy (and will surely fall for
his trio of Hobbit films, too). They are masterful at what
they do: creating a fully-immersive visual and emotional
experience. I cry every time Boromir gets skewered by
the evil Uruk-hai.
But who or what will teach our children to entertain
themselves? To understand that the story, not the special
effects and painstaking rendering, is what truly matters?
The humble role-playing game as well as larp (and you
might add fanfic to this list as well) are activities daring
to instruct people how to be storytellers again. How to
entertain themselves, rather than be entertained; how
to create and participate in story rather than simply
consume story.
This is a space worth preserving.
So, yes, I give you this lament for the old ways, as
I also offer a warning against the rising, global storymaking industry. But I also express a guarded hope
that RPGs will survive in small pockets and niches,
preserving these important storytelling skills for future
generations. Think of the struggle of poetry —how
the poem wages a continual and probably losing war
against the misuse of language. No one reads poetry,
it is said (and oft-lamented), but people do write and
sometimes cherish it, and the act of spending time
with poetry cleanses the language from abuses by
marketing and politics.
As a 46-year-old, after a long absence from the
game, I now play D&D again. It took me a while to
Ethan Gilsdorf is a journalist, memoirist, critic,
poet, teacher and geek. Over his working life, he’s been
employed as a dump truck driver, a movie projectionist, an
A/V nerd, a bookseller and a landfill manager. He is the
author of the award-winning travel memoir investigation
Fantasy Freaks and Gaming Geeks: An Epic Quest for
Reality Among Role Players, Online Gamers, and Other
Dwellers of Imaginary Realms. Based in Somerville,
Massachusetts, he publishes travel, arts, and pop culture
stories, essays and reviews regularly in the New York
Times, Boston Globe, Salon.com, wired.com and Christian
Science Monitor, and has published hundreds of articles
in dozens of other magazines, newspapers, websites and
guidebooks worldwide, including BoingBoing, CNN.com,
Playboy, National Geographic Traveler, Psychology
Today, San Francisco Chronicle, USA Today, Washington
Post and Fodor’s travel guides. He is a book and film critic
for the Boston Globe, former bicycling culture columnist
for the Boston Globe, and is the film columnist for Art New
England. He is a core contributor to the blog “GeekDad” at
wired.com and his blog “Geek Pride” is seen regularly on
PsychologyToday.com. He also writes for blogs at Boston.
com’s Globetrotting; Tor.com; ForcesofGeek.com, and
TheOneRing.net.
Read more and contact Ethan at www.ethangilsdorf.com or
Twitter @ethanfreak.
10
The author inflicting
the Cthulhu Mythos on
students
Photo: Jihyun Park
Thinking Big: RPGs, Teaching in Korea,
and the Subversive Idea of Agency
by Gord Sellar
S
tanding in the front of the room, I scowl at my
students and say, “I hope you committed your
crimes better than you planned them, suckers.
Who’s first? I wanna hear everything.” They
giggle nervously as I eye each group until one young
woman, named Kyunghee, cautiously raises her hand.
Her group gapes at her in alarm for a moment, until
I clear my throat loudly and growl, “What?” with a
ridiculously exaggerated hand gesture, and they
suddenly realize it’s not Gord, their Canadian professor,
but Mr. S, their gangster boss, who is running the show...
and to not comply means trouble.
I swear I’m not a Korean crime lord. My students are not
gangpae—that is, Korean gangsters—but rather middle
class kids, most of them with workable English ability
and a sense of being frustrated, stalled in their progress
with the language. While I teach many subjects—a little
literature, some cultural studies, a bit of creative writing,
and more—on some level I am fundamentally here to help
my students improve their spoken and written English...
and yet, the homework for my class this week was to
prepare a rundown of how the capers they planned out
and pitched to the class last week “went down.”
Today’s lesson would probably disturb the parents
who paid their tuition; it would perhaps raise eyebrows
among my Korean colleagues; it is not the “normal” way
of teaching English in Korea.
Which is precisely why it’s a good thing.
W
hen I think of Ursula K. Le Guin’s comment in one of
her essays about the patriarchal distrust of fantasy
in America1, my mind boggles: You think it’s rough over
there? I address her in my mind, You should see things
over here! While Korea’s neighbors to the East and the
West—Japan and China—abound with supernatural
folklore, magical creatures, and weird mythology, the
most popular Korean folktales today are generally more
prosaic: talking animals are the predominant presence
of the supernatural. It wasn’t always that way: just two
dynasties back, the monarch was claimed to have
emerged from a golden egg that descended from the
sky. But the dynasty that followed—the Joseon Dynasty—
was aggressively Confucian, and its local brand of that
philosophy was particularly hostile to supernatural
1. “Why Are Americans Afraid of Dragons?” The Language
of the Night: Essays on Fantasy and Science Fiction. (New York:
Putnam, 1979.)
aspects of Buddhism, Taoism, and shamanism that had
previously existed throughout the land.
The cultural politics of centuries past matters. In
Korea, not only does nonfiction outsell fiction by a
vast margin (especially self-help and finance-related
books), but genre fiction like SF and fantasy are read by
surprisingly tiny numbers of people. Speculative fiction
actually has such a bad reputation among Koreans that, as
a translator friend of mine commented, plenty of South
Koreans who saw Avatar and loved it dismissed the idea
that it was SF on the grounds that no SF film could be
that enjoyable. Since fantasy/SF novels and movies are
often a major gateway into the ecosystem of geek culture,
including both other fantasy/SF media and also tabletop
RPG gaming, the latter hobby is vanishingly rare here.
In fact, most Koreans seem to assume “RPG” has always
referred to MMORPGs like World of Warcraft. While a fair
number of my students have heard of D&D at some point,
I’ve only met a couple of Koreans in the past decade who
have actually played it.
Well, knowingly. The fact is that most of my students
have unwittingly played RPGs in my classes. Usually
they conceive of the games as language exercises, and
I let them think that: after all, as soon as the word “game”
enters into the discussion, students (and their tuition
fee-paying parents) tend to become critical of such
methodologies. Their wariness is understandable, of
course. A lot of what passes for English teaching in Korea
consists of white college graduates with no experience
teaching (or even learning) foreign languages, playing
hangman or word bingo with children or (more
embarrassingly) with adults.
Games, the logic follows, are escapist. Little do they
realize the importance and value of that aspect of the
hobby, or how direly necessary it is in establishing a
functional English-teaching class.
W
hen I first took up gaming, escape was absolutely
one of its attractions. It’s no coincidence that
my interest in fantasy narratives and RPGs followed
a relatively upsetting dislocation from an idyllic
Nova Scotia town to a much rougher, more troubled
community in Northern Saskatchewan, where I spent
much of my early childhood. My pursuit of RPGs
undoubtedly had something to do with the difficulties of
being uprooted, transplanted to a violent, hostile place,
and the struggle to make sense of the world, to figure
out who I was in this new, dangerous place, largely
without help from the baffled adults around me.
Fantasy fiction came first—starting with Tolkien’s
The Hobbit, naturally—but gaming soon followed, when
I reached that “golden age” of everything, twelve years
old. When I started gaming, I would never have believed
that I would choose to take a hiatus from the hobby—let
alone the long hiatuses I’ve since taken. D&D gave way
to AD&D, but after a break during high school (I’d moved
to a new city, had few gamer friends, and was busy with
other things), that gave way in university to White Wolf’s
World of Darkness games—especially Wraith: The Oblivion,
which for me was the most powerful and moving of the
RPGs I’d ever run. But once I left my hometown in 1998
to attend graduate school in Montreal, gaming slipped
out of my life... or rather, I slipped away from the hobby,
I suppose. Not completely—never completely, not even
though my massive collection of books got lost in the mail,
not even though I have nobody to play with—but there
was no rolling of dice, no late-night pizza orders, no GM
prep duties through all the years since... until this year.
I still had gamer friends online, of course. None
of the people I’d played with in the past, but I have
a few friends online who are active gamers, most
prominently an Austin gamer named Adam Lipscomb
who occasionally sent me gaming-related stuff he figured
I’d like: a G.U.R.P.S. Hellboy supplement, an Illuminati
card game, and some Car Wars thing. I bought game
books occasionally, when I happened upon them during
travels overseas (or in used bookstores in Korea), just
to thumb through them, see what was current in game
design and immerse myself in cool game-applicable
metaplots. I’ve always kept my dice nearby, the worndown ones I got with my red D&D Basic boxed set, among
the many others I picked up later. I suppose I kept them
around because one never knows when one might need
to make a saving throw, or toss 5d10 onto the table and
see whether one can dodge a Garou attack. I suppose I’d
always hoped to come back to gaming eventually, and I
talked about it from time to time, even.
But it wasn’t until a month ago (November 2012) that
I actually participated in a real-life gaming session. It’s
a bit stunning, really: fourteen years without gaming!
Sure, I’ve been busy: grad school, work, moving to South
Korea, playing in an indie rock band over here, working
as an editor and amateur screenwriter, helping launch an
independent film production company, composing music
(in the form of soundtracks, so far), and busting into SF as
a professional writer by getting short stories published
in many of the major magazines in that field.2 But as I
list these accomplishments off, I feel like I’m justifying
having not done any gaming for so long, because my
RPGing hobby, well, it’s been absent....
Sort of. At the same time, it’s been there all along,
though I’ve just realized it lately.
T
o explain how and why that’s the case, you need to
know a little about what it’s like to teach English in
Asia. Specifically, in South Korea.
Like most non-military foreigners in that country, I
work in the field of education. I’ve been teaching at a
university for the last six years, mostly subjects like
Creative Writing, Understanding Anglophone Culture
Through Film, or Public Speaking and Argumentation.
TEFL classes—Teaching English as a Foreign Language,
coaching students on improving their ability at speaking
in English and comprehending others’ spoken English—
make up a small minority of the courses I teach today, but
for my first five years here, they were almost all I taught.
And here’s a funny little secret about TEFL: you’re
basically trying to get people to become competent at
communicating in a foreign language. The thing about
communication is that one masters a language only when
one has the motivation to do so. Steven Pinker is right that
people learn to talk because our brains are wired for us to
learn to talk and to soak up language like a sponge,3 but it’s
impossible to separate that from the fact that our brains are
2. One thing I’ve discovered is that among speculative fiction
authors, a vast number of us actually have a past in RPGing. Not
just China Miéville, and not just Charles Stross, either: plenty of us
have some kind of background with tabletop RPGs.
3. This is the fundamental premise of his book The Language
Instinct (New York: Morrow, 1994)
also wired to make us hungry, thirsty, afraid, horny, and
so on. Little wonder that expats in Korea so often speak
“Survival Korean”: they can order water and beer and the
most common foods, ask directions to the bathroom, tell
cabbies where they need to be dropped off... and some of
them even memorize pick-up lines to talk to Koreans of the
opposite sex. Expats’ motivation to learn Korean is intrinsic,
because the alternative is to go hungry and thirsty, empty
their bladders in the street, walk everywhere, and go
celibate for their entire stay in-country.
A funny thing about learning Korean: it’s also a crash
course in role-playing, in many ways. You can’t simply
act like yourself in Korea: the cultural differences are
simply too profound and except with people who are
effectively bicultural. You’re going to unwittingly offend
a lot of people if you don’t quickly develop a number of
personae and consciously deploy them in contextuallyappropriate situations. The cultural codes for politeness,
for male-female interaction, for playing the role of teacher
(especially teacher as understood in a Korean cultural
context), and so on have always felt weirdly reminiscent
of what I’ve imagined larping would be like.4
Anyway, this intrinsic motivation expats feel to
learn Korean is not mirrored by their students. On the
contrary, most Korean students living in Korea have no
such need to learn English: their immediate needs are
met perfectly well using their mother tongue. Korean
students’ apparent motivation for language learning
is extrinsic: they need to get good scores on tests,
because test performance is the fundamental bedrock
of Korean life. Kids are tested in elementary school
to figure out which middle school they should go to.
Middle schoolers are tested to figure out what high
school they should attend. High school kids spend
their senior year studying for the Korean equivalent
of the SAT exams, which will determine which
university they’ll be able to get admitted to. And while
studying for class often stops at that point for most
students, there’s always the TOEIC exam, a business
English test that most companies expect applicants
to have taken. (The test scores are used to filter
applicants even for jobs that involve no English ability
whatsoever, such as managing a convenience store or
teaching mathematics in a cram school!) If you want
to become a teacher or work as a civil servant, there’s
even a standardized national exam for that.
4. Bear in mind, I’ve never actually larped; however, part of
the reason I say this is because Koreans, given the nature
of their culture, are also constantly switching personae in a
very conscious way that seems, at first, quite alien to most
Westerners. This is likely true in all societies that consider
themselves “conservative”: the behavior of Victorian
Londoners could perhaps be quite interestingly considered in
as a form of extended, bizarre larping as well.
The traditional approach to TEFL in Korea is to take
the students and put them in a classroom with a native
English speaker for a certain number of hours per week.
The theory is that exposure to a native speaker will force
students to use English, and more exposure is supposed
to translate to more language acquisition. But the problem
is that, even in the rare instance when the teacher is
qualified, the fundamental question of motivation is
unaddressed. After all, for a classroom full of Koreans
studying English, only a minority are intrinsically
motivated. In many classes only two or three students at
most, and sometimes none, actually want to master the
language. After more than a decade—and sometimes
several decades—of study, they struggle even with
simple sentences such as “Do you have any brothers or
sisters?” (“How many families?” is the usual attempt.)
This is where RPGs can help. Kindness,
encouragement, and friendliness can only do so much
to overcome this problem, because, frankly, when
Korean EFL students (English as a Foreign Language)
enter the classroom, they are bound by the realities of
the situation, both the real ones (grades) and the illusory
ones: being in a classroom, with “friends,” with whom
they will be “learning English,” because they “need to
do so.” Simply put, not one of these assertions is true.
Anyone who knows Jean Baudrillard’s concept of the
simulacrum5 can see why I’ve put the phrases above in
scare quotes: in natural, first-language acquisition, one
learns a language from one’s immediate community—
one’s friends, family, and yes, enemies, antagonists, and
strangers—to communicate about shared concerns
or interests, or about interpersonal issues, in authentic
or “natural” spaces—in shops, in the street, in the
schoolyard and at home. The resultant difference
between the language learned out of need—”Where
is the bathroom?” or “What’s your phone number,
beautiful?”—and what students learn from EFL textbooks
is stunning. This is why, after a mere month or two
in Korea, almost every foreigner can produce some
comprehensible variation of, “Hwajangshil eodiyaeyo?”
(“Where is the bathroom?”) whereas more than a decade
of English most often produces “How many families?” or
some equally incomprehensible variation on the theme.
Looking back on my own teaching over the last
eleven years, it seems clear to me that the successes
my students have achieved—the successes I’ve helped
make possible as a teacher—have always involved
5. Baudrillard argues that a simulacrum is like a simulation, except
that what it “simulates” does not actually exist in reality. Through
the process of this pseudo-simulation, it attains the status of truth
in itself, or “hyperreality.” (One example of many he provides
is Disneyland.) For more, see Jean Baudrillard’s Simulacra and
Simulation, translated by Sheila Faria Glaser. (University of
Michigan Press: Ann Arbor, 1994.)
RPGs that put agency
at the forefront—
emphasizing
motivation, action,
and personal
decision-making—
suddenly seem
outright subversive
pushing students to abandon these constraints. RPGs
aren’t the only way to break free of these constraints, of
course: semester-long group projects like comic book
creation or scripting and shooting a film work well
too. But RPGs are the most affordable, flexible, and
interesting approach to breaking through the simulacra
that have come to define and constrain standard TEFL
practice. Students resist at first, often because the
language they use in playing an RPG isn’t necessarily
what they will use in real life (even when you can adjust
things so it includes very useful grammar drills); but
usually, they come around... precisely because the
gaming disconnects from their daily life.
Such a disconnect is useful. It’s especially useful in
Korea, where students tend to be shy, risk-averse, and
timid. Part of that is cultural, and the rest is an artifact of
their education system. Games, though, are essentially
motivation engines. As gamers, we all know this: when
you sit down at the gaming table with friends, very
rapidly you find motivations bubbling up from inside
you: suddenly, you want your character to survive an
encounter with Hastur the Unspeakable, help take
down the red dragon that’s hassling a nearby village, or
outsmart the local vampire primogen. Succeeding at
these tasks won’t solve your problems at work, or patch
up an ailing marriage, or make your health problems go
away, but somehow the motivation is real anyway, and
it is shockingly intrinsic. When they experience this, it
effectively shakes up my students’ relationships with
classwork, with one another, with the classroom setting,
and with the object of their study... the English language.
Looking back now, I realize that I’ve been using a
simplified form of RPGing ever since I started working
in TEFL. Getting students to role-play aliens planning an
12
invasion of their earth—introducing their made-up alien
species, negotiating how to divide up the Earth among
them (and explaining their decisions), collaborating
in development of strategies for invading: that’s pure
role-playing, though neither I nor my students realized
it when we did that. Getting students to plan out and
pitch heist scenarios to the class; having them role-play
a gender switch to talk about the benefits and pains of
being a member of the opposite sex (and then having
the male and female students compare notes, while still
role-playing the opposite sex)... yes, now I can see that
TEFL for me has often involved RPGing on some level.
Then that friend of mine, Adam, mentioned Jason
Morningstar’s Fiasco to me. He mentioned Wil Wheaton’s
Tabletop videoblog episode featuring the game. As I
checked it out, I realized that the exercise I’d constructed
for my student years before—the bank heist scenario—
could be so much more. Morningstar had laid it all out. I
ordered a copy for the school, my mind still buzzing with
possibilities. In fact, my class had already gotten together
and made up their “character” personas (nicknames like
“Black Velvet” and “Bad Boy” and “Cutie”), planned out
their heists, and prepared PowerPoint presentations to
pitch the heists to the class; I was to play their “gangster
boss” and I’d implied that the stakes were high for this
pitching session. But after plowing through the rules of
Fiasco, I realized that there was no way that system could
be introduced as it is laid out in the book.
So I did what teachers have always done: I stole
conceptual bits of Fiasco, hacked them apart where
needed, and glued them together with other stuff. I
gave the students a dice game to play, involving points
and betrayals and negotiations. Then I gave them
story prompts—slips of paper with phrases like “an
untied shoelace” and “a slippery floor” and had them
construct narratives to describe how each character
met his or her dreadful fate, something like the
epilogue round in Fiasco.
And that is why I walked into the classroom, one
morning last month, and talked to my students in the
voice of a slightly insane gangster boss.
P
aradoxically, my own return to playing RPGs was
not a game of Fiasco, but something much more
basic: Dread.
All right, to tell the truth, my return to playing was
actually through a couple of card games: Apples to
Apples, for one, and the Creative Commons-released
Cards Against Humanity. But after playing a few
rounds of those games, I started to feel a hankering
for something a little more interesting, which, for me,
means RPGs. I’d been thinking about how I could
maybe bring RPGs more to the fore in my teaching. A
game mechanic that relied on pulling blocks from
a Jenga stack—a tower of wooden blocks originally
14
marketed as a game back in my childhood—sounded
perfect. Having students pull a block from the stack to
determine the success or failure of a given action would
do away with dice, tables, and other aspects of roleplaying that entail a learning curve. The one problem
was that Dread requires a GM. Teaching situations
usually involve students split up into multiple groups, so
unless I could train a small group of students as GMs,
Dread seemed an unlikely candidate for the classroom.
Still, the game concept had me hooked, and I had
an unused set of Jenga blocks on hand, so I contacted
some friends—a writer, his fantasy-reading girlfriend,
a brewer, and my fiancée—and arranged for a game
session. The result was fascinating for a number of
reasons. For one thing, I learned a lot about how
delicate scenario design can be: the particular choices
players made in selecting character sheets resulted
in an unbalanced group, one off-color implication too
many turned the game into horror-comedy, and pacing
was kind of an issue. And yet we had wonderful fun
playing, my guinea pigs immediately asking about our
next game session.
The most surprising thing for me was how my
return to gaming affected the way I think about writing.
RPGs have gotten a lot more sophisticated in terms
of storytelling: I remember when White Wolf games
seemed radical for emphasizing story, but they look as
dice-based as D&D now. For another thing, as a writer I
struggled for a long time with character motivation, and
sometimes I still do. (That writer friend who joined us
in for a round of Dread has a habit of asking everyone,
after reading a manuscript, “So what does this character
want?”) For me, designing a scenario for Dread taught
me several things, but most prominently that motivation
can work differently in different genres and different
stories. In horror, traditional motivations (like those that
form the backbone of a game like Fiasco) take a backseat
to motivations generated by whatever it is that makes the
story a horror story: people want to survive a monster’s
attack, survive the dangerous place, escape, make it ‘til
sunrise, whatever. That’s why the Jenga pull is such a
brilliant dynamic: characters want to act, and need to
act, but finally their prime motivation is to manage to do
so while also fulfilling their most fundamental motivation
of survival. (At least till the moment for a dramatic selfsacrifice comes.) Having learned how motivation really
seems to work in horror, I realize why someone like me,
who’d started out in horror fiction, struggled so long
to get a real handle on how motivation works in other
genres, and it reminds me that other models of character
motivation remain possible in all genres.
After recently designing a few scenarios/setups
for different systems—especially Fiasco, but also for
Dread—I feel like I have a newly deepened sense
of how character motivation works. I’m not the only
one: a “mainstream” writer I know marveled as I
described the process of Fiasco playset design, and was
excited to check out the rulebook. He’s talking about
doing scenario design purely as a kind of “etude” for
character and story-setup practice. Personally, I’ve
been experimenting to see just how far I can push the
limits of the game’s design, while making it work for the
people I know. And since the people I know includes
Koreans and expats alike, there’s another layer to that:
making the games work for a mixed group with different
cultural backgrounds, differing expectations of how
games and narratives work, and so on. How can one
design a Fiasco scenario for a mixed group whose pop
cultural lexicons and assumptions about narrative are so
radically disparate?6 What about a game like Montsegur
1244—which deals with the persecution of an obscure
heretical religious group in a medieval Europe, a topic
and a setting orders of magnitude more unfamiliar to
Koreans than to modern Westerners? How could a game
like that best be adapted for a Korean audience? These
are interesting challenges in these kinds of complex acts
of translation and transplantation. Enlivening challenges.
And while gaming is extremely marginal in Korea,
I’m really curious to see how the results of answering
such questions might be received here.
I
n a Korean TEFL context, there is no doubt in my mind
that gaming can help learning: I’ve seen it happen
before my very eyes.
I could go on theoretically about how it demonstrates
the possibility of developing strategic competencies
or how it can serve as a non-standard form of
comprehensible input, perhaps best supplemented
by an extensive reading program and so on, but the
simple fact is that RPGs shatter all those simulacra
that are central to TEFL: the class-as-community, the
textbook-as-language-source, the choreographedclassroom-interaction-as-real-language-act, and the
self-as-TEFL-student, as well as the biggest inhibitor of
all, the grade-as-pseudo-motivator. And while it does
set up a different set of simulacra, relying on students
to imagine people and places that are not real, and
actions and goals that have no relation to reality, it
refocuses their attention on the one thing that really
should be the point of TEFL courses: using language
to turn their motivations into results. Mastering the
language becomes a secondary motivation, reassigned
to its proper place as a medium for the fulfillment of
more immediate and primary needs or wants.
There’s another effect that I believe more
widespread use of RPGs in language education could
have in Korea, and that’s to help fend off the effects
6. My current, incomplete attempt to find an answer to that
question (regarding Fiasco) is explored in this series of posts.
of the education system in general. Many Koreans
have told me that their experience of schooling was
essentially to have the creativity drained from them
throughout middle and high school. Role-playing, on
the other hand, forces players to imagine situations,
characters, and settings that they have not themselves
known or experienced previously, fulfilling a function
that has long been used to justify the teaching of
literature in the West, but which arguably Korean
literature courses don’t.7 Young Koreans are often
commenting that their school lives involved little
exercise, and that physical education programs need
to be improved, but they rarely recognize the lack of
exercise that Korean childrens’ imaginations get—a
perilous oversight.
Finally, there’s a third area where I believe RPGing
can help young Koreans, and indeed, it’s linked to
what I myself have recently relearned from designing
scenarios for Fiasco: it’s an effective reacquaintance
with motivation. One of the big problems translating
Korean literature into English is that Korean narratives
operate along lines rather alien to us in the Englishspeaking world. For us, characters are fundamentally
composed of motivations, which may come into conflict
with external factors, with the motivations of others,
with duties or obligations, with the limits of characters’
abilities, and so on. Tension in Western fiction arises
from the conflict between motivation and something else.
But Korean narratives often don’t work this way: Korean
characters often seem, for a Western reader, lacking in
agency or self-directed motivation. Korean characters
appear to be, at their core, composed of obligations
and restrictions, primarily to bear various forms of
oppression and sadness. If you can imagine what it’s like
to live in a world where so-called “helicopter parents”
are the normative mainstream, where parental input
is forced onto most people not only in the question of
what to major in as an undergrad but also whom to date
or marry, whether or not to take or quit a job, where to
live, and where it’s not unusual to be told to change one’s
haircut, lose weight, or get plastic surgery by family
members, coworkers, or even complete strangers, then
you can imagine life as a South Korean. Little wonder
that self-directed agency has almost no place in Korean
fiction, except as a conspicuous absence.
But in a context like that, RPGs that put agency at
the forefront—emphasizing motivation, action, and
personal decision-making—suddenly seem outright
subversive. While there was no substance to the lamebrained evangelical-Christian TV talk show accusation
7. The interpretation of literature in a Korean classroom context
tends to involve translation of literature, or the regurgitation of
interpretations prescribed by a teacher or professor: the moon
is a metaphor for one thing only, of the instructor’s designation.
that role-playing games would turn kids into psychotic
Satan-worshipping murderers, I can’t help but
optimistically imagine that the younger generation in
Korea is absolutely ripe for an infectious outbreak of that
dangerous meme known as agency, and a rash of selfmotivated assertiveness. The best way to get that in the
front door, of course, would be to market it as something
that can improve kids’ English, and it could be designed
to do that as well, but... well, the best teaching methods
change the student, sometimes profoundly.
T
he best teaching methods also change the teacher,
too. Me, I’m on the verge of taking a hiatus from
teaching (and from Korea) for at least half a year, maybe
more. I have a lot of big plans: write a novel, draft a
feature film script or two, make at least one film, get back
into shape, read like there’s no tomorrow.
Gaming is part of that plan too, now. If gaming is
my native land, then I’m planning to stay for a good
long time. I ordered myself some dice—which, would
you believe, are so much cheaper in the States than in
Korea that I could afford dice bags and shipping and still
come out ahead for the number of dice I got? Now I have
to use them. I’ve got a session of Fiasco set up for next
weekend, and another one sometime soon after that;
I’m contemplating running a session of Montsegur 1244
and maybe even an extended series of sessions (a few
weekends in a row, maybe) during my winter holidays:
maybe we’ll play Don’t Rest Your Head or some hacked
version of Dread (perhaps with color-coded cards to be
pulled prior to drawing from the Jenga stack to facilitate
multi-session gameplay with the same characters). When
we leave Korea, I’ll probably throw a little more time into
experimenting with game design, and try to mix in some
gaming online via Google Plus. For me, this time around,
things seem to be converging: storytelling, role-playing,
fiction- and screenplay-writing, game design, literature...
they all seem to connect now, in an interesting way.
I’m excited to see where it leads me.
Gord Sellar is a Canadian SF writer, musician,
a member of the Brutal Rice Productions film group
(brutalrice.com), and has lived in South Korea since late
2001, working as a professor there since 2003. He attended
the Clarion West Workshop in Seattle in 2006, was a
finalist for the John W. Campbell Award for Best New
Writer in 2009, and his writing has been published in many
English-language SF, fantasy, and horror magazines. If you
would like to download his Fiasco-inspired “caper” lesson
plan for TEFL teachers, you can find it on his website, at
the following address:
http://www.gordsellar.com/2012/12/09/lesson-planthe-caper/
16
Warcrack for the Hordes: Why Warcraft Pwns the World
Catalog essay for the exhibition WOW: Emergent Media Phenomenon at the Laguna Art Museum, June 14—October 4, 2009
by Eddo Stern
“F
irst there are the utopias. Utopias are sites
with no real place. They are sites that have
a general relation of direct or inverted
analogy with the real space of Society. They
present society itself in a perfected form, or else society
turned upside down, but in any case these utopias are
fundamentally unreal spaces. There are also, probably
in every culture, in every civilization, real places—places
that do exist and that are formed in the very founding of
society—which are something like counter-sites, a kind
of effectively enacted utopia in which the real sites, all
the other real sites that can be found within the culture,
are simultaneously represented, contested, and inverted.
Places of this kind are outside of all places, even though
it may be possible to indicate their location in reality.
Because these places are absolutely different from all the
sites that they reflect and speak about, I shall call them, by
way of contrast to utopias, heterotopias.” 1
Image from World of Warcraft, Blizzard Entertainment
Image from World of Warcraft, Blizzard Entertainment
Fantasy themed, text-based, Multi-User Dungeons
(MUDs) have been around since the late 1970s, but
in 1997, the addition of real-time graphics and the
mainstreaming of the internet allowed Ultima Online
to become the first major commercial success of the
Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game
(MMORPG, MMOG, MMO) genre. World of Warcraft,
1. Michel Foucault, “Of Other Spaces (1967), Heterotopias”,
http://www.foucault.info/documents/heteroTopia/foucault.
heteroTopia.en.html
released in November 2004, was preceded by a litany
of 3-D sword and sorcery MMOs dating back to 1996,
including Meridian 59, Everquest, Asheron’s Call,
Shadowbane, Dark Age of Camelot, Phantasy Star
Online, Final Fantasy XI, Asheron’s Call II, Ragnarok
Online, and Everquest II . More recently a series of big
budget online fantasy games have been released to
great fanfare, including Vanguard, Hellgate London,
Age of Conan, and most recently Warhammer Online.
But, none of these “post WoW” games has been able
to hit the mainstream nerve the way WoW has with its 11
million-plus player base and pop cultural prominence.
The common wisdom you will often hear about WoW’s
massive appeal is that Blizzard simply just “got it right.”
“A fundamentally well designed and executed game
at the base level. WoW just feels right when you play
it, something that we didn’t really have in the MMOG
genre prior.” 2 Or, “Why is it so popular? It’s easy. That’s
about as simple as it gets.”3
Truedat… but, is there something more about World
of Warcraft that has made it the best selling MMO ever
and allowed it to redefine the position of online roleplaying games in the cultural landscape, from what was
previously a gamer geek subculture to a mainstream
cultural phenomenon? Maybe.
World of Warcraft is a Heterotopia. The term was
coined by Michael Foucault in his 1967 lecture titled
“Of Other Spaces,” and fits World of Warcraft like a
Furious Gladiator’s Mooncloth Glove. Foucault writes:
“The heterotopia is capable of juxtaposing in a single
real place several spaces, several sites that are in
themselves incompatible.”4 WoW allows for a multitude
of permutations and paradoxical combinations in its
gameplay and narrative structures that do exactly this to
manifest it as a unique game in its genre.
2. http://hgamer.blogspot.com/2007/09/why-is-world-ofwarcraft-so-popular.html
3. Ibid.
4. Foucault.
Image from www.westozwarlords.com
Image
from www.westozwarlords.com
The most significant change that WoW brought
to the fantasy MMO genre was the Alliance/Horde
player faction division. Warring factions are not new to
MMOs. Neither is the division of the world into “good”
and “evil” races. Yet what WoW has done with its
faction-centered dichotomy is fundamentally different.
Playing the Alliance faction “races” in WoW—Humans,
Elves, Dwarves, and their friends—affords the player
not only an identification with the heroic archetypes
belonging to the traditional high fantasy genre, but
an advertent alignment as a stereotypical member of
the fantasy role-playing game community, what some
might call a “classic geek gamer.” By introducing
the Horde as a gang of playable races that includes
the thuggish Orcs, the Rastafarian Trolls, and the
cannibalistic Forsaken, WoW has transformed the
familiar offering of “evil” into something much more
radical—the Horde are the “other.”
Earlier MMOs such as Everquest offered a small
selection of playable “evil” races such as Dark Elves
or Trolls. Choosing these races allowed players
to play against the common “heroic” grain, but as
Everquest was a collaborative game, players of these
races routinely blended in and teamed up with the
good races, nullifying any non-cosmetic difference
between the races.
WoW’s Horde, who cannot communicate with the
Alliance, exist on the periphery of the fantasy world’s
diegesis. Their inclusion as active agents feels alien
to the genre. WOW offers players an opportunity to
participate in the fantasy of World of Warcraft without
buying into its narrative core. Horde play as interlopers,
outsiders who are here to crash the party, who
seemingly play the same game but do so in a subversive
and ironic way. The Horde defines the unique culture
of World of Warcraft while simultaneously occupying
its counterculture. By allowing players the choice of
experiencing the game sincerely as members of the
Alliance or ironically as the Horde, WoW lets us have
our cake and eat it too.
In his often-cited 1996 essay “Hearts, Clubs,
Diamonds, Spades: Players Who Suit MUDs,” Richard
Bartle presents a taxonomy of player motivations
in multiuser games. Bartle divides players into the
following categories: Achievers, who “regard points
gathering and rising in levels as their main goal,”
Explorers, who “delight in having the game expose its
internal machinations to them,” Socialisers, who “are
interested in people, and what they have to say,” and
Killers, who “get their kicks from imposing themselves
on others.”5 In general, MMO designers have been wise
to try to accommodate all four player archetypes and
their various permutations.
At first, as was the case with Ultima Online, game
designers tried to create a “realistic” simulation of
society—allowing for the coexistence of players who
wish to kill other players for fun with players who had no
such motivations. The experiment proved to be too big
a challenge, as killers ruined the experience of nonkillers and Ultima Online became a utopia for killers and
a dystopia for the rest of the population. The eventual
solution, introduced in Everquest and epitomized in
World of Warcraft, is to divide the player population
into separate versions of the game played on different
servers: Player vs. Player servers for the Killers and
Player vs. Environment servers for the rest. By offering
a selection of parallel game worlds identical in all ways
except for their social rules of engagement tailored
to accommodate opposing world views, WoW offers
players the choice between one utopia and another.
Most gamers who strongly identify with the more
aggressive and competitive First Person Shooter (FPS)
and Real Time Strategy (RTS) genres—hardcore
Counterstrike or Starcraft players—avoid and stigmatize
the congenial fantasy Role Playing Game (RPG) genre.
5. Richard Bartle, “Hearts, clubs, diamonds, spades:
Players who suit muds”, 1986, http://www.mud.co.uk/richard/
hcds.htm
18
World of Warcraft is
World of Warcraft provides an opening for such players
through the kind of counterplay offered by Player vs.
Player servers and by identifying with the Horde and
keeps them playing by offering game experiences that
mimic the FPS and RTS genres’ core game mechanics.
WoW is structured as a multi-genre game—a game
that contains within its framework a diverse variety of
game experiences. Players looking for standard RPG
experiences—such as detailed game-lore, a narrative
back story, monster slaying, dungeon crawling,
character development, and loot collecting—may
spend their time completing quests on their own, or
with real-life friends or family, random strangers, longterm in-game acquaintances, or fellow guild members.
Players can scratch their RTS and FPS itches by
engaging in strategically complex Player vs. Player
group battles, both in staged arenas or in open-ended
planned encounters. Ranked Arena PVP seasons offer
an even more acutely competitive context for the same
sorts of gameplay dynamics offered by RTS and FPS
tournaments. This wide range of gameplay experiences
allows WoW to function more like a closed circuit
television network with its own selection of internal
channels to choose from.
Image from www.bannanashoulders.com
Image from www.bannanashoulders.com
Tom Shippey, in his writing on J.R.R Tolkien’s work,
points to the variety of main characters in The Lord
of the Rings as a key contributing factor to the book’s
unprecedented mass appeal. For his analysis, Shippey
uses Northrop Frye’s framework of literary modes.
In summary, Frye’s model divides narrative into five
hierarchical categories with myth at the top, followed
by romance, high mimesis (tragedy or epic narratives),
low mimesis (the classical novel), and finally, irony.
Shippey identifies The Lord of The Rings as belonging
perhaps the first
online role-playing
game to truly function
in tune with the
internet generation
to all five categories at once. He maps the main
characters from the book as follows: Samwise as irony,
Frodo and the other hobbits as low mimesis, humans
as high mimesis, the Elves and Dwarves as figures of
romance, and finally Gandalf, Bombadil, and Sauron
as belonging to the realm of myth. He also points to the
way Tolkien navigates these modes: “The flexibility
with which Tolkien moves between the modes is a
major cause for the success of The Lord of the Rings.
It is at once ambitious (much more so than novels are
allowed to be) and insidious (getting under the guard
of the modern reader, trained to reject, or to ironize, the
assumptions of tragedy or epic).”6
A similar process is at work in World of Warcraft.
Looking again at the choices of race that players can
choose from in WoW, and considering that even within
the counter-cultural frame of the Horde there are modes
of engagement that develop beyond an initial irony in
relation to the high fantasy genre, I would categorize
the choices in the following way: Forsaken, Gnomes
and female Dwarves as irony, Taurens, Orcs, Draenai,
Dark Elves, Trolls, and Dwarves as low mimesis,
Humans, Elves, and Forsaken (again) as high mimesis
or romance. The specific placement of playable races
6. Tom Shippey, J.R.R. Tolkien, Author of the Century,
Princeton 2000, p 223
using this model is subjective to each player, but WoW
offers players a choice of how they prefer to identify
their relationship to the narrative experience of the
game world through the choice of character. The
stratification of WoW’s literary modes as a consequence
of character race is brought to the foreground when
players have more than one character they can play. The
race of the active character often mirrors the player’s
current mood.
Want to create an earnest alter ego? Likely you
will not choose a female dwarf for the task, but when
creating an alternative character used for casually chitchatting in town, picking a female dwarf character for
your roster does come in handy.
Even the more concrete design elements serve
WoW’s appeal to a wide range of players and player
emotions. The art styling is extremely bold, even
expressionistic, all the while hedging the ironic against
the sublime. The overall effect is uncanny. The blocky,
low polygon character models and colorful pixilated
textures are comically exaggerated. The animations
are smooth, yet childishly cartoonish or grotesque.
The outdoor environments are vividly colorized and
ever flowing. The game is littered with in-jokes and
pop cultural references to books, movies, celebrities,
games, and other real world paraphernalia. The
dialogue is overtly goofy and self-deprecating.
The sound effects are deft. The music goes hand in
hand with the environments to mesmerize the player,
the score is epic, and while the compositions may be
high fantasy clichés, they do not engage the player
cerebrally, the way the character models, animations,
and dialogue do. It is as if WoW’s world craft is
calibrated to swallow you up in its synthetic world and
just as you are on the brink of total immersion, it spits
you out. And then sucks you back in again.
World of Warcraft exists within a nexus of game
related contexts, sometimes referred to as the Metagame, the extra-diegetic game world, or simply the
WoW community. This context includes personal
fan sites and blogs, guild home pages, official and
nonofficial discussion forums, game databases, strategy
guides, encyclopedias, player ranking lists, sites that
offer game add-ons and modifications, portals of fanmade films, and game related news sites. The cultural
artifacts generated in the Meta-game: guides, tricks,
rants, treasure maps, walkthroughs, helper applications
as well as fan created stories, comics, and films are
openly fed back to the in-game experience. Nick Yee,
who uses polling and statistical analysis to examine
MMO player behavior, reports, “the average player
spends about 10.8 hours each week performing gamerelated tasks outside of the game... players spent on
average 23.4 hours each week in the game. Thus,
on average, the majority of players spend about an
additional 50% of their game-playing time outside of the
game performing game-related activities.”7
WoW is perhaps the first online role-playing game
to truly function in tune with the internet generation,
where a more hermetic idea of “fantasy” as a cordonedoff reality of hardcore role-playing has been consciously
replaced by a porous pseudo-fantasy game. The illusion
has been shattered long ago, bearded paladins are
swapping Chuck Norris jokes, Dark Elves are doing the
Napoleon Dynamite, and Undead Warlocks are talking
Pakistan in Orgrimmar, while everyone else is doing
their best Leeroy Jenkins impersonation. WoW coolly
embraces the Meta-game and paradoxically, by letting
its guard down and allowing bits of reality to slip in and
out of its fantasy world, has become the most compelling
and immersive game ever.
“In the mirror, I see myself there where I am not, in an
unreal, virtual space that opens up behind the surface; I
am over there, there where I am not, a sort of shadow that
gives my own visibility to myself, that enables me to see
myself there where I am absent: such is the utopia of the
mirror. But it is also a heterotopia in so far as the mirror
does exist in reality, where it exerts a sort of counteraction
on the position that I occupy.”8
Eddo Stern works on the disputed borderlands
between fantasy and reality, exploring the uneasy and
otherwise unconscious connections between physical
existence and electronic simulation. At the UCLA
Design | Media Arts Department he teaches courses on
game design and culture; computer game development;
and physical computing in an art context.
7. Nick Yee, “Time Spent in the Meta-Game,” from “The
Daedalus Project,” http://www.nickyee.com/daedalus/
archives/001535.php
8. Foucault.
20
Prismatic Play: Games as Windows on the Real World
From Second Person: Role-Playing and Story in Games and Playable Media, MIT Press, 2007 - reprinted with author permission
by John Scott Tynes
E
lves and orcs, spaceships and robots: any
survey of well-known works of interactive
storytelling reveals most are set in worlds
very different from the one we live in, worlds
of visionary futurism or fantastical imagination. The
imagery communicates the subject matter’s dislocation
from the real world. Likewise, they in no way attempt to
address modern life or any themes other than, say, good
vs. evil or underdog vs. oppressor. They exist in a void
of meaning where recreation is king and the only goal
is entertainment. This inevitably consigns such works
to a metagenre: escapism. Escapism is a departure from
the real world, an opportunity for an audience to let go
of everyday anxieties in favor of an unreal experience.
Escapism has its place. The human mind is a busy beast
and flights of fancy are a welcome reprieve. Alien and
inventive genre worlds are tremendously popular, as
witness the Final Fantasy and Myst video games.
But while escapism has its joys, it also carries
with it a connotation of irrelevancy. The trailblazing
likes of Dungeons & Dragons or Doom may have been
enjoyed by millions of people, but few assigned
them even the feathery cultural weight of children’s
cartoons such as Shrek. Such escapist entertainment is
commonly considered meaningless, or at best serves
as a vehicle for bland homilies. Every medium whose
signature works are escapist becomes perceived as
irrelevant, immature, and meaningless. The prose
novel, for example, reached a mass audience with
the proliferation of the printing press, but educated
aristocrats did not deign to read them; their modern
descendants would likewise not consider playing the
video game Grand Theft Auto. It took more than two
hundred years for the novel to be taken as seriously
as, say, classical religious painting or poetry. Movies
made a similar journey in just forty years, and rock
music went from “Rock Around the Clock” to Sgt.
Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band in about twenty. In
all such cases, it was the combined work of innovative
practitioners and influential critics that elevated each
medium into the cultural mainstream.
Yet three decades into its life, interactive storytelling
remains in an immature state. Video games and tabletop
roleplaying games are seen as childish wastes of time.
The demographics of the audience and the experiences
they demand are very diverse, but this reality has
not penetrated the mainstream consciousness. The
controversies over Grand Theft Auto illuminate this
disconnect: games made for adults, and only for adults,
are perceived as a menace to children because the
cultural authorities do not understand who the audience
has become.
For interactive storytelling to mature into a form
that earns the same critical respect and mainstream
acceptance as novels, movies, or rock and roll, it is
vital for this form’s content to evolve beyond escapism.
I believe the next step in its development is already at
hand but unrecognized and underutilized.
This step is the development of engagist works
that embrace the modern world around us instead
of rejecting it for a fantastic otherworld. An engagist
work is one that uses the modern world or the recent
historical past as its setting and that provides tools
and opportunities for participants to explore and
experiment in that setting in ways that real life
prohibits or discourages. It may still have genre
conventions such as ghosts, monsters, or mad science,
but it uses them deliberately and symbolically within a
familiar real-life context.
The differences between escapism and engagism are
profound. They are fundamentally driven by the intent of
the creator and richly manifested in the experience of the
audience. But the simplest difference of them all is that
escapism is a state and engagism is a tool.
As a state, escapism offers no change, no
enlightenment, no redemption. It is a prisoner of form,
a sitcom-game that puts its pieces in the same starting
positions with every episode.
As a tool, engagism is an agent of change, capable of
leading journeys through enlightenment, redemption, or
any other genuine human experience. It uses form and
transcends it, a restless exploration of life.
The tabletop game Dungeons & Dragons is
the archetype of escapist interactive storytelling.
Participants adopt personas in a fantasy world and
enjoy rollicking adventures through a hodge-podge
of myth and imagination. As published, the game is a
vehicle for heroic storytelling and an engine for fictional
accomplishment, as the personas “level up” to become
more powerful in ways that have no relationship to the
participants’ own lives. They may take satisfaction from
the experience, but any meaning they derive from it is
only what they brought with them.
Power Kill by John Tynes is the deliberate antithesis.
This engagist metagame posits that Dungeons & Dragons
participants are living out their fantasies through real-
world psychotic episodes in which they practice robbery
and home invasion against ethnic and economic
minorities—a violent incursion to a black ghetto is, to
the participants, just another “dungeon crawl” in which
orcs and their money are soon parted. They are asked
to reconcile the differences between their Dungeons &
Dragons character sheet of statistics and treasures with
their Power Kill character sheet, a patient record from a
mental ward for the dangerously insane. Once they are
prepared to accept the latter and reject the former, they
are released from the hospital and the metagame. Power
Kill is intended as a Swiftian satire, an engagist attempt
to take the escapism of Dungeons & Dragons and explore
its connections to the real world of human behavior.
Admittedly this is an extreme illustration of the
differences between escapism and engagism, as
Power Kill is a didactic attempt to measure the distance
between these two metagenres by placing itself and
Dungeons & Dragons at opposite ends of a span. In
more common practice engagism can entertain just
as well as escapism. But engagism has three primary
practical and conceptual advantages that provide sharp
distinctions and make it a useful tool. These advantages
are narrative, educational, and revelatory.
The Narrative Advantage
Participants in engagist media are intimately familiar with
the modern world. Cultural, religious, linguistic, political,
and technological concepts are already understood and
available for use. This familiarity solves simple problems,
such as explaining to the participant how personas travel
from one town to another, and allows for much freer
use of irony, symbology, metaphor, and other literary
conventions that depend on cultural comprehension. It’s
hard to make a pun in the Black Speech of Mordor.
Imagine an interactive story based on Tolkien’s
The Lord of the Rings books. The participants take the
roles of hobbits traveling on a grand adventure. In a
distant land they encounter a group of strange people.
Do they speak the same language? What language do
hobbits speak, anyway? For that matter, what about this
traveling thing: how far can a hobbit walk on foot in a
day? How much sleep do hobbits need? Does a human
need to eat more Lembas bread than a hobbit or is it
a magical food that can sustain anyone with an equal
amount of consumption?
These are pedestrian questions—literally, in some
cases—but they illustrate the fundamental lack of
familiarity that participants will have with a fantastical
setting. In some works, these questions may be
irrelevant. If travel in the work is abstracted, so that
participants merely arrive in one interesting scenario
after another with all intervening time bypassed, then
the land speed of a hobbit is irrelevant. But take a
further step back: what the heck is a hobbit? What is an
orc? For a novice audience, there are a lot of questions
to answer before the story can be fully understood. The
opening exposition utilized in the film version of The
Fellowship of the Ring, for example, offered a potted
history of Sauron and the ring of power but did not try
to explain the many fantasy concepts contained in the
book. For audiences unaccustomed to the fantasy genre,
it was not at all intuitive that dwarves live underground
or that they have an ancient rivalry with elves.
The tabletop roleplaying game setting known as
Tékumel is an excellent example of this challenge.
M.A.R. Barker, a former professor of linguistics and
South Asian studies at the University of Minnesota, has
been developing this fantasy world for three decades.
Tékumel first saw print in his 1975 game Empire of the
Petal Throne and has since appeared in several different
game incarnations and many volumes of supplementary
material, as well as novels. Tékumel exceeds even
Tolkien’s Middle-Earth for obsessive documentation
by its author, with Barker issuing treatises covering
languages, histories of particular military units, guides
to the various religions, and even the tactical use of
magic on the field of battle. This summary from the
game’s web site illuminates its complexity:
Tékumel is a world of tradition, elaborate
bureaucracies and heavily codified social structures
and customs. They have mighty, well-organized legions
like those of the Romans. Their gods are like those of the
Hindus, with a heavy dose of the bloodthirsty Aztec or
Mayan deities. Their legal codes and sciences are much
like those of the Arab philosophers of the Middle Ages;
they are obsessed with personal and family honor much
like the medieval Japanese. The societies presented
with the game are very intricate and very old, with
histories, traditions, and myths stretching back some
twenty-five thousand years. (Gifford 1999)
In short, this is no Shrek. Participants in Tékumel
stories must overcome a substantial barrier to entry, as
the game mandates a high degree of cultural literacy
22
for a culture that does not even exist and that has been
documented in only piecemeal form across dozens of
small-press publications—many of them out of print—
for longer than many players have been alive. When
the site’s Frequently Asked Questions includes entries
such as “What is Mitlanyál and where can I get it?” one
wonders that anyone other than Professor Barker can
even play the game. Its adherents are devoted but few,
as the work’s scattershot publishing history can attest.
At the opposite end of the comprehensibility scale
lies Millennium’s End. Created by Charles Ryan, this
tabletop roleplaying game took the technothriller
novels of Tom Clancy as its inspiration and posited a
modern setting of terrorists, espionage, covert military
actions, private security forces, and international
intrigue. While first published a decade before the 9/11
attacks, Millennium’s End has remained timely and even
prescient, as concepts such as “collateral damage,”
“covert operations,” and “low-intensity conflict” are
now household terminology instead of baroque jargon.
In Millennium’s End, participants take the roles
of private security contractors employed by a firm
resembling the real-life African mercenary corporation
Executive Outcomes. Story topics include corporate
espionage, counterterrorism, kidnap resolution,
executive security, and other hot-button concepts
involving professionals with guns working in realworld danger zones. It’s the sort of game where a
storyline can be readily improvised just by reading the
newspapers.
Participants in the game already have the required
cultural literacy. They have reasonable shared
expectations for how well cell phones work in rural
areas, how many bodies you can shove into the trunk of
a car, and how to get a plane ticket to a foreign country.
If a story is set in wartime Iraq, participants have at
least some notion of how that setting looks and feels,
courtesy of cable news networks or movies such as
Three Kings.
The barrier to entry for Millennium’s End is low, at
least in terms of required comprehension. The need
for supplemental material is lessened, as well; no
participants are demanding a sourcebook on the
American criminal justice system or the restorative
qualities of milkshakes.
Millennium’s End, therefore, enjoys a substantial
narrative advantage over the Tékumel games. It is
more accessible, simpler to play, and easier to create
new stories. Similar tabletop roleplaying games include
some of the most popular: Vampire: The Masquerade,
Spycraft, Mutants and Masterminds, and Call of Cthulhu
all layer genre conventions on top of the familiar
modern world and have much larger audiences than
the alien and otherworldly Tékumel.
Such real-world games are not simply more
accessible. They also reward familiarity with the
modern world and improve that familiarity—which
brings us to the second advantage enjoyed by engagist
interactive storytelling, the educational advantage.
The Educational Advantage
Participants in engagist media acquire knowledge of
the world around them. This is not the case in worlds
consisting of dungeons and spaceships and should
be considered an interesting alternative “loot drop”
to video game rewards such as magic swords and
superspeed. By engaging with the real world through
interactive storytelling, participants can travel to
foreign countries or local but unfamiliar subcultures.
They can experience historical or current events
firsthand and conclude the work more knowledgeable
than when they began.
A precursor to this form can be seen in the 1953
television series You Are There, in which recent and
distant historical events were reenacted by actors and
explained by journalists. I believe the first interactive
storytelling attempt at this educational approach
was the 1971 computer game Oregon Trail, in which
participants recreate nineteenth-century pioneer
caravans traveling from Missouri to the West Coast.
In both of these early examples, immersion is used to
facilitate education.
This informative visualization of the past has
manifested most recently in the form of Kuma\War,
which updates the mandate of You Are There and
demonstrates the ability this form has to richly present
knowledge in an engagist manner.
Kuma\War is a subscription service that regularly
delivers new computer game scenarios based on actual
military conflicts. Single-player and online multiplayer
play are supported in first-person or third-person
perspective, as well established by escapist action
games such as Unreal and Max Payne. Participants take
the roles of soldiers in conflict, fighting enemies and
achieving objectives. The scenarios released thus far
have almost entirely been set in Afghanistan and Iraq,
dramatizing the recent conflicts there, but historical
scenarios have included the Korean War and, most
surprisingly, U.S. Senator John Kerry’s Vietnam swiftboat action that earned him the Silver Star and became
a major point of controversy during his presidential
campaign.
With Kuma\War, participants can take the role of
John Kerry and command his swift boat in a scenario
recreated directly from the battlefield reports. Besides
presenting this playable game scenario, Kuma\War
offers written analysis of the battle and the controversy,
as well as a ten-minute video interview with a swift-boat
veteran and a game designer. Links to media coverage
and official commentary round out the presentation.
While most of Kuma\War’s offerings blur into an
endless sandy horizon full of gun-toting Jihadists, their
up-to-the-minute approach is intriguing. When a lone
Navy SEAL escaped from Asadabad, Afghanistan, in late
June of 2005, in a conflict that left nineteen other soldiers
dead, Kuma\War had a recreation on subscribers’ hard
drives within a month, complete with satellite images
of the area and extensive notes and references. This
attempt to publish on a journalistic schedule with
educational goals helps distinguish Kuma\War from
games such as the World War II titles Call of Duty and
Medal of Honor. Those are popular games of escapism,
offering no commentary, no historical context, and
no timeliness. They use historical events as a simple
backdrop to pure entertainment and do not educate
their audience. Kuma\War, by comparison, makes a
real attempt to expand the participants’ knowledge and
immerse them in an authentic experience.
An even more immediate example of this approach
appeared in Jonathan Turner’s tabletop-roleplaying
game scenario “When Angels Deserve to Die,” which
For interactive
storytelling to
mature into a form
that earns the same
critical respect and
mainstream acceptance
as novels, movies, or
rock and roll, it is vital
for this form’s content
to evolve beyond
escapism
he first ran at the Convulsion game convention in July
2002. Turner had recently returned from a three-month
stint in Kabul, Afghanistan, where he worked as a
press officer for the British-led International Security
Assistance Force. His scenario placed the participants
in the locale he had just left, and the intensity and
vividness of his depiction were remarkable. Turner
brought with him the latest unclassified maps of Kabul
and surrounding regions as published by the British
military, with current safety and risk zones marked,
as well as his rucksack, which supplied props for the
experience. He notes:
I wanted to get across to the players what it was like
to be in that place at that time. I wanted to do what
I always do, which is to make it more real for them.
My goals in providing them with genuine props such
as unclassified “mine maps,” old Russian medals
bought in a marketplace, all that stuff, was to let
them get their hands on something cool that gave
them a tangible connection to what their character
was experiencing, something that they as players
had never seen before, that they would remember
afterwards. This even came down to smell—I had
an Afghan shemagh [bandana] which still smelled
like Afghanistan. … I used to pass it around the
players and have them take a deep whiff of it. That
conjured up an image of the marketplace in a way no
photograph or map or verbal description ever could.
(Turner 2005)
Still wired from the experience, Turner powerfully
immersed the participants. We were there, on the
ground in Kabul, navigating our personas through a
treacherous setting of intrigue and risk. We attended
a Buzkashi game, the traditional game of Afghanistan
where riders on horseback struggle over the headless
carcass of a goat to score points. There we interacted
with U.S. intelligence operatives mingling in the crowd
and escaped a bomb scare, then journeyed on truly
treacherous roads into the countryside to negotiate
assistance from a regional warlord. All along, Turner
evoked the sights, sounds, and smells of occupied
Afghanistan and the mix of chaos and optimism that
followed the fall of the Taliban.
Genre elements were certainly present: the plot
concerned a horrific supernatural manifestation
that had to be defeated. For this, Turner drew on the
Cthulhu mythos created by 1930s pulp horror author
H.P. Lovecraft, as expressed in the roleplaying game
book Delta Green. Yet even this fictional construct was
subservient to the scenario’s educational goals, as
Turner notes:
The [Cthulhu] mythos is kind of the least of your
problems. You’re more likely to step on a mine or get
24
rolled and robbed or shot in a feud between people
in a market. Or more likely, die in a car accident.
I think most players find great novelty in that
approach, especially if I can put them coherently
and convincingly in a place that is real but still feels
alien and threatening to them. (Turner 2005)
The educational approach to interactive storytelling
seen in Kuma\War and in “Angels” engages the
participants in exciting new ways not seen in escapist
works. Watching television news reports from Kabul, I
could shake my head sadly at the misery and horror.
In Turner’s masterful game I lived it vividly, my pulse
racing, and in my mind I saw an Afghanistan I’d never
seen on television: the Afghanistan Turner knew. The
knowledge acquired in this engagist way can have a
lasting impact on the participants’ lives and thoughts; by
definition, escapism does not enjoy this advantage at all.
As interactive storytelling has evolved, its
sophistication has evolved as well. When we move
from explaining and illustrating the modern world
to interpreting and critiquing it, we realize the third
advantage of engagism: the revelatory advantage.
The Revelatory Advantage
Participants in engagist media can make choices that
are denied to them in the real world due to finances,
physical limits, laws, or personal reticence. They
can experiment by adopting personas different from
themselves, ones that they perhaps have coveted
or even feared in life. They can use the engagist
experience as a Skinner box, exploring not just
alternative behaviors but testing the consequences
both within the narrative and in themselves. Engagist
works can reveal insights and interpretations beyond
simple facts.
The roleplaying practiced in therapy is a narrow
example of this advantage. Patients are asked to act
out situations they find troubling or intimidating in real
life so they can learn to respond to them appropriately
and add those responses to their repertoire for the next
time they face such a situation. A patient who cowers
before anger may learn useful responses he can offer
the next time a family member loses her temper, and
the exercise of roleplaying turns an abstract lesson into
a (simulated) life experience.
Working with a broader canvas than that of therapy,
engagist works use the revelatory advantage to give
participants unusual experiences. These experiences
might be difficult to explore in the real world, such as
living the life of a politician or spy. They can even be
impossible, positing situations that defy reality. But
even with such genre elements they remain a tool for
participants to explore, learn, and grow.
The creators of Waco Resurrection characterize it as
a “subjective documentary.” Participants don a helmet
sculpted to resemble a polygonal model of the head of
Branch Davidian messiah David Koresh and then use
a mouse and keyboard as well as voice recognition to
control a Koresh video game persona during the 1993
showdown with the federal government. This Koresh is
imagined as a supernatural reincarnation with mystical
powers, as per one of his prophecies.
Each player enters the network as a Koresh and
must defend the Branch Davidian compound against
internal intrigue, skeptical civilians, rival Koresh
and the inexorable advance of government agents.
Ensnared in the custom “Koresh skin,” players are
bombarded with a soundstream of government
“psy-ops,” FBI negotiators, the voice of God, and the
persistent clamor of battle. Players voice messianic
texts drawn from the Book of Revelation, wield a
variety of weapons from the Mount Carmel cache, and
influence the behavior of both followers and opponents
by radiating a charismatic aura. (C-Level 2003)
The goal of Waco Resurrection is right on its face: to
put participants into the head of David Koresh and reveal
his vision of a messianic apocalypse. The nature of the
work is distinct from Kuma\War in that it transcends
educational accuracy by giving the Koresh persona
supernatural powers that serve as metaphoric tools to
explore an historical event. Fantasy is thereby yoked to
critique in the service of a larger truth: that the tragedy
at Waco was not simply an armed conflict but a nexus of
religious, social, and legal issues complicated by one
man’s insanity. This exploration of a truth larger than
simple facts is the hallmark of the revelatory advantage.
Breaking the Ice has an entirely different goal and
approach, yet it too embodies revelatory engagist
principles. This tabletop storytelling game depicts
the first three dates of two characters as a romanticcomedy plot. Two participants create the characters by
switching something about themselves, such as their
gender or their marital status, and then verbally play
out their first dates using a game system that introduces
conflicts, mishaps, and opportunities to grow closer.
There is no gamemaster, and it’s up to the participants
to create the experience they want.
The game is, of course, set in the modern world
and relies on comprehension of western dating
customs; setting it in a sci-fi future or a medieval fantasy
world would derail its goal. Breaking the Ice gives
participants an opportunity to explore the early stages
of romance without real-life consequences. It could
increase confidence for those nervous about dating,
spark ideas for actual dating activities, or prompt
discussion between the participants about their own
lives and romantic histories. While the tone is light and
entertaining, at every stage the game encourages the
participants to engage with reality, not escape from it.
The use of genre conventions as revelatory
metaphoric tools is a primary feature of Unknown Armies,
by Greg Stolze and John Tynes, a work that tries directly
to apply engagist principles. This tabletop roleplaying
game is set in a modern America of trailer parks and
shopping malls but weaves into it a supernatural milieu
known as the Occult Underground. Participants take the
roles of crackpots, visionaries, mystics, and schemers
in a clandestine struggle to acquire magical knowledge
and power in order to change the world in whatever way
best fits their personal beliefs.
We live in the real
world, and our lives are
full of real problems
and real joys. When
works of interactive
storytelling can
teach us how to solve
those problems and
discover those joys,
while entertaining
us just as novels,
movies, and music do,
these works become
worthy of real cultural
critique and join the
great conversation
of human thought
The setting of Unknown Armies posits that people
who embody cultural or mythic archetypes ascend
into a higher reality and serve as demigods, granting
magical powers to people who abide by the traits and
taboos of those archetypes. Their goal is a cosmic
endgame in which the final archetypes ascend
and jointly create the next reality, rebooting the
cosmos into the form unconsciously demanded by
the aggregate desires and behaviors of humanity. A
warlike cycle might produce more violent archetypes,
leading to an even more perilous incarnation of
reality—it is existence as if determined by a truly
representational government. The modern world we
know, therefore, is the product of human archetypes
from the previous version, and it is this world that the
game is concerned with.
These archetypes go well beyond the formative
ones of Jung and express modern ideas. Thus we have
the Demagogue, who can discern and alter the belief
systems of individuals or entire societies; the Flying
Woman, embodiment of unconstrained femininity and
freedom of choice in the post-feminist west; the MVP,
the star athlete whose power comes from the fervency
of his fans and who is supernaturally incapable of letting
down his team; and many more.
Participants can choose to “walk the path” of one
of these archetypes. They gain in power by faithfully
mimicking the archetype’s behavior and lose power
when they violate one of the archetype’s taboos. If they
gain enough power, they can eventually challenge
the ascended archetype and take its place, bringing
their own new interpretation of the archetype into
the cosmic realm. For example, the Messenger
archetype seeks to banish ignorance and spread true
knowledge. Its most powerful adherent in the setting is
a man who attempts to replace the archetype with his
interpretation, the Heisenberg Messenger: delivering
uncertainty and spin instead of truth, changing events
rather than reporting them.
Unknown Armies explores other forms of symbolic
magic as well. Adepts are people who gain magical
power by pursuing personal obsessions. They are
essentially schizophrenics who decide that they know
what really matters, and the force of their will bends
reality to conform to their delusion. Examples in the
game include the Boozehound, who uses the power trip
of alcohol consumption to fuel his destructive spells.
The Fleshworker is obsessed with body image and
body manipulation, moving from “cutting” behaviors
to actually reshaping her flesh and that of others
with supernatural force. The Vidiot turns watching
television into a ritual act, using its conventions to
manipulate daily life; for example, he can make
someone remain completely calm in a stressful life
situation by magically convincing the person that he’s
merely experiencing a rerun.
26
Conclusion
The game’s supernatural elements are pervasive,
but in every case they are based directly on modern
life and modern culture. Unknown Armies is a Swiss
army knife of metaphoric tools, allowing participants
to deeply immerse themselves in symbolic constructs
and explore archetypes and behaviors that exist in the
real world. Participants can heighten their awareness of
positive and negative traits in themselves, their friends
and family, and their society, and adopt a wide variety
of personas to experience these traits firsthand. This is
the heart of the engagist ideal: interactive storytelling
that is both entertaining and seriously thoughtprovoking.
Ongoing participants in the game frequently report
the real-life effect of these metaphoric tools. Online
discussions between participants often critique the
daily news cycle by viewing the people and events
through the lenses provided by the game. When
American tourist Natalie Holloway disappeared while
vacationing in Aruba during the summer of 2005,
obsessive and out-of-proportion media coverage of
her case generated substantial critique in the press.
Unknown Armies participants analyzed this coverage in
terms of the Messenger–Heisenberg Messenger rivalry,
and proposed that a new archetype was taking shape:
the Oppenheimer Messenger, in which reporting the
facts actually destroys the facts.
Maybe the first of this new breed was Geraldo Rivera,
who made up a story about being under fire, gave away
troop movements while live and on camera, and pledged
not to leave Afghanistan until Osama Bin Laden was dead,
dead, dead, and yet he enjoys a degree of credibility
that’s not inconsequential. (Toner 2005)
Because of its engagist philosophy, Unknown
Armies has worked itself into the mental toolsets of its
participants and given them new ways to examine and
critique the modern world. Any engagist work can do
the same—and should.
We live in the real world, and our lives are full of real
problems and real joys. When works of interactive
storytelling can teach us how to solve those problems
and discover those joys, while entertaining us just as
novels, movies, and music do, these works become
worthy of real cultural critique and join the great
conversation of human thought. Such engagist works
can utilize and expand our knowledge, immerse us in
real ideas and cultures, and provide tools to explore
behaviors and interpret events. Art, knowledge,
performance, and imagination intersect therein and
bestow profound gifts.
It has been thirty years since Colossal Cave
Adventure introduced early computer gamers to its
“twisty maze of little passages.” We’re still waiting for
our Sorrows of Young Werther, our Napoléon, our Sgt.
Pepper’s. Endless regurgitations of dwarves and elves
or action-packed recreations of Omaha Beach will not
get us there. But genre is not the enemy; it is simply a
tool we have clumsily wielded to middling effect. The
real missing ingredient is intent, the authorial intent to
create works that engage our world and lives. When
future participants delve into that twisty maze of little
passages and find themselves at its heart, we’ll know
we’re doing something right.
Citations
Works Mentioned
C-Level. (2003) Description of Waco: Resurrection.
http://waco.c-level.cc.
Breaking the Ice. Emily Care Boss; Black & Green Games. 2005.
Gifford, Peter. (1999) “New to Tékumel?”
http://www.tekumel.com.
Toner, Timothy. (2005). Email correspondence on the Unknown
Armies RPG Mailing List.
Turner, Jonathan. (2005). Email correspondence with the
author regarding “When Angels Deserve to Die”.
Colossal Cave Adventure. William Crowther, Don Woods;
DECUS. 1976.
Delta Green. Dennis Detwiller, Adam Scott Glancy, John Tynes;
Pagan Publishing. 1997.
Dungeons and Dragons. Gary Gygax, Dave Arneson; Tactical
Studies Rules. 1974.
Empire of the Petal Throne. M.A.R. Barker; Tactical Studies
Rules. 1975.
Kuma\War. Kuma Reality Games. 2004.
Max Payne. Remedy Entertainment. 2001.
Millennium’s End. Charles Ryan; Chameleon Eclectic
Entertainment, 1993.
Oregon Trail. Paul Dillenberger, Bill Heinemann, Don Rawitsch;
Carleton College. 1971.
Power Kill. John Tynes; Hogshead Publishing. 1999.
Unknown Armies. Greg Stolze, John Tynes; Atlas Games. 2002.
Unreal. Epic Games. 1998.
Waco Resurrection. Mark Allen, Peter Brinson, Brody Condon,
Jessica Hutchins, Eddo Stern, Michael Wilson; C-Level.
2003.
John Scott Tynes, also known as Rev, is a
game designer and writer in Seattle. He's currently the
Competition Manager for Microsoft's Imagine Cup global
student software competition. Previously he was Lead
Game Designer at Microsoft Studios Kids & Lifestyle
Entertainment creating original Kinect games for children
including Kinect Sesame Street TV. He founded Pagan
Publishing and Armitage House and has worked or written
for Bungie, Acclaim, Wizards of the Coast, Atlas Games,
Steve Jackson Games, Daedalus Games, Chaosium, Salon,
McSweeney's Online, The Stranger, The Escapist, Tablet,
and many other companies and publications.
28
The Greatest Story Ever Interacted With
by Maria Alexander
A
great story reaches into us and takes root
in our souls. It captures our devotion and
imagination, our conversation and company.
Those who are truly inspired by the tale
expend enormous energy meeting and communicating
with other people who have been similarly affected,
possibly wearing clothing or symbols that reflect their
affinity for that story. They read and re-read the story,
debating what the author meant at times, drawing
inferences and making interpretations. They might
go so far as to create stories that extend the plot line,
often incorporating themselves into these new stories
so that the story lives on far beyond the first telling.
The characters are real to them in a personal way that
reaches into their everyday lives.
While it might sound like I’m talking about fans of
Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Twilight, I’m
actually describing the behavior of those who practice
Western religions, most notably Christianity, which
is our greatest and most vibrant example of narrative
interaction today. That’s because when human beings
are deeply affected by a story—whether it’s of faith
or fiction—they interact with that story in similar
ways, especially when it deals with themes of death,
resurrection and a Magical Savior.
The Magical Savior
The Magical Savior is a strong motif in modern
franchises where fan behavior most resembles the
narrative interaction of Christians—in particular, the
Harry Potter and Twilight novels and the Buffy the
Vampire Slayer and Doctor Who television shows.1 We’ll
first look at the motif and then see how it’s replicated in
those franchises.
Many people are already familiar with the New
Testament storyline, but for those less familiar, I’ll
summarize it here. A child is born in Bethlehem
under auspicious circumstances. At 30 years of age
1. I am omitting two major franchises that fall into this
category—Star Wars and Star Trek—due to both space
constraints and because they bridge the gap between the
pre-Twitter and Twitter eras. I am focusing on narratives
whose popularity surged in the latter era as that seems to be
more directly connected to Jenkins’ “participatory culture”
definition, which I will explain momentarily. This includes the
new Doctor Who series.
Narrative Interaction:
Filling in the Gaps
he embarks on a three-year ministry to the Jews
in Jerusalem where he gathers disciples, performs
miracles, admonishes temple leaders and talks about
the true nature of God—love, forgiveness and sacrifice.
Many decide that Jesus is the Messiah foretold in the Old
Testament who has come to rescue the Jews from their
persecution and fulfill the Law. Jesus eventually upsets
the status quo so badly when he claims to be the Son of
God that he’s arrested for blasphemy after betrayed to
authorizes by his friend Judas. He is sentenced to death.
In the climactic ending, Jesus is mocked for being The
King of the Jews as he’s forced to drag his own cross
through the streets after being severely beaten by
Roman soldiers. His supporters scatter in terror as he’s
nailed to the cross to suffer a horrific death as God’s
sacrificial lamb, taking on the sins of all mankind that
they might be able to rejoin God again if they so believe
in Him. Three days later, he is resurrected and appears
to some of his followers.2
SPOILER ALERT: For those who are not familiar with
the details of the above-mentioned books and television
series—including Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s story, “The
Final Problem” and even Star Wars—this paper may
contain spoilers. Proceed at your own risk.
One of the most beloved characters in literary
history, Harry Potter is prepped through seven novels
to eventually face off with the evil Voldemort, who had
tried to kill him as a child but failed, killing Harry’s
parents instead. Harry’s remaining Muggle family
and the Slytherins bully him throughout the series.
He has a small band of friends, namely Hermione
and Ron, although that group grows with time to
include Dumbledore’s Army and its “Judas,” Marietta
Edgecombe. The final battle breaks out in the seventh
book. Meeting Voldemort head on, Harry voluntarily
goes to his death and the part of him that is Voldemort
dies. He briefly meets his dead mentor Albus
Dumbledore in the afterlife, and he’s then resurrected.
2. For the purposes of this paper, I am accepting the narrative
as set during the 4th Century in the Nicene Creed.
In Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy is known as “the
Narrative interaction entails the myriad ways in which
Chosen One” as she battles the forces of evil that
audiences contribute to and celebrate their favorite stories.
escape the Hellmouth and try to destroy the world. Her
Fan fiction—defined as the fiction produced by fans based
comrades comprise “the Scoobies;” for a time, her
on a popular novel, movie, TV show or other franchise—is
soulful vampire boyfriend, Angel; and her “Watcher,”
one of the best known forms of interacting with a narrative.
Giles, who abandons her in later seasons. She dies and is According to scholar Francesca Coppa, fan fiction
resurrected twice in the television series: once in the first “fill[s] the need of a mostly female audience for fictional
season, prompting the appearance of a second Slayer,
narratives that expand the boundary of the official source
and again at the end of the fifth season. Ultimately she
products offered on the television and movie screen.”4
saves humanity with the help of her friends, closing the
Transmedia storytelling pioneer Henry Jenkins says, “Fan
Hellmouth forever.
fiction can be seen as an unauthorized expansion of these
media franchises into new directions which reflect the
One of the most popular and longest admired
reader’s
desire to ‘fill in the gaps’ they have discovered
Magical Saviors in genre history is The Doctor in Doctor
in the commercially produced material.”
Who, a television series that first aired in the UK from
1963 to 1984, then reappeared from 1986 to 1989, to
Fan fiction is only one type of narrative interaction or
return once again in 2005 to the present. The Doctor is an what Jenkins calls “participatory culture.” He explains,
alien humanoid who, with the help of his Companion(s),
“patterns of media consumption have been profoundly
protects the human race against threats of annihilation.
altered by a succession of new media technologies
The Doctor’s Companions occasionally abandon him
which enable average citizens to participate in the
by choice or death. In the new series, he feels isolated
archiving, annotation, appropriation, transformation,
with or without Companions because he is the last living
and recirculation of media content. Participatory culture
Time Lord. Like Jesus, he upsets the status quo. (“I’m
refers to the new style of consumerism that emerges in
usually called ‘The Doctor,’ or ‘The Caretaker,’ or ‘Get
this environment.”
Off My Planet,’ though the last one isn’t so much a name,
But “participatory culture” didn’t begin with the
really...”)3 He has the unique ability to regenerate when
emergence of new technologies. Participation in
the narrative of Christianity—including annotation,
he dies, although he can die permanently if he receives
appropriation, transformation and recirculation—has
a second deathblow during the regeneration process. As
been ongoing for centuries. The practice of storytelling
of the end of Season 7, he’s been resurrected ten times in
to fill in the gaps predates Christianity itself.
bids to save humanity.
According to Stephen Prothero, a Boston University
Second only to Harry Potter in the amount of fan
religion scholar, midrash is storytelling in Judaism that
fiction devoted to its characters and story lines, the
fills in the gaps5 of the Bible. Other sources claim it
Twilight saga riffs on the Magical Savior motif with
Edward Cullen, a vampire who is over 100 years old.
resolves problems in the Hebrew text. Modern Christians
While initially reluctant to admit his love for the human
not only use midrash to illuminate messianic passages in
Bella Swan, he saves her life many times. Themes of
the Old Testament, but some scholars assert that all of the
death, resurrection and immortality echo throughout all
Gospels and Acts are midrash.6
four of the books in the series, which features vampirism
and lycanthropy. As Bella is dying during the violent
birth of their daughter, Edward turns her into a vampire
4. Bacon-Smith, Camille (2000). Science Fiction Culture.
to save her—effectively killing and resurrecting her in
University of Pennsylvania Press. pp. 112–113. ISBN
the same moment.
978-0-8122-1530-4.
5. “My Take: I don’t know if Jesus was married (and I don’t care),”
For thousands of years, the magical savior motif has
by
Stephen Prothero, Boston University religion scholar, CNN.
fueled the greatest stories of humanity. From Osiris and
com, September 21, 2012.
Dionysus to Tammuz and Mithras, the motif has traveled
6. “But in the end the result is a new perspective according to
over the millennia. It’s no wonder that the same themes
which we must view the gospels and Acts as analogous with
seep into the most powerful tales of our time.
3. The Doctor in “The Doctor, the Widow and the Wardrobe,”
December 25, 2011, Season 7.
the Book of Mormon, an inspiring pastiche of stories derived
creatively from previous scriptures by a means of literary
extrapolation.” New Testament Narrative as Old Testament
Midrash by Dr. Robert Price.
30
The only difference between midrash and fan
fiction is that, unlike Harry Potter and Twilight, an
enormous number of people deem the Biblical story
of the Magical Savior to be authentic. Because of
this distinction, it can be difficult to recognize that
Christians interact with their favorite narrative much the
same way people do who have been deeply affected by
other Magical Savior stories.
In the early centuries of Christianity, believers
focused on those gaps regarding the nature of Jesus
and his divinity (or lack thereof), as well as God and
the Holy Spirit. In order to make sense of the Gospels,
and therefore make sense of their own existence and
relationship to God, they analyzed and extended
the narrative until it fit their needs, using scripture
to bolster their conclusions. Unfortunately, the early
Church labeled some of the narrative expansions
heresy rather than midrash because the stories
included elements that didn’t meet the approval of the
unified Christian church as promulgated in AD 325 by
the First Council of Nicea.7
Invitation to Participate
Fan fiction is considered an unauthorized expansion
of the original franchise because authors rarely invite
their readers to contribute to the narrative. Similar to
interactive narrative designers, the “author” of the New
Testament invites readers to participate and expand the
original narrative—that is, within carefully established
limits.
The first invitation comes in Romans 10:9, which
states: “For if you confess with your lips that Jesus is
Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised Him
from the dead, you will be saved.” A typical conversion
prayer goes like this:
In Christianity, the very act of belief is participatory
and the numerous activities following conversion
contribute to one’s own narrative: baptism,
communion, confession and congregation. Millions of
people over the last two millennia have participated
in—that is, interacted with—the story of Jesus through
these behaviors. No new technology has ever been
necessary.
If it seems a little thin to think of belief as
participatory, consider that critically acclaimed
author Toni Morrison argues the very act of reading is
participatory: “I never describe characters very much.
My writing expects, demands participatory reading,
and that I think is what literature is supposed to do. It’s
not just about telling the story; it’s about involving the
reader. The reader supplies the emotions. The reader
supplies even some of the color, some of the sound. My
language has to have holes and spaces so the reader
can come into it.”9
These holes are not unlike the gaps that Coppa and
Jenkins describe, right down to the physical description
of Jesus, the lack of which has invited interpretation by
artists for centuries.
But the strongest invitation comes in The Great
Commission, which appears in Matthew 28:16-20:
“Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the
mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they
saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted.
Then Jesus came to them and said, ‘All authority in
heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore
go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in
the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy
Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have
commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to
the very end of the age.’” Believers actively engage
with the story and its characters, not just through
prayer and daily behaviors, but by recruiting others
for engagement.
Lord Jesus, I believe You died for me and that You
are alive and listening to me now. I repent of my sins
and ask Your forgiveness. From this moment on, I
decide to live for You and no longer for myself, to do
Your will and not mine. Make me the kind of person
You want me to be. Show me the way to the Father.
Now fill me with the Holy Spirit, Who will teach me
how to live for You and how to tell the world You are
my Savior and Lord. I love You, Father, Son and Holy
Spirit.8
7. This council focused primarily on the Arian heresy, as well
as the Nicene creed and the date Easter was to be celebrated.
8. © 2012 Presentation Ministries.
9. Conversations with Toni Morrison, by Toni Morrison, edited
by Danille Kathleen Taylor-Guthrie, University Press of
Mississippi, 1994.
Note that the Gospel verses comprise a direct
invitation to become part of the narrative, to insert
yourself into the story so that you’re interacting with
Jesus and acting on his behalf. When a new believer
accepts Jesus Christ as their personal savior, they
personalize the story. This is not unlike when fan fiction
authors draw readers into their narratives with the
“Y/N” convention. “Y/N” indicates that the reader is to
insert “your name” wherever it appears in the text. This
convention specifically enables the reader to become
one of the main characters of the story by inserting his
or her name in the narrative.10
11
Forms of Participation
The participatory behavior of today’s franchise fans
goes far beyond media midrash while still resembling
that of Christians. (And by extension Judaism, although
some behaviors are clearly proscribed.) Everything
from the symbols they wear to the way they congregate
helps them interact with the original narrative. It’s
important to note that the Gospels do not explicitly
command any specific behaviors beyond The Great
Commission except for Jesus’ commands to break bread
and share wine “in remembrance of (him)” during The
Last Supper, thus creating early Christian Eucharist
traditions.
Symbols
We see them almost every day: crucifixes atop
churches, fish on car bumpers, animated angels in
email messages. Symbols are extremely important
to most religions, and these in particular telegraph
profound concepts in Christianity.
In every story of the Magical Savior, a symbol
captures his or her death-defying powers. In
Christianity, that symbol is the crucifix, either empty or
depicting the suffering Christ. The cross is possibly the
most recognizable symbol of death and resurrection
in the world. Crucifixes not only adorn churches inside
and out as a reminder of the risen Christ, but they are
very commonly worn as jewelry, on clothing and as
tattoos.
10. This convention is currently more popular in fan fiction for
the band One Direction than anywhere else, but its origins are
in traditional fan fiction.
12
13
14
Another symbol is the ichthys—the fish used by
early Christians to identify one another. It may or may
not contain the Greek word within, which is an acronym
for “Jesus Christ, God’s Son, Savior.” The ichthys is most
commonly found these days on car bumpers.
15
11. http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2012/03/12/britain-fightschristians-right-to-wear-cross-infuriating-activists/commentpage-2/ (image captured 12/7/12).
12. http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/view-image.
php?image=3407&picture=church-cro (image captured
12/7/12)
13. http://rlv.zcache.com/ (image captured 12/7/12)
14. http://about-lady.blogspot.com/2011/12/cross-tattoosdesigns.html (image captured 12/7/12)
15. http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ichthys_C-Class.
jpg (image captured 12/7/12)
32
Harry Potter
Like the cross, Harry Potter’s lightning bolt scar
represents the overcoming of death. It marks his initial
defiance of death at Voldemort’s hands and presages
that one day he’ll overcome Voldemort once and for all.
Doctor Who
The police box—also known as the T.A.R.D.I.S. (Time
and Relative Dimension in Space)—ties together
the many Doctors, representing his numerous
resurrections. It also symbolizes mastery of death
through time travel.
A Word About Tattoos
The most permanent way of personalizing a narrative
is to make it a part of your very flesh. Tattoos are
extremely popular for both Christians21 and fans of
modern narratives. Images of Christ, his disciples and
doves are just as popular as images of the characters
in stories like Harry Potter and even The Hunger Games.
Plus, we see tattoo quotes from scripture as much as
from books, movies and television episodes.
We even see some aggressive cross-placement of the
symbol as franchises compete:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
The stake is the most prominent symbol in Buffy the
Vampire Slayer, although the cross necklace she wears
comes a close second. Representing the final death of
vampires, the ultimate weapon against resurrection of
the dead, the stake appears in all of the usual places in
fandom. But since the stake by itself can be misconstrued
as belonging to one of many franchises, we often find the
initial “B” or her full name attached to the stake.
Fans wear the scar on their foreheads and other body
parts,
Fans display this particular symbol on buildings,
jewelry, clothing, car bumpers and household items
such as jewelry boxes, cookie jars, tattoos,
as well as on jewelry and clothing.
22
23
25
Speaking of Twilight…
The apple in Twilight is probably the most interesting
symbol as it ties into both the new and biblical
narratives. In traditional Old Testament readings,
the “fruit” from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and
Evil—commonly described by Western culture as an
apple—represents spiritual death. But in Mormonism
and medieval narratives such as the poem Paradise
Lost26, the apple refers to the Fortunate Fall (also known
as the Felix Culpa) where Adam and Eve’s disobedience
to God by eating of the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge
of Good and Evil, and subsequent expulsion from the
Garden of Eden, are considered fortunate because
otherwise mankind could not have received the full
extent of God’s goodness: Christ’s redemptive death.
18
16
and even bars 19
24
17
.
16. http://img0.etsystatic.com/000/0/5570420/
il_570xN.195125744.jp (image captured 12/7/12)
17. http://www.redbubble.com/people/perdita00/
works/7599721-lightning-bolt-potter-style (image captured
12/7/12)
20
18. http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/tardis-tattoo (image
captured 12/7/12)
19. You’re drunker on the inside.
20. http://www.tqsmagazine.co.uk/7-wonderfully-wackytardis-inspired-creations/(image captured 12/7/12)
21. Some of the more conservative sects do not allow tattoos,
either because they shun adornment or because they follow
many of the Old Testament admonishments in Leviticus against
making marks on the body.
22. http://img3.etsystatic.com/000/0/6242014/il_
fullxfull.339011299.jpg (image captured 12/7/12)
23. http://www.angryyoungandpoor.com/store/pc/viewPrd.asp?i
dproduct=163125&idcategory=0 (image captured 12/7/12)
24. http://tattoosinatlantabymelissacapo.blogspot.com/
2012/08/creating-tattoos-that-bring-back-fond.html (image
captured 12/7/12) Note how the stake is the spine of the “B.”
27
25. http://www.jinx.com/p/buffy_staked_edward_t_shirt.html
(image captured 12/7/12)
26. An epic poem composed by the radical, heretical Puritan
John Milton, Paradise Lost is an excellent example of interaction
with the original narrative to fill in “the gaps.”
27. http://astore.amazon.com/stepheniemeye-20/
images/0316160172 (image captured 12/7/12)
34
The Changing Story
But author Stephenie Meyer, who incidentally is a
devout Mormon, says the apple symbolizes something
more essential:
The apple on the cover of Twilight represents
“forbidden fruit.” I used the scripture from Genesis...
because I loved the phrase “the fruit of the
knowledge of good and evil.” Isn’t this exactly what
Bella ends up with? A working knowledge of what
good is, and what evil is. The nice thing about the
apple is it has so many symbolic roots.… In the end,
I love the beautiful simplicity of the picture. To me it
says: choice.
It’s clear in the story that Bella considers her
choice—that is, her decision to die and be resurrected
as a vampire—a felix culpa. Fans seem to agree.
As for the symbol itself and how fans display it,
a simple Google search reveals that it matches the
previously described patterns.
Communal Interaction
Almost every organized religion hosts regular
gatherings for believers to read and re-read the source
material, to listen to an authority figure expound on
excerpts, and to engage in community. The desire for
relationships based on a similar interest in the narrative
drives people together in many different forums both
online and offline. They write, perform and listen to
related music; create art; and even reenact the original
narratives in sacred plays. In Catholicism, the Eucharist
Tradition amplifies the sacred play as its practitioners
relive The Last Supper, with the belief that the wine and
bread are actually turning into Christ’s blood and flesh.
Believers celebrate special days related to the original
narrative such as Christmas (the birthday of Christ) and
Easter (his death and resurrection).
Fandom engages in all of these same communal
behaviors. Harry Potter reading clubs like the “Harry
Potter Alliance,” celebrations of Harry’s birthday
(which is July 31, in case you’d forgotten, Muggle) and
Twilight conventions (for the “Twihards”) are just a few
examples. Annual conventions such as Gallifrey One
for the Whovians have been around for decades. And
while Buffy the Vampire Slayer reenactments are not
quite as ritualistic as Passion plays, they demonstrate
the same desire to act out and therefore commemorate
pivotal moments from the narrative.
Music
Like Christian musicians who write songs inspired
by the Bible, “wrock bands” play music known as
Wizard Rock, which is inspired solely by the Harry
Potter universe. Doctor Who fans have penned a rich
collection of fan music called Time Lord Rock or “trock”
for short. Buffy has inspired an enormous amount of
music, which isn’t surprising seeing that music was an
important element of the series. But what is surprising
is the number of actors in the television series who
have bands of their own. These aren’t exactly hymns
praising The Creator—if you don’t count songs about
Joss Whedon—but they do praise The Creation.
Online “Midrash”
Like midrash itself, sites such as Mugglenet, The Leaky
Cauldron and others once tried to dissect the events
of The Half-Blood Prince, as many fans couldn’t accept
the death of Albus Dumbledore, posting scores of
essays and hosting endless discussions and debates.
The conversation continues to this day on many fan
sites about the series as fans reminisce, review and
even dispute events in the books. The same is true
for the other series and then some. Doctor Who sites
like Timelash.com, WhovianNet, DoctorWho.com and
many others—not to mention any nook or cranny of
social media—serve as outlets for fans to debate the
events laid out in the series as to how they might affect
Who cannon. Many times, fans are simply debating
what the hell happened in the first place. The tolerance
for “heresy” is of course higher than for those early
Christian sects, but the discussions can be just as
heated.
Who wrote the “original narrative” of Christianity?
Scholars have hotly debated authorship of the Gospels
for ages. They’ve also called into question exactly who
called Jesus “The Savior” in the first place because,
while Jesus made the blasphemous claim that he
was the Son of God, he never called himself The
Messiah. Therefore if it really was someone outside
of the narrative who called Jesus the Messiah, then
participation is what changed the story from one of a
magical man to that of a Magical Savior.
The process of participation changes the narrative.
One of the more striking examples of this occurred
in Mormonism with the tale told by Joseph Smith. The
angel Moroni told him where to find a “buried book
of golden plates as well as other artifacts, including a
breastplate and a set of silver spectacles with lenses
composed of seer stones, which had been hidden
in a hill near his home.”28 With this event Smith not
only used the [Y/N] self-insertion of fan fiction but he
sparked the development of a whole new narrative
tangential to the original, eventually revamping the
story and borrowing its terms and character names
to create a brand new cosmology and mythology,
complete with a felix culpa.
This sort of metamorphosis happens all the time in
fan fiction as authors expand the original content both
to explore new stories with the old characters and to
insert themselves into the narrative. Bella is an orphan,
Edward is human and has a girlfriend named Tanya, or
the wolves show up a few minutes later… Sometimes
the story changes to the point where it’s no longer
recognizable. The mega blockbuster 50 Shades of Gray,
for example, was initially Twilight fan fiction.
28. Smith, Joseph, Jr.; Mulholland, James; Thompson, Robert B.;
Phelps, William W.; Richards, Willard (1839–1843), “History of
the Church, Ms. A–1”, in Jessee, Dean C, Personal Writings of
Joseph Smith, Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 2002, ISBN 1-57345787-6.
A popular version of fan fiction creates a romantic or
sexual relationship between characters where none
existed previously. An enormous number of stories
couple the male characters (in what’s called “slash”),
as well as female characters (“femmeslash”) and even
heterosexual partnerships (“het” or “general” slash).
While not as popular a practice in ancient times, both
medieval Catharists and modern authors have changed
the narrative around Jesus’ relationship to Mary
Magdalene. Modern writings include the nonfiction,
Holy Blood, Holy Grail29, and the novel that cannibalized
it, The Da Vinci Code30. Referring to the recently
uncovered Coptic papyrus that purportedly reveals
Jesus had a wife, some commentators even describe the
papyrus writings as “fan fiction.”
In an example of contemporary Christian fan fiction,
the Left Behind series extends and therefore changes the
narrative of The Book of Revelation. The series weaves
the enigmatic imagery described by John of Patmos
with references from other epistles to fill in the “gaps”
between prophecy and future. Author Tim LaHaye
states that, “Left Behind is the first fictional portrayal
of events that are true to the literal interpretation of
Bible prophecy.” Yet its premillenial dispensationalist
interpretation of the Bible is considered less “literal”
and more fictive by almost all other Christian
denominations besides evangelicals.31 Ironically, John
of Patmos warns in Revelation 22:19, “And if any man
shall take away from the words of the book of this
prophecy, God shall take away his part out of the book
of life, and out of the holy city, and from the things which
are written in this book.”32 This makes Revelation
the one book of the New Testament that discourages
participation, if for no other reason than for fear of what
might happen should one accidentally subtract in the
process of adding.
29. By Michael & Leight, Richard & Lincoln, Henry Baigent,
Jonathan Cape, © 1982.
30. By Dan Brown, Doubleday, © 2003.
31. “Beam Me Up Theology” by John Dart, former religion
writer for the Los Angeles Times.
32. King James 2000 Bible.
36
What This Means for
Interactive Storytellers
But it’s not just the story that changes. The names
of the participants can change when they come in
contact with the narrative. For example, the apostle
Saul’s name changed to Paul after his conversion.
No one is certain why Saul changed to Paul at that
time. It’s possible that he chose to use his “Gentile”
name because he felt it would be more effective in
preaching to the Gentiles. Yet in the Orthodox and
Catholic churches, the baby is given a baptismal name
in addition to its birth name. While this can be and
often is the same name as the birth name, it doesn’t
have to be. Regardless, the type of name—usually
those of saints, angels and other Bible characters—
reflects that child’s permanent connection to the
Christian narrative. Reminiscent of the baptismal
name, fanfic authors and artists almost as a rule use
pen names, creating a unique persona within the
world of participation.33 While some authors use one
pen name for all of the fan fiction that they write across
franchises, others use a unique pen name for each
franchise. The latter practice allows an author to write
for various franchises without having to deal with the
friction that occasionally occurs when other authors
realize that he or she writes fan fiction for a “rival”
franchise or genre.
Participation
Creates Ownership
As fan writers and artists interact with the storyline and
“fill in gaps,” they develop a sense of ownership. The
participants no longer see the story belonging solely to
the original author because they have fed it with their
emotional, intellectual and creative energy. The result
sometimes does produce a work that’s different enough
to garner a book deal with a major publisher, such
as what happened with 50 Shades of Grey and Mortal
Instruments.
Their feelings, however, go far beyond authorial
proprietorship. Whether it’s a tale of fiction or faith,
the personal investment is just as strong. For example,
33. See the terrific variety of pen names on Fanfiction.net and
even DeviantArt.
Dumbledore’s death sent fans scrambling back to the
books, combing the pages for clues to see if he was Obi
Wan-dead or just Sherlock Holmes-dead. This mirrors
the reaction of both early Christians and modern
believers when Jesus fails to return as predicted or
when the Rapture doesn’t materialize. Even the intensity
of the outrage over the unexpected addition of Dawn
Summers, Buffy’s little sister, bordered on bizarre.
Because story franchises are crossing from books
to screen, story participants embrace the behavior
and values of the original story world to some degree.
They might even be so rigid as to expect the actors
who embody the characters to embrace those same
behaviors and values. We’ve seen it for years in
other franchises, such as the X-Files, but the strongest
example occurred recently with the betrayal of Rob
Pattinson who plays Edward in Twilight by his real-life
girlfriend Kristen Stewart who plays Bella. When the
two actors became romantically involved, they took
an element of the story and made it real. At first, the
fans supported it enthusiastically because it followed
the script, so to speak. But when Stewart betrayed
Pattinson and broke the story rules, fans went
ballistic, some video taping their hysterics and others
physically attacking her.
Participation isn’t acceptable by those who
become too much a part of the original story, such as
Stewart and Pattinson when they took on real-life roles
resembling their onscreen relationship. They have
to tell the story “right.” Only outside participants can
interact with the story, change it and own it. While not
a part of the original Jesus story, famous televangelists
like Jimmy Swaggart, Jim Bakker and Ted Haggard took
on the roles of Jesus’ original disciples and broke the
rules of the New Testament narrative with their sexual
transgressions. The members of their congregations
were deeply upset. They didn’t physically attack
anyone or make Internet accusations, but in the case of
Ted Haggard they did grieve and express anger, and
about 20% even left the church.
Death. Resurrection. Salvation at the hand of the
Magical Savior. Why do stories with these themes
provoke such a strong need to interact? Why do we
want to become part of these stories, to even own them
to some degree? Is it a way for us to deal with our own
vulnerability and mortality?
Regardless of what it means to fans, interactive
storytellers should take note. Whether you are creating
an alternate reality game, a live-action role-playing
game, an interactive theater experience or something
entirely new, people must want to participate in your
story regardless of the interactive features. This means
you must focus first on the story itself and not the
design. As we’ve seen in these examples, participation
is spontaneous and prolific when the narrative captures
the reader’s heart and imagination. When creating
the story, consider using the Magical Savior motif, as
well as themes of death and resurrection. Think about
symbols, too. Raise the stakes as high as possible
and infuse your story with deep emotion, strong
relationships and catharsis. Your design should aid
and abet the participatory behaviors that will then
naturally arise. If your story is powerful enough,
the participation that results can create not just an
interesting online experience or evening of intrigue,
but rather a cultural force majeure.
May the plot be ever in your favor.
Maria Alexander is an author and interactive
narrative designer living in Los Angeles. In addition to
publishing numerous stories and poems, she’s created
virtual worlds, online games, live-action roleplaying
games, and interactive theatre events. She has a special
passion for transmedia storytelling. And she is sometimes
mistaken (?) for River Song.
38
Gaming the Players
Four meditations on the physics of building games out of humans
by J Li
I. What Our Games
are Made Of
Live action plays by different rules than tabletop
roleplaying. A writer can’t make a larp about all the
things she might make a tabletop game about. A
player can’t contribute as wide a range of characters
or content.
This is because in larp, what happens gets
established by what players do, whereas in tabletop,
what happens gets established by what players
describe. Words are cheap, but actions are expensive.
The more live an action is, the tougher it usually gets
to represent. Live is just a harder medium to make
things in.
This is both the blessing and the curse of larp.
Being surrounded by a reality built of real-time actions
is profoundly immersive. Few things are as exciting as
watching a story unfold around you, while you play a
meaningful part in it. But regardless of the standard of
live-ness, some actions can be vastly more difficult to
represent than others. This creates a gravity across the
medium toward stories built out of those actions that can
be expressed more easily.
That’s why so many larps end up being about
politics, relationships, beliefs, interactions, decisions,
and so on. There’s a home field advantage for plots
that can be represented by a bunch of people moving
around a room, handling simple objects, and talking to
each other. Even if you tried to write a game about the
challenges of survival in the cold, dark void of space,
it would probably end up being about how people felt
and talked about it.
Larp is more often about humanities simply
because humans are the basic building blocks— after
all, people are the only things complex enough to
carry a plot that can be in a game without our having
to build or buy them.
This makes it impactful, then, that there is also
gravity within an individual player toward characters
who are more similar to herself. When larping, every
detail of every action we take, from where we stand,
to how we hold ourselves, to our choice of words or
hints of emotion, become a part of the in-game reality.
We can’t choose most of that— and even if we do
consciously make the bigger decisions, it’s often the
confluence of smaller choices that shapes a game’s
direction. But where our minds can’t control every little
II. Dirty Secrets
detail of our actions, just like they never do in real life,
we default to our unconscious habits.
And it’s not just OOC mannerisms that come into
play. It’s also not easy to roleplay different modes of
thinking and feeling, especially when immersively
improvising in real time. A character might react
differently to perceived hostility than the player would,
but she’s far more likely to consider the same things
hostile. A character could have different feelings
about a situation than her player, but her emotional
range is probably about the same. And if suspicions
are aroused, then where exactly is the line between
character and player intuition?
I once had a player come to me in angry, panicked
tears in the middle of a week long game. His
character had just escaped from a harrowing fight. I
thought he would be delighted, but instead he was
distraught that his character would be unable to attend
any other important events, and was thus practically
removed from the game. I tried to reassure him that
his injuries were not severe enough to hold him back
from further involvement, but it didn’t seem to make a
difference. It took me a long time before I understood
that his concern came from the fact his enemy had
used an ability to leave a disfiguring facial scar. The
player felt that his character was paralyzed from going
out in public, in a way that wasn’t affected by a war
raging and the fate of the world at stake. I cheered
him by undoing the scar, but I walked away feeling
like I had learned far more about the player than I had
about the character.
In order to play someone whose social mannerisms
are really different from you, you have to be a skilled
actor. In order to play someone who experiences
details in the world differently from you, you have
to be sort of zen. I know players who are one, and a
couple who are both— but the majority of players I’ve
met are neither.
And that’s great. But it means that we have to be
prepared to work with what’s really going on inside
players’ heads— because that’s what our games will
be made of.
In the past, I had a secret trick. The more games I
ran, the more I stopped believing in this mythical wall
between IC (in character) and OOC (out of character).
When someone asked me for larpwriting advice, I
would confide that the biggest lesson I had was that the
players are all playing the game, but the GM’s real job
is to game the players. What I meant was that everyone
wants the shelter of feeling as though the game is a
completely fictional creation, but in truth it’s built out
of the inner world of the players, and the person who
is running it needs to know not just how to run their
characters but how to run them.
Now, I don’t think it’s such a secret anymore. I no
longer think that people need to be sheltered from
the existence and impact of their own subconscious. I
do think that larp could benefit from an open, honest,
transparent analysis of how player psychology really
behaves.
Most of all, though, I think we should embrace two
aspects of larp that have typically been considered dirty
laundry.
The first is wish fulfillment. Where I come from,
wish fulfillment is a very bad word. But as a designer
and a GM, I love wish fulfillment. I never learn more
about someone than by watching the things they do with
their imagination when they think that no one is judging.
It’s often condemned as artless, or crass, but you cannot
have high art without deep motivation. I think it’s an
important part of gaming that all dreams are beautiful,
even if those dreams are on our own behalf.
Larping a personal wish is not a substitute for living
it. But especially for those desires we guard quietly, it
gives us practice to master them— whether it be toward
making them someday come true, accepting that they
can’t come true, or making sure that they never come
true. Wishing for an experience holds a secret, and
wisdom can follow from chasing it.
The second thing I think we could embrace is player
drama. Another bad word, associated with toxicity,
messiness, irrelevance and destruction. But this is
because we only discuss player relations when they’re
bad. In truth, the same forces that lead us to lose so
much to poor player relations will also causes us to gain
so much from good player relations.
The habits by which players interact shape both
the IC and OOC world. Player relations lie at the
intersection of the interactive social with the player
subconscious. Since larp tends to engender both
social-heavy plots and subconscious-heavy characters,
that means that OOC politics is a strong influence in IC
reality. Like any other mechanic, it’s literally a part of
the game. And that means that handling it should be a
part of the design.
But that is also great. People put their real passions
into larp because larp holds an open place for passions
to go. Players go to a game because they want an
experience in which their passions are moved. The
game takes up those passions, mixes them up, shuffles
them around, intertwines them with each other. And
if it’s a well-designed game, it leads them to flow back
out the other end, to return changed back into the
players’ hearts.
III. Intense Conversation
A larp is, fundamentally, a conversation—a very, very
high bandwidth conversation, incredibly nuanced,
about a topic that we could never convey in a million
words. Maybe about it’s a particular feeling, or a way for
things to work, or a type of situation, or something else.
Each player brings to the table what he personally
has to say, contained mostly in his unconscious. His
conscious character choices may shape which slice of all
that he has to offer will be put forth, but at the end of the
day he can only say what he carries with him.
The playing of the game is the incredible confluence
of what everyone has to say. It does not happen in
chronological sequence, but rather simultaneously
across time, where an action at the end and an event at
the beginning may be different parts of the same word.
Each scenario, itself, hosts the conversation
differently. Some may serve forward topics to converse
on, and facilitate that conversation. Others merely give
topic suggestions and leave the players to choose which
to pursue. Still others offer their own strong voice into
the conversation, stringently drive the subject matter,
and conduct a dialogue with the players. But every
game will be different as every set of players takes the
conversation in a different direction.
40
Something happens when you talk: you grow closer.
When players’ voices join in play for a long period
time, they build an incredible amount of common
understanding. And that understanding is the more
powerful because it touches on topics for which there
are no words.
But common understanding has both advantages
and risks. On one hand, you gain both enlightenment
and intimacy. On the other, you grow habits, shortcuts,
and assumptions. When the reality that you share with
someone is crisscrossed with intense conversations
past, it’s both easier to visit together from idea to idea,
and harder to notice the gaps in between.
IV. Gaming The Players
Because much intense, subconscious, and interpersonal
content is in play when players larp together, the best
way to game the players has everything to do with the
shape of the group the larp is being run for.
There are so many dimensions that groups
could vary on— gaming experience, perhaps, or
demographics, or life backgrounds. A beautiful
thing about larp is that each difference has an impact.
The one that matters the most to me, though, is the
difference between a group that larps together once
and one that larps together over and over.
Playing a one-shot with strangers is like a one-
night stand: unpredictable, perhaps a bit intoxicating,
usually eye-opening. It has the advantage that you
can trot out your old ideas and be proud that they feel
exciting and new to your collocutors. And when that
happens, it is quite likely that you will learn something
new about a familiar topic by way of their unfamiliar
response. You grow much wider understanding about
a given conversation topic by larping it many times with
strangers.
Larping with an old, familiar group is more like a
marriage. If it’s a group you enjoy gaming with, it’s
a marriage of love. (If it’s the only group around, it’s
probably more like a marriage of convenience.) At
the beginning, you were excited to explore one
another, eager to hear more of each other’s voice with
each subsequent game. Over time, you grew familiar
with what each person had to say, but enjoyed the
conversation just to hear them say it again anyway. As
even more time went on, you stopped having anything
new to say, and the games passed in unremarkable
silence, interspersed with shorthand actions
representing elaborate chains of thought. Assumptions
and habits formed, and it grew harder to say anything
simple and unadorned because of the weight of all of
those extra conclusions attached.
Just as bringing richness and color into a one-night
stand is completely different from bringing it into a
marriage, so is running a game for strangers different
from running it for a community.
To succeed in the former, you might create
opportunities for inspired improvisation, make sure the
best moments shine through, perhaps connect the dots
loosely and let the dance do the rest.
But to be really, really successful in the latter, you
actually need to tackle the community itself.
Is the level of mutual commitment high?
Do players want to make sure other players get what
they need?
Does everyone occasionally feel challenged?
Do we embrace being a part of fulfilling one
another’s wish fulfillment desires? (And, like in a
marriage, are we prepared to have a conversation about
it when some of those desires are inevitably taboo?)
Where the one-night-stand succeeds by letting the
brightest voices lead, the marriage succeeds by making
sure that no one is left behind. Compromising in the
former is a kindness, but compromising in the latter is
an investment toward everyone having more of what
they need in the long run.
Doing something untested, stupid, or disruptive
could ruin the entire experience for a one-shot. But
encouraging abject experiment failures in a community
allows for innovation and growth. The one-shot’s
greatest threat is failing. But the community’s greatest
threat is the moment when there is nothing left to offer
each other, and nothing new to do.
J Li is a predominantly larp writer who loves running
gaming communities as much as running games. She
is the creator and former puppet master of the Stanford
Gaming Society. In larp writing, she goes for density of
plot, ease of play, and long-term sustainability. She’s
not involved with Nordic larp, but is influenced by Bay
Area values like simplicity, experimentation, and userfocus. Parlor Larps and other games at shiftingforest.com,
dialogue on G+ at bit.ly/XYgkSK.
42
Revisiting the Threefold Model
by John Kim
How did it start?
Gamer divisions at the time
The Threefold Model came out of discussions on the
newsgroup rec.games.frp.advocacy in 1997. The term
was coined by Mary Kuhner in a July 1997 post, but more
people became familiar with it through a “Frequently
Asked Questions” document, written by myself in
October 1998.
In its original form, the model was created in the mid1990s. At the time, there was a sharp division among
role-players between Dungeons & Dragons and White
Wolf’s Storyteller system games. TSR’s Dungeons &
Dragons was still very popular but its popularity was
seen as waning, while White Wolf’s Storyteller games
were in their heyday. Larps mirrored this, with a strong
split between home-grown fantasy boffer larps and
White Wolf’s Mind’s Eye Theater. GURPS retained a
proliferating series of books and had a solid following
as well, along with other tabletop systems and larps
with a focus on realism. Several vocal splits echoed the
Threefold Model fairly closely.
Among other gamers, D&D and fantasy larps were
criticized for rewarding killing and its emphasis on
collecting experience points—gamist features. White
Wolf games were criticized for pretentious material
and players along with linear plots—dramatist features.
GURPS was criticized for detailed mechanics, involved
math, and prosaic results—simulationist features.
During the 1990s, the overall trend had been
towards more dramatist games—including White Wolf’s
World of Darkness and its imitators, but also cinematic
action games including Shadowrun, Deadlands, and
Torg. This changed starting with the resurgence of third
edition Dungeons & Dragons in 1999. In particular, many
players reacted against the advice in storytelling and
cinematic games to have their storylines predetermined
by the gamemaster or module author. This was also the
time when independent story games and Nordic art
larps were emerging as their own scenes.
The FAQ describes the model in more detail, but
briefly, it postulates a three-way split for how people
view and make decisions within an RPG. In gamism,
situations are resolved so that play is a fair challenge to
player skill. In simulationism, situations are resolved as
consistent, logical consequence from in-game causes. In
dramatism, situations are resolved to create a satisfying
storyline.
What it represents
The model does not represent goals or rewards.
Rather, it represents three approaches to logical
decision-making within or about the game. Given
many possibilities in the game, logical decisions
must be based on premises. If a person doesn’t
know what to do next in the game, they need a basis
for doing so. As gamemaster, do you make the call
that is most fair, most real, or most dramatically
interesting? As player, do you make the choice that
most demonstrates skill, that best fits your character,
or that best enhances the storyline?
The rewards for play are generally emotional rather
than part of a logical decision-making process. We
play for the social experience, the vicarious thrill, the
cathartic release, or various other personal reasons. We
may emotionally prefer one of those models, but we also
have preferences that go far beyond those models. One
Previous models of role-playing were generally pitched
player might like big fight scenes, and another might
as “player types”—implying that players had fixed
prefer science fiction over fantasy. The other personal
personality types that guided their play. One of the
preferences don’t form a broad model for logical
earliest models was expressed by Glenn Blacow in
decision-making, however.
his 1980 article “Aspects of Adventure Gaming.” He
postulated four basic types of RPG players: “RoleA few players might play for logical real-world goals
Playing,”
“Story Telling,” “Powergaming,” and
such as practice in language or math skills, or learning
“Wargaming.” The former is described as focusing
history or science. However, such logical goals tend
on character lives, making characters “as alive as the
to be independent of most in-game decisions. You
players who created them”—related to simulationism
aren’t going to decide whether or not to charge straight
through to the leader based on which choice would help though the language differs. Blacow’s “Story Telling”
matches closely with dramatism, and “Wargaming” with
your math skills.
How did it change things?
gamism. “Powergaming” players seem like less mature
version of wargamers—still interested in challenges and
competition, but disliking any setbacks or defeat.
Also common is a simple two-sided model that
contrasts more serious with less serious. This was
expressed clearly in third edition D&D, written at the
same time as the Threefold Model was being formulated.
The new D&D suggested that styles varied between the
extremes of “Kick in the Door” and “Deep-Immersion
Storytelling.”
The Threefold Model changed the landscape mainly
by looking at the types more broadly than just pre-set
types of players. It could be applied equally to players,
game masters, and game designs. Further, both players
and game masters could follow different modes in
different situations. In addition, it emphasized the split
between drama and simulation that was sometimes
glossed over in two-way splits.
How was it adapted?
Within a year, the model was discussed on other forums,
including discussion lists for the game Sorcerer and the
website The Gaming Outpost, as well as overseas in
Nordic larp circles. In January 1999, Ron Edwards’ essay
“System Does Matter” showed a version of his “GNS”
system that closely resembled the Threefold Model. In it,
a simulationist player “is satisfied if the system ‘creates’
a little pocket universe without fudging.” A narrativist
players “is satisfied if a roleplaying session results in a
good story.” A gamist player “is satisfied if the system
includes a contest which he or she has a chance to win.”
However, in October 2001, Edwards posted a more
lengthy essay entitled “GNS and Other Matters of
Role-Playing Theory”—and followed with more essays.
These drastically changed the definitions for the three
categories. Most notably, they classify many games that
explicitly espouse story as the goal and structure (such
as White Wolf’s Storyteller games) as simulationist. In
the Threefold, simulation is an uncommon third option
compared to gamism of D&D or the dramatism of
Storyteller. In the revised GNS, simulationism is roughly
all of the first 25 years of RPGs.
This difference is a frequent point of confusion and/
or controversy. Many people interpret “simulation” as
being specifically about simulating an alternate reality—
but the revised GNS simulationism was much broader. It
even encompassed games that had unique mechanics for
story elements, such as the diceless game Theatrix.
In some sense, this unification paralleled changes
in the RPG market. In 2001, third edition Dungeons &
Dragons and its d20 system were in the process of briefly
unifying the market. For a number of years, most new
44
tabletop RPG systems would either use the d20 system
or a close parallel.
At the same time, the model was also adopted
among live-action role-players in Nordic countries.
Petter Bøckman formalized an adaptation of the
Threefold Model published in 2003, though it was
already referred to as a “classic.” This kept to the
original definitions of gamist and dramatist, but
replaced simulationist with the term “immersionist.”
That had similar rhetoric, but emphasized in-depth
probing of character while treating the fiction as reality.
This was included in the Threefold description of
simulationism, but the name simulation emphasized the
external more.
Where is it headed?
Where should it go?
GNS remains a controversial topic of discussion in
most forums, and the original Threefold Model is often
considered the same as GNS. The divisions among
gamers have shifted, however. Dungeons & Dragons
remain the core of the market, but there is a schism
between the solidly gamist 4th edition and the more
moderate Pathfinder. In addition, there is a small but
significant simulationist movement for earlier editions
of D&D, known as the Old School Renaissance, and a
significant dramatist movement of self-published “story
games”—which have explicitly influenced many new
releases such as the Dresden Files RPG and Marvel
Heroic Roleplaying.
Larps remain primarily home-grown and thus
have more regional variation. Still, broad categories
such as fantasy boffer larps, Nordic art larps, and
White Wolf style larps remain distinct categories—
and many similar splits appear among these groups,
such as clashes between immersionist larps that
focus on character details and dramatist freeforms or
“jeepforms” that encourage scene breaks and stepping
out of character.
The key to using the Threefold Model is understanding
each of the three types as a mode of logical thought.
They are not goals or personality types, and they can
support different goals of play. For example, following
the logical consequences of decisions as if they were
real can be a powerful exploration of ethical issues—
something that has often been associated with drama
and story. By accepting these as modes, we can look
past them at emotional and social goals of games.
References
Blacow, Glenn. “Aspects of Adventure Gaming”. Different
Worlds #10 (October 1980).
Edwards, Ron. “System Does Matter”.
http://www.indie-rpgs.com/articles/11/ (1999)
Gade, Morten; Thorup, Line; Sander, Mikkel (editors). As Larp
Grows Up: Theory and Methods in Larp.
http://www.laivforum.dk/kp03_book/ (2003)
John Kim is a role-playing explorer who is
interested in the broad range of RPGs, from Scandinavian
larp to miniature-using skirmishes. He has been writing
on RPG theory since 1995, starting on UseNet and his
website. He lives in the San Francisco Bay area, where he
works for an educational non-profit. cf. www.darkshire.
net/jhkim/rpg/
46
Good Play for Game Designers
You are already a good player. Are you using good play as the foundation for your game design?
by Jason Morningstar
P
layers are underrated. As a community we
spend a lot of time thinking about how to
facilitate, how to lead, how to organize, how
to design. These are high prestige, high
status activities that require discipline and skill. A
great game master can garner a lot of praise, and
a great writer or designer can see their influence
reverberate far and wide. While everybody loves
a great player, they are often regarded as a happy
accident, something precious and appreciated but not
something to be celebrated or even made.
Perhaps this should change. The skill of a great
player—their playcraft—is foundational to a great
game. Proportions will vary with style and approach,
but in contrast to designer and facilitator, what do the
players bring to a game, and how much attention gets
paid to their contribution to its success? The skills that
comprise solid playcraft are skills game designers
should be paying close attention to, for obvious
reasons.
What follows is an outline of positive player
behavior. The individual items run the gamut from
highly social to highly procedural. Many of these
suggestions overlap. If you are listening actively,
for example, you are probably also listening more
than you talk. If you are strongly advocating for your
character, you are almost certainly also accepting
gifts of adversity and confrontation. It’s worth noting
that this is not holy writ, and not every item is going
to apply to every game. Similarly, a design that
deliberately and transgressively contravenes one or
more of these rules could be amazing.
If you are designing a game, this outline presents
a list of behaviors your rules should probably support
if you can, procedurally or otherwise. If you are
facilitating a game, this outline presents a list of
behaviors you should probably model and encourage.
If you are playing a game... do this stuff.
Playcraft
Be Generous
Listen and share: Generosity means giving freely,
sharing, and accepting what others share in return.
Be patient and kind.
Listen intently, all the time.
Find the group’s vibe and go along with it. Listen more
than you talk.
Incorporate and reincorporate others’ ideas. Reduce,
reuse and recycle the fiction.
Think of yourself as a conservator of other people’s genius.
Using someone else’s idea is a wonderful gift to them.
Offer ideas when necessary or appropriate.
Even a conservator needs to bust out and paint
something occasionally, to stay fresh and keep their
skills up. Your contribution is a gift to other players
looking for things to reincorporate themselves.
Grab the spotlight when appropriate, but shine it
elsewhere more often.
This is the performative adjunct to “listen more than
you talk”: balance attention generously and gracefully.
Happily give the gift of your interest and enthusiasm.
Explicitly and implicitly tie your character to others.
If you have the opportunity to establish existing
relationships, dive in—be sisters, be lovers, be rivals. If
relationships are fixed, amplify and build and transform.
Make it complicated and messy and interesting.
Give your character weaknesses and hooks.
Trust your fellow players to use your vulnerability to
make the game (and your character’s life) more fun, by
some definition of fun. Characters in safety may not lead
interesting lives.
Accept gifts of lower status, adversity and
confrontation.
Danger, humiliation and defeat are the finest tokens of
esteem one can bestow on a player. That you are worth
endangering, humiliating or defeating is the highest
praise. Strive to return the favor.
As a game designer, do you procedurally or socially
reward kindness and generosity? Is listening valued, either
explicitly or implicitly?
J. Tuomas Harviainen’s The Tribunal is an intense shortform live action game that completely relies on players’
ability to listen attentively and share the spotlight —twelve
characters find themselves in a life-and-death pressure
cooker that demands discussion, debate, and decision.
The fictional situation expertly molds player behavior and
effectively forces generous play.
Plot and Scheme
Be interesting and make trouble: As a player you should
constantly be looking for opportunities to complicate and
challenge, judiciously acting on those opportunities in the
service of a better experience for everyone.
Make your character interesting to everyone,
including yourself.
Aim to delight. Use humor and pathos, strive for a wellrealized and sympathetic character.
Have strong, clear goals and motivations as a player
and a character.
Know what you want and know what your character wants.
If those two things are different, so much the better.
Be patient and kind
Be interesting and
make trouble
Play it as hard as
you can
Take metagame
ownership of the game
Keep your
priorities straight
Build, escalate and break patterns.
It is very common to form social patterns, and this is a
fundamental play activity. Be aware of the patterns you
build, and seek to intensify and ultimately transform
them. An obvious example—if you begin with a rival,
make them a murderous rival, and then fall in love
with them.
As a game designer, does your game offer clear
structures that support rich, meaty relationships and clear
motivations? Do players have the tools and agency to
transform those relationships in play?
Liam Burke’s tabletop game Dog Eat Dog asks players
to tell a story of colonization ending perhaps in bloody
revolution and perhaps in meek assimilation. Characters
are effectively place-holders for dominant ideas within
the culture under occupation, tied together by a rich web
of affinity and affiliation. Goals emerge as the game’s
mechanisms kick in with brutal efficiency—you may want to
maintain the status quo, but it will not let you. You will rebel
(and die) or you will join your oppressors. Along the way,
it is almost impossible not to paint compelling and tragic
portraits of a doomed culture.
Embody
It’s your game, too: Play it as hard as you can, including on
the metagame level where appropriate.
Play transparently and honestly.
Show good judgment. Play fair and play openly. Let
people know what you are doing and what you want.
Really sell character personality and emotion.
Play a real character, according to the game’s fiction and
theme. Respect genre and premise.
Strongly advocate for your character and the
elements you control.
Advocacy does not necessarily mean the relentless
pursuit of success.
Allow in-game events to change your character.
Don’t think too far ahead. Be open to the developing
fiction’s transformative chaos.
48
Absorb the rules and use them vigorously.
Rules are there for a reason, so don’t avoid them. Note
that “rules” exist on the social level, too.
Lose enthusiastically and fail in interesting ways.
If you are given the gift of failure, fail in an ignominious
way that makes someone else look good and deepens
their relationship with you.
As a game designer, do your rules both demonstrate and
reward constructive in-game behavior? Is direct character
advocacy, regardless of outcome, always the most
interesting and fun choice for a player?
In the Jeepform game The Upgrade!, characters arrive on
a reality TV island paradise as couples with detailed and
problematic backstories, poised for conflict and surprising
changes of heart. Since the game’s secret purpose is to
train players in Jeepform techniques, those techniques
are front and center at all times. Honest, direct play
demands throwing your poor contestant into the fan blades
of salacious television and emerging transformed—the
metaphor supports brave, even reckless play.
Facilitate
Even if it isn’t your job, it is your job: Take metagame
ownership of the game as it grows and changes.
Shepherd the plot.
Keep an eye out for fictional loose ends and tie them
together.
Troubleshoot.
Identify and help to correct problems wherever they
occur, on every level. This includes problems that
develop in the fiction, of course, but also social issues
between participants.
Be a fan of other players characters and
contributions.
Empathize with every character in the game. Support
their arcs and gift them with challenges, complications,
and reversals.
Respect cause and effect.
Think ahead, too!
Help pace the game.
The very best way to maintain a satisfying pace is to
edit judiciously but decisively. End scenes, shift time,
and keep things moving. Strive to build a local culture
of play that embraces and encourages editing by any
player. When you are involved in a scene it can be
difficult to see the logical edit point, but an otherwiseunengaged fellow player may spot it easily. If they have
social permission to end the scene, so much the better.
Strive to build a stable of eager editors! This has the
added benefit of keeping everyone involved at all times.
Ask for help, suggestions and feedback.
Your idea is probably not the absolute best idea. Your
frustration probably isn’t necessary. Feedback—on
your own choices and involvement and on the game
in general, can be a positive force for improving the
experience for everybody.
As a game designer, do your rules regulate facilitation
chores like pacing and plot? Do they support and
encourage player agency on a metagame level?
In the tabletop game Fiasco, at the game’s mid-point
there is an explicit break that is called for. This typically
falls 60-90 minutes into the game, and is a time when
creative energy is flagging as the emerging fiction is
taking definite shape. Requiring a break after introducing
two new disruptive elements (the Tilt) tacitly encourages
players to assess their session and make necessary
corrections. In addition, Fiasco has a built-in “ask for
help” mechanism—a player can choose to resolve a scene,
delegating framing responsibility to the collective efforts of
their friends.
Ben Robbins’ tabletop game Microscope tasks players
not with advocating for characters, but for ideas across a
vast swathe of history. To play Microscope is to constantly
monitor cause and effect, always watching and waiting
for opportunities to neatly tie up disparate and sometimes
consequential snippets of history.
As a game designer, is participant safety baked into your
procedures? Do you incentivize asking for help or hardcode feedback mechanisms? Do you offer suggestions for
healthy interaction, such as taking breaks?
Be Safe
Keep your priorities straight: Remember that people are
more important than the game.
Acknowledgements
Use space wisely.
Use personal space and volume to communicate
appropriately, giving other players the physical and
temporal space they need.
The notion of playcraft comes from John Stavropoulos,
president of NerdNYC, who first outlined and
aggregated most of the concepts included in this article.
My role here is one of comment and refinement. Elin
Dalstål, Marshall Miller, and Frank Tarcikowski
also provided clarity and insight. Additional thanks to
Emily Care Boss and John Stavropoulos.
Help others with rules and concepts.
Be helpful generally, but particularly as a resource
for players either newer or less adept at absorbing
procedures than yourself.
Work hard, but encourage occasional breaks.
Come prepared to really invest some effort in making
the game great.
The Tribunal
http://dl.dropbox.com/u/3441990/tribunal_02.pdf
Dog Eat Dog
http://liwanagpress.com/dog-eat-dog/
The Upgrade!
http://jeepen.org/games/upgrade/
Microscope
http://www.lamemage.com/
Fiasco
http://www.bullypulpitgames.com/games/fiasco/
Jason Morningstar is a game designer
whose interests include GMless and freeform tabletop
and short-form live action roleplaying, as well as using
analog games for teaching and learning. He is a twotime recipient of the Diana Jones Award for Gaming
Excellence and is a frequent guest at game gatherings
nationally and internationally. As a consultant, Jason
has worked with clients that include Kaiser-Permanente
Health Care Systems, the Innovation Learning Network
and the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.
Co-President of Bully Pulpit Games LLC, Jason lives and
works in Durham, North Carolina.
jason@bullypulpitgames.com
50
Skin Deep
by Emily Care Boss
Fluff/color
Fluff: Slang for the parts of a RPGbook other than the
rules—such as setting details, game fiction, history,
et cetera. Usually contrasted with Crunch, which is the
actual rules.
http://wiki.rpg.net/index.php/RPG_Lexica:DEF
To examine Fluff and Crunch more deeply, come meet
one hundred characters:
Color: Details that provide atmosphere.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/GNS_Theory
Fluff: Opposite of crunch. Most often story based material
designed to enhance role-playing. This material includes
background information for NPC’s, scenarios, settings
and/or even scenes. Material used to “flesh-out” elements
of a role-playing game so they appear in the mind’s eye
as more than just a list of statistics. Non-mechanic based
material.
http://rpggeek.com/wiki/page/RPG_Glossary
O
path (most likely to destruction). But when it came down
to it, these quantified markers were what it all hinged
on. Any personality or “fluff” grafted onto the numbers
could only go so far. The flesh was only skin deep.
The writer of the blog “Roles, Rules and Rolls”
introduced a useful set of terms that break down
the fluff/crunch divide: analog details, digital stats
and procedural instructions (Roger the GS, April
2012). Analog Details are the qualitative descriptions
of character and world that make up the fictional
universe. Digital Stats are the numbers behind them,
being fleshed out by the analog fluff. The Procedural
Instructions are “directions for running the adventure
in an if-then format. [For example,] in this room are
6 kobolds including a leader. If they detect the party
first, the leader will take 1 combat round to rally his
wary troops, and then charge headlong.” This kind
of instruction is useful for GMs who later want to run a
given module or scenario. They are instructions on how
to make the analog details meaningful.
ne common approach to role-playing is to look
at rules and mechanics as the skeleton of play,
and “fluff” as the details occasionally handed
out to keep the bones from sticking out. There
is a dismissive quality to fluff. If it’s not connected to
mechanics, if it doesn’t help increase your advantage
during play, it’s derided as “color.” Color and fluff are
terms used to describe the bits of role-playing games
that fill the space in between the important moments:
when you roll the dice, when you engage the rules.
That’s when what you do suddenly matters. Everything
in between is seen as filler.
However, there are four ways of relating to the fictive
material give different emphases with respect to the
fiction of the world:
•
fluff/color
•
mechanical leverage
•
fictional positioning
•
explorative
Let’s look at each approach.
These things have an effect downstream. The young
noble you used your Charisma stats to charm becomes
an important member of the rebellion. Your +2 bastard
sword breaks a spear cast at your head. The fiction you
describe (charming the noble, moving your sword)
triggers the use of stats and associated game mechanics.
The mechanics mediate the fiction in your favor (or
against, depending). We can say they are mechanically
leveraged. Rather than being details included for the
sake of atmosphere, these parts of the fiction connect to
quantified parts of the rules that let you negotiate with
someone else (the GM) to say, “I accomplish this.”
Welcome to the matrix, Neo. Fluff married to crunch
is the lever you need to move the world.
When you make moves that are purely mechanical
in nature (playing a hand of poker, rolling dice with no
reference to a game world) you improve your tactical
position, fluff free. Games without fiction, (such as
traditional card games like Gin and Rummy, or classic
board games like Chess and Go) are tactical in nature,
and what you do in them is all tactical positioning. All
crunch.
Fictional Positioning
When you look at games with a fictional component of a
specific and moment-to-moment nature, this narrative
component brings with it different capabilities and
different needs. Fiction builds upon itself. Role-playing
is an iterative process of building a shared and active
world of the imagination created by an interplay
between players, referenced to written texts and timely
usage of set procedures. Satu Helio describes the
complex nature of the narrative experience created
through role-play:
Mechanical Leverage
Row upon row of numbers. This page of fighters
from The Gallery of Rogues (TSR, 1980) was generated
as a miscellany of random characters that GMs could
call upon to throw into their games at a moment’s notice.
They’re bare bones, but the numbers communicated
to their users: high strength, low wisdom—this was the
fellow who’d been hit one too many times in the head,
that was the one who was going to make it home alive.
The numbers were a skeleton on which play crafted a
life, blew breath into the beings and set them on their
There’s a common approach to tabletop role-playing
games reflected in a skin and bones character. Players
interact with the world as it is presented by the GM. Many
things are described. Many of them are red herrings—
that is to say, they are fluff and are merely seen as
background details to hide the digital grid underlying
our words. But amidst the fluff, there are important facts to
be found. Who is my enemy? How are they armed? What
are the dangers here? Whom must I convince to the set
the revolution in motion?
Still, we must note that there is no actual story in the
game of the role-playing game, though there are
events, characters and structures of narrativity giving
the players the basis for interpreting it as a narrative....
We also have the ability to follow different kinds of
narrative premises and structures as well as imitate
them for ourselves to create more authentic and
suitable narrative experiences. (Helio, 2004)
With each word, the participants in a role-playing
game shape and mold a world that never existed before.
Each statement is reflected upon by the others at the
52
Five Fates of Fiction
by Epidiah Ravachol
Let’s imagine a unit of fiction. It’s a tiny thing with no
mass but full of potential energy. This unit is the smallest
useful bit of fiction derived from something uttered in a
role-playing game. Take something a fellow player (or
GM) says and divide it up into its component parts, and
then divide those parts again. You know you’ve reduced
the fiction to the size of these imaginary units the moment
you realize you can divide the fiction no further without
producing gibberish. Here’s an example:
“A gnarl-toothed goblin in a purple tunic carrying a
rusty cleaver limps over to you and demands to see your
trousers.”
We can winnow from this sentence the fact that there
is a goblin, he has gnarled teeth, a limp, carries a cleaver
that is rusty, wears a purple tunic, and wants to see our
trousers. Each of these is a unit of fiction.
Each of these units contain no mass, but they are full
of potential energy. Each of them is a boulder perched
precariously upon the edge of a grand cliff. Each eagerly
awaits its chance to fall and impact the fiction like the
canyon floor below. Just how and where it falls, what it
spends its potential energy on, is up to the system and the
players, and how they treat these boulders.
Some may fall straight down, taking only one path.
Others may bound along several paths before expending
all their energy. Others still may never fall. It is impossible
to tell with 100 percent certainty how any boulder is going
to behave until it has done so. The fate of each unit is
unknown until it is fulfilled. But let’s look at four potential
resting spots for these imaginary units of fiction.
Color/Fluff—This is the barest of the fates. Color is fiction
that exists solely to disguise the fact that we’re just doing
math exercises. If a goblin is nothing more than a bundle
of hit points to reduce and experience points to collect
upon said reduction, then all the imaginary units in our
statement are just fluff. The facts that he was a goblin,
that he was gnarled-toothed, that he wore a purple tunic,
that he walked with a limp, that he wielded a cleaver,
that the cleaver was rusty, that he makes demands, and
that he’s appears interested in your trousers all have no
meaning beyond their ability to distract you from the
endless tedium of reducing numbers.
Mechanical Leverage—This is when the system has
decided to place mechanical importance on the imaginary
units. A cleaver will do a certain amount of damage to
you, but a rusty cleaver means damage plus some nasty
effect. But that limp means you get a bonus to knock him
over! The path of Mechanical Leverage and the path of
Color are very close. They’re both there to essentially
disguise the fact that you’re playing a numbers game,
but Mechanical Leverage occurs when a system attaches
rewards, bonuses, effects and penalties to different bits
of the fiction in the hopes of influencing player behavior
and the fiction.
Fictional Positioning—Here our imaginary unit is used to
constrain and shape the nature of future fictional input. In a
world where only royalty may wear purple, the fact that our
goblin wears a purple tunic is going to shape the fiction that
will follow. Perhaps you will not be so eager to reduce his
hit points for fear of retaliation. Perhaps you feel obligated to
show him your trousers. Maybe you think him an imposter.
Maybe you will remain ignorant of the importance of the
purple tunic at the moment of your meeting, and will pay
the price later in the game. Like Mechanical Leverage,
you can use Fictional Positioning to maneuver the story in
directions that are advantageous to you. Unlike Mechanical
Leverage, the system isn’t necessarily backing your play.
Explorative—This is fiction that has captured your
attention on its own merit. Why a purple tunic on such a
lowly beast? Why the interest in your trousers? For that
matter, how did he get that limp? Sometimes we explore
fiction because we catch a whiff of some Mechanical
Leverage or Fictional Positioning to be had—perhaps this
feels like a trap and you don’t want to caught unaware.
Explorative imaginary units are bits of fiction that have
really and truly snagged our interest. Not because we
think we can get something out of them, but because
we’re genuinely curious to see how they’re going to play
out. Why don’t you show the goblin your trousers already
and so we can see what this is all about?
Audience Appreciation—Because sometimes we find
things amusing. Imaginary units that follow this path are
looking to get a rise of some sort out of the audience.
Perhaps to hit a comedic note, or a tragic note. Think of
a horror game and how many fictional details is spent on
creating a creepy or eerie atmosphere. Think of a dying
character’s final words aimed at producing tears. Think
of thousands upon thousands of jokes made breaking the
fourth wall of every game that have ever been played
ever. Just try not to think about what the goblin wants with
your trousers.
table (or online, or in live action, as the case may be).
What you say has meaning and effect independent
of whether or not mechanics are involved. The GM
describes a path in the woods that my party is taking. I
describe my character moving off from the beaten path,
farther and farther from my companions. Do I have to
roll on my Wilderness score, or does it just make sense
that my character gets lost? Once upon a time this was
how it worked:
You see, in Old School play... fluff is crunch.
The sandy floor, moist walls made of soft stone,
composition of the gate, and disposition of the
kobolds all can feed into the players’ improvised
plans and the DM’s improvised rulings. Critics of
“fluff” in adventure writing, already prejudiced by
that term, call it unnecessary.
Using Roger’s schema, the analog details can also
be organized into procedural instructions (formulated
by the GM) which indicate what the consequences
will be for certain types of interactions with the game
world. This mushrooms when you remove the singular
arbitration of the GM. In games where all players are
empowered to mirror and reflect effects of the world
for one another, it transcends a set of instructions one
might give to another to run a scenario. Instead, each
decision cascades into the next, creating a waterfall
of narrative experience, flooding outward into an
ever-changing fictional world. The fiction becomes a
basis for negotiating advantage that feeds into fictive
outcomes not necessarily mediated by mechanics or
stats. This is fictional positioning.
Larp and Fictional Positioning
Larp highlights this form of interaction. Once in play in a
larp, your portrayal of your character is the primary text
that the other players read to learn about your character.
There is a shadow, a penumbra between the “you” that
you portray—the character—and the character on paper.
This can be a problem for larp. The story you play out
might be seen as secondary or lesser than the story
written in the prepared background of the character,
or the story intended by the writers as implied by preset goals and connections. In all games there is an
element of retroactive attribution, making the narrative
experience into a story, whether it be in “my character
did this” war-stories, or post-larp spill sessions where
everyone hears about what went on in other people’s
experience of the same larp. But in larp, since there are
multiple streams of narrative experience happening in
parallel (rather than the single stream commonly found
in tabletop or Nordic freeform), the end of play is often
a time of massive sharing and significant retroactive
retribution. Players learn how their play informed the
experience of others, and how it is re-contextualized
by the intents of the larpwrights and the implicit story
in the libretto or game materials. This process can be
enriching, or lead to great disappointment at having let
down the expectations of the facilitators or other players.
Some schools of thought work to break down the
authority of the larpwright. Dogma 99 was an explicit
attempt to put authorship in to the hands of the players.
An evocative setting was presented by the designer,
but what it turned into was up to those in play. Their
imaginations reigned supreme and if it rose or fell, it
was theirs to claim for praise or blame.
Playing a larp is a multi-faceted experience. Look at
Nordic Larp and Leaving Mundania to get a sense of this
breadth. The fluff of the world is represented in a more
concrete manner in larp than in tabletop. The elements
of the character and world—the color—have real world
analogs. Larp is also primarily about in-character play
which places the emphasis on the players fictional
offerings. Mechanics similar to those used in tabletop
play are still employed in larp, for example, using cards
or rock-paper-scissors to settle conflicts, calling upon
powers, or comparing ability scores. However, there are
more and more additions of meta-techniques, particularly
in Nordic larps (such as the black box technique, where
an area is set aside for players to play out flashbacks,
fantasies, alternate futures, etc.), which focus back on the
fiction, rather than on quantified representations such as
ability scores.
The recent Nordic larp Mad About the Boy, run by
Lizzie Stark in Connecticut, worked in this vein. From
the casting that put (almost) all players into trios or
quartets to pre-game introductions and transparency
about the other characters in-play, to developing the
backstory of characters in collaboration with their triadmates in a workshop, to a schedule that allowed a great
deal of time for open-ended character interactions, to
a strong injunction to freely make up what we did not
know and an admonishment to listen to and build upon
what was shared with us by others about the world, it
was a glorious playing field for our imaginations and
our emotions.
54
Explorative Joy
Conclusions
This is the final view of fluff: simple explorative joy
in the fictional world. The analog details become the
goal. This style of play melds nicely with the others:
any part of the world can be connected to mechanical
procedures and stats. All of the fictive experiences
can be leveraged against other fictive experiences,
depending on how it is interpreted by the other players.
And any of it might be fluff pure as the driven snow:
purely atmospheric. The great thing in this view is that
atmosphere is valued and honored.
Disclosure: my earliest gaming days were dyed-inthe-wool explorative. I’ll come clean.
Going back to the early nineties when I started roleplaying, the first games I was involved in hammered
into my head the importance of the world over its
representations via quantified mechanics and digital
stats. I fell into the company of role-players who
decided that the fun parts were in-depth shared world
building, playing out characters’ lives and generally
seeing what kinds of crazy plot developed from seeing
the strongly motivated, segmented society that an Ars
Magica game encouraged.
It was a bit of serendipity that we stumbled on that
system. Embracing the concepts of troupe-style play as
found in Ars Magica, while rejecting or neglecting the
mechanical crunchy bits for the most part, our interest
was in seeing how the backstory and world informed
the characters’ choices as well as exploring the wildly
diverse assortment of motivations: the grogs who made
a good living but were contemptuous of their crazy
mage masters; the mages, some deeply enthralled
with their own magical pursuits, others tapped and
trapped into political maneuvering, others with their
own aspirations like helping the populous in order to
create a lasting legacy for their power or memory in the
world. Companions made their way pursuing loves and
ambitions, dangling amidst the mages as pawns, lovers,
and compatriots.
We spent much time with all the things that might
well be glossed over in a traditional tabletop RPG,
or worse, mechanically represented and blandly
presented as fait accompli. “You spent a season
working on learning the magical composition of plants
and rare earths used to make arcanely powerful
frescos. Bump yourself up a point in Creo and do you
want Herbam or Terram?” That works, it gets you
there, but what is lost is a world of choices, emotions,
bonding, challenges and momentary decisions that
make the characters people rather than broad sweeps
of probabilities. Making the brush strokes fine, to paint
a picture, gives you a whole different look at play.
The centrality of mechanical representation to much of
tabletop role-playing is embedded in the commonly
used terminology of “fluff” and “crunch.” As if the
details of who you meet, the needs, drives and emotions
of the characters, their quirks, loves and hatreds were
not what makes fiction—and life—compelling. Why
settle for less in our recreational fictive play? But as
bridges get built between different styles such as larp,
and people continue to accept new ways to play, we see
that the rules are there to help us create and that the
fluff is an essential component of play.
Fluff vs. Crunch means that the details of the world
only matter when connected to stats, or numbers. Fluff
can also be mechanically leveraged, meaning words
that affect the barely-hidden numbers, if discovered
amongst the atmospheric red herrings. If the fictional
elements matter and help the player gain advantage
even outside of mechanics—that is to say, if having
a gun matters even if you never have to fire it—this
is fictional positioning. Here, imaginative play is
convincing and gives you leverage in the scene by
its very presence. The final approach is explorative,
which is when the colorful details, the powerful tools,
the interior world and exterior expanses—matter for
their own sake. They may lend a helping hand when
you are trying to have effect, either by correlation with
mechanical advantage, or by their inter-relations with
other fiction. But the deepest enjoyment comes from
learning about them, and the engagement they give
yourself and the other players.
The terms Fluff and Crunch focus attention on one
viewpoint, but we are not looking deeply enough
into the beauty of role-play if we stick solely to that
approach. We’ll keep missing what’s right in front of
us. There are other ways to play, where the color is
the game.
References
and Further Reading
Advanced Dungeons & Dragons: The Rogues Gallery. Blume,
Brian with Dave Cook and Jean Wells. TSR Games. (1980:
Lake Geneva, WI).
Nordic Larp. Stenros, Jaakko and Markus Montola (eds). Fëa
Livia. (2010: Stockholm, Sweden.) http://nordiclarp.
wordpress.com/
Alleged Entertainment. Website, blog, larp archive and online
store. http://www.aegames.org/
LaTorra, Sage. “Fluff.” Syntax Error. Blog entry January 23, 2012.
http://www.latorra.org/2012/01/23/fluff/ [Ref. December
14, 2012]
Color. GNS Theory page. Wikipedia.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/GNS_Theory
[ref. November 28, 2012]
Leaving Mundania. Stark, Lizzie. Chicago Review Press. (2012:
Chicago, IL, USA) http://lizziestark.com/leavingmundania/
Dogma 99. A programme for the liberation of LARP. http://fate.
laiv.org/dogme99/en/
[ref. November 28, 2012]
Rifts. Kevin Siembieda, C. J. Carella, Kevin Long, Patrick
Nowak, Julius Rosenstein, et al. Palladium Games. 1990.
Mad About the Boy. Edland, Tor Kjetil, Margrete Raaum
and Trine Lise Lindahl. Original Libretto. http://
madabouttheboy.laiv.org/
[ref. November 28, 2012]
Roger the GS. “Analog, Digital, Procedural.” Blog entry April
14, 2012. Roles, Rules and Rolls.
http://rolesrules.blogspot.com/2012/04/analog-digitalprocedural.html
Fluff. Role Playing Geek Glossary. http://rpggeek.com/wiki/
page/RPG_Glossary#F
[ref. November 28, 2012]
Fluff. RPG Lexica D-E-F. RPGnet Wiki.
http://wiki.rpg.net/index.php/RPG_Lexica:DEF
[ref. November 28, 2012]
“Role-Playing: A Narrative Experience and a Mindset.” Helio,
Satu. In Beyond Role and Play. Markus Montola and Jaakko
Stenros (eds.) Ropecon ry. (2004: Helsinki, Finland)
http://www.ropecon.fi/brap/brap.pdf
Stark, Lizzie. “Mad About the Debrief.” Blog entry October 22,
2012. http://lizziestark.com/2012/10/22/mad-about-thedebrief/ [ref. November 28, 2012]
Universalis. Mike Holmes and Ralph Mazza. Ramshead
Publishing. 2004. http://ramshead.indie-rpgs.com/ [ref.
December 8, 2012]
Born on a dark Epimas night, Epidiah Ravachol
would grow up to become the creator of the Jenga-based
tabletop horror game Dread and co-creator of its familyfriend sibling Dread House. He is also responsible the
autobiographical game Time & Temp based on his
extensive travels in time and under-employment. Most
of his projects can be found at Dig a Thousand Holes
Publishing: www.dig1000holes.com.
Emily Care Boss (M.S.For.) is an independent
role-playing game designer/publisher and forestry
consultant living in western Massachusetts, USA. Her
designs include Breaking the Ice and Under my Skin
which won the player’s choice award at Fastaval in 2009.
An early participant at the Forge forums (indie-rpgs.com)
and a proponent of independent publishing, Emily founded
JiffyCon in 2006, a regional role-playing game convention
showcasing indie games. Editor of RPG = Role Playing
Girl (rpgirl-zine.blogspot.com/), a zine by and about
women in rpg gaming. Other essays of hers may be found
in Push: New Thinking about Role Playing; Playground
Worlds; http://2008.solmukohta.org/pub/Playground_
Worlds_2008.pdf and in Immersive Gameplay: Studies
in Role-Playing and Media Immersion. http://www.
mcfarlandpub.com/book-2.php?id=978-0-7864-6834-8
Emily’s games are found at Black & Green Games
(blackgreengames.com).
56
In the Beginning: Treasure Trap
Opening the Pandora Box of Larp
During the making of Treasure Trapped, a UK
documentary about Live-Action Role Play, filmmakers
Alex Taylor and Michael Surman looked into the
beginnings of the hobby at Peckforton Castle in
Cheshire, England.
P
eckforton Castle, in the North-West of England,
is an even more fitting birthplace for Live-Action
Role Play than many initially think. Despite what
many Treasure Trappers believe, Peckforton isn’t
actually a “real” castle, but a Victorian folly—a country
retreat constructed in the style of a Gothic fortress.
Like many eminent Victorians, Baron Tollemache, the
first Englishman to call Peckforton Castle home, was
swept up in the fascination with the medieval world
that followed the success of Walter Scott’s Waverley
novels. However, Tollemache’s enthusiasm for the Age
of Chivalry went much further than that of many of his
contemporaries, so much so that he approached Anthony
Salvin, the leading light of the Gothic revival, to build
him his own castle. It might be stretching the facts a little
to say that Tollemache was playing the Norman baron,
but it wouldn’t be completely missing the point.
One hundred and forty years later, long after the
Tollemache family had abandoned their fortress,
Treasure Trap moved in. Having witnessed the success
of Dungeons and Dragons, Bob Donaldson, Peter
Carey and John Carey acquired the lease on the castle,
commissioned a Chester-based War Games club to
design some quests and took out an advert in White
Dwarf, inviting budding adventurers to the castle. Then
they waited. The response was overwhelming. For
many, that April of 1982 was the dawning of Live Action
Role-Play as it stands today.
By today’s standards the game was pure “boffer.”
with more emphasis on Action than Role-Play. With
the help of the iconic British children’s TV show Blue
Peter, which visited the Castle in 1983, Treasure Trap
attracted approximately five thousand members and
spawned a host of imitators.1 However, due to economic
1. Nathan Hook, “The Children of Treasure Trap: History
and Trends of British Live Action Role-Play,” in Markus
Montola and Jaakko Stenros (eds.), Playground Worlds: creating
and evaluating experiences of role-playing games (Finland,
2008), p. 70.
difficulties of the early 1980s, many players opted to
play for free as monsters rather than paying to quest
as their own characters. Ultimately, Treasure Trap’s
business model was not financially viable, the company
folded in 1985 and the lease on Peckforton Castle went
onto the market. These days the Castle is an exclusive
hotel and wedding venue. Despite an expensive
refurbishment, many of the walls are still marked by
the paint that Treasure Trap’s players used to physically
represent the casting of spells.
Although the Castle is now a larp-free zone, the
memory of Treasure Trap weighs heavily in the UK
larp scene. Having played Treasure Trap at the Castle
in the 1980s is a mark of pride in the larp community
and many larp systems throughout the country can
trace their origins back to Treasure Trap. The larp
club at Durham University, for example, still calls itself
Treasure Trap, having been established in late 1983 to
arrange coaches for students to travel 150 miles to the
Castle on the weekend.
Whilst making our documentary, Treasure Trapped,
we have been trying to focus on the unexpected twists
and turns in the development of larp—not least that
in the Scandinavian world it has become a method
of teaching, something completely unheard of in the
UK. No matter how far our journey takes us into the
intricacies and developments of modern larp, we always
unearth the same core values: ideals of warmth and
community spirit; jokes and eccentricities; language
and rules; all of which have stayed with the hobby since
a group of people set out to acquire a Victorian folly in
Thatcher’s Britain and could only have dreamt of what
they’d create.
Treasure Trapped is a documentary film
from Cosmic Joke being released spring 2013. For further
information, release dates and videos please visit
www.cosmicjoke.co.uk
58
An interview with Ford Ivey about Larp Design
First, his Wikipedia Bio:
Ford Ivey, sometimes called the Grandfather of NERO,1
is the founder of several live action role-playing games,
including NERO International, Shandlin’s Ferry, Wildlands,
The Isles, a live version of Call of Cthulhu, and his newest
game, The Osiris Sanction. Ford is the recipient and
namesake of the LARPY Lifetime Achievement award, and
is the LARP Guest of Honor at Origins Game Fair in July,
2007.
After attending the University of Texas at Austin
school of Architecture, Ford Ivey worked in all parts of the
construction industry, doing everything from design to
supervisor of construction on some major projects in the
Boston area. He got disenchanted with the construction
industry and went back to one of his early loves, opening
The GameMaster, a full service game store In Arlington,
MA. This store had tables for playing roleplaying games
and miniatures. While doing this, he heard about a Live
Roleplaying game in New Hampshire called Mid Realms
Adventures, based on the Treasure Trap games in England.
While he enjoyed this game, he was convinced that it
could be done in a way that would allow more character
freedom of action. After running a series of games for a
couple of years in Sudbury, MA, under the umbrella of the
Explorer Scouts, he (with input and assistance from several
others) developed the idea of everyone playing the game:
everyone was someone else’s NPC. This event was known
as Shandlin’s Ferry, which was run in the fall of 1987 and
was the immediate predecessor to NERO.
NERO was a unique development in LARPing, based
on character growth and freedom of action. It grew far
more quickly than the organization could handle in those
early days, after an article appeared in Dragon Magazine,
written by Michael A. Ventrella. NERO suddenly had over
5,000 active members.
NERO began to expand with
new chapters quickly, starting
with one in New Jersey, called the
Ashbury Campaign. They later
broke off to form Alliance LARP.
Other early chapters were the
Pittsburgh chapter (now PRO), and
the Atlanta chapter, now running
a game based on an early set
of the NERO rules, now calling
themselves SOLAR.
Ford ran the first game to
own its own site dedicated to Live
Roleplaying in Ware, Massachusetts.
This site had 105 acres of woods
and fields and 27 structures, including an old New England
Inn, barns, and many cabins.
Ford sold the game in 1998 to Joe Valenti. After
overcoming health issues, Ford is now involved in several
new projects, including a new concept in LARP, The Osiris
Sanction.
Now let’s delve deeper into Ford’s past, which is also
one of the major tap roots of larp in America. NERO is
arguably the largest larp group in the United States,
roughly comparable to Dagorhir, Belegarth, and
Amtgard, but smaller than the Society for Creative
Anachronism, who steadfastly refuse to call their
activities larp anyway.
How did you get started in live action role playing?
I ran a Friday night D&D game in the basement of
a Boy Scout office (we started an Explorer Scout group
just for this purpose) for a couple of years. Then we
heard about a game in New Hampshire called MidRealms Adventures. Mid-Realms, in turn, was based
on a game in the UK called Treasure Trap. Mid-Realms
was a module-based game, boffer combat, and hit-by
–location damage. The magic system was very minimal.
These were, it turns out, virtues. Simplicity is always a
virtue in game design. It actually became a paintball
game, but they ran combination events with boffer and
paintball occasionally. I don’t know if they currently
exist. One of the founders, though, played NERO for a
few years, and complained about it consistently. He was
very enthusiastic about a live version of Call of Cthulhu
I ran about six times. That was much smaller and a more
intense (and deadly) game.
We set out to make our game as complex as we
could. The D&D game I was running
at the time was based in a city, and I
had images of that sort of game, so I
wanted it to be big. Mid-Realms was
a small group of players wandering
about looking for whatever trouble
they could get into, followed by a
Marshall who informed them of the
ways the fantasy world they were in
differed from the world they could
see. The Marshall made judgments
calls about the rules. I found it to be
very restrictive and not the game I
wanted to run, so I set out to make
the game I wanted.
I got together a great group and
we began to design that game. Something I wanted
was a system by which we could add in fantasy skills,
things that enabled a character to do more than the
player could do. I wanted to allow players to become
great Warriors, amazing Wizards, and stealthy Thieves,
all the staples of epic fantasy. This meant a vastly more
complex set of game rules.
So we came up with a system that allowed the
character to augment their native abilities, and allow
that augmentation to increase over time. The scale of
the augmentation and the speed that the power of that
augmentation went up was an issue, and it took a couple
of years to get that to the point that the scale of the
power increase from a rules perspective was…well, not
right, but minimally acceptable.
We ran the games at Nobscot Scout Reservation
(Framingham, Massachusetts) for a couple of years,
working it out as we went along. The Explorer Scout
group we started for D&D gaming ran the larp as well.
The very first game was a group of players essentially
hosted by the Explorers working as production team
and NPCs.
that they turned into a paste in the rain. The worst of
it was that everyone ended up covered in corn starch,
an issue when people wanted to put together good
looking costuming, which we wanted to encourage. So
we dropped the exploding packet idea and went to reusable packets filled with birdseed, which made them
recyclable.
Did you try other techniques from other larp groups?
We only had Mid-Realms to compare ourselves to,
and, to be honest, we didn’t rise to their level in those
early games. In fact it took us a couple of years before
we had an event whose production values rivaled theirs.
We were largely divorced from the larp world at large.
Most of what we did was original, and we invented it for
our own use. The fact that in many cases others came up
with similar conclusions doesn’t diminish the validity of
our process. The general approach to the game, though
was, in our view far preferable to Mid-Realms, with our
emphasis on individual freedom of action and only using
a Marshal for closed adventures.
Eventually we became aware of Hero Quest in the
UK and the IFGS [International Fantasy Gaming Society,
What was your system like for representing magic
inspired by IFGS in the book Dream Park by Larry Niven
and other things people can’t do in real life?
and Steven Barnes.—ed.] here in the States. I read as
much as I could find about Hero Quest, but it all seemed
We started with, believe it or not, Party Poppers
to
be disjointed and inconsistent. The IFGS seemed to
as our magic system. If you are unfamiliar with
have a Mid-Realms type of structure (a closed course
these, they are things you might use at New Years’ for
and no character bridge from event to event) and their
celebration—a champagne bottle-looking thing about
Magic system was just bizarre, depending on players
two inches long that you pulled one end off of, causing
wearing different colors so a mage could designate a
a minor explosion that blew a bunch of confetti out the
target for his spell by hollering the predominant color
other end. It pretty much ruined the whole feeling of a
sleep spell, and they didn’t work that well if they got wet, of the target. They were also heavily dependent on a
Marshal’s involvement, which is exactly what we were
but hey… it was sort of magic-like. They left a mess that
trying to get away from.
we had to clean up and they were expensive and hard
to find, so we then tried the next, clearly obvious choice:
We worked hard at that last. We got rid of the
Silly String.
senseless mindsets we started with, and worked on what
could and could not be represented in a self-marshaled
Silly String is a can that sprays a thread of foam
game, like no flying or invisibility spells. It’s not
looking stuff out about ten feet on a calm day. This
reasonable, in the latter case, to expect a player to stand
stuff would stick to you but dissolve quickly. The idea
there and act as if he’s unaware of an enemy “sneaking”
was that you could cast spells until you ran out of Silly
up on him in plain sight and not react to him. In the
String… which was no fun if the nozzle on your can
case of the former, the only way to represent a flying
broke.
character was to have him walking around and by some
We finally settled on spell packets. These were
means keeping track of how high he is supposed to be.
originally tissue paper with a spoonful of flour in them,
If he needs to fly over a wall, now we need to find a way
which we quickly changed to corn starch. We liked
through the wall at ground level, and the problems start
this because if you handled it right the packet would
there. Scrying spells (and Obfuscate spells to counter
explode upon impact and mark the target and give a
them), Truth spells, and many others were tried and
nice smoke effect. That was the good of it; they had a
thrown out.
lot of downside, too, not the least of which was the fact
60
improvements. I figure that the rules are now about the
equivalent of a 1958 Edsel.
Lots of little things got thrown into the game design
that hung on in odd ways. One of those, for instance, was
the means by which we marked a person who was “out
of game,” as in not there in game terms. The convention
was originally to have a white headband that marked
you as not there. This had some issues, as someone
wearing a white hat caused confusion. A quicker method
evolved, which was to hold your sword above your head,
making you clearly unready for combat. This evolved
over the years to just holding your hand over your head.
I never really approved of that, as it was sometimes
unclear what your status was, but there you go: the game
is an organic thing and such things arise spontaneously.
“The ‘First weekend’ was actually the second, and that was about a third of the total attendees. It was taken after the event had ended
and many had already left, but it does include many of the founders of the game, including me and Mike Ventrella.” Photo: Ford Ivey
How did you handle character development and
advancement?
We reached an event late in our first year where
we put it all together and actually wrote a game system
which included hit points by class and level, different
skills divided by class, and increasing skills and
abilities depending on the time you spent in the game.
This started a whole new round of silliness. We were
sort of mind-locked into D&D, and had our healers (we
avoided religion in the game, being rather close to the
Bible belt) unable to use edged weapons, for instance.
This in retrospect made no sense, and was removed
after a while.
We gave the players points by which we could
measure their game experience. We started by giving
them a block of points for attending an event. Simple.
Then we decided that just coming wasn’t sufficient to
reward someone, so we started giving those points to
those who survived an event. That proved to be a bad
choice, as it rewarded those who hid in their cabin all
weekend and not those that were out there being heroic.
So then we gave the monsters little chits that they
handed to the player who killed them. That sort of made
sense, so of course we needed to change it. We decided
that some things would reward a fighter type person,
but not a thief, a healer but not a wizard, and so on. We
made several different types of reward points to be
handed out according to a very arcane set of rules we
came up with. So that didn’t work.
Then we went for simple again: you got a base
number of points for just showing up to the event, plus
another number if you could turn in game money to buy
more points. The money became our replacement for
those experience points we handed out before, but now
those points had further use in that they could be used
to buy stuff in the game. This was an eventual nightmare,
too, of course.
Now we add in the “Goblin Point.” These are points
we gave out for doing things for the game: setup,
cleaning, working in the kitchen, and so on. They were
Goblin Points because, see, there used to be Green
Stamps, you know? Green Stamps were an incentive
program where a retailer would give “green stamps” to
customers, which were turned in at redemption centers
for stuff. And goblins are green, so… that would be
funny. It was a joke we would NEVER get tired of.
(sigh)
We eventually got rid of the class system and went
to a skill based system, which I was told on several
occasions would never work. It actually did work pretty
well, in spite of being rather complex. There are simpler
ways to do this, of course, but they were developed
over the years, in many cases, by other games. We
tried to fix the game, we really did. I have said on more
than one occasion that when we started NERO, it was a
Model T Ford. We tried to make it better, but we couldn’t
shut it down while we did, so we were stuck trying
to fix the car as we drove it down the road. We made
How did NERO become a business?
NERO was a business of sorts from the first game
that bore that name. We rented a campground, had
liability insurance and so on. I paid the bills and bore
the financial risk for the thing, though I was far from the
only person involved in running the game.
We rented campgrounds all over the place. But I got
really tired of taking everything down and packing it
all away after every event, and then, at the start of the
next event, getting it all back out and setting it up. That’s
a lot of work, especially when you rely on volunteers to
do it. I wanted to get a permanent site. I spent a couple
of years looking and finally was able to make a deal to
buy a place in Ware, MA. We signed the deal on January
1, 1993. We ran an event there the next month with the
water not on and the heat pretty unreliable, but we did
it, and it was successful. As the spring arrived, we found
that there were many issues with the camp, but the good
stuff was great. I now had places to store everything, I
could set up things like the Tavern and leave it set up,
and everyone knew where things were. We did that in
1993, and ran there until I left the game in 1998.
What happened to the campground?
We lost it when I left the game. My ex-wife and I sold
it to Joe Valenti in 1998. I lost the camp in the divorce
at about that time and got out of gaming for a while,
with severe health issues and, frankly, a large case of
burnout. I had been running games pretty much seven
days a week for almost ten years. I had to leave for the
issues I mentioned, and because I felt that there were
some legal issues that were coming up that I didn’t
have the resources to handle, and Joe apparently did. I
felt that if I did not meet them I would be violating the
contracts I had signed with the other chapters, and I was
trying to honor those.
What do you think propelled NERO’s success
through the mid-90’s?
NERO began at a time when there were no other
games like it in the USA except Mid-Realms. NERO
grew so quickly because of three factors: First, the
continuing universe/individual action model. Second, I
recruited for the game from my game store in the Boston
metropolitan area and at the gaming conventions we
attended as the store. The third major factor was Mike
efar faster that we could handle them, truth be told. It
made us develop into a national organization quickly.
Since we got under way, there are around 50 games of a
type similar to NERO in the New England area.
What happened after you left NERO?
A couple of years later, after having lost a lot of
weight and recovered my interest in gaming, I worked
on a new game called The Isles with Aidrian O’Connor.
We got it up and running in a year or so, the rules
reflecting the things I thought were wrong with the rules
in NERO. The game ran well. The first campaign ran
for five years before retiring, and a second campaign
based on that first one still is running in central
Massachusetts. It was more or less successful, though
never to the extent that NERO was.
After The Isles, I got interested in a new concept
that Aidrian brought to me. It was a game that you were
playing all the time, one that sort of ran parallel to your
real life, and let you interact with it when you wished to.
It would be out there with other players interacting with
it, and you could step into it and take up the challenge
for whatever time you had, and be this “other” person
for that time…a sort of alternate you in a universe of
mystery, misdirection, conspiracy, and hidden powers.
It was you and your friends fighting a powerful and nearomnipresent foe.
This would be The Osiris Sanction.
The fight takes place in the real world, many times.
You have to discover what evil is afoot and thwart it. But
first, you get a message that gave you a person and
place to meet, and you go there. This is a real world
person in a real world location. You role-play that
meeting, giving the information your contact sought to
establish your own identity, perhaps a password, and
so on. You’ve seen this scene in many a spy movie. Let
him know you’re the guy, and he gives you information.
You need to gather a lot of that sort of information, and
put it all together to figure out what’s going on. Once
you identify the plot, you need to go into the lair of the
enemy and cut the thread that leads to the undesirable
outcome.
The lair of the enemy is a virtual computer world.
We put the player into a simulation of a near-perfect
virtual world to fight the security bots and defeat the
other security measures to get to the point of foiling the
enemy. There will be fighting and disarming bombs,
hacking and picking locks, healing devices and all the
rest, actually in your hands. We have the most advanced
laser tagging system in the world, as well as cool
supplemental devices like bombs and medic kits and
hacking devices for the players to play with.
To get an idea of how this game works, look at the
story of a run: “A Coyote’s Story” and read the article
about us in Turnstyle.
We’ll be running a full game at Vericon in
Cambridge, MA on the weekend of March 16, 2013, and
again at Gen Con in Indianapolis on the weekend of
August 15 through 18, 2013.
The most advanced laser tagging system in the
world? More than the U.S. military’s MILES?
Our system is based on the MILES system. The best
thing the Army has going for it over ours is that they
use actual weapons, shooting blanks. Past that, ours
can do anything theirs can do and a few other tricks as
well. Ours shoot lasers that carry information about the
damage each round does when it hits you. The range of
ours is about 300 yards, but we can adjust the beam to
simulate any bullet type from a sniper rifle to a shotgun.
We can set whether or not you can shoot a team mate,
what sound pallet it will use, how many “life” points
you carry, armor (cuts the specified number of hits
damage in half), how many rounds a clip will hold, how
many clips you carry, how long it takes to change clips,
automatic, burst or semi-automatic fire, how fast the gun
will fire (time between rounds on automatic fire), bleed
out time which allows us to get a medic to the wounded
person, and a few other things. We also have grenades
and claymores, bombs attached to tripwires and a
few other things in development. They can do an area
affect attack and we can’t past a local area like a hand
grenade, but other than that, we have everything they
have, more reliable, and a whole lot cheaper.
Later, Ford contacted colleague Annie for more info
via email, the exchange as follows:
Annie got back to me just a minute ago from her
phone. I asked her Hey, kid… you have told me a few
times that the system we have is better than the one the
Army uses. In what way is that true? I want to be able to
support the claim that ours is better. Ford
Her answer:
“It’s lighter, it looks better, more accurate. The stuff
they issued me didn’t even work.”
Larpers are a strange
bunch who are proud
of the quirkiness
of their hobby
What do you see in the current state of larp,
and the future of it?
All of this [Osiris Sanction] is a blueprint for a new
profession: a larp professional. The financial model
for this indicates a lot of money to be made. We’ll be
targeting the console gamers and the paintballers and
airsoft crowd. Gaming on a computer or game console
used to be seen as a geek thing to do, but now, games
like this generate billions of dollars a year for the
companies that put them out.
In recent years, I have been invited to sit in on the
formation of new games. I see people full of ideas and
energy and certain they know what will fix the game.
They usually make it worse. When I try to point out
that it is not going in a good direction, they are certain
they know better than I do. Maybe they will, one day.
There certainly have been wonderful developments in
game design since I left NERO. But by and large, the
same mistakes get repeated over and over, and worse,
usually.
Larp is a vibrant, energetic, and, above all,
creative form of expression. There’s a lot of room
in it for a lot of different sorts of games. The people
who run those games are allowed to do it any
way they wish. However, I have an idea of what is
possible with this sort of thing, and I really want to
see us approximate that at some point while I can
still appreciate it. I’m still in there, trying, and I can
see that there are many others doing it as well. I am
amazed at the things people come up with and I look
at each one, wondering if this is that new game that
carries us forward a few more steps. I’ve seen that
happen a couple of times, and it’s always very exciting.
But, of course I’m convinced I know better than anyone
else how it really should be done. I am very interested
in taking larp into the mainstream. In fact, I want to
make it into a viable business, making the same sort of
transition that paintball and video games have made.
The Osiris Sanction gun system.
Which new things do you think brought
us forward a few steps?
Keep in mind that I have been pretty isolated while
developing my games. Lately that’s been on purpose: I
want to try to do original work and not board someone
else’s bandwagon. But games that I think have driven
larp forward? I’d have to say the whole theater style has
driven the hobby on one entire flank, and the SCA has
driven it on the other. I’d throw in Dagorhir and Amtgard
on (generally) the SCA flank.
A huge influence has been the White Wolf games,
of course. When I talk about larp, when I find someone
who says they know what it is, they usually mean a
White Wolf game. ARGs are a new thing, when applied
to larp…that is an area I intend to exploit that I think has
been hardly touched.
Andy French is running a new version of a live Call
of Cthulhu game, called the Lovecraft Legacies. He’s
used some of my old ideas as well as a bunch of new
game mechanics to bring the game to life. He’s getting
great reviews. But the single biggest set of new ideas
that I admire is Rob Ciccolini’s Accelerant game system.
To quote from his web site:
The core rules are comprehensive, easy to learn, and
infinitely flexible—game effects are defined totally
outside the individual game. This means that players
who are familiar with the core rules will already
understand the system, which allows you to get
players involved quickly, and create skills specific to
your game without cumbersome rules updates.
Since Accelerant games completely divorce flavor
(called traits) from in-game effects, it is simple to
create creatures in a fanciful and flavored way.
It’s an example of how rules should work: A simple,
predictable framework such that any new rule has a
structure that a player will find familiar, allowing him
to assimilate it quickly. The system allows for a huge
amount of flavor and variation. In my opinion, it’s a
blueprint for larp rule systems of the future for a NEROstyle game.
I’ll also say that The Osiris Sanction represents
a whole new level of rules: a game system that you
wear. All the effects, all the accounting, all the timer
functions, indeed, the whole game (with a couple of
exceptions) is contained in equipment you just put on.
Those exceptions are that you have to understand what
the red light means when it comes on, what the green
means, and what the amber means, for example. We’re
just getting started on where this will lead us. I think it’s
really pretty exciting.
How close are we to larp entering mainstream
America? Are we there yet?
No, we’re not there yet, though I think the stage is
set. We need to take the nerd factor out of it and make
it a cool thing, though of course us nerds can still enjoy
it, too. Again: look at the way that video gaming was
seen by the public in the early 90s, and look at the way
it’s viewed today.
Larpers are a strange bunch who are proud of
the quirkiness of their hobby. As it goes mainstream,
larpers will resist and complain about how this new
form just isn’t like the old days. They will be right. But
a mainstreamed industry gives a lot more options for
fun as more and more money comes into it. There is no
reason that the old school larpers can’t continue to play
the games they love…but you don’t see many video
gamers sitting home nights playing Zork.
64
Over Time
Intercon and the evolution of theatre-style larp in the Northeast
by Nat Budin
Intercon and the
Northeast larp scene
Greetings from the frozen Northlands! The landscape
is blanketed in a picturesque sheet of fluffy white snow,
the trees sit leafless and solemn, and teams of dogs
pull sleds across the tundra, their flannel-clad masters
shouting “mush!” Between the ice-capped cottages and
the abominable snowmen, larpers lurk, hidden, but
watching, always watching, and larping.
New England has long been a hotbed of innovation
in theatre style larp, and in recent years, the Intercon
conventions have been the standard-bearer for the New
England theatre-style scene. Intercon is a series of alllarp conventions hosted by various regional groups at
locations including Maryland, Southern California, New
Jersey, and even on a cruise ship in the Caribbean.
Intercon New England is one of the biggest and
longest-running Intercons. Hosted by New England
Interactive Literature (NEIL), a non-profit corporation,
it takes place in the Boston area every March. New
England Intercons can be recognized by their use
of letters to denote the year (the 2013 convention is
Intercon M).
The New England Intercons have benefited greatly
over the years from a symbiotic relationship with the
local college larp scenes, drawing games and players
from MIT, Harvard, Brandeis University, and Worcester
Polytechnic Institute, among others. Intercon larps have
both influenced the style of larp at these institutions and
been influenced by them.
The face of larp in New England has changed a great
deal over the years, and that change is still ongoing. In
my opinion, it’s important to understand where we
came from, and in that effort, I interviewed several
prominent figures in the Intercon community. What
follows is a brief history of theatre-style larp in the
Northeast with a focus on Intercon, as well as a
discussion of changes, trends, and directions for the
future.
The early days:
MIT, SIL, and the TSFL era
Two of the earliest organized larp groups in New
England were the MIT Assassins’ Guild and Harvard’s
Society for Interactive Literature (SIL). Both groups
were actively running larps by the early 1980s, and
the Assassins’ Guild is still active today. Both were
instrumental in the evolution of theatre-style larp.
The earliest Assassins’ Guild events were “circle
games” (otherwise known as Assassin or killer games),
in which the goal was simply to be the last player left
alive. An account of one such game from 1995 by Andy
Ellis paints a general picture: “Dean shot Matt in the back
behind senior house. Dean falls to his contact poisoned
doorknob... Joi’s mailbox at ESC blows up thanks to
Greg’s Oreo Cookie mousetrap bomb...” and so on.
By 1983, the Guild had branched out to more
narrative larps. 1983 was also a watershed year for
SIL. At Boskone XX, a major science fiction convention
in Boston, SIL produced its first public event, Rekon-1.
According to the Boskone program book, Rekon-1 is “a
‘real-life’ roleplaying game involving a large number
of participants,” involving “a maze of secrecy and
deception.”
Rekon-1 has been cited as the first modern theatrestyle larp by several sources.1 The game ran alongside
the rest of the convention over the course of the entire
weekend, and contained several tracks of puzzles, each
one leading to another, as well as a great number of
secret factions, hidden identities, widget hunts, clashing
genres, and an overarching plot involving the possible
destruction of the Earth.
Rekon-1 begat a series of follow-ups (titled Rekon-2,
Rekon-3, etc.) as well as a parallel series of larps called
Reklone. The original Rekon was later rewritten by SIL
West (a California group that split from SIL in the 1990s)
and published in a book by Chaosium under the name
Nexus (not to be confused with several other similarlytitled larps) [I just bought a copy of Nexus on ebay.—ed.].
In 1986, SIL began running its own weekend-long
conventions under the name SILiCON. SILiCONs I
through III ran in Massachusetts, and over the years
the convention moved slowly down the east coast until
it ended up in Annapolis, Maryland for SILiCON VI.
The format of SILiCON conventions was a group of all1
For example, Walt Freitag talks about it in this forum
post, and Greg Costikyan mentions it in A Short History of
Paper Gaming.
CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Cyndy Cooper in Muppet Purgatory
at Intercon H. Photographer: Beth Baniszewski
Laura Boylan as Rainbow Brite in Saturday Morning Massacre
at Intercon C. Laura is the co-chair of the upcoming Intercon M.
Photographer: a random con-goer that Laura handed her camera to
Joshua Sheena and Nuance Bryant in Oh God, Everybody’s Dying! at
Intercon H. Photographer: Haz Harrower-Nakama
Alex Bradley and Nat Budin playing in Mahabharata at
Intercon XXI. Photographer: Laura Boylan
From SILiCON to Intercon
weekend (or “theatre-style full-length,” “TSFL” for short)
larps running alongside one another. Attendees were
playing different games simultaneously in different parts
of the hotel.
During this time period, the weekend-long was
the predominant form of theatre-style larp in the
Northeast. Weekend-long larps were produced not
just for conventions and college gaming clubs, but
also at independent venues such as hotels and homes.
Tim Lasko, a longtime Intercon organizer, describes
one such series of larps: “These infamous games,
run by George and Roberta Berry, would run for an
entire weekend in an off-season Vermont hotel where
everyone was totally immersed (and costumed) in their
role. Of course, during the weekend, a body would
fall and the several of the players would be invested in
finding the solution but all of the players in the game
had other plot to work on, often with no relationship to
the main murder.” Jeff Diewald, who led the effort to
bring Intercon to New England, elaborates on reading
one character sheet from the Berrys’ mystery larps:
“Let me be absolutely clear. I’ve seen a lot of character
sheets, for games of all lengths. This sheet was a better
character sheet than in most ‘modern’ larps. This was a
full-fledged larp, by everything we know today. These
games were real-time, real-space games, with minimal
mechanics. The GMs played full-time characters with
plots, flaws and foibles.”
As SILiCON grew, its membership expanded and grew
the hobby of theatre-style larp in the Northeast. Weekendlong games flourished up and down the coast. Some
notable examples from this period include Shakespeare’s
Lost Play, the Covention series, and RMS Titanic. The scene
centered primarily around the Baltimore/Washington
area, where SILiCON ran, and the Boston area, where SIL
had originated.
By 1991, SIL was a Boston-based organization with a
highly mid-Atlantic membership, running conventions
in the mid-Atlantic region. In retrospect, a schism seems
almost inevitable.
That year, the SIL board voted to change the
organization’s name to the Interactive Literature
Foundation. SIL continued at Harvard as a larp writing
group, and separately, SIL West continued to run
weekend-long larps in California. SILiCON, now under
the auspices of the newly-formed ILF, changed its name
to Intercon and continued to run annually in the midAtlantic region.
It is worth noting as well that during this time
period, the MIT Assassins’ Guild continued more or less
independently. At MIT, while weekend-long games were
common, ten-day games were also a staple. These larps
tended to run over the course of two weekends and the
intervening week, often over school breaks. By some
accounts, weekend-long games were considered short
by MIT standards.
66
The short-form era
Much like larp itself, there is no one inventor of
the short-form theatre-style game. Rather, it was
simultaneously created by many groups at once.
Jeff Diewald was writing short-form larps as early as
1986. Finding himself unable to get in off the waitlist for
the Berrys’ Vermont-based hotel murder mysteries, he
decided to produce his own. The result was Sex, Drugs
and Rock & Roll, a murder mystery taking place at a
party hosted by a rock band. According to Diewald, “I
didn’t know if I could write enough for a weekend, or if I
could find people who would commit to a weekend with
me... I figured an evening would be a good duration
that might be doable.” The game was successful
enough that Diewald and his writing group produced
two sequels as well as many other games.
Intercon 7.5, a smaller Intercon convention in 1992,
was the first convention exclusively devoted to shortform larps and panels. It included five larps, one of which
(Miskatonic Class Reunion by Mike Young) spawned a
trilogy of popular Lovecraftian games. The success of 7.5
led to 1994’s Intercon 9.5, also devoted to shorter games,
which was over twice the size of its predecessor. (During
the 90s and early 2000s, the “point five” Intercons were
a series of officially sanctioned side conventions that ran
approximately six months after the annual conventions,
which got roman numerals.)
For many larpers and larp writers, the game that
proved the form could work was Jim MacDougal’s The
Final Voyage of the Mary Celeste. Set on a historical
doomed sailing vessel in the 19th century, Mary Celeste
has run literally hundreds of times around the world.
It wasn’t the first of its kind, but it was chaotic, fun, and
good. Echoing Brian Eno’s famous remark about the
Velvet Underground, everyone who played it wrote a
four-hour larp.
The period between 1994 and 1998 saw weekendlong games and short-form games coexisting in
parallel universes. Gordon Olmstead-Dean notes in
his history of the Intercon name that “1995-1998 was
also the ‘Golden Age’ of the hotel based Theatre Style
Full Length game.” Notable examples included 1897:
The Queen’s Diamond Jubilee, the Dark Summonings
campaign, and Olmstead-Dean’s own Four Aces.
But during this period at Intercon, short-form games
took over quite quickly. In 1995, Intercon X had a
weekend-long game simultaneous with several shorter
games, and the same was true of 1996’s Intercon XI. Jeff
Diewald contrasts his experience at Intercon XI with his
friend’s: “[He] signed up for the weekend long game,
which I think had some kind of cyberpunk theme. On the
other hand, I signed up for a slate of the shorter games...
his weekend had dragged along, with nothing notable.
I’d played in five different games, every one of them was
different, and every one of them was brilliant.”
The Intercon
conventions have
become a hub for
independent theatrestyle larp, and several
new and experimental
forms have become a
part of the fabric
Diewald concludes that “As a writer and a GM, it’s a lot
easier to be brilliant in four hours. As a player... if you
pick several shorter games, you’re much more likely
to have a good experience in at least one of them.” Jim
MacDougal concurs: “Players discovered that mini-s
[short-form larps] were fun with lesser risks; if the
game sucked you had 4 or 5 more chances to save your
weekend.”
The college scene
In New England, much of the theatre-style larp in the
1990s took place on college campuses. This stands to
reason, given the Boston area’s wide array of universities
and the history of larp at Harvard and MIT.
One influential game was Etherlines: The Morning
After (TMA for short). Written by Don Ross, TMA is a
weekend-long larp in which the characters wake up with
amnesia, remembering nothing but their names, and are
given memories on index cards as the game progresses.
TMA always runs on college campuses, and has run over
twenty times since it was written. For many in the local
scene, it was their first introduction to larping.
Chad Bergeron, a longtime Etherlines staff member,
suggests that TMA “had a strong impact on building
larping communities at various schools, both as a
weekend long shared experience, and as a way for
larpers of different generations from the same school
to help bring larping to the next generation.” TMA has
run at many schools in the region, including Worcester
Polytechnic Institute, MIT, Brandeis, Wellesley, and
Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute.
Etherlines was a style innovator in that it was one
of the first amnesia larps in the New England scene,
if not the first. Hot on its heels, however, was Tabula
Rasa, which debuted in July 1996 at Dexcon in New
Jersey. Mark Waks, one of the game’s three creators,
remembers: “While we were still talking about TR, Don
Ross came out with The Morning After. That scared the
snot out of us, fearing that our thunder had been well
and truly stolen, so Alexx [Kay] went and played in the
first run, to see what it was like. He reported back to
us... and we decided that the two games were different
enough to not be redundant.”
According to Waks, one of the differences between
Tabula Rasa and other amnesia larps is that TR “is a game
with amnesia, but not a game about it.” At its core, the larp
is “actually a suspense/politics/espionage game, where
everyone is desperately trying to put the pieces together
without letting the situation come apart at the seams.”
Tabula Rasa was widely acclaimed and was followed by a
spiritual sequel the following year, which has run multiple
times since. Other prominent amnesia-based games
have followed in years since, including Straitjackets
Unlimited’s popular Jamais Vue series.
Another very popular style of larp also began in the
1990s: that White Wolf’s Mind’s Eye Theatre system.
Developed as a larp adaptation for the company’s
popular Vampire: The Masquerade tabletop RPG, Mind’s
Eye Theatre grew to international prominence, and MET
groups sprung up at colleges everywhere. For various
reasons, though, the cross-pollination one might expect
never seems to have happened: seasoned larpers
weren’t interested in Vampire games, and people
reading the White Wolf books had no reason to suspect
a wider larp scene beyond the World of Darkness.
Return to New England
By the late 1990s, Intercon was firmly rooted in the midAtlantic region—every Intercon from 1991 through 1997
had been held in either New Jersey or Maryland. Yet the
flame started by SIL and the Assassins’ Guild was still
burning. The college-based scene had kept interest in
independent theatre-style larp alive in New England.
In 1996, Jeff Diewald called a meeting at his friend
Charley Sumner’s home. He recalls: “There were
around a dozen people who showed up. No one knew
everyone else in the room. It stayed that way until
Uncle Don [Ross] walked into the room—he was the
only one who knew everyone. I organized things; the
management structure you see today, well, I know
where it came from because I put it in place.”
Diewald wrote up a bid proposal for the ILF. In it,
he cited “a growing contingent of larp enthusiasts in
the Northeast, scattered in numerous enclaves.” He
proposed to reach out to these communities and pull
together a convention, which he hoped would attract at
least 70 attendees. The bid was accepted, and Diewald
describes what happened next: “When we passed 100
[pre-registered attendees] late in 1997, we were ecstatic,
but I knew we were already stretched. The signups
accelerated in January. There was more begging, asking,
insisting, demanding, and such for games... we more than
doubled in size between January and the con.”
After 18+ months of preparation, Intercon XIII, with
Diewald as con chair, ran in March 1998 in Natick,
Massachusetts. It was the first Intercon in New England
since the SIL days. The schedule included over 25 shortform larps in addition to other events such as a buildyour-own-game workshop, a dance party, and a poker
tournament. Intercon XIII also brought in events from
the local NERO and Mind’s Eye Theatre communities. Its
final attendee count was 223, breaking Intercon records
by a significant margin (Intercon 14.5, the previous
record-holder, having topped 170).
Intercon XIII established three important traditions
for subsequent New England Intercons, which have
taken place annually since then. First, it was a team
effort from the beginning, with a leadership structure
similar to the current NEIL con committee. Second,
after the convention, Diewald deliberately stepped
aside in order to let someone else be con chair for XIV,
and since then, only two people (Chad Bergeron and
Tim Lasko) have served as con chair twice. Finally,
Intercon XIII established ties with the local college larp
communities from the start, and those ties have kept
the flow of new attendees steady to this day.
Death of the weekend-long
By 1999, according to Gordon Olmstead-Dean, it was
obvious that the weekend-long larp was, for all intents
and purposes, dead. Weekend-longs were rarely seen
at Intercon any longer: Intercon XI had included one,
but no subsequent Intercon did, with the exception of
XV. Independent TSFL games at hotels had also more
or less stopped by that point. They continued to run in
the college communities for a while longer, but for the
exceptions of Etherlines and the Assassins’ Guild, were
mostly unheard of by the mid-2000s.
Theories abound as to what killed the format. It’s
tempting to blame Intercon itself as the center of a
vicious cycle: once the predominant format at Intercon
68
shifted, more and more writers began to create games
specifically for Intercon, which took away resources
that might otherwise have been spent writing weekendlong games. Similarly, it helped drive a change in the
collective consciousness of the larp writing community.
According to Mark Waks, “What folks started realizing
was that you could tell a good, tight story in four
hours—often a much more intense story than you would
get in a full weekend.” Chad Bergeron adds that the
lower barriers to completion on a short-form game
have made that the preferred format, since all-larp
conventions have become “a showcase, and so it has a
higher social or emotional cost for a GM to not be there
or to have to withdraw.”
Both Jim MacDougal and Gordon Olmstead-Dean
argue that the format has only itself to blame for its
decline. MacDougal points out that “even at their best,
weekenders have some inherent problems. There is
a lot of down time, you can’t run something balls to
the wall for 3 days. This works if the game is a side
event hosted at an SF convention, you can drop out for
a while a find a party or hit the con suite or go to some
programming. But as a stand alone all you have is the
game.” Olmstead-Dean cites a “string of expensive
[1997] TSFL howlers that left audiences crying... and not
for more,” and MacDougal concurs, adding that “there
was one Intercon where most of the games submitted
either were never finished or didn’t meet minimum
[player count] and withdrew.”
There have been several attempts to resurrect
the format in the Northeast, most notably by Andrew
Zorowitz’s Foam Brain Productions, which was founded
in 2004 at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute (RPI) in Troy,
New York. Over the next six and a half years, Foam
Brain put on 13 weekend-long larps and over 200 shortforms. The group paid the authors of classic weekendlong larps for the rights to produce their games.
In late 2010, Zorowitz announced an end to Foam
Brain’s larp activities in a mailing list post. The group
lives on, reincarnated as a board and card game
retailer in downtown Troy, and Lime Shirt larping, a
group formed from many of the former Foam Brain
GMs, continues to put on weekend-long games at RPI.
But new authorship in the weekend-long format is
very scarce (again, with isolated exceptions such as
MIT). According to Diewald, “writing a good weekendlong game is hard... you need a wealth of strong
character material to start with. You need things to
keep the pacing going over the span of the weekend....
Things have to be spread properly throughout the game
so that everyone has a good time, and not just a select
few.”
My own writing group, Alleged Entertainment,
wrote a new TSFL larp in 2010—probably the only nonMIT one in the Northeast that year—and the experience
more than bears out Diewald’s words. The mid-Atlantic
region, similarly, has seen a dearth of new TSFL games,
with the only recent exception being Mike Young’s
Lullaby of Broadway trilogy.
New directions
The Intercon conventions have become a hub for
independent theatre-style larp, and several new and
experimental forms have become a part of the fabric.
Some have come from within the community; others
originated elsewhere and have become a presence in
the Northeast.
The “storytelling” form of larp dates back to nearly
the beginning: the weekend-long Tales of the Arabian
Nights created it in 1988. In this style of larp, the players
occasionally break out of their main character in order
to play out a short scene, which diegetically represents
the main characters hearing a story, having a flashback,
or the like. The Arabian Nights game ran at least once
more, and years later, in 2004, a group of writers who
fondly remembered playing it wrote their own: Tales of
Pendragon, set in Arthurian legend.
Pendragon spurred revived interest in the form, and
in 2006, a group led by Jeff Diewald created Across the
Sea of Stars, a 10-hour storytelling larp that debuted
at Intercon F to great acclaim. My own group got in on
the action in 2008 with The Last Seder, and has created
two other storytelling larps since. The format allows for
backstories that would otherwise be very difficult to
achieve in a theatre-style larp, and I’ve written about it
extensively on the Alleged Entertainment blog.
Horde larp is a different form that also dates back
quite a while. In a horde larp, there is a core cast of main
characters, and the rest of the players are assigned to
the horde. Horde players are handed a short character
sheet (perhaps 1-3 paragraphs) and assigned to play
that character for a short period of time, at which point
that character will leave game and the player will
pick up another short character. This repeats until the
game is over, so the main characters are constantly
surrounded by a revolving cast of new characters.
The earliest horde larp in New England was most
likely Buses Welcome, which was created at a Build Your
Own Game workshop at Intercon 10.5. That game takes
place at a fast food restaurant called BurgerMeister,
where chaos ensues. The format proved popular and
has been used in many other games, including An UnConventional Odyssey, Panel: the LARP, Purging Purgatory,
and Collision Imminent. The horde format lends itself
well to madcap comedies, and most horde larps fit into
that genre.
Similar to horde games is the micro-larp genre,
first popularized at Intercon by Alex Bradley’s Intercon
Z experiment, in which players signed up to play a
suite of one-hour larps back-to-back. Each was a fully
conceived, but very small, larp scenario that could
be fully played out within an hour, and they spanned
all genres. Intercon Z was a popular and successful
concept and brought repeat performances for several
subsequent years. A similar project near and dear to my
heart is the 10 Bad LARPs series, which puts together
a series of 10-minute farcical, improvisational games.
Mike Young’s The Road Not Taken is another noteworthy
micro-larp, which takes more or less the same format
as 10 Bad LARPs but turns the genre on its head, putting
together a series of intensely dramatic 10-minute
decision scenes.
Every New England Intercon since XV has included
at least one British larp, brought across the pond from
the UK Freeforms community. The Britain-New England
connection began in 1998, when Brian Williams
attended Intercon 13.5. Jeff Diewald recalls: “Who knew
that when I hosed Brian Williams over completely in
the afternoon game... and then had to convince him to
trust me in the truly intense evening run of Intrigue in
the Clouds, that he would start coming to [New England]
Intercons, and then start bringing friends, leading
to the entire British invasion?” The number of British
games has grown year after year, and UK Freeforms
have proven wildly popular with the New England
crowd, their registration lists filling within the minutes of
signups opening every year.
Similarly, members of the MIT Assassins’ Guild have
been running larps at Intercons since 2004 and have
brought games with a focus on high-quality mechanics,
player-versus-player interaction, and tight design.
MIT-created systems and mechanics have made their
way into several other games from other corners of
the Intercon community, and likewise, the Assassins’
Guild has produced larps that originated at Intercon and
gained members from the Intercon community.
Nordic larp has its own long and storied tradition,
and many books could be written about it (and have
been). The first Intercon to feature Nordic larp was
2007’s Intercon XXII, which had a run of J. Tuomas
Harviainen’s A Serpent of Ash. Intercon H in 2008
brought a repeat of A Serpent of Ash in addition to Under
My Skin, a Jeepform game from American writer Emily
Care Boss.
Since then, Nordic larp has been a growing
presence at Northeastern conventions: Intercon L (2011),
for example, featured a workshop on the Ars Amandi
mechanic led by Lizzie Stark as well as two games that
mention Jeepform as an influence in their descriptions.
In addition, looking at New England Intercons over the
years, there is a clear trend towards games more in line
with Nordic and Jeepform aesthetics. According to Chad
Bergeron, “Nordic styles of play echo with those who
want more depth of characterization, more Role in their
role play, less play or mechanics.”
Nordic larp is not the only influence driving the New
England community towards more character-focused,
darker games. Kind Friends Together, a larp by Cyndy
Cooper (née Wakefield), had its first run in the Boston
area in 2007, and despite not actually running at an
Intercon until 2011, became the stuff of legend within
the community due to the intense emotional reactions it
provoked in nearly everyone who played it. More dark,
emotionally raw games followed, both from Wakefield
and the people who had played in her games.
70
The future
As I write this, Intercon New England has just broken
through all previous registration records—the current
paid pre-registration total for Intercon M stands at 352
attendees. As the GM Liaison for the con, I feel a sense
of excitement as well as dread—how are we going
to fit enough games in the Chelmsford Radisson to
accommodate this many players? I’m sure we’ll work it
out somehow.
Unfortunately, Intercon Mid-Atlantic was last held
in 2008. In 2009, Gordon Olmstead-Dean announced
the cancellation of Intercon XXIV, citing financial
concerns and low registration. There have been two
attempts to hold the convention in subsequent years
(one by Eric Johnson and one by Hank Kuhfeldt), but
both have cancelled.
Other Intercon conventions have similarly fallen
by the wayside: Intercon Northeast ran as part of
Dexcon in New Jersey for several years, but in 2007,
Dexcon dropped the Intercon branding for Dexcon 10.
The convention does, however, continue to include a
strong track of larp events to this day. Similarly, Wyrd
Con II used the brand Intercon West for its second
year, but has since dropped the name. This leaves
New England as the last Intercon standing, at least for
now, although the Live Action Roleplayers Association
(LARPA), holder of the trademark and the successor
organization to the ILF, has not ruled out further
Intercon franchises in the future.
Larp at Intercon and its surrounding community
has changed a great deal over the convention’s history.
We’ve gone from weekend-long games to shortforms. We’ve added new and experimental formats.
We’ve assimilated stylistic influences from other larp
communities around the world. We’ve changed our
name and venue.
What does the future hold? Mark Waks sees a trend
in cross-pollination between local campaign larps and
the Intercon crowd: “A lot of the traditional Intercon
crowd has moved into the campaign-game arena and
made it their own, producing a flowering of long-form
games of many different genres. That’s where I see much
of the serious energy going these days.”
Tim Lasko predicts that technological advances
will begin to make their way into short-form larps:
“Technology is at the point where it is both relatively
easy and inexpensive to, say, use a half-dozen tablet
PCs replacing the classic ‘item card’ or other physical
mechanics.” Indeed, we have seen a few such games
in recent years: the 2010 larp Blackout, for example,
used a custom electronics-based setup to give physical
reality to a survival-horror scenario in a spacecraft.
Gordon Olmstead-Dean has been working on
technologically-advanced larp in a different direction:
running larp scenarios on Second Life and other virtual
reality platforms. According to him, “I really see very
little difference... between the quality and type of RP
[roleplay] in that environment and most mid-range
larps that I can find surviving in the area, and I’m sort
of pushing a new take with a slightly higher threshold of
continuity and RP.”
Chad Bergeron sees “a shift currently away from
‘genre’ games... and a shift towards a wider range of
settings, and a bigger focus on believable characters.”
He also points out that the age range of Intercon
attendees is widening in both directions: “Before
Intercon people tended to drift away from larp after
college. Now people are staying in the hobby much
longer and later, and that means kids.”
Whatever the future may hold, larp in New England
appears to be on a growth trajectory, both within the
Intercon community and outside it—and those lines, too,
are blurring. We’ve had a great thirty years—here’s to
the next thirty!
Nat Budin has been larping since his freshman year
of college. With his writing group, Alleged Entertainment,
he has written over a dozen original theatre-style larps,
including Time Travel Review Board, The Last Seder,
Resonance, and 10 Bad LARPs. Nat founded Brandeis
University’s Festival of the LARPs in 2006, served as chair
of Intercon I in 2009, and enjoys writing about himself
in the third person. In his copious free time, Nat plays
guitar and sings with the folk-rock band Stranger Ways.
natbudin@gmail.com
72
Mad About the Techniques: Stealing Nordic methods for larp design
by Lizzie Stark
A
cross the room, my lovers are persuading
people to join tonight’s celebration—a little
party to lighten the somber mood. The tenor
of the room is macabre tonight because
three years ago today, everyone with a Y chromosome
dropped dead—cars crashed, planes fell, and each
of us has keenly felt the loss. I am talking to Thomas, a
trans man and stand-up comic who performs at a club
that belongs to one of my partners. He is here with his
family—his mother and his girlfriend. They hope that
the government will give them sperm to start a family.
That is what my two lovers and I want too. No babies
have been born since the disaster despite raids on the
local sperm banks, but now the government is selecting
future potential families. This is a pilot program.
Around the room, I see solemn faces on most of the
women. It’s cold in this cavernous room. Thomas agrees
that a party would lighten the mood. We’ve been talking
about all the wonderful funny things that men used to
do, he says. Maybe we could tell stories tonight. Across
the room, my lovers are still enlisting others to the
cause. I am making small talk with Thomas, his mother
and his girlfriend. Did you have siblings? He asks. For
a moment I cannot say anything. A younger brother, I
force out. Thomas grabs my wrist. I’m so sorry, he says.
That small moment—the choked back tears and
the sympathy of Thomas—represents one of the best
moments of my experience with the larp Mad About the
Boy. In that instant, I uniquely felt the emotions of my
character merge with my own. The tears I blinked back
were real, involuntary, and quite strong, rather than an
In between psychological and physical examinations,
the candidates passed the time by bonding over a casual
game of cards. During debriefing, some players indicated
these “down time” scenes as the most rewarding and
immersive. Photo by Liz Rywelski
act I was putting on for the other players around me. This
moment of intense, real emotion is part of what draws
players to Nordic larp.
In Orange, Connecticut at the beginning of October,
2012, I collaborated with a host of Americans—Sarah
Miles, Jeramy Merritt, A.A. George, and Emily Care
Boss—and backed by the U.S. company First Person
Entertainment, we produced the Norwegian larp Mad
About the Boy. We worked closely with the original
Norwegian larpwrights—Margrete Raaum, Tor Kjetil
Edland, and Trine Lise Lindahl to adapt the manuscript
to the U.S. setting and compress and translate some
Nordic techniques for the U.S. play culture.
The game—loosely inspired by the graphic novel
Y: The Last Man by Brian K. Vaughan and Pia Guerra—
was set in a dystopian future after all males died in a
single day. The players portrayed women, organized
into familial units of three, applying to the U.S. to be
inseminated with sperm from a sperm bank as part
of the government’s pilot program to figure out how it
would allocate this now-precious resource. Thirty-one
players would sign up for the game, and the organizers
wrote several new trios—notably including a trio of
conservatives—to accommodate the crowd.
boundaries of what’s come before. Still, there are some
common design principles that pop up over and over
again.1
•
Immersion. Although there’s a lot of academic
debate around this word, basically, it means the
feeling you get when roleplay flows naturally and
you really, truly feel like your character. Creating
immersion is one of the aims of Nordic larp.
•
360 degree illusion. The game scenography
strives for realism. So a bouquet of flowers is
represented by a bouquet of flowers, and not a
card with “flowers” written on it. Part of the idea
is that pretending a card is really a bouquet of
flowers takes one out of the game world and inhibits
immersion. Read more about 360 illusion on the
Nordic Larp Wiki.
•
Few mechanics. A long rule set for Nordic games
is ten pages. Most games have far fewer. The
idea is to introduce mechanics only when strictly
necessary, only when the character and the player
should experience things differently (as in, for
example, combat). Mostly, the rule, tempered by
common sense, is: if you can do it in real life, you
can do it in game. And of course, you should only
perform an action in game if it’s probable that your
character could also perform it. Part of the idea
behind this is that lots of rules can interfere with
immersion—if I have to whip out my character card
to use my lockpick skill on the door in front of me,
than I’ve been yanked out of the world of the game.
Sometimes, mechanics include metatechniques—
ways of breaking the flow of narrative to heighten
the drama. Metatechniques include stuff like
character monologues, or playing possible futures
or pasts in a designated black box area.
Nordic Larp
There’s a lot of confusion in the U.S. about what the term
“Nordic larp” means. “Nordic larp” sounds like it refers
to larp that happens in the Nordic countries (Finland,
Denmark, Sweden, and Norway). This is both true and
misleading. The term “Nordic larp” specifically refers to
a small but vibrant subculture of experimental and often
artsy games that originated in the Nordic countries.
The mainstream of larp in Denmark, Finland, Norway,
and Sweden is much as it is in the U.S.—dominated
by fantasy boffer games and vampire campaigns. The
people interested in experimental stuff have joined
together across national boarders under the banner
“Nordic larp.”
It’s hard to talk about how Nordic larp is different
from American larp because “Nordic larp” is a school
of experimental larp, and “American larp” is larp that
happens in America, and America is a big country with
many smaller disparate scenes.
Nordic larp itself is a pretty diverse genre
surrounded by a robust and decade-long tradition of
academic scholarship. The scene resists definition
because those sneaky designers like to push the
•
Artistic vision. Many Nordic larps have artistic
aims, whether that means helping players explore
particular emotions, both positive and negative,
getting across a political point, or just experimenting
with form for the sake of experiment. There have
been games about refugee camps, prisons, AIDS,
cancer, homelessness, gender relations and so on.
1. The below qualities are excerpted and adapted from my blog
over at LizzieStark.com
CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Watching the stand
up comedy routine intended to lift everyone’s spirits:
Melissa from the Nuclear Family and Maria, the head of the
Committee; characters walking through the woods to attend
the vigil at the start of game, gradually fading into character
as they walked; The Last Man posing before his entrance,
bedecked in dirt and fake blood. Photos top and lower left
by Liz Rywelski; photo lower right by John Stavropoulos.
•
Nordic games emphasize collaboration over
competition. The good of the overall story is often
put above the individual aims of characters. Sure,
my character might be likely to whip out her gun and
shoot the last man, but I might not do it because it’d
make the game less fun for everyone else. Another
way of saying this is that in Nordic larp, players play
for each other as much as they play for themselves.
As Norwegian larper Erlend Eidsem Hansen put it,
“It’s more like singing in a choir than doing sports.”
Larper Johanna MacDonald explained how this idea
affects the game to the Mad About the Boy Facebook
group. She wrote, “We love to (sometimes) play to
lose. The question is not necessarily whether my
character will come out of this situation well, but
what would make the most interesting story, and not
just for me, but for others.[…] A scene where your
character loses something important, loses status, is
disappointed, has to own up to a mistake, or any of
those other social horrors can be the best scene of
the game sometimes.”
74
feeling really raw about my infertility, I might decide
I don’t want to play an infertile character, or I might
decide to focus my game play away from that theme.
And then too, I might try to play on it and use a
safeword.
•
Safewords. Many Nordic games use the safewords
of “brake” and “cut.” During a scene of emotional
intensity, players can say “brake,” which tells scene
partners “this level of intensity is cool but please don’t
push it” or “cut” which stops game play and allows
the players to walk away.
•
Continuous immersion. In U.S. games, players
frequently go in and out of character with hand
signals—often a closed fist atop the head. But since
Nordic larp has immersive aims, going out of game
for minor clarifications is frowned on. If you don’t
know the answer, just make it up. And time spent
out of game—metagaming about an upcoming love
scene, for example, is often kept strictly focused on
the task at hand, without discussion of that movie
I saw last week. Frequently, there is an off-game
area where players can go when they need a break
before stepping back into the action. Often, you’re
expected to eat, breathe, and sleep your character.
•
Workshops and debriefs. Usually, but not always,
Nordic larps are one-shots rather than campaigns,
often bracketed by workshops and debriefs, which
are considered part of the game experience.
CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: An intense family dynamic
scene between the Three Generations Triad; The physician
from the Muslim Sisterhood and the Committee’s psychologist
attempting to clothe, feed, and diagnose the Last Man; The
Committee’s gynecologist, Julie, questioning Linn about her
medical history. Photos by Liz Rywelski
•
•
•
the GM hid that sword of awesome out of game
and use that knowledge, then I’ve deprived other
players of their chance to nab it. In Nordic larp,
since the plot focuses on character development,
and there are few mechanics, meta-interactions
are encouraged. Instead of leaving the outcome of
a brawl up to our stats, we might step out of game
and talk—out of character—about whether it would
make a better story for me to lose. Or if we are going
to play a love scene, we might talk about whether
we will play it awkward or tender, and whether you
are comfortable with me putting my arm around
you, or whether we prefer physical distance. By
the same token, if you know what my character’s
buttons are ahead of time, you can push them and
help me develop my character further and quicker.
Metagaming around character development is
encouraged because it furthers a player’s emotional
investment.
Plot is internal and emphasizes character growth. In
contrast, in many American larps, plot is often external
and goal-oriented—fighting goblins, figuring out how
to launch the spaceship, etc. Nordic larp emphasizes
character arc and emotion—the main plot is often
something like “we are flawed humans struggling
against ourselves and society to find happiness.” As
their main goal for the duration of the larp, characters
might seek to find love, survive, give birth, or
overcome personal failings, and consequently, game
masters interject non-player characters into the game
very very rarely. It may help to think of Nordic larp
less as a game, and more as an improvised theatrical
experience.
Secrecy is not important. Because many U.S. games
rely on external plot, and often rest on the thrill of
“what happens next?!” secrecy is often a major part
of the game. If a certain spell will unlock a portal
into another world, spreading that knowledge might
rob other players of the joy of discovery. But since
Nordic larp revolves around character development
and internal plotlines, secrecy isn’t necessary. If my
character has issues with infertility, better to shout it
from the rooftops before the game—you might find
a way to help push that issue for me in one of our
scenes together.
Metagaming encouraged. Stateside, we usually
consider metagaming a bad thing. If I see where
•
Emotional intensity. Much American larp focuses
on escapism and entertainment—and these are
absolutely worthy goals—while Nordic larp often
goes for intense emotion. Nordic theorists often
talk about “bleed”—what happens when player
and character emotions get mixed up. Many Nordic
games intentionally produce bleed—if I am infertile
in real life and play an infertile character in game,
my personal emotions might bleed into my roleplay,
and lessons that my character learns may stay with
me. Players have some control over bleed—if I’m
Steal-able Techniques
Of all the Nordic techniques and aesthetics that Mad
About the Boy used and reflected—total transparency,
360 degree immersion, 24/7 immersion, emphasis on
relationships, emotions, and setting over plot—the most
instantly transportable to America are the workshop, the
black box, and the after care.
The pre-game workshop is a pleasurable part of
the game experience for many Nordic larpers. We
wanted to reflect this in Mad About the Boy, and planned
for a four-hour workshop on Friday night and a fourhour workshop on Saturday morning. The game began
around Saturday noon and lasted approximately 24
hours. We did many things with the workshop time—let
people know about logistics, played an ice-breaker,
introduced ourselves to each other out of game, and
taught the very minimal mechanics employed. We also
used the time to deepen the relationships among the
characters. For example, the trios tried out a hot seat
technique—two people asked the third a lot of questions
in character in rapid-fire. The player on the hot seat had
to respond. The stuff you said on the hot seat didn’t have
to become canon, but it could help you think through
your characters. We also split into small groups of six or
so, and armed with a GM and a suggested set list Trine,
Tor, and Margo had composed, we played out scenes
from the characters’ pasts.
For me, the most powerful part of the workshop
came on Friday night, during a guided meditation where
we imagined—as ourselves—where we were when
all the men died. I imagined walking to my scientist
husband’s office several hours after the disaster hit and
finding him dead on the ground, along with most of the
men he worked with. This bodily emotional memory
is what made me blink back tears at Thomas’ question
about my siblings—it provided emotional context for the
character that heightened the experience.
Many players enjoyed the black box, and it was a
favorite with me too. The black box is a room that exists
out of time and place. It is a way of getting around the
linear timeline of larp. We blacked out the windows of
a room and furnished it with lights that could be turned
on and off in varying combination, and a small set of
speakers for playing songs if desired. Players arranged
the settings according to their wishes, and used the
room to play out scenes from the past and future, dreams
and fantasies, and could even play out scenes multiple
times from different players’ perspectives. The extras in
the scenes were played by people you grabbed or by a
GM. Sometimes, others were invited to watch. I played
a number of scenes in the black box—the abortion of
one character; a fantasy sequence in which the perfect
grandchild delivered not-so-perfect standup to her
mother and grandmother; and one woman’s dreams of
love, which were brutally crushed.
If the mechanics make the game—give players
lockpicks and they will pick locks, give them boffers
and they’ll fight—then giving players a black box
allowed them to create emotional context that upped
the stakes of the game. In something like a boffer
campaign, this emotional resonance accumulates
over time, as characters develop their relationships. A
black box simply accelerates that accumulation, and is
easy to set-up.
Most U.S. larpers have been to a debrief whether
it’s called that or not—it often takes the form of a postgame diner trip where people talk over what happened
at the game. At Mad About the Boy, we structured it and
made it mandatory. Over the course of three hours or
so, we talked in big groups, small groups, and random
trios about what we would take with us from this game
and what we would leave behind. We talked about
problematic scenes, great scenes, and ideas that had
come to us during the game. Finally, we hooked people
up with “de-roling buddies,” or partners to discuss the
experience with if needed afterward. Some people
used them, and I suspect some did not, but the tool was
there in case it was needed.
76
What’s Next
As Norwegian organizer Trine put
Some people accused the game
it at the end of the game, “You might
of sexism for creating a scenario in
think we’re silly and overstating how
which women were competing for
much we want you to talk now, but you
the sperm of a single man, and for
may feel differently later this week.”
emphasizing the biological role of
True to form, the day after the game
women’s bodies. To me, this critique
ended, the player email list exploded
has more legs, but I still think it
with people reflecting on their intense
misunderstands the libretto of the
feelings about the game.
game. The game’s first act, which lasted
twenty hours, takes place before the last
To me, Mad About the Boy owes
man enters. Even after his entrance, the
much of its success to these three
last man doesn’t necessarily represent
techniques—the workshop, the black
something the women will vie for; in
box, and the debrief, and I think
our game, he represented a resource,
these methods are easily adaptable
Lizzie with her husband George,
to many one-shot and even campaign
who cooked for the whole ensemble a romantic interest, a moral hope for
a heterosexual world, an ally, and, at
games. Pre-game workshops are
most of the weekend while in drag.
least to one person, a threat (one woman
infinitely variable—the exercises
Photo by Liz Rywelski
screamed “kill it!” after he entered). To
organizers choose depend on the
suggest that of course the women would
relationships they want to create
compete for the affections of a lone man
among the characters—and although
is to limit our conception of how women relate to men,
they take time, they intensify immersion and emotion.
and to degrade the plurality of needs and emotions that
A black box is an easy addition if you have two lamps,
each woman might feel in such a situation. The critique
a computer with .mp3s on it, and a spare room. And
commits the very sin it accused Mad About the Boy
the debrief is already happening, so structuring it—
of—straitjacketing women and their desires.
especially after games that are emotionally intense—
would be a responsible move for organizers to take.
In a world with no men, women by default fill every
role, so the conflation of “woman” with “mother”
becomes impossible—there are too many examples
to the contrary. At the same time, this is a game about
getting pregnant and having kids, potentially, and that
is a valid topic of inquiry.
Mad About the Boy is a game about women after all the
The issue of how to relate to and welcome trans
men on earth die. So all the characters are women, save
women is something the organizers grappled with—
Thomas, the trans man, and Isak, the last biological
how to present the scenario in terms that stayed true to
man on earth, who showed up halfway through the
the spirit of the scenario while honoring the concerns
game. In Norway, Trine, Margo, and Tor ran the game
of trans people. The outcome was imperfect, but we did
twice, once with an all-women cast, except for the last
the best we could at the time.
man, and once with a mixed-gender cast, all playing
women. They felt that the first game focused on the
We received some criticism of the language used
game’s intended topics—power, sexuality, femininity,
to describe the scenario from some trans individuals
relationships between women—while the second
who felt it was minimizing to them. For example, we
game ended up revolving more around cross-play. We
talked about the “men” that died and the “women” that
decided to run an all-women game, and this caused all
survived. This critique has legs, but we also felt that
sorts of controversy.
it communicated better to use “men” and “women”
rather than “people with a Y chromosome” and “people
Some people accused the game of sexism for
without a Y chromosome,” in part because of the culture
excluding men. To me, this critique evidences a
we currently live in. We tried to welcome trans women
misunderstanding of what sexism is, which is gender
players in other ways, by allowing players to self-select
bias enforced by a power structure that deferentially
whether “woman” applied to them, by engaging in
prefers one gender to another. I don’t think running
discussion around the language used, and by welcoming
an all-women game is any more sexist than a girls’
the gender-queer in our promotional materials,
school, or a boys’ school, and for the record, if
emphatically and explicitly.
someone wanted to run a larp for men only and had
good reasons for doing so, I could get down with
By some measure we succeeded—a number of
that. This larp was one larp, and its existence doesn’t
trans women attended the game, and afterward several
prevent others from running a mixed-gender version
talked about how welcome they felt in this women’s
of Mad About the Boy, or an all-men version of some
space, and the transformative effect of that welcome.
other game.
Several had complex emotions during the workshop,
The Controversy
when we imagined as ourselves that all the men were
dead. And we talked about it at length afterward, whether
the problematic aspects of the game could have been
resolved by tweaking the game’s plot. For example, what
if the plague killed people according, not to sex, but to
gender? The Norwegian larpwrights considered this
carefully while writing the game, concluding that such
a plague would be more problematic, and not merely
because the lines that determine gender are perhaps
murkier than those of biological sex. If trans women
survived the disaster, it’s likely that the remaining cis
women might enslave them as sperm producers. That
dark, horrifying territory might be worth exploring, but it
lay beyond the scope of the game’s intended focus.
At core, I think these critiques respond to a deeply
held belief among American gamers that all games
should be open to all people, that all games should be for
everyone. In general, I’d agree with this assessment—I
think equal access is great in most circumstances. But in
this particular circumstance, where we sought to explore
relationships among women as women, I think we had
good reason to break the rule. I also think that organizers
and designers have a right to run the games they want
to run. This game was about motherhood, power, and
relationships—if those topics don’t get you going, then
it’s probably not the game for you. I’d also say that the
emotional intensity of Nordic larp isn’t for everyone, just
as games like Dungeons & Dragons aren’t for me (Too
much fighting! Not enough narrative)! That doesn’t mean
that D & D isn’t a great game or that Nordic larp sucks, it
means no more or less than this: different people have
different preferences and there are games enough for all
of us to enjoy.
The game began with a ritualized vigil memorializing the
loss of men from Earth. Photo by Liz Rywelski
Mad About the Boy is the beginning of the story. It’s
proof—not the only proof, and not even the first proof2 —
that there is an audience in the U.S. for Nordic larp.
Given the right atmosphere, we can trust each other to
play hard-hitting games that address serious topics of
enduring social and political concern. We can tackle
emotionally difficult topics in larp and still live to tell the
tale and thrive for the telling.
Decades ago, the Nordicans imported a U.S.
pastime—Dungeons & Dragons—and morphed it to
suit their communitarian local culture. Now they’ve
tossed the football back to us in the form of Nordic
larp, and it’s up to us to transform it again and make it
quintessentially American.
Lizzie Stark is a journalist and the author of
Leaving Mundania (2012), a narrative nonfiction book
about larp. She holds an MS in journalism from Columbia
University and an MFA in creative writing from Emerson
College, where she founded the online literary journal
Fringe. Her work has appeared in the Daily Beast,
Philadelphia Inquirer, Today.com, and elsewhere.
Lizzie.Stark@gmail.com
2. There’s been some argument about whether Mad About the Boy
is the first straight-up Nordic larp run in the U.S. But that depends
on how you define “Nordic larp.” Nordic freeform games, such
as jeepform games, have been around in the States since the mid
2000s, but the Nordic scene considers those tabletop games,
not larp. The American artist Brody Condon has run some stuff
with help from Danish larpwrights—but does that count, since
it’s created by a half-American team? What’s important, in my
opinion, is that Nordic larp in general has come to the U.S. in the
last half-decade. Mad About the Boy is simply the latest iteration of
the Nordic invasion. [Read Nat Budin’s essay “Over Time,” for more
information about early Nordic larps run at Intercon—ed.]
78
Inside The Box, the United States Army’s
Taxpayer Funded Larp
by Aaron Vanek
The audio slideshow linked to from this article contains
sounds of gunfire, explosions, and graphic depictions of
simulated wounds and death of role-players, including
uniformed American soldiers.
The Army denied my request for interviews. This
report is personal anecdote only and has not been
approved by the U.S. military or any government entity.
F
ort Irwin lies roughly 37 miles outside Barstow, in
California’s Mojave Desert. Although its military
history began in 1844, the modern base started
as an Anti-Aircraft testing range in 1940, just
before America entered World War II. In 1951, during
the U.S.-Korean War, the base took the name Camp
Irwin and was used as an Armored Combat Training
area. The post became a permanent installation in 1961
and renamed Fort Irwin.
On August 9, 1979, the Department of the Army
selected Fort Irwin as the site for a National Training
Center. “With over 1000 square miles for maneuver
and ranges, an uncluttered electromagnetic spectrum,
airspace restricted to military use, and its isolation from
densely populated areas, Fort Irwin was an ideal site
for a National Training Center. The National Training
Center [NTC] was officially activated October 16, 1980
and Fort Irwin returned to active status on July 1, 1981”
reads their Wikipedia entry. There are two similar
training centers operating, one at Fort Polk Louisiana
(JRTC), the other in Germany (JMRC).
The full community base is approximately 1,200
square miles in area, just under the size of Rhode
Island. Roughly 24,000 people consisting of rotational
soldiers, assigned military personnel, families, and
a civilian workforce, populate it. Two thousand or so
students study in the base’s K-12 school system.
In 2004, the NTC began to feature role-playing as
part of its training program. According to Brigadier
General Terry Ferrell, the Commanding General of
the NTC, “We knew how to operate in conventional
[warfare], but not with counter-insurgency.”
According to a timely article on David Petraeus
in The New Yorker, “In the months leading up to the
invasion of Iraq, many American military units travelled
to the National Training Center, a sprawling patch of
California desert. There they took part in enormous
mock tank battles against a phony enemy, called the
Kraznovians, that was meant to stand in for the Iraqi
Army but had in fact been modelled on the Soviet
military in an imaginary invasion of Western Europe.”
Once it became apparent to the U.S. commanders that
they would be staying in Iraq and Afghanistan for many
years, they needed to train their soldiers in the culture
of the Middle East. The goal of the training, said Ferrell,
is to ensure soldiers “experience nothing for the first
time while in theater.”
A typical unit’s rotation is 28 days: one week of
reception and classes, six days of STIX—simulated
training exercises, or mods in larp patois, and eight
days of 24-hour freeform play (called full spectrum ops)
where the actions of one soldier can have repercussions
later. The rotation concludes with a week at the unit’s
home base to prepare equipment before deployment
overseas. Irwin can handle any size unit, from platoon
to brigade, and have had special forces, National Guard,
and foreign military groups run through their training
area, which they call The Box.
Initially designed to replicate Iraq but now
resembling Afghanistan, five small towns have been
built from scratch in the same geographic region that
contains the lowest and hottest spot in North America.
The largest of these villages, originally called Medina
Wasl (Iraq), is now Ertabat Shar (sp?) Afghanistan and
features a two-story mosque, two-story hotel where
visiting dignitaries and journalists can stay, working
restaurant, newspaper, radio station, television
broadcast, and merchant streets. “It’s reflective of
an actual Afghan town,” said the town commander, a
Captain. He notes the one thing they haven’t exactly
replicated is the smell.
To increase 360º immersion, approximately
350 hired role-players (and the Army calls them as
such) play the parts of merchants, Afghan police
officers, family members, security forces, imams, and
insurgents or Taliban fighters. Some of these roleplayers are American soldiers who lost a limb or limbs
in combat, but continue to serve as wounded NPCs.
Many role-players are Iraqi and Afghan refugees who
fled their war-torn countries. They speak in Persian
or Pashto, pray to Mecca five times a day, and remain
in character—with their own name, relations, friends,
alliances, and goals—for a week while the soldiers
freely play in the area. One role-player, an Afghani
native portraying a government official, routinely
contacted his relative, an actual official in Afghanistan,
TOP: Front and back of
six U.S. Army issue
Casualty Cards
BOTTOM: A demonstration
of the MILES harness
for advice and ideas on his character. Designers
constantly update their training scenarios to reflect the
latest information from the front lines. All the combat
trainers have experience in the field; many return for
multiple tours, rotate back, and then update the NTC
with their real-world data.
Their larp mechanics utilize MILES, essentially
an elaborate laser tag system. Everyone who is in the
simulation (in character, IC, in game) wears a harness
with sensors that detect laser fire. All the weapons
are real but fire blanks into a box that subsequently
shoots a laser. Brass casings are ejected and need to
be collected by troops. Each weapon has their own
stats and, if explosive, damage radius. Shots can now
penetrate walls, and even the vehicles are equipped
with MILES and can be damaged from attacks. It’s leaps
beyond the original simulations—dropped sacks of
flour. The NTC also employs Hollywood movie EFX
technicians for explosions, wounds, etc.
The Gamemasters at Fort Irwin are called Combat
Trainers, CTs, or “Critters.” They used to be labeled
OCs, or “Observer-Controllers,” a term I wish larps
would use instead of GMs, because I think it’s more
appropriate to be an Observer-Controller in a larp than
a Game Master, because I don’t believe all larps are
games (though most are). The Critters wander the field,
or “lane” as it is called during STIX mods, watching
the soldiers and offering guidance as needed. One of
the main things they look for is if the troopers correctly
identify friend from foe, as well as follow proper safety
procedures. They are also there to deal damage once
the MILES system sounds off (or buzzes, indicating a
hit), accomplished by handing the wounded soldier a
random card from the appropriate Casualty Deck.
The CTs have multiple decks, for gunshot wounds,
shrapnel wounds, safety violations, etc. You can see
some of these cards, which the military now gives away
(they didn’t for my first tour), in the above scanned
image. These cards direct the PC (soldier, sorry) and
also give indicators of the injury symptoms, down to
blood pressure and heart rate. This allows the cleric
healers—sorry, medics—to learn how to diagnose
wounds and administer appropriate aid.
80
All the exercises are extensively videotaped, the
communications monitored, the troops tracked, and
the data fed into what Fort Irwin dubs the “Star Wars
Building,” a simple round structure that looks like a
community auditorium. Inside, the data is crunched
and evaluated. Later, the commanders have their After
Action Review (AAR), which SoCal larpers refer to as
AGP (After Game Party) or what Nordic larpers call a
debrief. Not only are tactics and strategies discussed,
but the psychological effects, intent, motives, morale,
etc. The information goes back to the design teams
who are also absorbing real world data; Team Lizard
designs the overall goals and missions (ergo, they
are Plot/GMs) and Team Dragon, who implement
it in the field (the referees or assistant GMs, in larp
terminology). In the case of my second trip to The
Box, it was only a week after an American Chinook
helicopter was shot down by Taliban insurgents. That
loss worked its way into the training exercises.
The Box can be toured for free (cost of lunch not
included, but subsidized food is exceptionally cheap
and untaxed) if you make an advance reservation on
the website. I have, twice.
Video recording is not allowed, but I took many
still photos and brought a cheap audio recorder to
capture the sounds. The audio slideshow below is a
combination of pictures from the two visits and sounds
from the second. It has poor aural quality, but hopefully
you can imagine the experience as I did. If not, (or even
if so) I highly recommend you tour the facility yourself.
It’s quite memorable.
Click on the image below to link to the YouTube
audio slideshow.
Please note that the images and sounds may be
disturbing, upsetting, or trigger PTSD to some.
Why is this important?
Footnotes
One of the officers who talked to us during my first
visit described a STIX he commanded (played) where
additional units were assigned to his squad. While
executing a mundane procedure that took hours, one
of the new company soldiers fell asleep away from
the others. The vehicles left him behind, and he was
captured by the enemy. That, the commander said, is
grounds for firing if it had really happened. When his
next term of duty in Iraq began, he made sure that every
vehicle under his control had a small white board with
the names of everyone who rode inside, and when they
left an area, all names were checked off to account
for all soldiers. The larp identified a problem that was
solved before occurring in real life.
During my second visit, a few soldiers—part of a
unit from the Pacific Northwest—collapsed from heat
exhaustion during their STIX. They were carrying
multiple pounds of gear in triple digit temperatures,
something they were guaranteed to experience in
Afghanistan. Foreknowledge of the importance of
hydration is forearmed against disaster.
Filkins goes on to describe General Petraeus’s
counter-insurgency strategy in Iraq: “What distinguishes
this method from other types of war-fighting is its focus:
instead of concentrating on the enemy you want to kill,
concentrate on the civilians you want to protect... He
[Petraeus] put former Baathists on the payroll and spent
millions on things like irrigation projects and new police.
‘Money is ammunition,’ he liked to say.”
Petraeus shifted the very real war from a gamist
approach—“we have these numbers and we need
to reduce their numbers”—into an immersionist,
character-persona driven one. The training at NTC
turned as well, from crunchy tank battles to more
situation-based experiences, where fluffy bits like trust,
communication, relationships, religion, culture, and
emotional ties are mightier than bullets. The characters
the role-players portrayed were at least as important, if
not more so, than the weapons they used.
Did larping help ease the American invasion and
occupation of Iraq? I’m not informed nor impudent
enough to make that call. But could it have, is it even
remotely possible? I say yes. Moreover, I proffer that larp,
at least some instances of larp, could have a significant
impact on society, on humanity itself. No matter how much
technology worms its wires into our lives, human minds
are still the driving force of humanity. Live action role
playing and its brethren RPGs, participatory interactive
narratives, etc., are nothing but exercises in communal
human narrative, possibly the greatest tools we have to
experience all aspects of human nature in a (relatively)
safe environment. The U.S. Army realized larp’s potential
beyond a hobby. Have you?
Dexter Filkins, “General Principles – How good was David
Petraeus?” The New Yorker, December 17, 2012, 76-78
For More Information
The books Fantasy Freaks and Gaming Geeks: An Epic
Quest for reality Among Role Players, Online Gamers, and
Other Dwellers of Imaginary Realms by Ethan Gilsdorf
(Lyons Press, 2009) and Leaving Mundania: Inside the
Transformative World of Live Action Role-Playing Games
by Lizzie Stark (Chicago Review Press, 2012) have very
insightful chapters concerning military role-playing
exercises.
The documentary movie Full Battle Rattle (2008),
distributed by First Run Features, is focused entirely on
the National Training Center at Fort Irwin. It is shown at
every tour of the NTC and is available from Netflix.
A larper for 25 years and counting, Aaron Vanek
is the Executive Director of Seekers Unlimited, a nonprofit
(501c3 pending) company that develops educational larps.
He helped start Live Game Labs, an informal larpwright
collective based in Southern California and wrote “Cooler
Than You Think: Understanding Live Action Role Playing.”
He lives in Los Angeles with his wife Kirsten. They hooked
up via a larp. A longer bio is here.
82
Futurity and Larp
by Evan Torner
P
attention somewhere, and hope the future bears fruit for
ermit me to use this forum to discuss two
those investments.
interrelated questions: “What is the future of
larp as a hobby and a medium?” and “How is
Second, the notion of progress – or the cliché phrase
larp itself a future-making activity?” They are
“moving forward” – is a social construction; a useful
questions that – though absolutely pertinent to us as
social fiction employed in the service of evaluating
committed designers, gamemasters, players and
certain trends as “good” or “bad.” Of course, history
theorists – are rarely posed on such an abstract level.
really only consists of political and class relations in
Panels and Internet forum discussions and blogs alike
messy incongruence (but coupled with disturbing
tend to phrase the future of larp in terms of technology
continuities), and that doesn’t always make for good
and increasing levels of larp organization and exposure. narratives to tell ourselves in justification for our
What I argue with this essay is that our particular
existence. So when we talk about the “progress” of
conception and disposition toward the future – our
the larp medium, for example, we are usually talking
futurity, if you will – both emerges from our very specific about A) the use of larps to treat topics not treated in
previously recorded larp events, or B) the increasingly
societal context and, at the same time, fundamentally
positive portrayal of niche larp culture in mainstream
affects the larps we design and play.
media. But A and B may or may not be diametrically
opposed forces, as Tova Gerge (2012) found in the
media circus surrounding Just a Little Lovin’, a 2011
Nordic larp inspired by the AIDS outbreak in 1982 New
York. Gerge discovered that pushing the envelope
in terms of taboo topics will likely incite a backlash
The impetus for this act of navel-gazing came from
from mainstream media forces, whose favor we are
a DAAD-sponsored institute I attended at Cornell
ostensibly trying to curry. Obviously an expanding field
University in the summer of 2012 discussing “Futurity.”
Over the course of six weeks, we intensively researched of quality larps offered to an increasing quantity and
variety of ready-and-willing players appears desirable,
and debated the essence of prognostic activities (from
but we always read this “progress” through our own
weather forecasts to political positioning), our cognition
deeply personal motives: “I’ll be able to quit my day job
of the future and its relationship with past predictions,
and just run larps all day!” – “I can educate people with
and the preclusion of an open future through our
larp.” – “Larp will change the world.” We thus cannot
perception of the present’s decline (i.e., science
narratives of global warming and Christian narratives of abstract the prognostic speech act from the subjectivity
of the speaker, nor speak precisely of the future without
apocalypse inciting feelings of mass helplessness and
revealing what we value.
paranoia). Though these high-level discussions were
primarily germane to my discipline of German studies,
Finally, and most importantly, our ability to predict
there were a couple of generally useful principles I
the future is limited by our general lack of data. That is to
gleaned as well.
say: the quantity of larps run globally per year number
in
the hundreds, but each individual event is usually
First and foremost: we cannot “objectively” think
a
fairly
private affair, neither well-documented at the
about the future, but are always caught up in our highly
level of gameplay nor conveniently replayable. Every
subjective affects of hope and fear. The point appears
year, conventions and various Internet portals then
obvious, but the subtext perhaps is not. Every occasion
hold discussions about the “future” of the role-playing
on which someone makes a prediction, whether it’s
FiveThirtyEight’s pinpoint forecast of the 2012 American game and what is to become of it given emerging
trends and so forth (with this essay being no exception).
presidential election or a gamemaster estimating how
Commentators in these discussions weigh probability,
many players will actually show up to their larp event,
possibility and potentiality in a medium that otherwise
will elicit an emotional response from the predictor him
generates this paltry data set from which to make
or herself. When a person discusses what is “trending”
accurate predictions. Like most other fields of human
in role-playing, that person by definition has some
endeavor, precedent, rumor and gut feelings guide our
emotional stake in that trend having one effect or
thoughts about the future of larp, and thus we are caught
another, some inherent hope or fear about its outcome.
off-guard just like all the rest of humanity when the
There are no outside observers; we are all in this boat
future arrives unexpectedly on our doorstep. Therefore,
together. We all have to invest our time, money and
I
we must acknowledge the inherent emotions, vague
goals and scant empirical data that we bring to the table
when talking about times to come.
bird-in-your-ear whispering, monologs – and jeep cofounder Tobias Wrigstad stood as an observer to our
late-night melodrama of relationships lost and formed
in a modern-day urban community. To me, Emily’s
jeepform game was definitely larp – bodily movement,
eye contact and gestures played a huge role in how
the scenes would play out – but definitely tabletop
as well, in its willingness to interrupt and intervene
in the fiction. Structured “freeform,” as it was called,
Before I launch into some inferences about where
helped me re-frame the hobby away from the onewe’re headed and how to orient ourselves toward that
destination, let me explicate my own position and stakes upsmanship of Vampire and toward its use as a medium
of complex expression. From that point on, I attended
in the debate. I am a larp player and designer, as well
the European conventions Fastaval and MittelPunkt
as a participant in what one would call academic game
while on my Fulbright in 2010, discovered the game
studies. My approach to larps comes from extensive
studies discipline, and went on to hold panels on roleexperience with tabletop role-playing games (TRPGs),
playing theory and invite Nordic larp scholars to the
particularly non-conventional mainstream titles (e.g.
United States (specifically Markus Montola and Annika
Unknown Armies, Whispering Vault) and the so-called
Waern) to assist in the propagation of the sophisticated,
“indie” role-playing games (e.g. InSpectres, Mortal
streamlined new form of larp I was witnessing. By the
Coil, Apocalypse World). Though I had been a TRPG
same token, I began to run events at the Boston-based
convention gamemaster for many years and made
larp convention Intercon, such as my Metropolis larp
aware of the larp medium, I only confronted the culture
– which has since been run around the world – and
head-on as a student at Grinnell College in the early
took notice of the many American innovations in the
00s. My participation in the boffer collective Dagorhir
gave me sufficient nerd-networking capacity to discover medium emerging from Intercon and WyrdCon. Though
American larps had begun to deal with more mature
the hidden world of invite-only larps on campus. Roy
Huggins (’99) was gracious enough to grant me entrance material and clarified the litigious “social-climbing
simulation” larps of yesteryear, such mature larps still
to one of these events – a Vampire Camarilla one-shot
centered on an art auction – and I suddenly found myself often operate on the premise of the gamemaster-asarchitect-and-puppetmaster, let alone utilize irritating
at a bizarre party filled with folks in black eye-makeup
card and puzzle task-resolution systems which directly
aggressively meta-gaming their way to advantage
compete with any given player’s objective to stay in
over their peers. I recall doing very little during my
character or push forth the narrative. As a counterfirst evening as a costumed larp character, other than
balance to these systems, Emily and I, along with Kat
poison the drink of some Toreador who had made a
Jones, Epidiah Ravachol and Julia Ellingboe, formed the
snide remark about my gloves (and the poison failed,
Western Massachusetts Interactive Literature Society
thanks to the rock-paper-scissors resolution mechanic).
(WMILS) to recognize our commitment to alternate
I participated in three different Vampire larps while at
forms of larp creation that focus on transparency and
Grinnell, each one a largely incoherent mish-mash of
player empowerment.
gamemaster plotting, player-generated sub-fiction, and
listless small talk among the socially marginal. During
My personal stakes in the larp discourse should now
this time, the discourse at The Forge – the indie TRPG
be clear. The gamemaster and designer in me seeks
portal – had really taken off, so TRPGs became my focal
to apply TRPG theory and praxis in larp creation, such
point of interest, and I took and then taught a Grinnell
that my hope is to deconstruct the latent “boundary”
Experimental College (ExCo) course on TRPG theory.
between tabletop, freeform and live-action role-playing
Larp meanwhile faded from my consciousness.
games. Inspiration taken from international sources
naturally prompts me to use larp cultures from abroad
And it returned all of a sudden at Dreamation
(e.g., Nordic larp culture) as models for change in
2008, when I played in Emily Care Boss’ larp version
the United States, while acknowledging the social
of Under My Skin, her TRPG about polyamory that then
limitations that prevent us from adopting those models.
won the prestigious Audience Award at Fastaval 2008
My participation in WMILS indicates a designer-activist
in Denmark. The game used so-called “jeepform”
approach: we write, organize and implement the kind
techniques – flashbacks, intensive scene framing,
II
84
of games we’d like to see in the world, and we model
our games off of what we see that works in other
games. This is the “being the change” approach, so
to speak. My academic positionality means that I have
a vested interest in institutionalizing American larp
design and discourse, but hopefully without sacrificing
the crowdsourced, grassroots creative energy that
keeps the movement vibrant. It would be somewhat
disingenuous of me not to reveal such biases before I
then launch into emotion-laden prognostication.
III
What is the future of larp as a hobby and a medium? I
will now address this question with the caveat that my
own evidence is anecdotal, my conclusions conjectural.
Earlier in 2012, Vincent Baker returned from
PAX Prime with a revelation: there were certain
design “problems” which TRPG game designers
had to solve in order to attract larger audiences to
their products. These problems were the oppressive
social footprint, counterproductive procedures of play,
and opaque content of most TRPGs. By “oppressive
social footprint,” Baker means the huge demands a
game makes on the time, money, space and logistical
know-how of a given group of players. Role-playing
is a serious leisure activity and/or a resource-hungry
hobby, especially as one proceeds through one’s adult
life. Most campaign larps collapse under the weight of
their oppressive social footprint, as players’ shifting
lives prohibit their participation. Every larp effort
requires semi-active engagement from its participants,
and effective engagement requires the kind of
attention perhaps better paid to one’s job or one’s kids.
Larp’s high overhead in terms of space and costumes,
as well as the stigma of being a larper, all contribute to
its social footprint. By “counterproductive procedures
of play,” Baker means the rules and rituals one has
generated are overly complex and require continuous
disciplining and training (i.e., gamemastering) of
a player base in order to get the group to follow
them. Unlike chess or duck-duck-goose, we routinely
run games we could not possibly explain to our
grandparents, and yet which somehow nevertheless
lay claim to the universal accessibility of folk art.
This is not to say our rules and rituals are bad; they
are merely an obstacle between niche interest
and mainstream interest. Games requiring large
rulebooks, special cards, an expert player – these
all engage to some degree in counterproductive
procedures of play. By “opaque content,” Baker means
the subject matter of the game itself does not appeal to
most people. Even to a world that is rapidly becoming
more nerdly in every way, steampunk vampires or
sci-fi intrigues do not draw in audiences the same
way as, say, Halo or reality television series. This is
not to say that larps should all find a way to be more
like other media, but rather should be aware that
most of their events are escapist fantasy that caters
to the only marginally expanding market of nerd
fandom. Finally, I would add the problem that larp is
physically demanding. Either a larp requires specific
human capacities (running, jumping, swimming) that
not everyone has, or accommodations are made for
different levels of player ability and disability that
consequently put more rules on the table for players
to digest. After playing in “The Solmukohta Plague,”
a larp by J. Tuomas Harviainen in which players
are hunted down and killed by zombies... and then
explore what it’s like to be a zombie before being
gunned down oneself, I realized that players with
difficulty running or climbing stairs were placed at an
automatic disadvantage within the game’s parameters.
Sometimes, we subconsciously design with the
healthy and the physically fit in mind – other times, we
generate piles of rules to make an event accessible
to everyone and make it way too complex. In effect,
Baker found design constraints in the time/space/
money investment, mediocre rules and genre-fiction
preoccupations of most games for the market.
The future of larp is either to A) continue to
overcome these problems bit by bit, or B) maintain
the hobby as an insular activity among a small
crowd who do not see Baker’s “problems” as such.
The actual future is likely to be a mixture of both
innovation and stasis (apologies in advance). The
oppressive social footprint, for example, has begun
to meet its match in the growing movement toward
parlor larps, the kind designed by groups like
WMILS, Shifting Forest Storyworks, Interactivities
Ink and Alleged Entertainment. Parlor larps that
last one to four hours and require no costuming
may bear close resemblance to improv theater, and
are also noticeably less of a time commitment than
the standard campus-based larps from the genesis
years of the hobby. They are able to be successfully
played by anyone with minimal gaming or theater
background. The counterproductive procedures of
play are being most acutely addressed by the Nordic
larps or larps in dialog with the art or theater world,
such as Brody Condon’s Level 5 (2010). To maintain the
consistency of their real and imagined experiences
and/or their immersion, players in such games usually
resolve conflict by way of talking it out as players/
characters, or performing tasks like staring, touching
or dancing that do not seem too “game-y.” Card
mechanics with complex math or iPad puzzles often
interpose themselves with the message “This art
event with a first-person audience is, in fact, just a silly
game.” Though randomizers and emulations of “the
world’s physics” appear necessary in some larps (such
as Starship Valkyrie), their shaky introduction by the
event’s coordinators can easily break anyone’s muchcoveted “flow.” Similarly, if we take Eirik Fatland at
his word that larp design is merely the anticipation of
player behavior and provision of specific incentives
within the affordances and constraints of any game,
then our larp design itself might broadcast misleading
signals to the players or reinforce the wrong behaviors
at the wrong time. Witness the moment a Vampire
larper shows up to a banquet in impressive full
costume, only to whip out their character sheet and
debate the merits of spending their Experience from
their last time between Celerity or Potence. Opaque
content – the silliness of the viral “lightning bolt” video,
for example – is slowly being overcome through mashup culture: larps featuring readily recognizable pop
cultural icons and familiar literary figures. Rather
than larps featuring highly personal characters in
customized fantasy worlds (i.e., the cargo cult model),
we are increasingly able to network with Cosplayers,
actors and other “dress-up” enthusiasts to create
personal experiences about fictions to which most have
access; living fanfics with increasingly accessible rules
and expectations. It is the “physically demanding”
factor with which many larps will have to contend, a
factor perhaps best addressed with the larps that
explore emotions over player-as-character movement,
exemplified by the games inspired by jeepform and its
adherents.
So in terms of that thorny notion we call “progress,”
my hope is to recognize the above “problems” as mere
design constraints, steadily diversify the kinds of larps
on offer and improve their quality while expanding the
player base from which we have to draw all the while.
Hopefully, established campaigns such as NERO or
One World By Night can learn lessons about gameplay
from the innovative boom in small-scale larps, while
the smaller larps can learn about organization and
finance from the larger campaigns. My fear is, however,
that the hobby/medium will age, become out-oftouch, and then suddenly some ambitious (likely white,
American, middle-class, heterosexual) male will not
only corporatize and monetize the whole operation, but
will also claim historical credit for it all – erasing our
histories as folk art craftspeople and eliding our past
community accomplishments. To mitigate the fear by
way of the hope, I do see further institutionalization
in the future of the hobby, particularly by way of
crowdsourced funding such as Kickstarter (which
requires some cultural leverage for a project to get
funded) or a lobby organization like in Denmark that
advocates for our increased time/space requirements.
Though geeks have more-or-less found themselves
playing the role of the middle-class around the world,
they must now use that political clout before the
resources are otherwise hoovered up by the 1% as they
shore up their fiefdoms against a world full of scarcity
they themselves created. It is, indeed, time to step up
and address the major challenges posed by the hobby
head-on.
IV
The corollary question for me is then: how is larp itself
a future-making activity? That is, how do larps make
ourselves and future human beings more helpful and
useful, and how do our larps themselves envision
alternate ways of being that may allude to future
organizational models?
Let’s begin with the obvious. Larpers acquire skills
by preparing for and participating in larps. They learn
to sew, to dramatically adapt works of art, to design
sets, and to fight. Sarah Lynne Bowman has convincingly
argued the case that larps help humans acquire skills
in the personal, interpersonal, cultural, cognitive and
professional spheres (Bowman 2010, 85-103), such
that the simulations run in military, corporate and
government contexts differ very little from the medium
which we use to act out tales of elves and robots. The
2012 Obama campaign stress-tested its electoral
tracking system by way of a larp-like challenge.
Various low-tech and high-tech skills co-mingle in a
given larp’s creation, as costume design, theatrical
coordination, web design and mobile app design
may be required in its execution. It is thus an activity
that selects and incentivizes certain types of human
behavior, identical in most ways to training, education
and theater exercises. The Artorian Order of the Knights
of Pendragon, for example, have their larpers train in
real-life CPR or art classes to grant the fictional status
of “healer” or “artist” on the character. Larpwrights
in theory hold an intoxicating amount of power in their
hands, a capacity to directly affect the future capabilities
and experiences of all the players.
With regard to this future-making capacity, there are
– interestingly enough – helpful lessons to learn from a
small performance group in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe. In
an article titled “How Movies Move,” Lesley Stern (2010)
describes the formation of the Amakhosi, a group of
Bulawayo kung fu fans in the 1970s and 80s from a poor
black township that decided to practice karate and
incorporate their martial arts into impromptu theater
productions. They did not have the capital to direct their
own kung fu films, but instead channeled their fandom
into very avant-garde performance art. “Imagine Brecht
meets Jackie Chan meets ingoma dance meets Dirty
Dancing,” Stern writes, “and you will begin to get the
picture of the kind of theater.” (Stern 2010, 192) This art
form, which practiced “fighting without fighting” – as
86
Bruce Lee once put it – also enacted gender equality
among its members and began to apply culturalpolitical pressure on Robert Mugabe in the 1990s and
00s. Its membership experienced crackdowns from the
Mugabe government, but those members who survived
have since become mainstays of the Zimbabwean
theater scene, capable of producing meaningful,
highly acrobatic works on the most minimal of funds.
This humble-but-noble theater emerged from Hong
Kong genre film fandom and became a folk art that
could speak truth to power, an art that gave many of
its practitioners skills, beliefs, and a sense of hope
that might have otherwise been denied them in their
social location. Against difficult economic odds, the
Amakhosi autonomously paved the way to their own
future through the teaching of specific skills (i.e., karate,
dance, concealing political critique) and envisioning
an alternate public-cultural sphere through which
their voices could be heard over the long term. As the
United States and the rest of the world face a protracted
economic “crisis,” our serious leisure communities
constitute real communities imparting real skills within
a political context. In the 19th Century, endangered
American agricultural workers came together to form
grange societies; in the 20th Century, workers formed
unions. Their impact, spaces, and institutions can still
be felt to this day. Jane McGonigal’s World Without
Oil or Trine Lise Lindahl’s (2012) excursion to teach
Nordic larp to populations in the Occupied Palestinian
Territories are both examples of game design leveled
at social change through incentivizing useful and
necessary skills, as well as alternative models to neoliberal, extractive capitalism that might employ those
skills. Larp has “grown up” as it were, which means it is
now time for it to clear itself a place of relevance in the
future.
Or is this future-making perspective altogether too
näíve? Annika Waern has expressed deep skepticism
about Mike Pohjola’s conjecture that “larp can change
the world.” After all, there is plenty of deep (white,
class-based) privilege that keeps the hobby in motion.
Social evolution meanwhile moves at a rate resembling
geological time – only incrementally do we perceive
profound changes in society, and its sluggish tectonics
are bound to disappoint even the most idealistic person
at some point. At the same time, our attention-based
media economy requires us to constantly offer novelty
and “the new” up for consumption in order for us to
remain “relevant” (thereby securing the necessary
eyeballs to keep operations running smoothly). In
practice, this state of eternal novelty is detrimental to
innovation, as old concepts are constantly re-packaged
and re-fed to audiences with little reflection on what
assumptions underlie them. Larp designers look to
the next new technique or scenario idea which will
earn them attention and approbation (thereby earning
them a place in the “future” of the hobby). But those
who do not know their history are doomed to repeat it;
much re-inventing of the wheel has gone on in the larp
hobby, and it has proved difficult enough to make the
medium of the first-person audience a meaningful and/
or enjoyable experience for all, let alone have it effect
widespread reevaluations of deep-seated ideologies
and beliefs in its players.
Perhaps a healthier attitude toward the futuremaking possibilities of larp can be found in Joshua
Landy’s 2012 literature study How to Do Things with
Fictions, in which he passionately and engagingly
argues that difficult literature is neither there to
deliver a message, nor to get us to empathize more
with humanity, nor to provide us with role model
figures whom we should emulate. Rather, fiction
“[clarifies] what we already believe, a process that is
morally neutral” (Landy 2012: 9). Like literature, larps
may “serve as simulation spaces, in which we may
experiment with a variety of strategies without the
costly consequences of adopting them in real life; they
function as battlegrounds in which different ways of
living, grounded in different belief systems, come into
conflict... [They] raise questions to which they give
no answers” (5). Landy’s insight echoes the recently
vogue idea of an active, playful reader; of a willing
activation of pretense replacing the old “suspension of
disbelief” model. Jaakko Stenros and Markus Montola
(2010) formulate a like-minded taxonomy with regard
to player agendas in larping: to escape, to explore, to
expose, and to impose. To say larps are simply for
escapism is to ignore the vast number of ways they
might be used to interact with our own realities. Thus
larps might usefully produce the future by clearly
articulating the contradictions of the present, by laying
out the embodied socio-psychological conflicts we all
must face as human beings, whether we are playing
steampunk raiders or squabbling divorcees. The best
literature is, above all, true to the spirit of its source
material. Delivering a “message” or encouraging
empathy is perhaps beyond the pale of what the larp
medium can do; firmly articulating the line between
a character’s social performance and own internal
conflicts is an act fully within its grasp. The larps that
will be remembered in posterity are likely not only
those which deeply impact their participants, but the
ones that present the larp medium as a medium, as a
useful means of interrogating human reality without
enacting judgment on said reality. When Aaron Vanek
(2009) stakes a claim that larp is “a distinct, unique Art
Form” (Vanek 2009, 5), I believe this is exactly what is
meant. We are able to express and improvise with our
bodies and voices in immersive secondary worlds of
our own collective imagination. Shall we not use the
medium to express their dilemmas as they are, so that
posterity can accurately judge who and what we were?
V
To tie up many of the above threads in a sentence: larp
as a medium has a future insofar as it pushes against the
boundaries that constrain it, and produces the future
by way of incentivizing certain skills and clearly (but
fictionally) articulating the social, political and cultural
strictures of the present. Touting new technologies,
audiences or scenarios is our usual rhetorical recourse
to talking about the future of larp, but this already
expresses to some degree our emotional commitments
to technological development as means of human
liberty, bigger audiences as a means to better
audiences, and emotional and ludic brinksmanship
as a pathway to true aesthetic experience. In other
words, it’s mere ideology, just like anything else. What
I suggest here is that designing larps that are easier for
the layperson to access – with understandable rules
and immediately accessible content that transparently
lays out its own fictional premises – may be the
paradoxical key to unlocking more highly visible and/or
experimental designs in the art form. Our designs can
always more elegantly meet our principles and goals
behind them. Nicolas Bourriaud (2009) recently posed
art as a “a mental expedition outside identitarian norms”
(77), and it is precisely such “expeditions” that are
required if we wish for the Great Gatsby or the Citizen
Kane of the form. We have to take informed risks, but
which are risks nonetheless. Bourriaud sees artists as
skeptics who inhabit multiple global-local (dare I say
“glocal”) spaces, and who then harness their craft to
comment on the truly alienating power of present-day
relations: “Welcome to the disposable world: a world
of customized destinies, governed by the inaccessible
mechanism of an economy that, like science, is
developing in a state of complete autonomy with respect
to lived reality” (Bourriaud 2009, 80). The future feels a
certain way to us, because of our specific sensitivity or
numbness to the present, because of our attentiveness to
the forces that move around us.
Truly inspirational are the larps that alter our futurity,
the ones that force us to reevaluate the very apparatus
with which we judge the state of things to come. Truly
inspirational are the larpers who, by playing through
our designs’ affordances and constraints, create new
ways to train and better themselves, to dream, to hope.
References
Bourriaud, Nicolas (2009). The Radicant. New York: Lukas and
Sternberg. Print.
Bowman, Sarah Lynne (2010). The Functions of Role-Playing
Games. Jefferson, North Carolina, and London:
McFarland & Company, Inc. Print.
Gerge, Tova (2012). “Larp and Aesthetic Responsibility: When
Just a Little Lovin’ Became an Art Debate.” In: States of
Play: Nordic Larp Around the World. Juhana Pettersson, ed.
Helsinki, Finland: Pohjoismaisen roolipelaamisen seura:
42-47. Print.
Landy, Joshua (2012). How to Do Things with Fictions. New York:
Oxford University Press. Print.
Lindahl, Trine Lise (2012). “Weddings and Anti-Condom
Activists: Introducing Larp in Palestine.” In: States of Play:
Nordic Larp Around the World. Juhana Pettersson, ed.
Helsinki, Finland: Pohjoismaisen roolipelaamisen seura:
35-41. Print.
Stenros, Jaakko and Markus Montola, eds. (2010) Nordic Larp.
Stockholm: Fëa Livia. Print.
Stern, Lesley (2010). “How Movies Move (Between Hong Kong
and Bulawayo, Between Screen and Stage...).” In: World
Cinemas, Transnational Perspectives. Natasa Durovicova
and Kathleen Newman, eds. New York: Routledge: 186216. Print.
Vanek, Aaron (2009). Cooler than You Think: Understanding Live
Action Role Playing. Web. http://www.scribd.com/mobile/
doc/33955116
Evan Torner is a German film academic, game
studies scholar and larpwright currently based out of
western Massachusetts. He has written scenarios for
Intercon and Fastaval, as well as articles for Lejends
magazine, Playground magazine, and the Nodal Point
(Knudepunkt/Solmukohta) convention books. With William
J. White, he co-edited the book Immersive Gameplay:
Essays in Role-Playing and Participatory Media
(McFarland, 2012). His research interests include genre
theory, critical race theory, Cold War film history, and
incentive models in game and pedagogical design.
88
Introduction to the Academic Section
Sarah Lynne Bowman
W
ith great pleasure, I present to you the
Academic Section of the 2012 Wyrd Con
Companion Book. Now in its third year,
Southern California’s Wyrd Con features
a range of larp activities, from boffer to theater style
to freeform games. Inspired by Knutepunkt—the
annual meeting dedicated to the discussion and
innovation of Nordic larp—Wyrd Con offers panels
for the practical and intellectual consideration of larp.
Since its inception, Wyrd Con has also followed
the Knutepunkt tradition of releasing a book of
companion articles each year. The first two volumes,
Journeys to Another World and Branches of Play, were
edited and designed by Amber Eagar. Eagar also
maintains several other online resources, including
the Larp Academia and International Larp Academia
mailing lists, as well as the US Larp Wiki. The larp
community owes Eagar our gratitude for establishing
these public spaces for the intellectual and academic
discussion of role-playing in America and beyond.
We also owe our gratitude to Wyrd Con’s founder
Ira Ham, who has consistently raised the bar for
intellectual inquiry into interactive storytelling with
each convention.
Continuing this tradition of compiling a
Companion Book for the convention, Aaron Vanek
and I decided to model this volume loosely after the
Knudepunkt books from 2011: Do Larp, which focuses
on documentation for games, Talk Larp, which offers
editorial articles, and Think Larp, which provides
rigorous, academic articles from various disciplinary
backgrounds. The journalistic section of The
WyrdCon Companion Book follows in the spirit of Talk
and Do by featuring editorial commentary, anecdotal
histories, and documentation. Inspired by Think, I
issued a general Call for Papers for submissions
to the academic section. I originally intended to
facilitate peer review for the papers; special thanks to
the volunteers who initially offered their services in
this capacity. Unfortunately, the low number of article
submissions made peer review untenable. Hopefully,
we can rectify this problem in future volumes.
America needs a regular publication channel for
scholarly work in role-playing studies. Role-playing
games have endured stigma and hostility from the
mainstream for decades. Though this stigma has
lessened somewhat in recent years due to the rise
in solid scholarship on the benefits of game play
and the popularity of RPG-based virtual games like
World of Warcraft, many scholars still face derision
in academic settings when attempting a serious
study of role-playing. While some departments in
the U.S. express openness toward research on roleplaying games, they generally insist that such studies
conform to their disciplinary paradigm. Applying
a disciplinary lens to role-playing certainly helps
us understand its various facets from alternate
perspectives; unfortunately, the majority of the
mentors helping scholars through the academic
system have no experience with the actual practice
of role-playing games, so their ability to provide
guidance remains limited. In the meantime, roleplaying theory has emerged from the ground up
in various communities such as Knutepunkt, New
England Interactive Literature, Wyrd Con, the LARP
Alliance, the Forge, Story Games, and RPG.net. Our
body of collective knowledge and theory pertaining
to this unique practice is immense, but not yet
codified in academic departments.
The challenge facing current role-playing
scholars is three-fold. First, they must translate their
experience into established, disciplinary language in
order to pass review in their respective departments
and journals. Second, they must successfully explain
the terminology and “folk knowledge” already
explored – and often disputed—within role-playing
communities, avoiding excessive, game-based
jargon. Third, they must establish and reference
a canon for this new field of role-playing studies,
which covers a large spectrum of topics arising from
various disciplines, theoretical frameworks, game
formats, and research methodologies.
I hope that The Wyrd Con Companion Book
and similar academic volumes, such as the recent
Immersive Gameplay volume edited by Evan Torner
and William J. White and the International Journal
of Role-playing, will continue to provide a venue
for serious academic discussion on role-playing
games. Though the essays contained within this
current edition do reflect the authors’ disciplinary
backgrounds—including psychology, pedagogy,
visual arts, and theater—each article also integrates
the lived experience of players and useful theories
arising from role-playing communities.
As much of the current research on role-playing
emerges from game studies or sociology, this volume
is unique in featuring four articles arising from
psychological theories and methods. While game
studies focuses upon play/design and sociology
examines behavior in a group setting, psychology
89
emphasizes the subjectivity of individuals. At its
core, role-playing is not just a game or a social
interaction, but is a personal, subjective experience.
These articles examine the nature of that subjective
experience from a variety of angles.
Whitney “Strix” Beltrán’s article, “Yearning
for the Hero Within: Live Action Role-Playing as
Engagement with Mythical Archetypes” applies a
depth psychology approach to the experience of
role-playing a character. Depth psychology and
comparative religion, arising largely from the works
of Carl Jung and Joseph Campbell, examine mythic
structures across cultures in order to investigate
how individuals make meaning and explore
their identities through stories and ritual. Beltrán
contextualizes depth psychology concepts, such
as archetypes and individuation, in terms of roleplaying games. She argues that archetypal material
within the game space fulfills the need for mythic
enactment usually provided by regular, religious
rituals. She also examines the relationship between
the character and the player, suggesting the term
“ego bleed” to explain the psychological transfer
of contents between the two identities during play.
Ultimately, Beltrán argues that the enactment of
alternate identities in role-playing games can lead to
greater personal and psychic growth if participants
take care to establish boundaries and understand the
deeper psychological forces at work.
Rafael Bienia offers a different take on the
psychology of players, investigating motivation.
Bienia examines various theories of player motivation
arising from role-playing communities such as The
Forge, RPG.net, and Wyrd Con. Drawing upon Rob
McDiarmid’s sixteen player motivations featured in
last year’s Branches of Play volume, Bienia collected
quantitative data from over 250 German larpers
on social media sites. Participants rated their
motivations for play, some suggesting additional
categories for motivation, which Bienia features in
the article. Ultimately, the findings indicate that the
German participants in the study felt most motivated
by larp’s social experiences, immersive aspects, and
crafting of props and costuming. This emphasis upon
Fellowship and other social motivations outweighed
the desire for competition, a surprising finding
for Bienia, as previous motivation models tend to
deemphasize the communal factors of larp.
Along similar lines, Nathan Hook’s “A Social
Psychology Study of Immersion Among Live
Action Role-players” examines the phenomenon
of immersion from a psychological perspective.
Drawing from ethnographic data gathered for
his Master’s thesis, Hook identifies instances of
participants’ use of the term “immersion” and
analyzes their contexts. Like Bienia, Hook indicates
immersion as a motivational goal for many players.
He also examines the strange phenomenon of the
character exerting influence over the player, which
he terms “possession.” Though scholars still contest
the meaning of the word “immersion,” analysis of
the context in which players use the term may yield
insights into the psychological mechanisms behind
character enactment.
Switching gears, the last two articles in the
volume examine the use of larp in classroom
environments. Yaraslau I. Kot’s “Educational Larp:
Topics for Consideration” provides an introduction
to educational larp (edu-larp) and guidelines for
teaching with the method. Kot explains edu-larp’s
rich history in Russia, where advocates of educational
innovation, such as Inokentiy Zhukov, promoted
the use of role-playing games in the classroom
as early as 1916-18. Next, the author lists several
types of educational larps and details the specific
functions of each permutation of the form. Drawing
from his experience as a psychologist, he offers a
series of tips for developing edu-larps, emphasizing
cognitive, affective, and physical objectives. The
author further suggests steps for creating an edu-larp
game, including the operating phases. Kot strongly
advocates a structured, “summing up” phase,
similar to debriefing in the Nordic tradition. While
he recognizes that not all students will find the larp
format appealing, Kot emphasizes the flexibility of
the form and the advantages inherent to engaging
student imagination.
Finally, Neal McDonald and Alan Kreizenbeck
provide documentation for their course on larp at the
University of Maryland, Baltimore Country. “Larp
in an Interdisciplinary University Course” offers
a detailed explanation of the authors’ Spring 2012
class in Visual Arts. The article provides a practical
assessment of this experimental course. Designed
by instructors from digital animation and drama, the
class featured several freeform games, readings
from the Knutepunkt books, and intensive theater
exercises. McDonald and Kreizenbeck evaluate
each exercise in terms of effectiveness and student
engagement, offering suggestions for similar courses
in the future. Ultimately, the authors propose that
teaching the enactment of larp might require a
separate course from the design of larp, particularly
when working with inexperienced students.
Viewed as a whole, these articles offer insights
into the psychology of larp enactment and its
pedagogical potential in classroom environments.
Though relatively recent in its current cultural form,
live action role-playing stems from an inherent,
human impulse: the reflexive examination of
subjective states through the mechanism of play. The
more we understand the psychological power of
90
role-playing as a form, the more we can harness its
potential for use in other areas, including education
and self-improvement. Hopefully, these articles will
work to further this understanding and stimulate
conversation on the nature of the role-playing
experience.
Works Cited
Andresen, Lars, et al, eds. Do Larp: Documentary
Writings from KP2011. Copenhagen, Denmark:
Rollespilsakademiet, 2011. http://rollespilsakademiet.
dk/kpbooks/do_larp_web.pdf.
Harviainen, J. Tuomas, and Marinka Copier, et al, eds. The
International Journal of Role-playing. 2012. Web. 13 Dec.
2012. http://journalofroleplaying.org/.
Eager, Amber, ed. Branches of Play: The 2011 WyrdCon
Academic Companion. 9 Jun. 2011. Web/PDF. 3
Dec. 2012. http://wyrdcon.com/2011/wp-content/
uploads/2011/06/100-copies-AcademicBook.pdf.
Eager, Amber. “International Larp Academia: Mailing List
for Those in the USA Who Want to Follow and Study
Larp on a More Academic Basis Around the World.”
Mortalisrpg.com. N.d. Web. 13 Dec. 2012. http://
mortalisrpg.com/mailman/listinfo/intllarpacademia_
mortalisrpg.com.
Raasted, Claus, ed. Talk Larp: Provocative Writings from
KP2011. Copenhagen, Denmark: Rollespilsakademiet,
2011. http://rollespilsakademiet.dk/kpbooks/talk_
larp_web.pdf.
Torner, Evan and William. J. White, eds. Immersive
Gameplay: Studies in Role-Playing and Media Immersion.
Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2012. Print.
Wyrd Con 4: Interactive Storytelling Convention. 2012. Web.
13 Dec. 2012. http://wyrdcon.com/.
US Larp Wiki. N.d. Web. 13 Dec. 2012. http://larpwiki.
mortalisrpg.com/index.php?title=Main_Page.
Sarah Lynne Bowman received her Ph.D.
from the University of Texas at Dallas in 2008. She also
holds a B.S. and M.A. from the University of Texas at
Austin in Radio-TV-Film. McFarland Press published her
dissertation in 2010 as The Functions of Role-playing
Games: How Participants Create Community, Solve
Problems, and Explore Identity. Her current research
interests include examining social conflict within roleplaying communities, applying Jungian theory to roleplaying studies, studying the benefits of educational
role-playing games, and contrasting the enactment of
role-playing characters with other creative phenomena,
such as drag. She teaches as an adjunct professor in
English and Communications.
Email contact: singingyoutoshipwreck@hotmail.com
Website: http://www.sarahlynnebowman.com
Eager, Amber, ed. Journeys to Another World: Articles on
Live-Action Role-Playing compiled for the 2010 Larp
Summit at WyrdCon. 2010. Web. 12 Dec. 2012.
http://www.mortalisrpg.com/?download=4
Eager, Amber. “Larp Academia: Mailing List for Those
in the USA Who Want to Follow and Study Larp on a
More Academic Basis.” Mortalisrpg.com. N.d. Web. 13
Dec. 2012. http://mortalisrpg.com/mailman/listinfo/
larpacademia_mortalisrpg.com.
Henriksen, Thomas Duus, et al, eds. Think Larp: Academic
Writings from KP2011. Copenhagen, Denmark:
Rollespilsakademiet, 2011. http://rollespilsakademiet.
dk/kpbooks/think_larp_web.pdf.
McDiarmid, Rob. “Analyzing Player Motives to Inform larp
Design.” Branches of Play: The 2011 WyrdCon Academic
Companion. Ed. Amber Eagar. 9 Jun. 2011. PDF file. 3
Dec. 2012. 3–25.
http://wyrdcon.com/2011/wp-content/
uploads/2011/06/100-copies-AcademicBook.pdf.
91
Yearning for the Hero Within:
Live Action Role-Playing as Engagement
with Mythical Archetypes
Whitney “Strix” Beltrán
Abstract
This work examines the relationship between larp
and depth psychology, explains how researchers can
use depth psychology as starting point for describing
what happens between players and their characters,
and provides language to describe the outcomes
of said interactions. The article briefly describes
archetypal engagement in Western and non-Western
environments and examines the rise of larp in the
West in the context of the societal need for myth. The
aim of this work is to illustrate how researchers can
use depth psychology as a theoretical framework
to evaluate certain functions of larp from a
psychological perspective. This work draws on the
ideas and research of academics across disciplines,
including psychology, anthropology, game studies,
and comparative mythology.
Keywords
Depth psychology, role-playing studies, myth,
archetype, larp, individuation, character, ego bleed
1. Establishing a language for larp
Live action role-playing games are notoriously
misunderstood. In its infancy, this genre of play
faced the Satanic Panic of the 1980s and 90s. From
there, larp struggled through to today, where in
the United States at least, role-playing is mostly
maligned as a fringe hobby for poorly adjusted
nerds and Lord of the Rings aficionados. However,
the international larp community is larger and more
vibrant than ever. Real discourse about the function
and meaning of larp is conducted all over the world,
from the annual Knutepunkt conferences in the
Nordic countries to Brazilian experimentation with
adaption of larp techniques in education (Schmit,
Martins, and Ferreira 75). Larp stands at the very
cusp of the mainstream, already spilling over in
some places. Nordic countries especially seem to
be at the forefront of this trend, where arts funding
is sometimes available for larp-related activities and
academic research. As this genre of play begins
to truly come into its own and to gain international
recognition as a valuable participatory art, scholars
must develop the vocabulary to articulate why larp
is important and what exactly goes on when players
engage in this activity.
Many scholars have begun to address larp as
the community struggles toward carving out its
own academic niche. As American scholars attempt
to catch up with the international academic larp
community as a whole, we will invariably find that we
are going to stumble upon ground already covered.
We also must write about what we know, and with that
in mind, this article largely addresses the American
larp audience and scene in its current state of selfknowledge and cultural milieu. Given the newness
of the discipline, it is often difficult to know where
to start. In our attempt to grasp larp, one of the
most basic places to begin is the examination of the
relationship between players and their characters. As
articulated in a recent thesis on larp by the UK scholar
Nathan Hook, some academics feel that larp is a new
creature entirely separate from other performing
arts and even other game paradigms when it comes
to player/character dynamics. Scholars must put
forward new theoretical models and research in
order to better understand the psychological process
occurring within a larp (Hook 7).
This paper examines basic principles of depth
psychology as related to larp through mythic
archetypal engagement, and intends to put forth
an elementary framework for understanding the
relationship between players and their characters
through this lens. Depth psychological terminology
and its interpretation of psychic structure is briefly
unpacked. Then, archetypes—as well as engagement
with archetypes across cultures—are examined,
including a perceived lack of archetypal engagement
in the modern West and the subsequent rise of larp
to address a societal need for myth. A new term,
ego bleed, is suggested, which is meant to describe
mid- to long-term effects of mythic archetypal
engagement as they relate to personality and
personal development. Ego bleed is differentiated
from the term bleed, which is characterized by more
92
immediate emotional responses to stimuli both
in- and out-of-game. The concept of individuation
is introduced as a positive outcome of mythic
archetypal engagement and the ego bleed that
ensues, but with due caution regarding stirring up the
unconscious and engaging suppressed parts of the
self, also known as the Shadow.
Depth psychology has its detractors, and has
fallen out of favor within the greater psychological
community. However, as academic progression of
the understanding of larp advances, it has proven
difficult to make any sort of measurement of functions
of player/character relationships within larp
using current scientific models such as cognitive,
psychodynamic, or behavioral psychology. This
difficulty greatly stalls the process of developing
relevant, working theories. The situation lends itself
to a more scientifically “outside of the box” approach
to thinking about the issue.
2. Depth Psychology as a tool for
understanding larp
In light of certain deficiencies in the ability to
address larp using current models, approaching
specific aspects of larp from a depth psychological
perspective becomes a valuable tool for tackling its
functions. This perspective is one tool of many, and
in the fluid and rapidly evolving thought paradigms
surrounding larp, it is essential to consider all
avenues of inquiry and evaluation. Depth psychology
specifically gives us a language and a means to
interpret the relationship between players and the
characters that they play. In addition, this theoretical
model can help illuminate the reason why a player
puts on the mask in the first place and what benefits
are reaped as a result.
To fully understand larp in the context of depth
psychology, a few concepts must be broken down.
First, one must have a basic understanding of depth
psychology itself. It began as a psychoanalytic
approach to therapy based on the theories of
Sigmund Freud, Alfred Adler, Carl Jung, and their
ilk. Many branch theories grew from psychoanalysis,
but the most notable and relevant to larp is the
work of Carl Jung and, later, James Hillman, who
developed Jungian psychology and Archetypal
psychology respectively. Also notable in this context
is the work of Joseph Campbell, a Jungian scholar of
comparative religion.
Depth psychology presupposes that the human
psyche is actually a process. This process is
partly conscious, partly semi-conscious, and party
unconscious (Jung, Man and His Symbols, 42). If, for
example, we view the psyche as a body of water,
then what is commonly considered our “self” lies
near the top. This self is commonly called the ego.
Deeper patterns of personality lie near the middle
in what is known as the personal unconscious. Still
lower are all the things that we repress, and in
the dark depths lurk the collective and archetypal
structures that connect us with the universal
human experience, also known as the collective
unconscious. There has been significant debate
as to what exactly the collective unconscious is.
Whether the collective unconscious is an actual
shared psychic space, a fundamental knowledge
genetically imprinted into all people, or something
else entirely is beyond the scope of this paper.
The human psyche actively creates mythic
symbolism and patterns. Therefore, the psyche
is an engine of the metaphysical, giving itself a
framework with which to work in attempting to
understand the fundamental nature of being and
of the world, as well as serving the base function
of survival. The underlying importance is that all
humans make myths, whether spiritual or nonspiritual, and our engagement with these myths is
meaningful and important (Campbell, The Power
of Myth 2). The archetypes found in myths are a
reflection of structures hidden deep within every
person. Myth itself is a vital medium of human
symbolism and storytelling, not simply an ignorant
explanation for natural events, as was so often
thought around the turn of the twentieth century by
most Western scholars of myth (Bulfinch ix), and
sometimes still believed today. The scholarship
of both myth and psychology has dramatically
advanced since then, although, as previously
discussed, a resistance to the depth psychological
approach has evolved since Jung’s time.
2.1 Archetypes
I will now address the idea of archetypes within
the context of depth psychology. An archetype in
the most basic terms is a personality pattern (Jung,
Man and His Symbols, 58). Archetypes are models
that appear repeatedly in mythological figures and
images across cultures and throughout the human
experience. There is an important distinction to be
made, which often confuses those unfamiliar with
Jung’s terminology. Specific archetypal figures—for
instance, the Femme Fatale, the Trickster, the Outcast,
and the Great Mother—are not archetypes as such,
but are considered to be particular archetypal
images derived from what Jung calls “archaic
remnants” or “primordial images.” These archaic
remnants are true archetypes, while particular
archetypal figures are conscious representations of
93
them with variable traits (Man and His Symbols 57).
These archetypal figures should be immediately
identifiable to most people. Archetypes often
incarnate as gods, spirits, local legends, and cultural
heroes. They can also be found in many Western
media character tropes. Archetypes give context
and clarity to human experience. As Jung explains,
“All the most powerful ideas in history go back to
archetypes... the central concepts of [religion,]
science, philosophy and ethics are no exception to
this rule” (Jung and Storr 16).
The use of these archetypes is varied, but the
tendency to turn them inward makes them useful
for larp studies. While a certain universality is
understood, the archetypes embedded in one’s
own personal psychic landscape make them useful
for unpacking the ongoing process of interaction
between players and their characters. Though a large
variety of archetypal figures exist, Jung emphasized a
handful throughout his works, which I will address in
brief later in this paper.
Much can be gained from pairing larp with the
concept of mythic, archetypal exploration. Sarah
Lynne Bowman, a scholar of role-playing games, puts
it succinctly: “Human beings need fantasy for healthy
psychic and social life. Regardless of time, space,
or cultural background, the constraints of every
day society offer limited roles for people to inhabit”
(Functions 7). When a player chooses a character to
enact in a larp, they typically have a role to fill, i.e.
an archetypal figure to emulate. Examples include
the group’s healer, the lovable rogue, an anti-hero,
or perhaps even a villain. Larp gives players access
to roles they would not have the ability to occupy in
everyday life, thus stimulating the development of
their own internal archetypes. Instead of remaining
defined and fenced in by a narrow identity, the
psyche has a chance to examine experiences in other
climes of mental and emotional space, allowing for an
opportunity of expansion of the self (127).
In a later publication, Bowman elaborates upon
how this process is possible and why a player’s
identity does not necessarily follow them into a
larp (“Jungian Theory and Immersion”). Enacting
characters supersedes the limits of players’ everyday
roles so that they may engage more directly with
archetypes by relaxing their own egos. Bowman
believes that to achieve this relaxed ego, players
can and do enter into a “liminal state” together,
meaning a state of consciousness that is “betwixt
and between,” evoking the Jungian concept of active
imagination. Role-playing is a ritualistic space in
which a “magic circle” is established, a collectively
agreed upon protective frame around the liminal
space that players occupy during a larp (32-37). This
certain set of conditions must be present in order for
players to evoke and engage archetypes; indeed, in
rituals unrelated to larp, the same conditions manifest
themselves when groups of people engage directly
with myth.
3. Archetypal engagement across
cultures
Here in the West, and especially in America,
pervasive problems with identity and meaning have
emerged. In many non-Western and indigenous
cultures, rites, traditions, and strictures give form
and sustenance to the human need for myth and
archetypal engagement. As Campbell explains, “It
has always been the prime function of mythology and
rite to supply the symbols that carry the human spirit
forward” (Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces,
10). The world is rich with living models in which
people are given access to exploring and engaging
archetypes. In Haiti, Voodoo practitioners dance and
drum in rituals in which they become “possessed”
by the Loa, their gods. Practitioners believe that they
literally become an incarnated god, a personified
archetype, for a short time (Deren 230). In her book
on the subject, Maya Deren further expounds upon
ethnic dances, a perspective that offers a unique
illumination to larp:
Since theatrical performance, in our culture, is
necessarily a statement of virtuosity addressed
to an audience, the ethnic dances (which are
predicated on the collective participation,
presume a common agreement and knowledge
among the participants, and are addressed to
divinity) can only be greatly and fundamentally
distorted in theatrical presentation. In ritual
dances the inevitable personalization of
movements remains minimal and subtle in the
extreme, since there is no audience to provoke
their development and exaggeration. Courlander,
in his notes to an album of Haitian recordings,
states: “While Haitian dancing is packed with
elements of drama, probably the most important
thing about it is that it is primarily participative.
Where there may be an audience, that audience
is secondary, usually composed of resting
participants... the prime reason for the dance is
participation.” (230)
Despite the fact that Deren’s book was written
before modern role-playing games existed, this
passage hits upon an integral component of
archetypal engagement in larp; namely, larp is
participative and has only a first-person audience,
which is key to forming the magic circle mentioned
94
earlier. This magic circle does not exist solely within
larp, but in many other participative rituals as well.
Another example comes from the diaspora of
Africa, where events known as masquerades are
frequent religious and political happenings across
many nations. Participants dress as embodiments
of ideas, devils, spirits, and identities. An age-old
tradition, masquerades are still relevant today.
In a National Geographic article documenting
masquerades entitled “African Masks,” Cathy
Newman writes:
...the mask is more than mere facade. It is utterly
transformative. The man in the mask... may speak
in a different voice, move differently, behave
differently, because he is a different being. The
mask is put on. The line between reality and
illusion, god and man, life and death blurs. The
masked man is not playing a role. He becomes the
role. (Newman)
Again, we see the recurrence of two important
themes: participation and the ability to engage
directly in non-typical roles in a liminal space.
There are volumes worth of further examples in the
literature of comparative mythology and religious
studies, such as James Frazer’s The Golden Bough,
Wade Davis’ The Serpent and the Rainbow, the works
of Max Müller, Claude Lévi-Strauss, and others.
However, these two examples provide an adequate
representation for the points regarding larp. A
common theme in cultures across the world is setting
aside one’s own identity for a time in order to take up
another, more essential kind of role. The communal
ritualization of this action is integral to the health and
stability of a given community. Through this lens, larp
can be seen as a newer vehicle of an ancient human
tradition of archetypal engagement.
3.1 A lack of archetypal engagement in the West
In the post-modern West, these avenues for
engaging myth have mostly been stamped out or
rendered empty and meaningless. There are few, if
any, equivalents in our culture to the ethnic dances of
our non-Western counterparts. We have few cultural
signals to know when individuals have come of age
and sparse guideposts to tell us what it means to be
a man, a woman, or how to deal with death. These
cravings and questions may have contributed to the
rise of role-playing games in the West. With no other
outlet, a new type of archetypal engagement was
spontaneously formed to address a real human need
to get out of one’s own skin. To some, this concept
may seem backwards. Surely, we are better off than
“primitive” people, who blamed unfavorable events
on evil spirits, but as Jung puts it, “...the terrors that
stem from our elaborate civilization may be far more
threatening than those that primitive people attribute
to demons” (Man and His Symbols 31).
Modern thought and science has supposedly
expunged the irrational demons of old and the need
for myth from the earth in a fit of light and reason.
However, as we have come to learn, those old
demons have only changed names:
We can congratulate ourselves on having already
reached such a pinnacle of clarity, imagining that
we have left all these phantasmal gods behind. But
what we have left behind are only verbal specters,
not the psychic facts that were responsible for the
birth of the gods. We are still as much possessed
by autonomous psychic contents as if they were
Olympians. Today they are called phobias,
obsessions, and so forth; in a word, neurotic
symptoms. (Jung, “Commentary” 37)
In short, we have the same old problems with
new faces. We lack the old tools, though, and now
we need ones that align with a decidedly unmagical,
post-modern world.
We have coped, in part, by keeping our old
myths alive in the ways that we could. Strong
mythic archetypes occupy large swaths of territory
in Western media. From movies to soap operas to
reality TV, rich archetypes abound. George Lucas, in
creating the Star Wars saga, specifically identified the
growth of the character Luke Skywalker with Joseph
Campbell’s concept of the monomyth, or Hero Cycle,
a supposed universal formula for a mythic journey
or experience (The Power of Myth xiii). In turn,
the story of Lucas’ hero has shown near universal
appeal and has become one of the most popular
franchises ever. Though this story is consumed often
by audiences, it does not seem to satiate consumers
entirely. Consumption of media is missing two
components that would make it a truly effective
means of archetypal engagement: the activation of a
participatory liminal space and the ability to directly
interact with a character/archetype that is not one’s
self through active imagination.
Joseph Campbell’s formula of the monomyth and
its associated archetypes have consciously been
applied to larp in the past, such as in Nathan Hook’s
article “Larp of a Thousand Faces.” The title is an
homage to Campbell’s The Hero with a Thousand
Faces, where Campbell writes about the hero’s
journey in depth. Hook asserts that each player
enacts an archetypal hero’s journey through their
character. When speculating upon the relationship
between characters and their players, Hook states:
95
Should the players rather than their characters
experience the internal changes and emotive
power of the journey? I’m confident Campbell
would say they should, that larp can be living
myth with the same potential for personal
transformation as mystery plays or religious
rites. Campbell claimed the cinema had replaced
temple mystery plays; shamans replaced not by
[socially] ordained priests but by artists who seek
personal insight. Greg Stafford (co-founder of
Chaosium, author of the Pendragon tabletop RPG)
took this further and claimed that role-playing
offers a way for modern people to reconnect with
myth in an active way in contrast to the passive
nature of films. (38)
whether or not to shoot by physically releasing the
bowstring. By corporeally incarnating the role of
“archer” through active imagination, the player gains
much more insight into the role than by saying, “My
character shoots an arrow.” Physical participation
is key to bridging the gap between “thinking” and
“becoming,” resulting in more successful physical
and inner (psychic) immersion.
Larp is the West’s solution to addressing the need
to explore and connect with other roles and states of
physical and emotional being—essentially, to “live”
myth. Whether for an hour, an evening, or years of
a story cycle, larp empowers players to seek out
experiences they would never have in day to day life.
Bowman states:
Hook also sees larp as a ritual space,
acknowledging the magic circle as a transportive
mechanism that allows players to engage directly
with mythic archetypes. Again, we see the rise of larp
as correlated to a deep need for such engagement left
unfulfilled by other, more passive means commonly
found in the West.
Games and scenarios allow participants the
opportunity to “try on different hats” of selfhood,
experimenting with the adoption of personality
characteristics that either amplify or contradict
aspects of their primary identities. Role-playing
environments provide a safe atmosphere for
people to collectively enact new modes of
self-expression and experience a sense of ego
permeability while still maintaining their primary
identity in the “real world.” (Functions 127)
4. Engagement
Combined together, these two components of the
Again, we see the similarities in description
magic circle and direct role engagement in a liminal
between Bowman’s explanation of role-playing
space set larp apart from media consumption and
games, Hook’s application of the monomyth, and the
other theatrical and gaming activities. Traditional
previous passage by Deren describing ethnic dances.
theatre separates audience from performer, and so
In describing engagement itself, the language
audience members are still left on the outside of the
and theory structure of depth psychology becomes
mythic experience. Though some have attempted
valuable in expounding upon the functions of larp. In
crossover between larp and theatre, such efforts
the context of larp, archetypal engagement is a form
have proven problematic. Johanna MacDonald, a
of learning in which archetypal modes of thought and
performance artist and larp enthusiast, states in her
personality are experienced by a participant. Players
Nordic Larp Talk that past attempts at blending the
who would not otherwise have access to these modes
two have met with failure, asserting that “there is a
can absorb these archetypes, at some level, into their
fundamental aesthetic conflict from performing arts
worldview and self-understanding.
to larp” (MacDonald).
Most other games do support some level of
integration with a character, but not as fully as larp. In 4.1 Ego bleed
tabletop role-playing games, for example, a player
would verbalize, “My character shoots an arrow at
One of the processes of transference possible
the enemy” rather than shooting arrows themselves.
between player and character during engagement is
There is a significant barrier between the player and
ego bleed. In the larger academic larp community, a
the character that they enact. The player conceptually similar term exists, stated simply as “bleed.” Bleed
understands the act of shooting arrows at enemies,
was first used academically in Markus Montola’s
but may have no previous visceral knowledge of
“The Positive Negative Experience in Extreme Roleexperiencing such a moment of combat. Larp, while
Playing.” However, this specific idea of bleed centers
thankfully not allowing people to shoot actual arrows
around direct transference of emotions between
at each other, can afford a player something close to
player and character, such as two characters falling
the experience of stringing a bow, feeling its taunt
in love and their players developing feelings in
weight on their fingertips, aiming it at an enemy
real life as a result. The term “bleed” has become
while under frantic pressure, and ultimately deciding largely unspecific and relatively undefined since its
96
first use. Every scholar has a different take. For this
reason, I suggest using the term “ego bleed” to more
effectively differentiate what is meant by the phrase.
Bleed in any form is not easily observed or measured
and so it is a difficult subject to approach from an
academic perspective. However, ego bleed is a real
phenomenon that should not be ignored.
The term ego bleed is specific in that it pertains
less to emotions and more to the transference
of overall identity patterns during play both in
immediacy and over time. An example of ego bleed
might be a propensity for hedonism in a player to
express itself through the same propensity emerging
in the actions and thoughts of their character, and
vice versa. Ego bleed is a two way channel in which
fragments of personality are passed between the
player and their character.
When a player enters into archetypal engagement
during larp, it is therefore possible to experience ego
bleed in which an archetypal characteristic inherent
in a character type or role “rubs off” on a player. As
a hypothetical example, consider a young female
player who does not particularly like children in
real life. Perhaps she cuts off the nurturing aspect of
herself too much in her personal relationships with
other adults in an attempt to maintain a consistent
internal view of herself. If this woman were to play a
character who evoked the Great Mother archetype,
she would come to experience nurturing others
without threatening her primary identity. On both a
conscious and unconscious level, she would absorb
the lessons learned from enacting the Great Mother
and perhaps even begin to incorporate them into
herself. She may even come to realize that she can
nurture her loved ones while still not enjoying the
company of children.
Ego bleed is an important concept to incorporate
into the language of depth psychology in dealing
with larp because, when addressed as a directional
transference of traits from character to player, it gives
a name to one of the mechanisms of individuation.
When players actively engage an archetype, they
directly experience modes of behavior, thought, and
emotion from which their psyche can learn if it can
successfully integrate these experiences.
4.2 Individuation
Individuation as a whole is a complex subject
beyond the scope of this article, as are many other of
the themes that have been addressed. In the depth
psychological tradition, individuation is a form of
psychological integration of the self, a process that
can lead to personal expansion and better internal
psychic balance. Jung originally linked individuation
with dream interpretation (Man and His Symbols 3);
he had never accounted for role-playing games, as
they did not yet exist in their current form when
he developed his theories. Jung did postulate that
individuation was a natural process and that other
forms of free association and active imagination could
also provide avenues for individuation (Symbols of
Transformation 62).
Bowman has thought along the same lines. When
speaking of the effects of game play on the self after
the dissolution of the magic circle, she states, “The
Ego identity and persona must now come to terms
with the content unearthed by the liminal moments
of the game” (“Jungian” 13). This coming to terms is
part of the integration of those experiences within the
greater individuation process.
Jung felt that there were stages to individuation in
which people engaged different types of archetypes
depending on where they were in life and how far
along they were in the individuation process already
(Man and His Symbols 171). Among these archetypes
are the Anima/Animus (feminine/masculine aspects
of the self), the Trickster, the Hero, and the Shadow,
which is the antithesis self, made up of all the
suppressed parts of one’s personality. The process of
individuation is meant to integrate all of these selves
into the whole of the personality over time. A parallel
is shown in Bowman’s “four stages” of character
evolution as players and characters develop together
over time. Additionally, she lists nine archetypal
character types with which players may at some
point engage as their experiences lead to continual
psychic growth (Functions 157-178).
Worthy to note here is perhaps the most
interesting and misunderstood of Jung’s archetypes:
the Shadow. By its very nature, it breaks conventions
and plays with taboos. It takes an already somewhat
individuated and experienced player to engage
their Shadow in a way that is both meaningful and
safe for themselves and other players within a larp
setting. Engaging the Shadow can be rewarding, but
too often, when the Shadow is engaged before it is
appropriate, all manner of chaos and unintended
emotional strife can ensue. Players who are less self
aware may get in over their heads if they unleash a
suppressed part of themselves that they are not ready
to deal with yet or may not be able to control, thus
unbalancing themselves too much and potentially
causing emotional harm to those around them.
Anecdotally, games like Vampire: the Masquerade
and Call of Cthulhu seem to engender engagement
with the Shadow more often because of their darker
themes and nature of play. While this engagement
is not necessarily problematic, the more people
involved with engaging the Shadow in a game, the
more likely that one of them will have difficulty
97
coping maturely with exposure to that archetype.
This causes problems both in- and outside of the
game and undermines the cohesiveness of the larp
community.
When a participant chronically plays over a long
period of time, a certain level of ego bleed from the
character to the player is inevitable; those traits that
the player continually enacts as their character will
eventually integrate at least partially into the player’s
understanding of self. Thus, playing a brave knight
might help a player more truly understand what it
is to be brave and incorporate that knowledge into
the self. However, the same may be true for an evil,
manipulative, vampire character played over the
same amount of time. The phrase “you are what you
eat” comes to mind. Ego bleed can be both a positive
and negative force. Caution is always advised.
Bowman and Jung also agree that individuals
engaged in these states should not lose sight of real
life:
...Jung warned against dwelling too long in states
of active imagination, for the psychosis of the
unconscious could override the Ego and create
an even greater imbalance. Thus, a return back
to the mundane persona with proper integration
of the material experienced in the liminal state
must occur for the individuation process to be
considered successful. (“Jungian” 14)
This is perhaps why in most non-Western cultures,
mythic archetypal engagement occurs largely during
specific ritualized events with a clear beginning
and end. These rituals are generally supervised by
a priest, shaman or other kind of designated leader.
The process of individuation is beneficial, but needs
healthy constraints.
As previously discussed, in many non-Western
societies, opportunities for individuation through
archetypal engagement are an integrated part of
the culture. The West offers decidedly less avenues
leading to the same destination. Viewing larp
as a response to the need for mythic, archetypal
engagement and, thus, resulting in individuation,
begins to make sense. All people stand to gain
from the benefits of individuation, a natural process
derived at least in part from ego bleed resulting from
archetypal engagement.
5. Looking Forward
After considering these concepts, the
theoretical picture starts to come into view. When
depth psychology is used as a tool to examine the
processes and outcomes between players and their
characters in larp, a rich subtext is then brought
into focus. Archetypal engagement is a universal
human activity across cultures, but because of the
beliefs held in the post-modern West, it becomes
difficult to find such avenues of engagement. Due
to its specific qualities, larp has evolved as such an
avenue, perhaps because of the inherent human
need to experience myth. When players engage
mythic archetypes through larp, they can experience
ego bleed, a process by which fragments of
personality are passed both ways between players
and their characters with both immediate and
long term outcomes. This exchange of personality
characteristics with an archetypal character can lead
to individuation, which, in the depth psychological
tradition, is a form of integration of the self. This
integration of self can have many benefits, such
as personal and psychic growth and fulfillment;
however, the path is not without its own dangers.
Future scholarship can expand specific
elements within this article, including: larp’s link
with communal ritual, a more in-depth discussion
of bleed, immersion, the work of James Hillman,
and the differences between American and other
larp cultures, as “the West” requires greater
differentiation. However, this study sets a solid
foundation for the blending of larp and depth
psychology and, hopefully, the academic discussion
of the mingling of these two ideas will continue.
98
Works Cited
Bowman, Sarah Lynne. The Functions of Role-Playing Games.
Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2010. Print.
—. “Jungian Theory and Immersion in Role-playing
Games.” Immersive Gameplay: Essays on Participatory
Media and Role-Playing. Ed. Evan Torner and William J.
White. Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2012. 31-51. Print.
Bulfinch, Thomas. Bullfinch’s Age of Fable, or Beauties of
Mythology. Philadelphia: David McKay, 1898. Print.
Campbell, Joseph. The Hero with a Thousand Faces.
Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2004. Print.
—. The Power of Myth. New York: Anchor Books, 1988.
Print.
Davis, Wade. The Serpent and the Rainbow. New York: Simon
& Schuster, 1985. Print.
Deren, Maya. Divine Horsemen: The Living Gods of Haiti. New
York: McPherson & Company, 2004. Print.
MacDonald, Johanna. “From Performing Arts to Larp—
Johanna MacDonald.” Nordic Larp Talks. 11 Apr. 2012.
Video/Web. 08 Nov. 2012. http://nordiclarptalks.org/
post/20957946341/from-preforming-arts-to-larpjohanna-macdonald.
Montola, Markus. “The Positive Negative Experience in
Extreme Role-Playing.” Proceedings of Nordic DiGRA
2010: Experiencing Games: Games, Play, and Player.
2010. Web. Sept. 2012.
http://www.digra.org/dl/db/10343.56524.pdf.
Newman, Cathy. “African Masks.” National Geographic.
National Geographic Society, 2012. Web. 25 Aug.
2012. http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2012/04/
african-masks/newman-text.
Schmit, Wagner Luiz, João Batista Martins, and Thales
Ferreira. “Role-playing Games and Education
in Brazil: How We Do It.” Larp, the Universe, and
Everything. Ed. Matthijs Holter, Eirik Fatland,
Even Tømte. Knutpunkt 2009. 75-96. Web. 1 Dec.
2012. http://knutepunkt.laiv.org/2009/book/
RolePlayingGamesAndEducationInBrazil/kp09_
RolePlayingGamesAndEducationInBrazil.pdf.
Frazer, James G. The Golden Bough. New York: Avenel
Books, 1981. Print.
Hook, Nathan. Identities at Play: An Ethnographic Study of the
Psychological Experience of Recreational Role-Players
Created and Being Recreated by Fictional Identities.
Thesis. The Open University, 2012. Web. Sept. 2012.
http://www.lulu.com/shop/nathan-hook/identities-atplay/ebook/product-20328256.html.
—. “Larp of a Thousand Faces: Applying Mythic
Structure to Larp.” Playing Reality. Ed. Elge Larsson.
Knutpunkt 2010. Stockholm, Sweden: Interacting
Arts, 2010. 29-42. http://nordiclarpwiki.org/w/
images/9/97/2010-Playing.Reality.pdf.
Jung, Carl G. and Anthony Storr. The Essential Jung.
Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1983. Print.
Jung, Carl G. “Commentary on the Secret of the Golden
Flower.” Alchemical Studies, Collected Works, Vol. 13.
Trans. R. F. C. Hull. Princeton: Princeton University
Press, 1968. Print.
—. Man and His Symbols. London: Pan Books Ltd., 1978.
Print.
—. Symbols of Transformation: An Analysis of the Prelude
to a Case of Schizophrenia, Vol. 2. Trans. R. F. C. Hull.
New York: Harper & Brothers, 1962. Print.
Whitney “Strix” Beltrán is a writer,
speaker, and mythologist who has studied myth, faerie
tales, and folklore from around the world for most of
her life. She is currently a doctoral student at Pacifica
Graduate Institute, where she is pursuing a Ph.D. in
Mythological Studies with an emphasis in Depth
Psychology. Her research background is in Central and
South American ritual and mythic systems, for which she
has traveled extensively throughout Peru and Ecuador.
However, she has an evolving interest in available
modes of mythic archetypal engagement in the modern
West. She also likes to larp.
Email contact: Whitney.Beltran@my.pacifica.edu
Why Do Players Larp?
Motivations for Larping in Germany
99
Rafael Bienia
Abstract
This article investigates player motivations for
participating in live action role-playing (larp) games.
Previous attempts to classify larp motivation led to
several different typologies. This paper seeks to shed
light on the prominent motivations of German larpers.
In July 2011, the researcher started a discussion
on social media sites to prioritize and modify the
sixteen common larp motivations suggested by Rob
McDiarmid in the last Wyrd Con book. The study
used participatory observation to provide answers
from the German larp community in order to correct
or justify previous theories. The results of the study
rank Fellowship, Embodiment, Flow, Catharsis,
and Crafting as the top five motivations for larp. A
discussion of the results is provided at the end of
the article. A call for comparable studies shows the
possibilities for future research.
I have discussed larp express curiosity, but have
difficulties understanding the motivations that cause
people to engage in this hobby.
This study asked larpers to provide an answer
to the motivation question from the community
itself. The first step to answering this question is to
contextualize this study within previous attempts to
understand role-playing motivation. In the second
step, I show the results of a discussion with larpers
regarding their motivations. The discussion started
with an open, online survey with German larpers in
the summer of 2011. The participants could choose
from several categories of motivation based on Rob
McDiarmid’s list from Branches of Play: The 2011
WyrdCon Academic Companion (5-6). Participants
were also allowed to add their own suggestions to
the list. The third step of this article summarizes the
results. Finally, the article interprets the results in
terms of what drives larpers to participate.
2. Disclosure
Keywords
This study is part of my dissertation project on
role-playing games at Maastricht University, which
I started in 2011. My research is part of the project
Narrative Fan Practices: A Key to Cultural Dynamics
funded by the Dutch organization for cultural research
Nederlandse Organisatie voor Wetenschappelijk
Onderzoek (NWO). Before my work, I spent six years
within the German larp community. I have participated
1. Introduction
in approximately forty events in the roles of player
character,
non-player character, and organizer. The
This article seeks to investigate the motivations
genres
included
high and low fantasy (Alcyon X-XVI,
for larping. As larpers become more and more
2006-2012; Schwarzbernstein, 2009), 1920s Cthulhu
visible to society, their motivations are often reduced
(Das Vermächtnis, 2008), and alternative reality
to two common stereotypes. First, larp is considered
(Obscurus 2, 2012).
an activity primarily for fans of the fantastic genres,
including fantasy, science fiction, and horror. Second,
The game types included mainly what are known
popular movies such as Role Models (2008) enforce
in Germany as “adventure,” “fest,” “tavern,” and
the stereotype of the larper as a foolish character
“nightie” larps. Adventure is the most common larp
who serves the comedy genre. Other films follow
format played during a weekend, including fighting,
the tradition of Mazes and Monsters (1982) in order to
riddles, and diplomacy, often in the fantasy genre.
exploit a common fear that larpers are dissociative,
Fest larp is the abbreviation of “Schlachtenfest”
troubled individuals trapped in their delusions of
and focuses on violent and diplomatic negotiations
reality. Arising from the horror genre, this tradition
between hundreds (Epic Empires) and thousands
goes back to Robert Louis Stevenson’s novel Strange
of players (Conquest of Mythodea, Drachenfest),
Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1886), but misses the
but allows for other sorts of typical role-playing
depth of this prominent example of fiction. Despite
activities. Tavern larps are single evening events
the pop cultural discourse, most people with whom
focusing on social activities. They are easier to
Motivation, larp, social psychology, role-playing
studies, ethnography, quantitative, Germany, creative
agenda
100
in 1999-2005 (Edwards). Edwards suggests three
organize as they are less expensive with regard
types of role-playing gamers: gamist, narrativist,
to money and time. The organizers require
and simulationist. The gamist is often associated
comparably less decoration and preparation, as
with competitive play. Fighting, winning, and other
a pub is rented for one evening (Smoker’s Lounge,
ways to achieve predefined goals motivate the
2012). Participants have the opportunity to larp, but
gamist to participate. The narrativist is interested
still have the rest of the weekend free to spend
in the development of the story, manifested in her
outside of the game. For example, participants
character’s background, motives, and/or the fictional
can spend this spare weekend time with a partner
setting. The simulationist is generally interested in
who might not play. “Nighties” is the jargon name
the suspension of disbelief. She is motivated by the
for larps that are played during one night. Among
illusion of being “in another world.” These three
fantasy larps, nighties are rare as they demand
types influenced the emerging larp theory, which
much preparation for a limited amount of players,
is loosely connected to pen’n’paper role-playing.
space, and time (BAM! From Dusk till Dawn, 2010).
In 2000, Finnish larper Mike Pohjola advocated for
The amount of days of constant play ranges from
“immersion”
as the most important category for live
one night to one week, with the weekend game as the
action role-playing. He made his ideas explicit in
most common format in Germany. The common play
culture of larping in Germany emphasizes character “The Manifesto of the Turku School,” stressing the
importance of immersion for role-playing in addition
immersion all day and night with some exceptions,
to the artistic expression (Pohjola).
such as when safety requires breaking character. In
previous years, I have participated in one-shots and
These four categories help provide an initial
series of annual events, also known as “campaigns.”
orientation for what might drive role-players to
Campaign games are played once or several times in participate, but they have difficulty reflecting
the year. For example, Alcyon by the Fantasiewelten
different nuances. Simply adapting categories
e.V. has run for more than sixteen years, though even
from pen’n’paper to live action games ignores
older campaigns persist.
their differences. Despite similarities, research
A challenge for me using participatory observation has shown that, in the past, larp and other roleplaying games have influenced each other, but do
in larp is to balance three roles: me, the character
not necessarily have roots in the same origin. The
I play, and my role as a researcher. If I choose to
fallacy of considering Dungeons & Dragons (Gygax
participate in playing, switching between the three
roles is difficult. If I choose to observe as a researcher, and Arneson) as the material prima of role-playing
has been proven wrong by several publications.
distancing myself from my observations is necessary.
One way to solve this problem is to compare my results Markus Montola provides the most recent overview
of the previous research in his dissertation chapter
with insights from other participants. Thus, I deploy
on the origins of tabletop and live action role-playing
other methods like qualitative interviews and simply
(Montola 108–111).
talking with other larpers offline and online. This
study is the result of an open discussion reflecting my
Rob McDiarmid’s 2011 article offers an alternative
findings on larp motivations.
list for categorizing motivations in larp. “Analyzing
Player Motives to Inform Larp Design” reflects the
perspective of a larp designer and illustrates different
reasons
to engage in this hobby (McDiarmid 3-25).
3. Motivation
The author attempts to find motivations in the typical
narrative of larp itself; characters have to react to
Previous research on motivation concentrated
a
threat, either forcing them to run or to overcome
on tabletop, or “pen’n’paper,” role-playing games.
an obstacle. The players then decide upon further
Especially among the first online communities, like
action, eventually surviving the threat. McDiarmid
newsgroups (rec.games.frp.advocacy) and forums
analyses players and provides sixteen categories. The
(The Forge and RPG.net), several models emerged.
description of each category is provided in Table 1 of
For a detailed overview and links to most documents, I
recommend John H. Kim’s “RPG Theory” website (Kim). the Results section of the current study.
Additional research has examined online role-playing
McDiarmid’s categorization does not follow an
motivations, especially for Massively Multiplayer
academic discipline, neither psychology, as the
Online Role-Playing Games (MMORPGs) (Yee).
study of the individual, nor sociology, as the study
of
groups. Moreover, the design oriented article is
In order to find player motivations for live action
not
interested in evaluating the categories and does
role-playing, researchers often consult one of the
not provide a hierarchy. To complement this gap, I
original models, the GNS Theory, which was later
took the sixteen categories and started an online
integrated in the Big Model, developed largely by
discussion combined with an open survey. The
John Kim and Ron Edwards in the Forge community
101
resulting research does not aim to close the gap
or give general answers. My intention is to show
the potential of the question of motivation, explain
how larpers reflect their motivations in a sample
community, and inspire further research into this
interesting and worthy topic.
4. Methods
with the categories or add new ones if they
disagreed with the suggestions.
c Participants were able to choose multiple
categories, as the survey was not intended to
result in one single motivation for every larper,
but to find clusters of motivations.
d The survey was open from July 20, 2011 through
August 20, 2011.
On July 20, 2011, I posted an open thread with the
title “Survey: Your motivation for larping” on larper.
As my intention was to engage as many people
ning.com. At the time of the research, larper.ning was
as possible, the survey served also as a structure
the largest larp social media community in Germany
to start and focus a discussion. This process was
with 12,969 members as of August 31, 2011. The survey facilitated by providing the list of sixteen suggestions
asked members in a short introductory text about their for motivation and encouraging people to discuss the
motivations to participate in larp and encouraged them categories in the introductory post.
to add new categories. Members could choose to give
Thus, the methodology follows the principles
their answers in the larper.ning forum as a post or to
of ethnography by observing and engaging in the
follow a link leading to an online inquiry hosted on
community of my study. Using the method of online
Facebook.com. This process tapped into two online
participant observation (Hine, 63-65), I observed how
communities, as not every larper is a member of
German larpers related to the categories suggested
larper.ning. Using the popular social networking site
by McDiarmid, how they evaluated them, and what
Facebook allowed me to find more participants and to
modifications emerged from their discussion. During
lower barriers to entry for participation, as the poll on
these observations, I made clear my position as
Facebook required a click, while the answers in larper. researcher to the group both in my online profile and
ning required writing a post in the forum.
in my conversations with community members. I have
participated in the larper.ning community since 2008
The aim of the survey and discussion was to find
and
have remained visible to the broader audience
out what motivations were important for larpers
through my activities as an in-game photographer
and what hierarchy could evolve from the sixteen
since 2007 and researcher since 2010. The
categories. Furthermore, I wanted to test the
categories by McDiarmid and provide greater insight participants of this survey were informed about my
intentions to summarize the results and make them
into the motivations of larpers. In order to answer
visible. Participants did not need to provide consent
these questions, I took the following steps:
as no private data was necessary for this study. Thus,
no names or nicknames are exposed in this paper.
a Rob McDiarmid’s sixteen motivations were
Also,
online discussions were treated anonymously.
turned into a list and posted with an introductory
The
study
follows our university’s “Code of Conduct
text on larper.ning.com. The list was converted
Scientific
Research”
(“Code”).
into a poll on Facebook containing all categories:
Spectacle, Exhibition, Flow, Embodiment,
Fellowship, Exercise, Exploration, Protagonist,
5. Results
Leadership, Audience, Catharsis, Versatility,
Comprehension, Competition, Crafting, and
The first surprise after announcing the survey was
Education. I kept the English terms and included
the response rate. More than 250 larpers took part in
a short German explanation for each category,
the survey and/or discussion. Categories added by
which was translated for this article. I based these
participants are marked below in bold letters. The
explanations on the extensive passages from
result
was 31 categories in total. Around 70 users
McDiarmid’s article, which I summarized into
further
participated by commenting on the given
short sentences.
categories. See the results from the Facebook survey
and the larper.ning thread answers in Table 1.
b The poll was open, enabling participants
Looking at the top categories, readers might be
to add further categories. In the larper.ning
surprised to find “Fellowship” in first place. The fact
thread, it was possible to post one’s answer. The
that the survey was posted on social network sites
Facebook poll used the standard poll software,
might influence this response, as people active on
allowing comments and further categories. Thus,
such sites might be more likely to choose a social
participants had the possibility to self-identify
Table 1:
Motivations of German players for larping
Category
Fellowship
Embodiment
Flow
Catharsis
Crafting
Spectacle
Audience
Exercise
Exploration
Exhibition
Posing
Comprehension
Education
Support
Humor
Transgression
Protagonist
Improve yourself
Create
Leadership
Competition
Frustration
Immerse
No hero
Versatility
Antagonist
Destruction
Robin of Sherwood
Cause and Effect
Abscondence
Blaspheme
Description
Spend the time with your friends and meet new people
Play your character: think and play from your character
Immerse, dive into the atmosphere / “ambiance”
Experience emotions through your character
Create real things like costumes or props
Experience the spectacle (costumes, props, locations,
non-player characters)
Experience a great story
Enjoy the physical exercise of fighting, walking around the
location, making camp in nature
Experience a fictional setting and explore the game world
Show your costumes, props, abilities (fighting, roleplaying, playing an instrument)
Be a show off, so that “losing” a fight is great
Solve problems and riddles
Learn something new through Larp (history, abilities) or
by role-playing it
Support other characters, improve ambiance
Don’t take yourself serious and play funny characters and
make hilarious scenes
Explore and transgress your limits (abilities)
Be important for the plot and have influence on the game
world
Learn about yourself and work on your strengths and
weaknesses
Create and tell a story and evolve a believable setting
Be important for the larp event or the community
Compete with others and win fights, plot solving and roleplaying
Be frustrated by bad players and bad costumes ;)
Explore and experience the world of a different (even a
fictitious) person
Play the role of a simple peasant or a ‘negative’ role like a
beggar and have fun
Collect important things (spells, lore, benefits)
Be the evil overlord
Destroy your enemies with burning dumplings
After Pen’n’paper, tabletop war games and card (Magic:
The Gathering), larp is the logical consequence
Flee everyday life
Gossip about nerds and noobs
102
Number of votes
251
215
203
141
141
139
115
109
92
92
79
67
66
44
44
38
32
21
18
17
17
11
10
5
4
3
3
3
2
1
1
103
category. However, simply denying the status of
chosen by 44 people and shows the importance of
fellowship in larp is problematic too, as larp is not a
humor for some larpers. Humor can act also as a
solitary activity. The ranking of “Fellowship” in this
means to cope with fellow players, as the category
study shows the importance of out-of-game elements “Frustration” might imply. For example, humor helps
in an activity commonly attributed to immersion in a
with fellow players who do not follow one’s motivation
fictional world. This result also indicates that out-offor “Crafting.”
game motivations are not easily disconnected from
Looking at the categories chosen over one
in-game practices, which has an impact on game
hundred times, we get a more precise understanding
play. Despite embodying a different character, the
of German larpers’ main motivations. “Fellowship”
character enactment of many players is influenced by (251) and “Spectacle” (139) are motivations which
out-of-game relations to other players. Game design
include experiences with other people, either
for common Fantasy Adventure larps rarely tries to
as active participants or passive observers.
capitalize on these relations by enforcing, bending,
“Embodiment” (215), “Flow” (203) and “Catharsis”
or breaking them.
(141) are psychological categories that define the
core of role-playing as a form of an immersive game.
Another result is that McDiarmid’s categories
Finally, “Crafting” (141) reflects the Do-It-Yourself
are found on the first ten ranks, thus proving the
culture prevalent in larp communities.
relevance of most of his categories for German
larp in context of this study. The limit of the study is
From evaluation of the top categories, I conclude
expressed in its method to test McDiarmid’s sixteen
that larp is a practice that includes game like and
categories by suggesting them. This method put
non-game like elements at the same time. The
emphasis on the categories as they inclined the
typical—but not exclusive—role-playing game
voters to choose from given categories rather than
elements (“Embodiment,” “Flow,” “Spectacle”)
putting effort into thinking of other categories and
connect the participants with one another in-game.
suggesting them. Alternately, the sixteen categories
Elements like Crafting connect the participants
may have been enough to cover the motivations for
out-of-game with each other and with the larp as a
larp and no further ones were needed.
whole. Examples include “how to make your costume”
instructions, common on larper.ning as member
However, only few votes were given to typical
blog
entries. They illustrate meta-game activities that
game elements like “Competition” (17), “Versatility”
reach beyond the actual larp.
(4) or “Protagonist” (32) and “Leadership” (15).
Additional categories, such as “Posing” (79), seem
In addition, the motivations presented here are
like a repetition of “Exhibition” (92), stressing the
not reserved for larp. We find “Fellowship” with
importance of “losing a fight” for the sake of the show every social activity, be it soccer or another form of
or spectacle. Moreover, the category “Support” was
game. Larp is not only about visual elements like
added and chosen 44 times, stressing the motivation
costumes and props, qualities that larp shares with
of supporting other players and the game. Therefore, cosplay. Some larps do not put emphasis on costumes,
the one-sided image of larp as a competitive type
especially alternative reality settings or jeepform
of role-playing needs revision, especially when one
games. Larp is not only focused upon fighting with
compares these results with common stereotypes, as
safety weapons, qualities that larp also shares with
shown in popular movies.
martial arts and sports. Many larps, such as the
tavern larp type or the 1920s Cthulhu genre, feature
The fact that participants could add motivation
minimal combat or no combat at all. Finally, larp is
types to the survey had the negative outcome of
not simply a form of entertainment, a quality larp
repetitive categories, such as “Immerse,” which has
shares with other entertaining activities with rolethe same meaning as “Embodiment,” or “Posing”
play elements. Examples of larp-like entertainment
and “Exhibition.” Similar to “Embodiment” is the
activities include carnival-going or fan behavior
category “Immerse” (10). Aside from discarding
at a soccer game, such as wearing fan clothing or
“Immerse” as part of the “Embodiment” category,
changing one’s behavior towards other adults.
the different descriptions might have led voters to
identify with “explore and experience the world of
Flexibility is typical for larp, because the form
a different (even a fictitious) person.” In comparison
can include all of these elements. Players have
to “play your character: think and play from your
the possibility of finding different satisfactions
character,” as for “Embodiment,” the ten voters might in one sophisticated form of play that aims at the
show a motivation more in the exploratory practice
embodiment of a character and immersion into a
than in the acting-out, as embodiment suggests.
fictional setting. In order to satisfy people’s differing
needs and motivations, larp as a type of role-playing
The categories with a response rate of less than
must remain open to alternative designs. Innovation
10, including “Robin of Sherwood” or “Blaspheme,”
allows the integration of new forms of satisfying
can be viewed as joking. The category “Humor” was
104
actions, which then motivate different people to join.
Organizers can demonstrate this flexibility when they
become aware of what motivations are addressable
within the design of their event. Thus, organizers
can to think about more innovative game designs,
which are appealing to many groups of player types
beyond gamists, narrativists, simulationists, and
immersionists.
6. Conclusion
insights in short text form.
Finally, I suggest abandoning the idea of larp as
a form of tabletop role-playing, instead connecting
larp insights and experiences with new possibilities
of spatial activities. Some of the motivations to engage
in larp are independent of fantasy, competition, or
other traditional elements that have limited the scope
of variety. With the rise of mobile computing and
augmented reality technology, more possibilities
for different ways of larping arise. Larp is a flexible
system that can be combined with new possibilities
beyond popular genres or the desire to immerse in
fantastic settings. Without such innovations, larp will
remain in its infancy.
The purpose of the current study is to determine
what motivates people to larp from within the
community. The results show that most German
survey participants engaging in both the hobby and
social media sites have chosen social categories
and those associated with role-playing instead of
competitive motivations, as earlier models have
highlighted (GNS Model). In essence, this study has
found that respondents most commonly seek the
Works Cited
experience of embodiment of a character while
being together with their fellows in a fictional world.
“Code of Conduct Scientific Research.” Maastricht
The results of this research support the idea that
University. 25 May 2012. Web. 3 Dec. 2012. http://
larp can be transported to other fields. Larp is not
www.maastrichtuniversity.nl/web/Main/Research/
necessarily bound to the traditions of other roleplaying games. Medieval fantasy settings might
ResearchTraining/CodeOfConduct.htm.
dominate the hobby, but experiencing the fantastic
is not necessary the prime reason to engage in the
Edwards, Ron. “GNS and Other Matters of Roleplaying
activity. Larp should be considered as a tool for
Theory.” The Forge. 14 Oct. 2001. Web. 3 Dec. 2012.
communities to engage with alternative realities
http://www.indie-rpgs.com/articles/1/.
together. Current examples, such as the jeepform
type, concentrate on contemporary topics and new
Gygax, Gary, and Dave Arneson. Dungeons & Dragons: Rules
techniques in order to engage with alternative
for Fantastic Medieval Wargames, Playable with Paper
situations in secure surroundings. However, jeepform
and Pencil and Miniature Figures. Lake Geneva, WI:
is also limited, despite its presence in academic
Tactical Studies Rules, 1974. Print.
and semi-academic research. First, few people are
willing try alternative larps; no known jeepform
Hine, Christine. Virtual Ethnography. Thousand Oaks, CA:
group exists in Germany yet. Second, the game
Sage Publications, 2000. Print.
design of German larp is limited and rarely expands
to include other forms. The most common systems
Kim, John H. “RPG Theory.” Darkshire.net. 27 Aug. 2012.
are DragonSys, an adaptation of pen’n’paper roleWeb. 3 Dec. 2012.
playing, and the rule-free DKWDDK, the German
http://www.darkshire.net/jhkim/rpg/theory/.
abbreviation for “your character can do what you
are able to do.” A quick consultation of the current
“LARPers: Welcome to LARPers, the Largest Social Network
German larp calendar maintained by Thilo Wagner
for Live Action Role-Players.” Larper.ning.com. 2012.
shows few alternatives styles of larp (Wagner).
Web. 3 Dec. 2012. http://larper.ning.com/.
Further research into other countries would
Mazes and Monsters. Dir. Steven Hilliard Stern. Perf. Tom
allow researchers to collect more data and compare
Hanks, Wendy Crewson, David Wallace. McDermott
larp motivations internationally. I suggest testing
Productions, 1982.
McDiarmid’s categories in the U.S., the Nordic
countries, and Eastern Europe, which are currently
the biggest regions for larp. For a quick overview of
motivations on the international level, I recommend
Lizzie Stark’s blog entry “Why They Larp” (Stark).
Here, several prominent larpers provide their
105
McDiarmid, Rob. “Analyzing Player Motives to Inform larp
Design.” Branches of Play: The 2011 WyrdCon Academic
Companion. Ed. Amber Eagar. 9 Jun. 2011. PDF file.
3 Dec. 2012. 3–25. http://wyrdcon.com/2011/wpcontent/uploads/2011/06/100-copies-AcademicBook.
pdf.
Montola, Markus. “Historical Context.” On the Edge of the
Magic Circle: Understanding Role-playing and Pervasive
Games. Diss. University of Tampere, 2012. 102-112.
PDF file. 3. Dec. 2012.
http://acta.uta.fi/pdf/978-951-44-8864-1.pdf.
Rafael Bienia is a Ph.D. candidate in the
Department of Literature and Arts at Maastricht
University in the Netherlands. In his dissertation, Bienia
examines three types of role-playing games with
regard to actor-network theory: pen’n’paper, MMORPG,
and larp. Bienia also teaches for the University’s
Bachelor’s and Master’s programs.
Email contact: rafael.bienia@maastrichtuniversity.nl
Pohjola, Mike. “The Manifesto of the Turku School.” As Larp
Grows Up: Theory and Methods in Larp. Ed. Morten
Gade, Line Thorup, and Mikkel Sander. 32-41. 2003.
PDF file. http://www.liveforum.dk/kp03_book/
classics/turku.pdf.
Role Models. Dir. David Wain. Perf. Paul Rudd, Seann
William Scott, Elizabeth Banks. Universal, 2008. DVD.
Stark, Lizzie. “Why They Larp.” LizzieStark.com. 26
Mar. 2012. Web. 3 Dec. 2012. http://lizziestark.
com/2012/03/26/why-they-larp/.
Stevenson, Robert Louis. [1886]. The Strange Case of Dr.
Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. London, UK: Collins Clear-Type
Press. PDF. http://ia600508.us.archive.org/11/items/
drjekyllmrhyde00stevuoft/drjekyllmrhyde00stevuoft.
pdf.
Wagner, Thilo. “Welcome to the German larp Calendar.”
Larpkalender. 3. Dec. 2012. Web. 3 Dec. 2012.
www.larpkalender.de.
Yee, Nick. “Motivations of Play in MMORPGs: Results from
a Factor Analysis Approach.” Nickyee.com. 2005.
PDF. 2 Dec. 2012. http://www.nickyee.com/daedalus/
archives/pdf/3-2.pdf.
106
A Social Psychology Study of Immersion
Among Live Action Role-players
Nathan Hook
Abstract
Though a term often used by members of the larp
subculture, immersion remains an under-researched
concept. This paper examines experiences of
immersion and how participants use the term
within the larp subculture. 42 live action roleplaying participants from 9 different countries were
interviewed by email questionnaire. Thematic
analysis and template analysis were used to draw
out key themes from the replies. Grounded theory
methodology was also applied, as immersion was not
the intended research topic. The results suggest that
participants use the term immersion to refer to both
outer, physical experiences and inner, psychological
experiences. The study reveals a wide spectrum
regarding frequency and depth of immersion
amongst live action role-players, with a few speaking
of experiences similar to a sort of “possession” by
their character, even when not playing.
Keywords
Immersion, social psychology, role-playing studies,
ethnography, qualitative, larp, creative agenda
1. Introduction
Immersion is a term often used by both
mainstream and fringe role-players, yet is applied to
many different contexts without consistent meaning.
In their introduction to the Immersive Gameplay
anthology, Evan Torner and William J. White discuss
at length how immersion is a contested concept
(Torner and White 3-11). The authors cite Matthijs
Holter, who provides several different meanings for
the term (Holter 20).
In some circles, immersion refers to acting and
thinking like one’s role-playing character. As Juhana
Pettersson reports in the introduction to States of Play:
Nordic Larp Around the World, “The Manifesto of the
Turku School [1999], by Mike Pohjola... argued that
immersion in the character was the purpose of roleplaying, a view widely ridiculed at the time. Later,
this idea has become almost conservative in Finnish
larp discussion” (Pettersson 7).
Drawing on the work of Lewis Pulsipher, Gary
Alan Fine suggests two player types: those that “want
to play the games as a game” and those seeking
“direct escapism through the abandonment of oneself
to the flow of play,” the latter of which Fine terms the
“true role-player” (207). Fine recognizes that RPGs do
not have winning as a defined goal and argues that
“engrossment” in the game world is the dominant
reason for playing (4). This concept compares well
to Pohjola’s “immersion,” but is distinct in that Fine
primarily refers to immersion/engrossment in setting,
rather than in one’s character. Engrossment into
the setting also equates well to the “Simulationism”
creative agenda in the GNS model originated by The
Forge and described by Emily Care Boss (Boss 238).
In 2003, Petter Bøckman adapted the GNS model to
larp, replacing Simulationism with Immersionism,
which he defined as playing to immerse in both role
and situation (Bøckman 12-16).
MMORPG scholar Nick Yee used factor analytic
methodology to analyze online role-players (Yee
1-13). Of the three agendas he identifies, Yee terms
one “immersion,” which confusingly includes:
“Discovery,” which is similar to GNS’ Simulationism;
“Role-playing,” which similar to GNS’s
Narrativism, but also to Bøckman’s Immersionism;
“Customisation,” which refers to controlling the
visuals; and “escapism,” which refers to relaxation
from the real world, similar to Michelle Nephew’s
explanation for player motivation. Essentially, Yee
uses “immersion” as a miscellaneous agenda to
include everything outside of his model, failing
to reference or analyze any of the tabletop or larp
models. This example shows how confusingly
people have applied the term, even academics.
In contrast, Katie Salen and Eric Zimmerman’s do
not address engrossment or immersion as goals in
their 2004 book Rules of Play, as their view is slanted
by a general game studies paradigm. The authors
do discuss what they term “the immersive fallacy”:
the aspiration to make games feel completely
“real” in the sense of the physical experience,
indistinguishable from the outside world (Salen and
Zimmerman 450-455). Salen and Zimmerman argue
that that engagement comes “through play itself” and
that the player needs to remain aware of the artificial
nature of play.
Paradoxically, many larps have aspired to
achieve this end and some claim to have done
so. Nordic larp—an international tradition of larp
associated with the Knutepunkt conference—uses
107
the term “the 360 degree illusion” to describe this
design agenda. For examples of such games, see
Markus Montola’s and Jaakko Stenros’ Nordic Larp
anthology.
This article will now discuss the methods of data
collection and analysis.
ethnographic work on the subject, I focused on
psychology rather than emphasizing the sociology
of the role-playing subculture, reflecting my own
academic background. In contrast to Montola’s
(2010) natural experiment approach of interviewing
participants about one particular play experience,
I treated my participants as experts regarding the
breath of their past experiences across larp play.
2. Methodology
Relative to the more limited participant samples
and demographics of Bowman and Nephew, I
recruited as disparate and varied participants as
This paper arises from qualitative, exploratory
possible. This sample is not intended to represent
research into the player-character relationship, as
the community demographics, but is an attempt to
discussed by Sarah Lynne Bowman (163-178). The
maximize the potential for different, contrasting
initial research also explored the nature of bleed,
voices. This method also fulfils the ethnographic
as first examined academically by Montola in “The
function of giving a voice to those normally unheard
Positive Negative Experience in Extreme Role– mainstream live action role-players—rather than
playing” (Montola 2). During analysis, the term
immersion emerged unexpectedly in the data without the fringe groups that other research has explored,
such as Montola’s examinations of the Nordic larp
prompting and became a key theme in its own right.
community.
This paper covers this theme rather than the others
that arose in the data analysis. My work on the other
I choose a primarily interview-based approach,
themes is available in the thesis Identities at Play.
consistent with the previous studies by Daniel
MacKay, Bowman, and Montola. I intended to try
This research follows the principles of
to recognize experienced practitioners within the
ethnography, a complex term the meaning of which
subculture as “experts,” even if their responses lack
varies by subject and tradition. Within a British social
psychology context, ethnographic research is defined a theoretical underpinning and firm terminology.
I considered an observation approach, such as
not as a data collection method, but as “a set of tools”
directly observing play experiences, but decided
(Taylor and Smith 6). This position is consistent with
against it; observation is unlikely to yield insights
the work several other prominent ethnographers,
into participants’ thoughts and experiences, instead
including Norman Denzin; Paul Willis and Mats
producing a singular account of a unique event
Trondman; and Isabella Baszanger and Nicholas
Dodier. Ethnography can be summarized as the study featuring multiple people. Such data might appear
contrived and artificial like Philip Zimbardo’s
of systems of meaning within a cultural group.
Stanford Prison Experiment; rather than drawing
I chose a qualitative approach since the
upon a range of participant experiences, the results
psychological motivations and feelings that I was
of such research often reflect the way the event is
exploring are beyond quantification; in short, I
observed and designed, rather than revealing any
examined the quality of motivations, rather than
inherent or wider truth.
trying to place a quantified, numerical value
to them. This approach is appropriate, as I was
investigating larp as lived human experience, a
point made explicit by Stenros in the article “Nordic
2.2 Email interviews
Larp: Theatre, Art, and Game” (300). This method
includes self-reflexivity and references to personal
I conducted the interviews by email, which
experiences as primary sources, but does not
allowed me to obtain replies from geographically
offer detailed accounts of past personal play. In
scattered participants. The replies were rich with
epistemological terms, I recognize and respect the
detailed, reflective answers. From a practical
participants’ subjective meaning contained within
viewpoint, this method also made a large data set
their statements. This approach is particularly
more manageable by removing transcription. Judith
relevant since role-playing and game-playing itself
McCoyd and Toba Kerson argue the merits of email
involves constructing subjective meaning.
interviews over telephone and face-to-face methods,
stressing that email allows for the inclusion of
isolated, dispersed, and/or stigmatised groups and
the collection of rich data (McCoyd and Kerson 390).
2.1 Comparisons to methods used in previous
research
The original intention was to conduct a small
number of follow up, semi-structured, webcam
interviews to explore emerging points in more depth.
In contrast to Fine’s starting point as the seminal
108
This proved unnecessary given the detailed and
personally revealing replies to the email interviews.
Speaking reflexively, my own experience as an
interview subject with role-play researchers using
webcams during this time caused me to understand
firsthand live interview limitations. I felt more
confident getting meaningful, considered information
from email questions, where the participant could
reflect and present their experiences, rather than a
real-time situation with the participant put on the spot.
The email interview used closed, warm-up
questions about the participant’s background, then
open questions regarding the following general
topics: what characters they have played; how they or
someone else designed /developed the characters;
what their motives and reasons were; what it felt like
while playing their character before, during, and
after; and if they think their play has changed them as
a person. The complete list of questions is featured in
the Appendix to this paper.
After a pilot run, I added an extra section making
hypothetical statements and asking the reader to
respond with their opinions. Many of these statements
derived from real opinions expressed on Internet
forums over the years that provoked fierce debate,
such as in-play references to real life religions. The
term immersion was not used in the questions. One of
the statements in the last section did use the phrase
“immersed,” but most references to immersion
made by participants arose from answers to earlier
questions.
2.3 Participant recruitment
For clarity, “participant” will be used in the
academic sense to refer to “research participant”
and “player” to mean someone who engages in roleplaying. “Player” has a dual meaning, as it refers
to both a game player and/or an actor. I focused
exclusively on live action role-players as participants,
though some participants also engage in computer
and/or tabletop role-playing.
Interview participants were recruited through
online contact with larp communities using message
boards, blogs and social networking sites. Some
participants informed me that they forwarded the
participant call onto their local mailing boards,
adding snowball sampling. 42 email interviews were
returned completed. I considered whether or not to
include participants connected to the academic study
of game-playing or role-playing, deciding to include
these individuals as a valid part of the subculture.
Game scholars accounted for small part of the
participant pool, with only one recognized game
studies academic.
Practical limitations included the need for
participants to confidently use the English language.
No children were included due to increased consent
issues and language barriers. Another limitation was
the use of online channels, which excluded those who
do not use such forums, but I do not feel this issue is
significant, as the use of such channels is embraced
by the larp community. While always a potential
factor, I downplayed the influence on the data of my
own presence in the community by using a diverse,
international participant pool. I had played with four
Table 1:
Demographic information of participants
Location
Australia
Belarus
Germany
Netherlands
Norway
Sweden
Switzerland
United Kingdom
United States
Total
Code
AU
BL
GM
NL
NW
SW
SZ
UK
US
Number of participants
Male
Female
0
1
1
0
3
4
2
1
1
0
0
1
1
0
12
4
6
5
26
16
109
of the participants at the same event at some point
over the years, but none were people with whom I
played on a regular basis.
Participant ages ranged from 19 to 69 with a mean
of 31.9 years. Unlike past research such as Bowman’s
and Nephew’s, which largely focused on the 18-30
age range, 19 of my 42 participants were over 30. 26
of 42 participants had university level qualifications
and 3 were current students. To maintain anonymity,
I replaced participant names with tags consisting of
a code for their location and an arbitrary reference
number (see Table 1). Most participants identified
with the nationality of their current location. Some
American participants gave their ethnicity in answer
to nationality.
2.4 Method of analysis
Psychological Society (BPS), I followed the BPS
ethical code (“Code”), supplemented by the BPS
guidelines for online research (“Report”). In the
public invitation, participants were informed that
the research intends to examine their community
and activity. The introduction text explained the
focus on identity and emotions around play. Since
participants fully read the interview questions when
replying, they were given a high level of information
on which to base consent, another merit of email
questionnaires as an interview style. The introduction
made clear that all participants had the right to
withdraw, including after submitting replies. None
explicitly withdrew consent, though a small number
did not return replies. All research data was held
securely on a password protected PC, with a securely
kept pen drive used for backup.
I considered the wider ethical implications that
the research might have for the role-play community.
Historically, negative media against role-playing
has colored public perceptions (Cardwell 157). In
contrast, research into role-playing has featured the
positive aspects (Stackpole). On this basis, further
research may help answer media attacks and is
unlikely to damage members of the community. If
dangers are inherent to role-playing, researchers
have an ethical responsibility to understand those
dangers for risk management purposes, enabling
adults to make an informed choice to participate, as
with dangerous sports. This need outweighs the
ethical considerations with regard to damaging the
subculture’s reputation.
During the second stage of data analysis, I worked
through the material, pulling out quality statements
from the shorter replies, such as answers to warm-up
questions. My third stage translated the data set into a
thematic structure, organizing statements according
to different broad themes. I initially focused on
themes of identity construction and magic circle/
bleed; the second category describes the separation
between everyday life and play and examines the
phenomenon of emotions “bleeding” in- and outof-play, as described by Montola. However, as work
progressed, the third major theme of immersion
emerged. I applied a template analysis approach as
described by King, a subtype of thematic analysis
(“Template”). Further taking into account existing
models, my overall analysis falls between the data2.6 Research Relativity
driven and theory-driven dichotomy described by
Braun and Clarke (18).
I have participated in a wide variety of larps for
This paper then follows the Grounded Theorizing
over fifteen years, organizing games and writing
non-academic articles about them. My tastes and
approach to data analysis described by Glaser and
“creative agenda” have grown and developed
Strauss as cited in Hammersley and Atkinson (158),
during that time as I have grown as a person. As
which is heavily data-driven. Grounded theorizing
a psychologist, I have become more interested in
rejects carrying out a prior literature review to
exploring the internal, mental life of characters.
ensure that codifying and theorizing is grounded in
While working on this research, I wrote a selfthe data, rather than prior models.
reflective article about my developmental journey in
Direct participant quotes are indicated by
larp
and psychology in Playground magazine (Hook,
quotation marks. Ellipses are used where text has
“Culture” 45-47).
been cut out and [ ] to indicate words added for
clarity. Minor spelling and grammar errors were
Although I have a great deal of personal play
edited to avoid confusion. When quoting participants, experience upon which to draw, I did not use such
I avoided mentioning fictional character names to
material extensively in this work, unlike other
protect participant identity.
researchers such as Bowman. While I recognize that
true objectivity is impossible and even undesirable,
I attempted to explore a range of disparate personal
experiences
from different participants. Discussions
2.5 Ethics
on online forums and my play experiences are
included as sources when thinking reflexively,
As a graduate member of the British
110
but were not the focus. I also recognize the ironic
symmetry of this project; ethnography textbooks use
the term immersion when describing data collection
and analysis. A classical ethnographer spends time
immersing within a culture to study it. Even outside of
role-playing, the process of immersion is at the heart
of ethnography.
3. Findings
Immersion is a term used by many participants in
various ways, yet remains poorly defined. Examining
participants’ own words is characteristic of the
ethnographic approach, and, in that tradition, I have
provided one definition from one of my participants:
Total immersion happens when you do not have
to think about what your character would say at a
specific moment, but when the character reacts
before you had time to think about it... at such
moments when the character is afraid to die, you
get a much more intense feeling of fear for the
character’s life than you would in a book or movie.
It is the perfect “suspension of disbelief.” (GM2)
Here, the participant describes how immersion is
a spontaneous emotional action/reaction, rather than
an intellectual choice. Under this meaning, we might
question how the participant would define immersion
into an intellectual/rational character.
3.1 Immersion as a goal
Some participants view immersion as a goal to
achieve. For example, one participant stated, “the
whole point of role-playing (larp and tabletop) is to
immerse yourself in your character and in another
world/time... the ability to ‘feel’ the things my
characters feel[s]” (UK3). In reply to the statement
“live role-play is about becoming or immersing in
your character,” another participant affirmed, “Yes.
I’d give a longer answer, but I feel like that’s exactly
what it is! ” (US10). These examples show how
some players deliberately try to achieve a state of
immersion.
This notion contrasts with the research of previous
scholars such Zimbardo, Maslach, and Haney, who
warn that immersion is a risk rather than a goal (5).
Citing Robert Jay Lifton, the authors emphasize the
following notion:
Good people can be induced, seduced, initiated
into behaving in evil (irrational, stupid, selfdestructive, antisocial) ways by immersion
in “total situations” that can transform human
nature in ways that challenge our sense of the
stability and consistency of individual personality,
character, and morality (10).
One participant aspires to the goal of total
immersion, but rarely attains it, also expressing
“safety concerns”:
My ideal, which I achieve occasionally, is to
“become” the character fully—I’m just a little
background process watching out for OOC [outof-character] safety concerns and interpreting
OOC elements of the scene for [the characters],
they are in the driver’s seat; I feel their emotions,
have their trains of thought and subconscious
impulses, and they have direct control of what I
am doing, subject only to veto. (UK9)
Similarly, another participant believes in limits
on immersion as a goal, stating, “If you’re fully
immersed, but end up ignoring other players,
organizers, etc. and end up spoiling their game, I
think you’re doing it wrong” (SZ1). This assertion
directly opposes Pohjola’s insistence at the start of
his manifesto that “role-playing is immersion [ ] to an
outside consciousness (a ‘character’) and interacting
with its surroundings” (Pohjola 34).
Another participant advocates combining
competitive play with character immersion, saying
that “people want to win and this is a great way for
people that do not have a competitive outlet to...
compete... in an actual physical test of ability and
speed” and “if you really get into your character,
you own the character’s emotions. You need to start
thinking like the character, and when you feel the
way they would, you have mastered that character”
(US6). Note that the participant describes “thinking
like the character” rather than “as the character,”
which connects to the next theme of first-person vs.
third-person.
3.2 First-Person vs. Third-Person
Some participants claim to become their
character by immersing in the first person. One
participant states, “I function in the first person, and
I definitely feel I become the character. That is one
of the most appealing things about the hobby” (UK4).
Another says, “I am fully becoming this character;
mostly, I think about it in a first person view. Only
in some unknown and very critical paths I have to
imagine what the characters decision would be;
mostly I can imagine it right away” (GM4). A third
participant takes this notion further, adding that
111
Similarly, one participant favors larp to other media,
“even after games, talking as my character, I would
stating, “I prefer Live role-play because it is a more
say ‘I want to...’ I found it very jarring when I first met
sensory experience” (AU1). These participants
people who say, ‘he wants to...’ ” (UK3).
identify
physical immersion as a particularly strong
In contrast, some participants make character
point
of
larp.
decisions in the third person. For instance, one
participant tells us, “Sometimes there are
This concept of outer immersion in the physical
circumstances where I think, ‘I know [my character]
realness of the environment compares well to Fine’s
would do this or that now.’ I would do the complete
“engrossment” in the setting, though it differs by
opposite, but that’s what I’m supposed to be right
referring to a physically real rather than imagined
now. Her not me” (GM3). This comment shows that
experience. In the above quotes, some players seem
the player “stays true” to their character’s actions
to view having to imagine the setting as the opposite
externally, but still maintains an internal third person of immersion. Whether imagined or not, having a
train of thought about their character.
fixed, consistent setting is part of the creative agenda
of
Simulationism under the GNS model.
Another participant speaks of the contrast
between first- and third-person as dependent on the
Interestingly, the idea of immersion as referring
medium of role-playing, stating, “When I’m larping, I to the physical “realness” of the experience is
think in the third person, even if I am at a game that I
not included in Holter’s (2007) several different
am not running. When I’m RPing on AOL, I sometimes meanings for immersion. Since some participants
slip into first person thought” (US10). This point
openly aspire to the physical experience of
contrasts sharply with Montola’s participants, who
“realness,” they appear to follow what Salen and
stress the first-person nature of their play experience, Zimmerman criticized as the “immersive fallacy”
despite not always speaking in the first-person as
discussed above (450-455).
their character (“Positive,” 2-7). While I recognize
these differences in style, I avoid making any value
judgment on which is “better” or “more immersive.”
3.4 Immersion as strong emotion
We might liken this distinction to different methods
used by actors, though a comparison between drama
Some participants equate “immersion” with
schools is beyond the scope of the current discussion. experiencing strong emotions. One participant states,
“If I’m really immersed in a character, I can actually
start crying if they feel sad or completely change my
view
upon reality,” but adds that “these emotions are
3.3 Outer and inner immersion
gone at the moment I stop playing” (NL1). Another
participant talks about how strong emotions keep him
Many participants use the term immersion in
in-character: “One of the priestesses gave one heck
contradictory ways. I conclude that larpers use
of a pre-battle speech and the upwelling of energy
immersion to describe two overall categories of
after[ward] that... poured out of everyone really
experience: outer, physical immersion and inner,
psychological, character immersion. One participant ‘locked’ me in character that entire battle” (NL3).
uses the term to describe both categories, stating that Both of these participants are from the Netherlands,
so these comments may reflect a distinct meaning
immersion is “everything from their emotions to the
among a particular group. Nevertheless, these
mundane aspects, such as what it feels like to walk in
armour, how carrying a weapon changes your motion, examples do show a distinct usage of the term as
reflective of strong emotional states.
etc” (UK3).
Some participants state that outer experience
deepens the inner immersion. One participant says,
“The more WYSIWYG [What You See Is What You
3.5 Frequency of immersion
Get] the game is, the more involved with scenes
related to my character’s motivation, the easier it is to
Compare these two quotes with regard to the
become the character” (SZ1). Another adds that outer frequency of emotion. One participant says, “I don’t
immersion is “the key to immersion. Don’t tell me
really become the character. It’s more like ‘riding’ it.
what I smell or see. Show me” (US10).
I am rarely fully immersed (and sometimes I am fully
not-immersed), but I am sometimes, often for short
Comparing larp to other role-play media,
periods
(minutes)” (SZ1). In contrast, continuing the
another participant makes this point implicitly: “The
earlier quote, GM4 states, “Depending on the other
[immersion] level [of] a larp is much deeper due to
players, I also [try] to not switch back to myself; only
the physical interaction with both other participants
and the environment. I tend to test my own limitations, when I’m alone lying in my bed [do] I think about my
personal [life], but only [for] short moments.” These
in respect to physical and mental one[s]” (GM5).
112
examples demonstrate a massive spectrum in the
frequency of experiencing self-defined immersion.
Different players consider “becoming” their
characters in play on a scale ranging from only a few
minutes at most to constantly, with the exception of
brief moments.
Another participant says, “It’s always me playing
it, but it’s not I the character; it’s I the player,” which,
combined with his other replies, show an overall
lack of immersion (UK10). Thinking reflexively, I
have seen this distinction on occasion on web
forums before – experienced larpers who admit they
are always themselves, have never experienced
inner immersion, and experience confusion when
other people discuss it. Thus, a massive personal
difference in the frequency of experiencing selfdefined character immersion appears to exist.
3.6 Descriptions of immersion as a sort of
“possession”
Some participants describe exceptionally deep
immersion. For example, one participant discusses
a deep kind of immersion with one of his characters:
“I am him in a sense, but it is very hard to play him
without getting too far into the role... I have a way of
snapping out of it and a safety word I say to myself
in my head” (UK8). Another participant explains, “I
sometimes have the feeling that, when everything is
right, (atmosphere, emotions, the people around me)
that the character starts to play me” (GM2).
One participant describes what I term a sort of
“possession” by the character:
I struggle to say I “identify” with [my characters],
because much more than film characters, they
are obviously their own people, complete unto
themselves—I just let them borrow my body
occasionally!... [my character] turned out to be
particularly easy to “immerse” in—i.e. let her take
over almost entirely, with just a small background
safety thread. (UK9)
UK9 even describes this possession by her
characters occurring when not larping:
I usually try to keep the division of thoughts very
clear, so I generally think about my characters in
the third person, but they think about themselves
in the first person, using my brain to do it.
(Particularly strong characters can occasionally
try to take control of me when I’m not larping...
especially when I’m tired/being useless and they
have things they want to get done or strengths
that are appropriate to the situation... I try not to
let them get away with it too often though, and
find it quite disturbing when they try very hard to
succeed against my wishes!)”
Speaking reflexively and frankly, I have experienced
similar instances myself.
Under the ethnographic principles of this
research I accept the subjective truth of the meaning
of their experience as a sort of “possession”; doing so
does not assert the objective existence of possession.
Under this methodology, I avoid imposing an external
meaning on the participant’s internal experiences.
If I were to consider these instances from an
external perspective, I would note that this notion
compares well to the process of dissociation
described in this context by Bowman (138-143).
The “character” references here could be a label
assigned to an existing identity within the player.
The relationship between player and character
among participants is discussed further in my thesis,
Identities at Play.
Zimbardo describes the concept of
deindividuation: a loss of self to the group collective
(Lucifer 297). This mechanism of “possession” above
compares to deindividuation, as both describe a loss
of self, but differs in that the loss is not to a group,
but to an abstract concept. This relates back to Brian
Morton’s comparison of larp to ancient shamanism
(Morton 246) and J. Tuomas Harviainen’s comparison
of larp to post-modern magic (Harviainen 92). I
should note that few participants report experiencing
this loss of self.
We can consider the “possession” experiences
described above as an exceptionally deep form of
immersion. I recognize that this assumption may
not hold true and I do not preclude that something
different entirely may transpire in these moments.
Most participants do not speak of such experiences
and a predisposition to this depth of play may reflect
a personal cognitive difference.
4. Summary
Four key points emerged from this study. First,
some participants seek to achieve immersion during
play as a goal. Second, immersion as a term is used
to refer to both inner psychological experience and
to outer “realism.” The latter assists in achieving the
former and helps players experience strong emotion
during play. Third, the frequency of immersion
into character is a point of personal difference, one
that normally remains invisible. Players cannot
casually tell how immersed another player is; like
other thought processes, immersion remains hidden.
Finally, a few participants experience exceptionally
113
strong immersion into their characters, which we
might term a sort of “possession” that takes hold
sometimes even while not playing.
In the expanded version of this work, I focused
on the inner psychological meaning of the term
immersion with regard to the wider data analysis
(Hook, Identities). Immersion seems more likely
to occur when playing archetypal characters as
opposed to characters that are variants on the
player’s self. Examples of such archetypal play would
include shamanic practice, which Morton compares
to role-play (Morton 246). The stereotypical roles
of “guard” and “prisoner” in the Stanford Prison
Experiment provide a related example (Zimbardo,
Maslach, and Haney 5). By stereotypical, I mean
that a less well-defined, “shallow” role tends to lead
to deeper immersion than a fully detailed, three
dimensional character. This theory is consistent with
life activities where people play self-suppressing
roles—such as uniformed military servicepersons—
or where they engage in public ceremonies. The
role “transforms human nature,” altering the player’s
feelings and behaviour (Zimbardo, Maslach, and
Haney 10).
Finally, I will discuss the implications of these
findings. In future research on role-playing, scholars
should take care to understand participants’ intended
meaning when they say “immersion.” Immersion
could refer to inner immersion (psychological
immersion), outer immersion (physical realism/
engrossment), a feeling of strong emotion, a
combination of meanings at once or something else
entirely. When asking a question about “immersion,”
researchers could easily interpret participant
responses in an unintended sense. For some players,
the subjective experience of a sort of “possession”
outside of play occurs. This experience demonstrates
an example of a permanent, long-term change from
play. Using Montola’s term, this experience would
reflect a “bleed-out” effect, where emotional effects
pass from play into the everyday world (Montola 2). I
hope this paper provides the groundwork for further
ethnographic research into the phenomenon of
immersion.
Works Cited
Baszanger, Isabella and Nicholas Dodier. “Ethnography:
Relating the Part to the Whole.” Qualitative Research:
Theory, Method and Practice. 2nd Ed. Ed. David
Silverman. London: Sage, 2004. 9-34. Web. 8 Dec.
2012. http://gspm.ehess.fr/docannexe.php?id=522.
Bøckman, Petter. “The Three Way Model: Revision of the
Threefold Model.” When Larp Grows Up—Theory
and Methods in Larp. Ed. Morten Gade, Line
Thorup, Mikkel Sander. Frederiksberg, Denmark:
Projektgruppen KP03, 2003.12-16. Web. 8 Dec. 2012.
http://www.liveforum.dk/kp03_book/classics/three_
way_model.pdf.
Boss, Emily Care. “Key Concepts in Forge Theory.”
Playground Worlds: Creating and Evaluating
Experiences of Role-Playing Games. Ed. Markus
Montola and Jaakko Stenros. Helsinki, Finland:
Ropecon ry, 2008. 237-242. Web. 8 Dec. 2012.
http://2008.solmukohta.org/pub/Playground_
Worlds_2008.pdf.
Bowman, Sarah Lynne. The Functions of Role-Playing Games:
How Participants Create Community, Solve Problems and
Explore Identity. Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2010.
Braun, Virginia and Victoria Clarke. “Using Thematic
Analysis in Psychology.” Qualitative Research in
Psychology 3.2 (2006): 77-101. Web. 8 Dec. 2012. http://
eprints.uwe.ac.uk/11735/2/%3Cstrong%3Ethematic%
3C/strong%3E_analysis_revised_-_final.pdf.
Cardwell, Paul. “The Attacks on Role-Playing Games.”
Skeptical Inquirer 18.2 (1994): 157-165. Web. 8 Dec.
2012.
http://www.rpgstudies.net/cardwell/attacks.html.
Denzin, Norman K. Interpretive Ethnography: Ethnographic
Practices for the 21st Century. Thousand Oaks: Sage,
1997. Print.
Ethics Committee of the British Psychological Society.
“Code of Ethics and Conduct: Guidance Published
by the Ethics Committee of the British Psychological
Society.” The British Psychological Society. August 2009.
Web/PDF. 8 Dec. 2012. http://www.bps.org.uk/system/
files/documents/code_of_ethics_and_conduct.pdf.
114
Ethics Committee of the British Psychological Society.
“Report of the Working Party on Conducting Research
on the Internet: Guidelines for Ethical Practice
in Psychological Research Online.” The British
Psychological Society. June 2007. Web/PDF. 8 Dec. 2012.
http://www.bps.org.uk/sites/default/files/documents/
conducting_research_on_the_internet-guidelines_for_
ethical_practice_in_psychological_research_online.
pdf.
Fine, Gary Alan. Shared Fantasy: Role-Playing Games as
Social Worlds. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press,
1983. Print.
Harviainen, J. Tuomas. “The Larping That is Not Larp.” Think
Larp: Academic Writings from KP2011. Ed. Thomas
Duus Henriksen, et al. Copenhagen, Denmark:
Rollespilsakademiet, 2011. 172-193. Web/PDF. http://
rollespilsakademiet.dk/kpbooks/think_larp_web.pdf.
Holter, Matthijs. “Stop Saying Immersion.” Lifelike. Jesper
Donnis, Morten Gade and Line Thorup. Copenhagen:
Projektgruppen KP07, 2007. Web. 8. Dec. 2012. http://
www.liveforum.dk/kp07book/lifelike_holter.pdf
Hook, Nathan. “Culture Clash.” Playground: The New Wave
in Roleplaying 2 (2011): 45-47. Print.
Hook, Nathan. Identities at Play: An Ethnographic Study of the
Psychological Experience of Recreational Role-players
Creating and Being Recreated by Fictional Identities.
Bristol, UK: Lulu, 2012. Print. Also available as a free
download: http://www.lulu.com/shop/nathan-hook/
identities-at-play/ebook/product-20328256.html
King, Nigel. “What is Template Analysis?” Template Analysis.
University of Huddlesfield. 2011. Web. 8 Dec. 2012.
http://hhs.hud.ac.uk/w2/research/template_analysis/
whatis.htm.
Mackay, Daniel. The Fantasy Role-Playing Game: A New
Performing Art. Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2001. Print.
McCoyd, Judith and Toba Kerson. “Conducting Intensive
Interviews Using Email: A Serendipitous Comparative
Opportunity” Qualitative Social Work 5.3 (2006): 389406. Web. 8 Dec. 2012.
http://www.uk.sagepub.com/gray/Website%20
material/Journals/qsw_mccoyd.pdf.
Montola, Markus. “The Positive Negative Experience in
Extreme Role-Playing.” Proceedings of Nordic DiGRA
2010: Experiencing Games: Games, Play, and Player.
2010. Web. Sept. 2012.
http://www.digra.org/dl/db/10343.56524.pdf.
Morton, Brian. “Larps and Their Cousins Through the
Ages.” Lifelike. Ed. Jesper Donnis, Morten Gade & Line
Thorup. Copenhagen: Projektgruppen KP07. 2007.
Print. http://www.liveforum.dk/kp07book/lifelike_
morton.pdf.
Nephew, Michelle. “Playing with Identity: Unconscious
Desire and Role-playing Games.” Gaming as Culture:
Essays on Reality, Identity and Experience in Fantasy
Games. Ed. J. Patrick Williams, Sean Q. Hendricks, and
W. Keith Winkler. Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2006. 120139.
Pettersson, Juhana. “Introduction.” States of Play: Nordic
Larp Around the World. Ed. Juhana Pettersson.
Helsinki, Finland: Pohjoismaisen roolipelaamisen
seura, 2012. 7-9. http://www.nordicrpg.fi/wp-content/
uploads/2012/03/states_of_play_pdf_version.pdf.
Pohjola, Mike. “The Manifesto of the Turku School.” As Larp
Grows Up: Theory and Methods in Larp. Ed. Morten
Gade, Line Thorup, and Mikkel Sander. 32-41. 2003.
Web/PDF. 8 Dec. 3012. http://www.liveforum.dk/
kp03_book/classics/turku.pdf.
Salen, Katie and Eric Zimmerman. Rules of Play: Game
Design Fundamentals. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press,
2004. Print.
Stackpole, Michael. “The Pulling Report.” Adventurer’s
Guild: Dedicated to the Gamers of Pen & Paper RPGs.
1990. Web. 8 Dec. 2012.
http://limsk.tripod.com/pulling.htm.
Stenros, Jaakko. “Nordic Larp: Theatre, Art, and Game.”
Nordic Larp. Ed. Jaakko Stenros and Markus Montola.
Stockholm, Sweden: Fëa Livia, 2010. Print. 300-313.
Stenros, Jaakko and Markus Montola, eds. Nordic Larp.
Stockholm, Sweden: Fëa Livia, 2010. Print.
Taylor, Stephanie and Mark Smith. D844 Ethnography Study
Guide. Milton Keynes, UK: The Open University Press,
2008. Print.
Torner, Evan and William. J. White. “Introduction.”
Immersive Gameplay: Studies in Role-Playing and Media
Immersion. Ed. Evan Torner and William J. White,
Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2012. 3-11. Print.
White, William J., Emily Care Boss, and J. Tuomas
Harviainen. “Role-Playing Communities, Cultures
of Play, and the Discourse of Immersion.” Immersive
Gameplay: Studies in Role-Playing and Media Immersion.
Ed. Evan Torner and William J. White, Jefferson, NC:
McFarland, 2012. 71-86. Print.
115
Willis, Paul, and Mats Trondman. “Manifesto for
Ethnography.” Ethnography 1.1 (2000): 5-16. Web.
8 Dec. 2012. https://www.dur.ac.uk/resources/
anthropology/willis.pdf
Yee, Nick. “Motivations of Play in Online Games.” Journal of
CyberPsychology and Behavior 9 (2007): 772-775. 2007.
Web. 7 Dec. 2012. http://www.nickyee.com/pubs/
Yee%20-%20Motivations%20(2007).pdf.
Zimbardo, Philip. The Lucifer Effect. Understanding How
Good People Turn Evil. New York: Random House. 2007.
Print.
Zimbado, Philip, Christina Maslach, and Craig
Haney. “Chapter 11: Reflections on the Stanford
Prison Experiment: Genesis, Transformations,
Consequences.” Obedience to Authority: Current
Perspectives on the Milgram Paradigm. Ed. Thomas
Blass, Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates,
2000. Web. 8 Dec. 2012.
http://www.dfabricius.de/files/zimbardoPRISON.pdf.
Have you been involved in live role-play in other
ways than as a player? If so, how?
Have or do you play tabletop (‘pen and paper’)
role-play games? If so, how long for?
Do you like any particular tabletop role-play
games?
What other leisure activities, hobbies or interests
do you engage in?
What do you feel you get out of live role-play that
you don’t get from those other interests?
Section 3: Character
For this section, I’d like you to select a character
that you have played in a live role-play event, and
answer the following questions about it. This section
is repeated, so you can talk about two different
characters you have played. Choose a character that
has stuck in your mind and that you are comfortable
describing.
3a) First character
Appendix: Email Interview Questions
What is the character’s name? What is their
‘concept,’ vocation, status or title?
Section 1: Personal Background
Can you tell me a bit more about your character?
What are their motivations?
How old are you?
What gender do you identify yourself as?
What nationality or nationalities do you identify
yourself as?
Where you do currently live (city and country)?
Do you have a university-level education? If so, in
which subject(s)?
What is your current or most recent employment/
job role?
Who made/wrote the character? Was it you,
someone else, or a combination of sources? Was
there a particular source of inspiration for the
idea?
Assuming you choose to play this character, why
do you think you choose it? Do you think your
character is a reflection (or the opposite) of you in
some way?
What is the character’s personality? Does it differ
from yours? If so, how?
What personality traits does it have in common
with you?
Section 2: Interests
How long have you been live role-playing for?
Can you describe a particularly interesting scene,
story, plot or intrigue involving this character?
How did you find out about it and start playing live
role-play events?
What did you do to get ready to play the
character?
116
Do you feel as if you identify with this character?
Does that feel different to the way you might
identify with a main character when watching a
film?
3b) Second Character
What is the character’s name? What is their
‘concept,’ vocation, status or title?
Can you tell me a bit more about your character?
What are their motivations?
Who made/wrote the character? Was it you,
someone else, or a combination of sources? Was
there a particular source of inspiration for the
idea?
Assuming you choose to play this character, why
do you think you choose it? Do you think your
character is a reflection (or the opposite) of you in
some way?
Can you tell me about a play experience when
your character felt strong emotions?
When the play was finished, did you still feel
those emotions? If so, how long for? Do you think
any actions on your part affected how long you felt
them for?
How did you feel towards the players of other
characters involved in that play experience?
Did you feel strong emotions towards them
afterwards?
What if anything do you do after role-playing to
“derole” or get out of character?
Looking at different characters you have played,
do you think they have anything in common with
each other?
Do you tend to play particular types of character?
If so, why do you think that is?
What is the character’s personality? Does it differ
from yours? If so, how?
Do you feel that taking part in live role-play has
changed you in the long term? If so, how?
What personality traits does it have in common
with you?
What skills if any have you gained as a result of
taking part in live role-play?
Can you describe a particularly interesting scene,
story, plot or intrigue involving this character?
Are there any negative ways in which taking part
in live role-play has changed you?
What did you do to get ready to play the
character?
Do you feel as if you identify with this character?
Does that feel different to the way you might
identify with a main character when watching a
film?
I’d like you read the following hypothetical
statements, and give a short answer to each one,
saying if you agree or disagree, to what extent, and
expand on your thoughts on the matter.
“Live role-play is a competitive game.”
“Real-life personal growth can and does happen
during live role-play.”
Section 4: Emotional Content
“Live role-play is all about creating a good story.”
This section asks about your general live
role-play experiences. You can draw upon the
experiences playing the characters you have already
described, or other play experiences.
When playing live role-play you feel that you
‘become’ the character you are playing in some
sense? Do you think about your character in the
first person (“I want to...”) or third person (“he/
she wants to...”)?
“It’s good for people to play a character close to
their real selves.”
“Experiencing strong emotions is a sign of a good
role-play event.”
“Live role-play is about becoming or immersing in
your character.”
“Real world religions shouldn’t be mentioned
during play.”
117
“Some live role-play is an art form.”
“Making offensive (e.g. negative comments about
another’s personal appearance) statements while
in-character is ok, because it’s not for real”
“Physically intimate actions shouldn’t happen
during live role-play.”
“In live role-play, it’s good if as much as possible is
physically real.”
Is there anything else you’d like to add?
Nathan Hook completed his MSc in
Psychological Research Methods at the Open University
with the thesis Identities at Play, a social psychology
ethnographic study of live action role-players. He
published a chapter in Immersive Gameplay
reviewing classic psychological experiments from a
games studies perspective. He worked as an organiser
on the international larp Dragonbane, contributed to
published material for D&D and Ars Magica, and has
published freeform role-play scenarios that have been
run in a number of countries. He lives in Bristol, UK.
Email contact: hook_nathan@hotmail.com
Websites: http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/NathHook
http://www.nathanhook.netii.net
Educational Larp:
Topics for Consideration
118
Yaraslau I. Kot
Abstract
This article is designed to provide an introduction
and guidelines to individuals new to live action
role-playing (larp) in education (edu-larp). The main
advantage of the larp method in education is that
larp may include any other pedagogical method or
approach. This paper contains alternative approaches
to education based on research published in both
Russian and English. Also included is a short
overview of the history of Russian edu-larp research,
which dates back as far as 1916-18. The article
features sections on the types and functions of edularp. Additional guidelines and advice for developing
edu-larp games are covered.
Keywords
Pedagogy, larp, role-playing studies, theatre, Russia,
methods, psychology, edu-larp, education
1. Introduction
Many different forms and functions of role-playing
games exist, but this article will remain restricted to
the analysis and structure of live action role-playingbased education (edu-larp). In the former U.S.S.R.
territory, the empiric tradition of official and intensive
larp application in educational processes both in
and outside of schools has almost a hundred year
history. I will discuss this history in brief detail in first
section of this article. Working in education requires
a great amount of responsibility, as the tools at our
disposal are shaping a Person: a living being. Larp
as an educative tool is no exception; larp has great
potential for complex, multidimensional education,
but, as with any tool, the results depend on the person
who wields it. For that reason, some guidelines
are essential to enhance the positive effects and
minimize negative consequences. The main aim of
this article is to provide a version of such guidelines.
First, I will offer a short summary of edu-larp in
the history of education in the U.S.S.R. Then, I will
provide a short discussion on the types and functions
of edu-larp, elaborating on the objectives and uses
of this methodology. Following this discussion, the
paper will offer tips for developing edu-larp games,
with guidelines for establishing the following
aspects: baselines; character descriptions; settings
or preceding situations; character instruction;
and managing the operating sequence. Finally, I
will emphasize the conclusive “summing up” or
debriefing stage, underlining its significance.
2. A short history of edu-larp
in the USSR
To start, I will discuss the history of educational
larps in the U.S.S.R. and Belarus. Even though roleplaying has remained an object of the attention
of Russian scholars for some time, as the works of
Kapterev, Krapivka, and Karavaev in nineteenth
century might suggest, the first conscious, official,
documented application of the larp methodology in
educational processes dates from 1916-18. This new
wave was connected with the name of particular
teacher, sculptor, poet, fiction writer, and visionary:
Inokentiy Nikolaevich Zhukov (1875—1948). These
innovations transpired during the fall of the Russian
Empire and the formation of the U.S.S.R. Zhukov was
the first to organize the movement and to place larp
methodology as a cornerstone in the new educational
system. His concepts of educational theater and long
larp are still remembered. He was responsible for
the invention of the Pioneer movement and many
other fascinating ideas. Zhukov asserts:
No one can deny that one of the main features of
childhood is imitation. In a more vivid form, it is
expressed with pre-school children—all of their
games, whether it is playing with dolls for girls or
a variety of games for boys—all of these games
are in the nature of the imitation of adults. (Zhukov,
Directions 2-3, my translation)
Zhukov also discussed the subject of role-playing
games extensively:
From the usual type of games, these games differ
in that they are never accidental and short, but
can be long-term or even permanent. In these
games, play is serious, merging with life itself...
there have been two main types of these great
educative games.
119
The first of them includes games that are based
on the imitation of contemporary adult citizens. To
this type of games belongs the School Republics
and all kinds of Children’s Clubs... where children
play the School’s Cabinet of Ministers and other
elected officials to develop in young people a
sense of responsibility for others and for the cause
to which they serve, to develop public speaking
and organizational skills, which are essential
to a liberal democratic country... this type of
organized education is based on the imitation of
adults in their community activities.
The organization of the second type... is based
on the properties of imitative young souls as
well, not on imitation of the adults and citizens in
general, but on the imitation of the favorite heroes
of youthful books, or rather a certain type of these
heroes.
The young soul at the age of 12 years is full of
idealistic, romantic impulses. This soul craves...
a feat coupled with risking his life, whether it
is salvation from the water or anything else. It
inevitably involves wandering life in primitive
nature, the full moon, nights of poetry, camp life
in the woods or on the shore of the deep river,
crackling evening fire and fading voices of the
night...
...As in this, and in other types of educational
games—self-education and self-activity are basic
principles, and the enormity of the game and its
severity is a powerful stimulus of an educational
nature.
To conclude this article, repeat again: boring for
students, our rationalist school should be rebuilt
again! In the wide-open door to enter her initiative
and self-education of young people, and not those
poor education efforts that have been made of the
rationalist school with negligible results. (2-3)
In 1918, Zhukov conducted the first of his “longterm larps,” which included over seven hundred
participants aged 12-14 from all the schools of Chita
and was designed to last two and a half years. Such
innovations were strongly supported at first by
Nadejda Krupskaya (1869-1939), who was in charge
of education at the dawn of the U.S.S.R. With the help
of Zhukov’s experience, a national youth organization
called Pioneers was created, all instances of which
were designed by Zhukov using his method of
“permanent” larp. Unfortunately, the Communist
party decided to use all these innovations as mighty
ideological and political tools (Kot, Zhukov).
In addition, larps were examined in the works of
Lev Vygotsky (1896-1934), for example, in his 1929
article “The Problem of the Cultural Development
of the Child” (Vygotsky). However, the most prolific
researcher of larp in the U.S.S.R. by all accounts is
Daniil Elkonin (1904-1984). He published as many as
thirty works on larp and his books on the topic are
still unmatched; in particular, see Artistic Role-playing
Games of Preschool Children and Psychology of
Playing. Daniil published over a hundred works and
some of his most prominent research publications in
particular are on larp.
3. Types and functions of edu-larp
As the historical part of this article demonstrates,
many prominent Russian educators comply with
the notion that people acquire and develop most
of their skills not through intellectual, cognitive
awareness, but through action training. Educational
live action role-playing games are one of the forms
of role-playing that is often used as stimuli in the
educational process (Zhukov, Pedagogy). Indeed,
many other tools for education exist; take, as a
comparison, virtual games, so well promoted by the
research of Johanna Bluemink; Kurt Squire and Henry
Jenkins; and others. If we keep in mind the fact that
the environment of any game is a certain system of
informational flows, in the case of larp, such a system
is unique (Harviainen, “Informational Systems”;
“Ritualistic Games”). Larp, having components of
natural presence action play, as described by Geir
Tore Brenne, uses the highest informational exchange
range through the most possible transmission
channels, therefore surpassing any virtual substitute.
Role-playing is central to the method of personal
versatility and the ability to act. Such games prepare
a person for forthcoming situations, providing an
opportunity to test alternative actions and to choose
the best options (Cherif and Somervill 28). For
example, future employees of hotels can develop
skills in handling customers, salespeople learn to
sell their goods, future employees practice holding
meetings and interviews, such as in MBA training
modules, etc. As Sanne Harder explains:
role-playing can be used as a tool for diverse
forms of content; it is certainly not limited to any
subject in particular. However, it seems to me that
it particularly excels in areas that cover some of
the more elusive elements of curriculum, such as
developing competencies that relate to what kind
of person or citizen you choose to be... (Harder
233)
120
Role-playing helps participants to distinguish
between their own participation and the participation
of others involved. “Trying on” different roles,
participants develop an understanding of the motives
and actions of others, also known as empathy. Even if
participants have difficulty with acting, role-playing
creates an adjustable environment that motivates
individuals to take action. As U.S.S.R. experience
demonstrates, sometimes educators can even use
larps as a mighty ideological tool (Gorinevskiy,
Marts, and Rodin). Nowadays, part of the necessary
program for teachers in every national university
in Belarus still includes the work of Elkonin; his
contributions remain unsurpassed.
Most practicing educational psychologists and
teachers in Belarus determine two main forms
in which edu-larps are played: role-playing with
authentic roles and distributed roles. Role-playing
games with authentic roles simulate possible
situations that the party will have to face in reality
or that the person had already experienced. The
participant adopts a role of his or her own making
from experience. For example, in my courses with
students, we practice a conversation with their
parents, a meeting with a boss, taking an exam,
having a difficult, “bad news” conversation with
a friend, and many other situations. Most people
can relate to authentic roles, as they go through
similar real life situations. Role-playing games with
distributed roles do not enact characters related to
the specific experiences of participants or game
situations. Each character is identified and developed
by a coach/teacher. In this case, team members can
communicate with each other’s roles during the game,
for example, if a participant is given the role of a boss
or a policeman.
Educational role-playing games exist in different
forms and are held for various purposes. I will divide
these groups of objectives into psychological and
pedagogical, further dividing types of games into
subgroups organized according to these objectives.
Role-playing games with psychological objectives
focus on the treatment of psychosomatic disorders
and their prevention. Games with the aim of
achieving mental comfort should be conducted only
under the guidance of a trained and qualified coach.
It is essential for such a person to have certain amount
of guided experience with this particular approach.
As psychological larp methods aim toward stronger
emotional penetration, an operating psychologist
should oversee the process, as he or she would
be able to take on full responsibility and have full
knowledge of possible negative consequences.
The use of psychodramatic techniques
in educational practice has many potential
opportunities and can assist in solving urgent
problems. Practitioners in the field of education
can use psychodrama widely and actively, a highly
efficient method for resolving complex situations and
developing creative, new forms of work. Educators
can use action role-playing in different lessons,
group classes, and as a method of resolution for
various conflicts (Bahr, Chappell, and Leigh 795). For
example, many varieties of small larps exist about
characters with conflicting aims, such as: sharing
inheritance (“The Family Andersson”), newfound
treasure, authority, guilt/blame (“The Tribunal”), or
any other larp with communicational group conflict
resolution (“Phoenix,” “Shades,” etc).
Role-playing games with pedagogical objectives
are often conducted during lessons. The main
goals are behavioral training, social development,
personal development, the use of specific knowledge
in a situation close to the practice, etc.
Specialists also distinguish such forms of edularps as controlled and improvisational. In a controlled
game, the participants agree on the situation, specific
roles, and the approximate course of action in a way
similar to actor training. In improvisational games,
freedom of choice plays a significant part in the
allocation of roles and the description of the given
situation. In this type of game, the availability of a
free course of action is important.
Through a combination of different purposes and
forms of role-playing, edu-larps can arise in various
different forms:
Imitational didactic games: Larps primarily
directed toward cognitive development, such as
solving math and geometry problems in-character.
Business games: Larps used to improve the
culture of interpersonal behavior in a company, to
develop communication skills, to improve team
work, and to enhance professional possibilities.
Often used in business education. For example,
“You belong to two creative teams for two
competing advertising agencies. In two hours, you
are expected to present your advertising strategy
before the representatives of N company.”
Organizational action games Larps with action
and movement as a priority, often directed toward
team work and using competition as a stimuli.
Often used to work with children during physical
education classes and for training of practical skills.
Directorial games: Reenactment of a script
written by a director, often with small,
improvisational content. Often used during
children’s activities, traditional celebrations, or
other cultural gatherings.
121
Stage games: Larps for spectators and an
audience with some prior preparation, but mostly
improvisation.
Sociodrama: Branch of psychodrama, but with
several protagonists. Used for the same purposes
but focused upon working with groups.
Military war games Larps with a large emphasis
on historical reconstruction and/or strategy. Often
used during military training or as a historical
venue and tourist attraction.
Many of these games are quite similar in essence,
but were categorized by scholars for different
purposes.
We can further divide the educative purposes of
larps into three groups based on the area of effect.
According to their main mechanisms, these three
areas are symbolized as Mind, Heart and Body (see
Table 1):
Socio-orienting games: Larps with the purpose
of socialization or correction of behavior. Often
used to help immigrants, children, and foreigners
adjust to new social cultures and traditions.
Theatrical games: Staged games with
predetermined plots, yet with the possibility
of improvisation. Such larps usually include
theatrical exaggeration and methods of
expression.
Plot games: Replaying famous predetermined
plots with the aim of providing an experience to
the player with an educational purpose. Often
used for teaching history, literature, as a social
tradition, or during prisoner/hostage scenarios.
Folk games: Traditional, ritualistic larps
presented locally and played on a regular basis in
certain circumstances.
Games with simulation of social reality Larps
that model certain aspects of social reality in which
particular virtues are demonstrated or learned.
Game dramatization Any other game with the
small addition of characters and conflict.
Game-based theoretical modeling: Larp with
the minimum of illusion and with research or data
collection as the main purpose.
Interactive theater: A mixture of Stage Games
and Psychodrama. Used for group therapy and
can work with big crowds, e.g. “Theater of the
Oppressed,” founded by Augusto Boal. Exists
in forms of Forum Theater and Social Interactive
Theater.
Psychological drama, or psychodrama: Method
of therapy developed by Jacob L. Moreno. Mainly
directed at one protagonist whose issues are
reenacted and investigated during the session.
Role training of imagination: Larp mainly
aimed at the development of imagination, with an
emphasis on an imaginary world.
Mental objectives (of Mind: Cognitive,
educational objectives aimed at improvement;
development and correction of cognitive
processes; analytical skills; and intellectual
virtues.
Emotional objectives (of Heart: Affective
education objectives aimed at improvement;
development and correction of emotional
processes; self-awareness; will management;
imagination; creativity; moral conflict resolution;
and other virtues of character.
Physical objectives (of Body: Psychosocial
education objectives aimed at improvement;
development and correction of behavioral
processes; mechanisms of interpersonal
communication; physical possibilities; and means
to affect the material world (Kot, Sociodramatic
380-381).
4. Tips for developing educational live
action role-playing games
Even though the level of excellence of any larp
game is difficult to predict, “role-play, as an active
learning pedagogy, should be more effective than
traditional pedagogies such as lectures in achieving
significant learning outcomes” (Brummel et al. 10).
The authors continue:
In the formative evaluations of the role-play
sessions, most participants said that the sessions
were worthwhile because they were engaged in
the scenarios, and they valued a realistic learning
experience. The participants stated clearly that
the role-plays captured their attention better than
lectures. Furthermore, the role-plays required
greater personal investment than case studies.
Within the same limited time, a lecture can cover
more issues than a role-play, but our formative
evaluations indicate that participants believe
122
Table 1: The Three Objectives of Edu-Larp
Cognitive education objectives
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
Comprehension of theories
Comprehension of life’s
events
Gaining knowledge
Recognition of social
processes
Personal orientation in
organizations and systems
The development of personal
strategies
Recognition of values
Recognition of the rules,
norms, regulations and their
understanding
Problem analysis
Determination of decision
making processes
Acknowledgement of a
conflict of interests
Recognition of power
structures and hierarchies
Recognition of own
capabilities and weaknesses
Reevaluation of the selfimage/ image of others
“Immersion” in other
people’s roles and situations
(empathy)
Affective education objectives
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
The processing of unpleasant
events
Detection of emotional
components of action
Interpreting personal feelings
and needs
The increase in personal
flexibility
Conflict resolution
Recognition of own
contradictions
Distancing from the situation
Maintaining personal
independence and decisionmaking ability
Promoting sense of humor
Promotion of spontaneity and
creativity
Promotion of tolerance and
solidarity
Increasing sense of personal
comfort
Promotion of group dynamics
that role-plays promote deeper understanding
of the ethical issues and greater appreciation of
divergent perspectives. (Brummel et al. 10)
To determine that participants will use the
role-playing properly and will carry out the game
effectively, educators should ask the following
questions:
• Could this particular goal be most effectively
achieved through a role-playing game?
• Does the chosen form of larp comply with the
objectives of the event?
• Will participants be able to meet the necessary
requirements?
• Is there danger of personal emotions becoming
overexposed, which could cause discomfort,
through the use of this particular role-playing
game?
• Do the game instructions comply with the
Physical education objectives
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
Role adequate behavior
Encouraging responsibility
Ability to cooperate
Training of confidence: the
ability to work in a group
Conduct training
(management, parents, etc.)
Public speaking
Linguistic training
Training of psychomotor
skills in professional
education
Training of communication
abilities (active listening,
interviews, conversations,
confrontational, interviews,
presentation, etc.)
objectives of the game? Are they sufficiently
comprehensive?
• Is the experience gained during the course of the
game applicable to the lesson subject?
• Is the game master/host sufficiently qualified to
deal with possible resistances and obstacles?
This concern also depends upon the authority of
the host, e.g. respected, not respected, avoided,
disliked by children, etc. This condition further
depends upon the specific features of the group,
e.g. young offenders, disabled individuals, rape
victims, hyperactive students, etc.
• What alternative advice can the host/game master
offer to make the game more effective?
Edu-larps are best developed in four stages,
which I will describe below in more detail.
123
a) Baseline (Starting Situation)
To start, the initial situation is needed: a
conversation related to sales, a complaint with an
employee, a discussion with colleagues, etc. The
selected situation should be familiar to the students
(possible, close to practice), contain a conflict, and
provide boundaries adequate to the objectives of
this particular edu-larp. The last requirement is
especially important because role-playing games are
not easy to monitor and are always limited in some
ways. You cannot play out the whole conflict situation,
so the game should provide the facts preceding and
provoking the conflict. Game designers can find
the inspiration for the situation in daily work, in the
stories of colleagues or friends, in books, etc. To
have a stockpile of ideas, keep a record of your daily
exploits; anything you hear or encounter may come
handy.
b) Character description
With a Baseline ready, we still need characters
that are likely to act in this situation. These characters
must be imaginable. They should be realistic,
sufficiently described, and have both positive and
negative character traits. Apply the suggested fourstep approach, which uses a business scenario as an
example:
Personal information: These aspects include
name, age, ethnicity, social status, environment,
housing, hobbies, background, etc.
Professional information: The character’s area
of expertise, acquired skills, years of experience
working in the company, steps of career, current
position, style of work, plans for the future,
relationship with superiors, colleagues, customers,
etc. Sometimes even more importantly, describe
the skills the character lacks, etc.
Personal qualities: The main objectives,
character traits, strengths, weaknesses, personal
norms, and values that shape the character’s
behavior, qualities, etc.
Material requirements: Prerequisite individual
props, costumes, makeup, etc.
Since imagining a character is sometimes quite
difficult when it lives only on paper, you can gather
features from friends and colleagues. Perhaps, you
will find a reference point from a character in a TV
show, book, etc. Nevertheless, keep in mind that
participants might find playing a character similar to
their own persona easier. As Sarah Lynne Bowman
explains, “[though] experienced role-players dismiss
the practice of enacting personas similar to the
primary identity as amateurish... many players create
a Doppelganger Self when new to the game and still
learning the world, as playing someone similar to
one’s self is far easier” (264)
c) Preceding situation
Each situation is played out in a particular
environment. Participants must pay attention to two
levels. First of all, they must understand the macro
level of situation: For whom does your character
work? How long has the company existed? What
has happened in world in this scenario? etc. All
characters may commonly know this information.
In addition, players must understand the basis of
the micro level of situation: How did this situation
occur? What is the immediate pre-history? Where
and how did the action of the game commence?
etc. Knowledge of this information could vary from
character to character. Both macro and micro levels
of information will become important for the players
later in the game as a basis for situational behavior.
d) Character instruction
Providing instructions for playing the role of, for
example, the Loving Father already gives specific
guidance on suggested action, how the character
should behave during a call, and to what purpose the
character should aspire. These recommendations
often begin with the words: “You’ve come to...”
Also, you may entrust the “game territory” to the
participants. In this case, character instruction will
sound something like, “You have been summoned to
Big Boss...”
You might find the following points useful during
the role-play. First, the more complex the dynamics
of the game, the more it develops; the participants
will improvise and continue playing. Second, the
greater the risk of loss of control over the game, the
less the game supervisor can control and predict
the inner processes of each of the participants; e.g.
“Everyone sees what they want to see.”
From a psychological point of view, role-playing
provides an integrated method in which, as never
before in other forms of training, you can refer to a
sensitive, emotional side of the process. The unique
adjustability of this method offers the supervisor the
possibility to manage and coordinate larp on the spot.
124
5. Willingness
The organizers cannot plan the willingness of
students to participate in the game. Willingness
will manifest itself only during the process, though
methods exist to invoke it. Hence, some participants
may reject role-playing as a method. For example,
some people find the word “game” distasteful or
do not feel passion for going through the stress of
altering their own complex of psychological features
and adapting/ transforming. Therefore, organizers
must address the issue of voluntariness before the
game, and, if any refuse to participate, organizers
must remove them without pressure and criticism.
For these students, you must have a different task on
hand; for example, non-participants may observe the
process of preparation for the game and analyze the
larp as it unfolds.
Verbal detail and accuracy of the game
instructions does not ensure that the participants
will understand the game in the same way as the
supervisor hoped. Good instructions for the game
are a prerequisite for providing greater insight, the
possibility of reaching the individual characteristics
of participants, and accessing their specific
experience of life and work (Zaharov).
Role-playing games can run normally, but
the feelings and emotions of participants remain
untouched. The reason may lie in the wording of the
game manual or if the preparation process did not
reach the sensuous consciousness of participants. In
this situation, the supervisor should ask participants
what they would like to change in order for the
scenario to feel adequate. Therefore, the main idea
of the game description/instruction should not
represent something that the author of the game
wants to say, but something that will help participants
to understand and comprehend it.
Players, first of all, note what they can relate to in
the proposed situation; e.g. what in their memory is
associated with words such as family, the zoo, Sunday,
walking, etc. Edu-larps should work with personal
images. Learning about the participants’ previous
learning experiences and their expectations of this
educational session may help.
Participants understand the instructions in
accordance with their personal views about the
whole process of learning and about the specific
topic. If this situation is easily relatable and/or they
feel comfortable with it, students will believe that
they are able to influence the learning process due to
the anticipation of control. One way or another, they
will agree to participate.
Organizers should evaluate the instructions of
the game for compliance with certain personal rules
of behavior, because no one wants to feel ridiculed,
embarrassed, or uncomfortable. All that happens in
the larp should leave the impression of spontaneity,
yet with a strong impression of credibility.
The participants should decide if they will use
models of behavior well known, adopted, and tested
by experience, or if they should use standard roles
from life, television, theatre, books, etc. All of this
information mixes with the objectives of the course
and the assumptions that students have about the
expectations of their supervisor, also known as the
hidden agenda of the game master. This information
manifests in the personal/hidden instructions of the
specific character/player.
This process only lasts a few seconds, but is
valuable to the participants. However, they often do
not realize this importance, as the brain automatically
checks the information before it comes into play. In
this situation, the central concept is “Tele,” “Moreno’s
term for what might variously be called “rapport” in
its broadest sense” (Blatner). Moreno explains, “we
use the words... telephone, television, etc., to express
action at a distance, so to express the simplest unit
of feeling transmitted from one individual towards
another we use the term tele” (cited in Blatner).
For example, tele often happens during the larp
ritualistic improvisation when participants operate
simultaneously without prior agreements. Thus, tele
means the ability of emotional perception, an ability
that relies upon the tangibility of mutual assessment.
Tele applies to the main skills of the teacher/
supervisor, allowing the teacher to wordlessly tell to
the participant: “I think you are able to play this role.”
6. Operating sequence
Preferably, the supervisor should hold the edularp to a consistent working order, because this
stability provokes an additional sense of confidence
in the participants.
Action agreement: The coach/teacher and the
players state what they want to achieve with this
role-playing game and agree on the methods and
structure of the game.
The creation of the “scene”: The teacher must
make clear that the situation in question is
imaginary and should appoint a specific location
to the game with specific boundaries, such as a
classroom, a house, etc. As J. Tuomas Harviainen
explains, boundaries give participants a sense
of security and confidence. Players will feel free
to act “in game” in certain places and can leave
those areas to exit the game:
For liminal learning games and simulations...
125
attention should be paid to their boundary
control measures and the way the games
extend or avoid information uncertainty. This
will not only make said simulation/ games
more effective, but also more enjoyable to
participants and more effective as knowledge
anchors in the long run. (Harviainen,
“Ritualistic” 16)
Making the “scene” work In order to better
relate to the situation, players must equip “the
scene.” The group must decide and agree upon
props, such as tables and chairs; which items are
still in place, for example, a plant in a pot; where
the doors and windows are, etc.
The distribution of roles: For the success of
educational role-playing games, organizers
should give participants a short, but expressive
and comprehensive description of roles. Also
teachers should always ask participants if they
have sufficient information about their roles: name,
sex, age, origin, family, work situation, values,
goals, interests, views, etc.
Managing the game: The supervisor—or teacher,
game master, psychologist etc.—does not take
part in the game. Thus, the teacher remains a
neutral observer, and can intervene or interrupt
the game at any time if necessary.
Precise lead-in and exit from the game: Players
take roles voluntarily and should feel capable
of exiting the game at all times. During the
game, participants should use the names of the
characters, not the players. Participants clearly
signal when the role-playing game starts and
when it ends.
Summing up: Related terms are “forum” and
“sharing” (Boal) or “debriefing” in the Nordic
tradition. After the role-playing game, the
organizer should hold a discussion where all
participants provide feedback on the main idea
of the game. The discussion should focus on
the goals, or Action agreement, and not other
purposes.
7. Summing up
The “forum,” or “sharing,” is often organized in
three steps.
The first step is Sharing one’s own experience.
Participants talk about their own feelings and
experiences in the game; observers talk about what
they saw. Participants and spectators relate the
content to their personal experience (ZinkevichEvstigneeva); e.g. “What did this situation remind
me of?”
The second step is Analysis. When discussing
reasons for appropriate behavior in the roles,
participants share conclusions made about human
relationships, talk about possible alternatives, and
describe other models of role behavior.
The third step is Transfer. Transfer occurs when
students compare the game to real life situations
and can make general conclusions. During this step,
students can discuss and agree upon succeeding
action; for example, the group may decide to replay
the game to try out another possible line of action.
Keep in mind that, unfortunately, no precise and
generally accepted rules exist on how to express
comments toward another person and positively
affect the object of feedback. Therefore, many feel
insecure when asked to comment on a particular
situation or specific behavior.
In order for feedback after the role-playing
game to remain effective for the person voicing the
comment and for the person receiving it, players
should distinguish three levels in their comments:
Player: In relation to the person, the player issuing
a comment should have a positive attitude, such as
“I like you for who you are.”
Result: At this level, players comment upon ingame actions, such as:
“I am not quite satisfied with the results achieved in
the game.”
“I am satisfied/not satisfied with your success in
sales.”
Behavior: At this level, the participants talk about
their perception of the behavior of another player,
such as:
“I do not like it when you interrupt me.” (Not: “You
keep interrupting me”).
“It was pleasure to chat with you in this game.”
Unfortunately, especially in vocal comments,
these levels are often mixed, leading to confusion
after the comment. Therefore, no comments
should feature advice, evaluative statements, or
interpretation. Turning comments into questions
often helps, giving the subject multiple options and
freedom to express their opinions. Participants
should avoid any comments that are not directed to
the coordination of the process. Finally, the teacher
leading the session should offer psychological
support or approval for every insight offered.
In conclusion, I would like to note that specific
126
guidelines are present in edu-larp activities that
make them relatively harmless. Every game host
should remain aware of their responsibility and
consciously accept it. We should remember that the
more functions and effects of larps we determine,
the greater the obligation we have to research the
possible negative outcomes of each of them. Finally,
the more we research larp, the further our horizons
expand. Larp is even more diverse than life itself,
limited only by our infinite imagination.
Works Cited
Bahr, Steven J., Chappell, C. Bradford, Leigh, Geoffrey K.
“Age at Marriage, Role Enactment, Role Consensus,
and Marital Satisfaction.” Journal of Marriage and the
Family 45.4 (1983): 795- 803.
Bender, Tisha. “Role playing in Online Education: A
Teaching Tool to Enhance Student Engagement and
Sustained Learning.” Innovate 1.4 (2005).
Blatner, Adam. “Tele: The Dynamics of Rapport.” Blatner.
com. 26 Feb. 2006. Web. 13 Dec. 2012.
http://www.blatner.com/adam/pdntbk/tele.htm.
Bluemink, Johanna. Virtually Face to Face: Enriching
Collaborative Learning through Multiplayer Games.
Dissertation. Oulu, Finland: University of Oulu, 2001.
Boal, Augusto. The Theater of the Oppressed. New York:
Urizen Books, 1979. Print
Bowman, Sarah Lynne. The Functions of Role-playing Games:
How Participants Create Community, Solve Problems,
and Explore Identity. Jefferson, NC: McFarland &
Company, Inc. 2010.
Brenne, Geir Tore. Making and Maintaining Frames: A
Study of Metacommunication in Laiv Play. Thesis. Oslo,
Norway: University of Oslo, 2005.
http://www.efatland.com/fate/Making_frames.pdf.
Breslav, G.E. Psychological Correction of Childrens’s and
Teenager’s Aggression. St. Petersberg, Russia: Rech,
2007.
Brummel, Bradley J., Gunsalus, C. K., Anderson, Kerri L., &
Loui, Michael C. “Development of Role-play Scenarios
for Teaching Responsible Conduct of Research.” Sci
Eng Ethics 16 (2010): 573-589.
Cherif, Abour H. and Christine H. Somervill. “Maximizing
Learning: Using Role Playing in the Classroom.” The
American Biology Teacher 57.1 (1995): 28-33.
Elkonin, Daniil. Artistic Role-playing Games of Preschool
Children. Moskow, USSR: 1957.
Elkonin, Daniil. Psychology of Playing. Moskow, USSR: 1978.
Gorinevskiy V.V., Marts V.G., Rodin A.F. Games and
Entertainment. 3rd edition. Moskow-Leningrad, USSR:
Central Committie of Revolutionary Komsomol Union
of Youth, 1922. Print.
Harder, Sanne. “Confessions of a Schoolteacher:
Experiences with Role-playing in Education.” Lifelike.
Ed. Jesper Donnis, Morten Gade, and Line Thorup.
Copenhagen, Denmark: Projektgruppen KP07, 2007.
228-235.
Harviainen, J. Tuomas. “Information, Immersion, Identity.
The Interplay of Multiple Selves During Live-action
Role-play.” Journal of Interactive Drama 1.2 (2007): 9-15.
Print.
Harviainen, J. Tuomas. “Live-action, Role-playing
Environments as Informational Systems: An
Introduction.” Proceedings of the Sixth International
Conference on Conceptions of Library and Information
Science—”Featuring the Future” 12.4. October 2007.
Web. 13 Dec. 2012.
http://informationr.net/ir/12-4/colis/colis24.html.
Harviainen, J. Tuomas. “Ritualistic Games, Boundary
Control and Information Uncertainty.” Simulation &
Gaming 43.4 (2012): 506-527.
http://sag.sagepub.com/content/43/4/506.abstract.
Harviainen, J. Tuomas. Systemic Perspectives on Information
in Physically Performed Role-play. Dissertation.
Tampere University Press, 2012. Web. 13 Dec. 2012.
http://acta.uta.fi/pdf/978-951-44-8914-3.pdf.
Harviainen, J. Tuomas. “The Tribunal.” Playing the
Learning Game: A Practical Introduction to Educational
Roleplaying. Ed. Martin E. Andresen. Oslo, Norway:
Fantasiforbundet, 2012. 70-79. http://www.lulu.com/
shop/martin-eckhoff-andresen/playing-the-learninggame/paperback/product-20063701.html.
Kot, Yaraslau I. “Long-term Larp of Inokentiy Zhukov.”
Moskow. 2012. Print.
127
Kot, Yaraslau I. “Sociodramatic Tale Therapy (Live
Action Role Playing) as a Method of Alternative
Rehabilitation.” Alternative Rehabilitation. Minsk,
Belarus: RIVSH, 2012. 380-386. Print.
Nolemo, Åke and Röklander, Johan. “The Family Andersson:
A Contemporary Drama with Time Pressure.” Playing
the Learning Game: A Practical Introduction to
Educational Roleplaying. Ed. Martin E. Andresen. Oslo,
Norway: Fantasiforbundet, 2012. 46-57.
Passov, E.I. Communicational Method of Teaching Foreign
Speaking. Moskow, Russia: Prosveshchenie, 1985.
Shtutsenberger, A. A. “Drama of a Terminally Ill Person:
Fifteen Years of Psychodrama with Cancer.”
Psychodrama: Inspiration and Technique. Ed. P. Holms,
et al. Moskow, Russia: Klass, 1997. 217-245.
Yaraslau I. Kot studied Creative Writing,
Drama, and Art at Yale University’s Milford Academy
in the US. He received his Masters in Law at Belarus
State University. Kot then completed the Ph.D. level at
the Academy of Management under the aegis of the
President of the Republic of Belarus. Next, Kot received
his B.A. in Management at the International Institute
of Management LINK in Russia. Completing his MBA
at the Open University in the United Kingdom, he
further received his B.A. in Practical Psychology and
Educational Science at the Academy of Postgraduate
Education of the Ministry of Education of the Republic of
Belarus. Kot is currently working on a research Masters
in Psychology on larp at Belarus State University.
Email contact: mr.kot@inbox.ru
Squire, Kurt and Henry Jenkins. “Harnessing the Power of
Games in Education.” InSight 3 (2003): 7-33.
Vygotsky, Lev. “The Problem of the Cultural Development
of the Child.” Marxists.org. 1929. Web. http://www.
marxists.org/archive/vygotsky/works/1929/cultural_
development.htm.
Zaharov, A. I. Games as a Means of Overcoming Childhood
Neurosis. St. Petersberg, Russia: Karo, 2006.
Zhukov, Inokentiy N. The Job of Play in Pedagogy (Discussion).
Chita, USSR: 1921. Print.
Zhukov, Inokentiy N. Two Directions for the Evolution of
Education. Chita, USSR: 1918. Print.
Zinkevich-Evstigneeva, Tatyana Dmitrievna. Psychotherapy
of Addictions: Method of Tale Therapy. St. Petersberg,
Russia: Rech, 2011.
Larp in an Interdisciplinary
University Course
128
Neal McDonald
Alan Kreizenbeck
Abstract
We describe a class that we taught at the University
of Maryland, Baltimore County in Spring of 2012. The
class was jointly taught by a theater and a visual arts
professor. Students read papers and played larps.
The professors taught the class to learn about larp
and to see how different game styles and mechanics
work. We found that teaching larp was similar to
teaching theater, and that taking one class did not
enable students to both participate in larps and
design larps. This paper describes preparations
before the class started, activities during the
semester, and ideas for improvements.
Keywords
Pedagogy, larp, role-playing studies, theatre, visual
arts, higher education
1. Before starting:
How to motivate professors
In Spring 2012 at the University of Maryland,
Baltimore County, Professor Neal McDonald and
Dr. Alan Kreizenbeck taught a larp class. Neither of
us had much experience in the form, but both had
seen and read enough to feel the subject was worth
investigation. A class that played the games seemed
a good first step.
Neal McDonald is an Assistant Professor in
UMBC’s Animation and Interactive Media (AIM)
concentration. Most of the art of animation involves
making inanimate objects act, so McDonald has
studied theater in one way or another for a decade.
Prof. McDonald’s research focus is game
development. While “game studies” is accepted as
an academic field, much of its content is sociology,
psychology, or literary criticism (Fine; Bogost;
Raine, Mäyrä, and Suominen; Aarseth). The study of
games per se by making them, even in 2012, can be
problematic for some academics; Prof. McDonald’s
intuition is that larp’s obvious links to performance
and theater (Condon; Stenros and Montola 10) would
make the form appealing to his more conservative
colleagues.
He felt constrained by his own ignorance, and
the introversion of his students, as they had roundly
rebuffed actor’s training on several occasions.
For instance, Dr. Kreizenbeck had visited one of
McDonald’s animation classes in 2009 to introduce
student animators to acting and movement exercises
that might help make their creations seem more lifelike, but several of the students were too inhibited to
do simple movement exercises.
Dr. Kreizenbeck was intrigued by the possibility
of working on a theatre piece—which was how he
viewed larp events—with individuals who were, to
him, physically and vocally inhibited young artists.
The class also provided him with the opportunity to
explore another unconventional method: engaging
no-theatre artists in a theatrical creation.
Discussions between the two, starting in 2009,
explored the overlaps between animation, game
design, and theater. A chance meeting in November
of 2011, a month after Prof. McDonald’s first larp
experience, led to the last-minute construction of
a seminar class that would investigate larp, and
especially Nordic larp, by playing the games.
2. Setting up the class
The professors divided the work of teaching
the class into two parts. Dr. Kreizenbeck would
teach acting and build the students up to the point
that they could play the games and Prof. McDonald
would present games and literature from the larp
community.
Our goal was to see a wide variety of games in
play. Pursuant to that, we chose games that differed
in goals, design, genre, and emotional content. We
knew that our players would lack experience, so we
reserved the first third of the class for training and
team-building.
2.1 Textual Resources
“Knutepunkt” is one of the names of the larp
conference series that rotates between the Nordic
countries; Knutpunkt, Knudepunkt and Solmukohta
are the other names, depending on the language of
the host nation. Since 2001, these conferences have
published essay collections in concert with each
event (“Knutepunkt”). The Knutepunkt public essays
129
became the central texts, as they were convenient,
free, and easily available.
We made an effort to include American games.
One company, called Shifting Forest, provided
particularly appropriate works: a set of “conference
games,” intended for strangers to play in less than six
hours (“Shifting”). We also looked at games from the
“Game Chef” competitions (Walton), Game Poems
(Majcher), Corvis (“Norwegian”), websites from
conventions such as Intercon (New England), and
innumerable message boards. An enormous amount
of material is available.
All of the games that we played in-class had
several characteristics in common. They were all
freely downloadable in standard text-document
formats. They all described the creative goals of their
authors. They all contained hints for players beyond
simple background and motivation. They gave runtime estimates. Several also included helpful notes
on the timing of in-game events: “After the door is
opened, A and B will argue.”
For most of the games, we had never seen them
run, and we had never met anyone who had run them.
If you are game developer who wishes her game to
survive, overdocument. “You had to have been there”
is a taunt, not a description.
2.2 Physical resources
The class was scheduled to meet in a mediumsized classroom, full of desks and chairs. UMBC’s
Department of Visual Arts has control of one
performance space, which we were able to occupy
during class time for most of the semester. It
contained scrap lumber and screens that we used to
build a few simple sets.
Immersion is a goal of many larpwrights.
Classically immersive larp productions take
great pains with sets, embedding the players in
an environment in which everything the player
experiences is appropriate to the game world
(Bøckman 12-13). We did not attempt an immersive
experience until the last game. By the time we were
familiar with some of the less resource-intensive
strategies, the class was over.
to perform. A few of the students were so shy that
they were unable to participate even in classroom
discussions. We expected this issue, and wrote a
grading policy into the syllabus that specifically
punished unapologetic introversion: 40 percent of the
final grade was participation (McDonald).
Even the students who were there willingly were
a different kind of player than is usual in larps. There
were add/drop deadlines and full-time enrollment
scholarship questions; players were not free to
choose whether to participate in a given scene. And,
of course, we were giving out grades.
Power imbalances are a fact of life in academia.
One rarely gets to teach only the willing. Syllabi
and frank, first-day discussions that set behavioral
expectations and carefully explain grading criteria
compensate students for their surrender of control.
The sexual content of many larps is inappropriate
in a university setting. Students did not enroll in the
class with the expectation of having to depict sexual
situations. Again, we discussed the situation on the
first day, making a distinction between depiction of
a gender identity and participation in it—that is, it is
possible for a man to act like a woman without kissing
a man. We could require one, we said; the other, we
could not.
One person (12% of enrollment) dropped the
class after this discussion; we were prepared for
30%. By the end of the term, some, but not all, of the
students were comfortable depicting sexual topics,
without any pressure from the instructors to become
so. This fact is probably the clearest indicator of the
class’s success.
Another difference: time outside of class was
generally unavailable. All the students had full
academic schedules and most of them had necessary
part-time jobs. We declared on the first day that
class activities would take up the weekend of May
5th, and that one other game would require meeting
for a few hours beyond class time. All other class
activities, aside from readings, were done during
the scheduled class time. Much of Nordic larp uses
long-term immersion to achieve its effects (Koljonen);
these effects would remain unavailable to us, except
perhaps at the end.
2.4 Similar classes
2.3 The students
The students in the class were all from the
Department of Visual Arts; no Theatre majors
enrolled. There were nine students: four women and
five men.
Animators are not generally extroverts; some
choose their major specifically to avoid needing
We had a specific experience in mind: short
Freeform games, and a wide variety of other games,
played briefly. The class is part of a game-design
curriculum; seeing many mechanics in play seemed
valuable. This strategy is cautious: we had not played
any of these games, so we were disinclined to spend
more than four classes on any particular work.
130
In America, the only other larp class of which
we are aware is Ed Chang’s at the University of
Washington, which also ran in Spring 2012 (Chang).
Its readings were more sociological, and the only
game mentioned in the class syllabus is Archaea, a
game that he designed. Also, Chang’s was an 11week class, whereas ours was 18 weeks. Professor
Chang’s class materials were not online when we
were designing our class.
A general search of the Internet turned up no
other classes. Prof. McDonald has seen emails and
heard casual discussions of university classes on larp
taught elsewhere, but he has no information on their
goals or evidence that they actually happened.
3. Running the Class
We divided the class into thirds: three sets of five
weeks. In the first third, we focused on readings and
acting lessons. In the second third, we tried to run
one short game every week or two. In the third part,
we focused on one big, last game.
3.1 The first five weeks
We started with the assumption that the students
would begin the class with no actors’ training and
no experience with role-playing games of any kind.
This prediction was mostly accurate; one student had
participated in one larp and one other student had
some training as an actor.
3.1.1 Acting lessons
Acting sessions were carefully designed to
prepare students to not only create and participate
in larps, but to make them capable of doing so in a
more meaningful, theatrical manner. The first acting
classes were designed to release physical and vocal
tension, to develop notions of how improvisation
might work, and the possibilities of what might get
discovered in that process. This latter work involved
exercises in which students were asked to listen to
their partners, create imaginary situations that were
based on their interactions with others in the class,
and make emotionally and physically expressive
connections to what they created. Alan’s belief was
that the best larps are those that allow participants
to experience and express themselves in ways not
possible or acceptable in “non-larp” life, and to
find those experiences and expressions through
physical actions. This sort of acting work is based on
the theory and practices of Constantin Stanislavsky,
Mikhail Chekov, and Jerzy Grotowski; the practices
of these men constitute—in one form or another—the
basis for most actor training world-wide. Once initial
embarrassment was overcome and the tendency
to want to become monsters or ninjas in all the
exercises was thwarted, the students made good
progress; in fact, their progression differed little from
a demanding, beginning acting class.
3.1.2 FATE and Papers
We started with readings that defined terms,
detailed creative goals, and described the
experience of playing games. The list of readings is
given in the syllabus (McDonald). We tried to limit
discussions of the readings to 10-20 minutes in order
to prioritize the acting lessons.
The third week of class was taken up by a run
of Evil Hat Productions’ FATE: Spirit of the Century
tabletop role-playing game. We chose to play FATE
in order to contextualize larp, filling students in, in a
visceral way, on what the activity was that gave rise to
larping.
FATE met our needs well; a recent RPG, the
rules for play are straightforward (as RPGs go), the
rulebook is a free download, and the subject matter is
innocuous and cheerfully silly. The game generates
characters whose backstories are always intertwined;
we referred to this element often for the rest of the
semester. The game also elegantly incorporates
character generation into game play. Though some
were too shy to play, by the end of the session,
everyone, at least, knew how to do so.
3.2 The second five weeks
3.2.1 Running Prayers
Prof. McDonald had participated in a run of
J. Tuomas Harviainen’s Prayers on a Porcelain Altar
(Demythologized Version), v.4.0 at the Nordic Digital
Games Research Association (DiGRA) 2011 run by
Jaakko Stenros, so he chose it as the class’s first larp.
Prayers was run in Maryland as it was run at DiGRA:
an authentic Nordic larp experience.
In many ways, Prayers is the perfect first larp.
It is intended to run in 90 minutes, enough for one
class period. Prayers does not require the players
to develop a character and the characters are all
college-aged. Its emotional range is disgust and
anger, so nervous people can make jokes and stay
sarcastic, good emotional distancing techniques for
acting neophytes.
While the game’s sexual content was ignored, the
students did physically get into character and stay
131
in-character. Emotional interactions were muted, but
present. Disgusting jokes were made: Green vomited
into the refrigerator. Not all players participated
equally; the shy ones just pretended to sleep or
watched the whole time.
In the class following that first game, attempts
to have a classroom discussion about the work
or the performances met with blank stares and
uncomfortable silence. We were taken aback. We
moved on.
3.2.2 Running All Saint’s Eve
The Shifting Forest games are designed to run
at conferences, among strangers, with little time for
preparation, in an amount of time comparable to a
class period. The characters were of limited scope,
but designed to interact and conflict. There were
twelve games available online at the beginning of
the semester, all using basically the same mechanic.
These factors made them easy to compare, though
the games tell many different stories. The students
looked at several and went with All Saints’ Eve; they
liked the idea of a haunted house.
The game’s run took one week. During the first
class period, we went over character materials and
discussed the game mechanics. Students discussed
their characters with instructors and planned out
costumes, which amounted to little more than
relatively formal or informal dress for one class
period. We borrowed a few prop weapons from
the Theater department’s collection. We built a set
with four walls and a closet, with a locked door, two
days before the game ran. We ran the game itself for
only two hours—half the time that the instructions
recommend. This time was sufficient to hit the
planned plot points described in the libretto.
We found All Saints’ Eve more difficult to play
than Prayers. None of the students played as a person
similar to themselves, though we did not cross
gender-preference lines. The acting was tentative;
life-or-death confrontations, which were liberally
strewn throughout the text, fizzled into uncertainty
or were ignored; relationships supposedly built over
years were forgotten. We all ignored the game’s
system for resolving conflict.
Prof. McDonald played the role of the demon,
forcing characters to act against their interests. This
was a mistake; it clashed with the reluctance of the
players to emotionally commit to the piece. Instructor
meddling only increased the resistance.
However, on the whole, the game worked. The
game’s characters and situations force the players into
conflict, one of the game’s goals. The players felt the
rising tensions that the work intended. Towards the
end, character motivations began to supersede player
preferences. Players shot and stabbed each other,
wrestled for the gun, defiled the shrine, mourned their
children, and died meaningless, pitiful deaths.
3.2.3 Running The Upgrade
For the next game, the students were allowed
to choose between Previous Occupants and The
Upgrade, two Nordic Freeform games. Both
use cinematic techniques, like flashbacks, and
“telegraphing,” an improvisational method of adding
character or environmental attributes during play
by simply mentioning them as true. The students,
being animators, quickly caught onto the idea of
“timeline manipulation”: a slightly more technically
complex form of play. Telegraphing caught on after
the professors demonstrated it a few times, but
the technique is difficult; one must act, invent new
information, integrate the invention with the scene,
and convey one’s invention to the other players, and
they must be ready to understand it.
The game’s conceit is that of a reality TV show,
presented in a “Real Life” series of interviews,
intercut with earlier scenes that are discussed in the
interviews. The premise of the reality show is that
couples, unsure of their desire to stay in a current
relationship, travel to a resort island and swap
partners on dates. Prize money and cross-purposes
complicate relationships further. Two “producer”
characters conduct the interviews, working to
exaggerate drama and create conflict for the sake of
sensationalism and ratings.
The game describes itself as being playable
as a farce, though it does not recommend that
interpretation. The students wanted to play it as a
farce; farces have low emotional stakes. The first
part of the game was sloppily comical, but, as the
funny situations were generally funny at someone’s
expense, the mood darkened.
3.2.4 “And now for something completely
different...”
After The Upgrade, we looked at other Freeform
games and decided as a group that they were
depressing: rape, molestation, murder, dead
children, amoral hussies—let’s do some comedy.
Whose Line Is It, Anyway? was a successful,
skit-based, television program that ran in Britain
and America (“Whose?”). Professor McDonald
had looked at it before when researching actors’
games; its format is drawn from “TheatreSports,” an
improvisational form that had some popularity in
Britain in the late 80’s (Leep 110). Actors would form
teams and compete—but, as the show’s motto said,
“the points mean nothing.”
132
The Wikipedia page for the show links to a list
of all the games played in the 12 years that different
versions of the show ran on radio and television
in Britain and America (“List”). What a gold mine!
For two weeks, the class got eaten by dinosaurs,
broke up with hillbillies, or fought duels as Russian
cowboy mimes.
Two weeks was more than enough; the games did
not produce a wide variety of experiences. However,
when Whose Line Is It, Anyway? was over, everyone
was comfortable with the group; they had finally
become performers.
Improv in this form is different from larp in goal,
method, and duration. The only goal in comedy
improv is to make an audience laugh. Though one
could imagine larps in which characters are created
and discarded every few minutes, generally larps go
to the opposite extreme.
The similarities between the skills demanded for
the two are therefore surprising: players, in character,
embedded in a fictional situation, improvising. The
contrasts discovered are similar to correlations
between Bach’s piano inventions and his concertos;
both are music, but what a difference.
We conducted the exercise in a state park; the
“walk through the forest” was actually a walk through
the forest. The mansion filled with food was a park
shelter; in it were pictures of food. The shrine was
another park shelter; Dr. Kreizenbeck placed fruit,
water, and pictures of icons in this structure. Students
were asked to think of themselves as poor, but devout
people, whose journey to the shrine was the spiritual
highlight of their lives. In fact, they could not expect
to attain spiritual peace or enlightenment, ever,
unless they completed this journey. Students were
asked to walk at the pace that their character might
walk, to engage with their surroundings, and to think
what this journey meant to them—as their character
and as themselves.
The exercise touches upon many issues that face
actors. It lets them practice at staying in character
for several hours. It is an opportunity to develop
a physical presence for a character. It gives time
for developing character responses to a variety of
experiences. It develops imagination and focus.
These goals are essentially the same for students in
any acting class.
The park used was a 10-minute drive from UMBC.
It is covered with trails, one of them paved. A paved
trail follows the Patapsco River, which is crossable
only at a few points— thus, we thought, getting lost
3.3 The last five weeks
was not an issue.
3.3.1 Running Perilous Journey
Liability law dictated that we had to have the
students transport themselves to and from the venue.
It took forty minutes for nine people to drive two
This game is more of an exercise, one that Alan
had run several times in the course of teaching actors. miles.
The exercise took four hours, more than planned
The trail, unfortunately, was not as clearly marked
(see below); it is doable in much less time. All of the
as we thought, and all of the students ended up
students participated. The facilitators described the
wandering, “lost,” going off the main trail into what
situation, established the path to follow, and created
seemed like an endless forest. Fortunately, everyone
and placed some props. In it, players imagine
was found well before nightfall. Not everyone found
themselves as medieval peasants conducting a
the shrine.
religious pilgrimage, walking through a dangerous
The experience of “being lost,” even in this mild
forest. There is a mansion filled with food two-thirds
manner, left a deep impression. In the final project,
of the way along the trail, and, at the end, a shrine
replication of the emotional charge of being “lost in
and a holy man. In many ways, this exercise—without the forest” was a design goal for all of the students.
the dire consequences if one fails to complete the
Between location scouting, going to the park,
journey—represents coming of age ceremonies
actually doing the exercise, and the postmortems,
present in many communal societies. In these rituals,
running this activity took two weeks; again, going offa young male is sent out to survive in the world with
site is difficult.
only his accrued knowledge and a few supplies. He
While getting lost caused many of the students
is allowed to return to the community after an allotted to drop their character and become themselves,
time. If he does, he is accepted as a full member
it also made them aware of the lack of safety and
of his unit. If he does not return, the tribe assumes
security they could experience; getting lost became
that his skills and knowledge were not sufficient
a different, but meaningful larp. For example,
for survival. Even more analogous are pilgrimages
students were confronted with the following: How
practiced in nearly all, if not all, of the major world
did I act/think in that situation? Were my thoughts/
religions. This exercise is a melding of the two: the
actions in sync with the persona I usually present/
religious quest through a harsh environment.
like to present? What is the “me” when it loses basic
controls? How is “lost” a metaphor for my life?
133
3.3.2 Running Shipwreck
The next week, Alan ran another actor’s exercise
called Shipwreck. It ran for one class period,
approximately an hour and fifteen minutes. No
previous preparation was required. All the students
participated fully. The facilitator described the
activities that the students performed. It used physical
exhaustion to break down participants’ resistance
to suggestion and then manipulated them. The goal
here is to create access to deeper feelings and ideas,
those often hidden or kept at bay by the amazing
effort it takes to navigate daily life. The exercise is
often liberating for the participants and though they
may be physically tired, they are also exalted: being
tired in this way seems to release more energy. The
exercise was conducted in a borrowed, empty dance
studio.
The exercise features three phases: shipwreck,
treasure, and return. During the shipwreck, Alan
verbally described a shipwreck, swimming to shore
on a deserted island, exploring the island, being
chased by deadly enemies, and ultimately escaping
into an underground cavern. In the second phase,
the cavern was revealed to contain many treasures,
none described in detail. Players found their “most
precious thing,” examined it, and put it back. In the
third phase, players left the cavern, found a boat and
returned home.
The initial phase involves intense physical activity.
This phase is not emotionally loaded, initially, just
tiring. Gradually, more and more unlikely activities
are performed, breaking down interpersonal
barriers and self-consciousness. The middle phase
is intended to provoke introspection. Students found
a wide variety of objects, though they did not have to
discuss the objects in any more detail than miming
how one would manipulate them. The third phase is
less intimate, providing closure to the experience.
The results of this exercise were as anticipated:
students were tired, but exalted. They were in
wonder at what they had discovered in the cave, and
many felt great sadness that they had to return what
they found to its place and leave it behind.
This took one class period.
3.3.3 Prep for the final
The original plan had been to have the students
generate their own larps for a mid-term grade, run
one of those larps, and then have the entire class
generate and run the final game.
The class focus on learning to play and on
experiences of play prevented the presentation of
material on character development. We could not
ethically evaluate students on material we had not
presented and work that is not graded is never done.
A Shifting Forest or Jeep-scale larp is too large
a writing assignment for an undergraduate class.
UMBC has a screenwriting class that does nothing
but produce scripts; a 20-page document is long for
that class. With the mid-term writing gone, in-class
generation of the final game was no longer a good
idea.
We intended that a long-duration, immersion
larp would become the final project, including
an overnight stay somewhere. Unfortunately, the
weekend set aside, that of May 5th, coincides with the
beginning of camping season. All the campgrounds
were booked! With little budget and no script, we
curtailed the planned overnight activity and simply
ran a day-long larp.
Alan and Neal met and hacked together a script
from what they had. They modified Perilous Journey,
adding game elements to compensate for the
participants’ lack of devotion to getting into character.
3.3.4 The game we designed: Spirit Walkers
We imagined Spirit Walkers as an inverted
metaphor of a spiritual experience. We would return
to the forest setting. We would use the forest path as
a metaphor; the forest path would be a dream scene,
with the characters visiting it throughout their lives.
The players would walk about three miles, using
events along the path as metaphorical input for their
character’s lives. Players’ real bodies would become
their characters’ spiritual bodies; the real lives of
the characters would occur on a different plane of
existence.
The characters would have life challenges. We
would represent these challenges in-game as rocks
that the players would carry—real, heavy, muddy
rocks. The characters would also have hopes and
joys; these would be represented by water in paper
cups. This page was borrowed from Shipwreck;
exhaustion defeats emotional distance.
The characters would walk the path twice: down
and back. Four judges would be strewn along the
path; they would hear the player’s stories, add or
remove burdens, and fill or dash hopes.
Players would define a life’s goal for their
character. The judge at the path’s end—the halfway
point—would evaluate whether the character had
achieved it or not, and award a prize if they had
(again, a piece of fruit). Whether the prize was
awarded or not, the path was only half-traveled: a
midlife crisis! On the trip back, there are only two
judges, and the last judge throws both rocks and
water into a still pond, ending each character’s game
with a metaphorical death.
134
This was the mechanic into which we had to plug
the characters. The class collaborated to choose a
common setting (Victorian England) and to devise
characters that had interconnected stories.
We used the Shifting Forest librettos as
examples of how to interconnect characters and
devise situations sure to produce conflict. Players
were broken up into teams of four to six, and had
to produce charts showing how characters had
goals that would produce a balance of alliances and
conflicts.
Keeping groups together was a concern; the
game could easily turn into a second round of
isolated strolling and daydreaming in the forest.
The burdens were intended to be unmanageable
by one player, making cooperation more likely and
penalizing lone wolves.
3.3.5 The final game
Students were tasked with recruiting outside
participants. Nine enrolled class members recruited
5 people; we should have made recruitment a grade.
Preparation sessions held at night the week before
were attended by 4 of the 14 players; character
preparation for the new players mostly happened onsite in the half-hour minutes before the game.
Starting the game took 45 minutes; all the players
had to tell their stories. Having to repeat the stories to
all the judges punished those who were not coming
up with new stories.
The rocks quickly reduced the emotional distance
of the players. The day was warm and wet and the
rocks made everyone filthy. The water took on extra
significance as the cups disintegrated—it got muddy,
or stayed clean enough to drink, or slowly leaked
away. Hikers get thirsty; we gave out gallons of hope.
The final judge met each player, alone, next to a
quiet pond in the forest. The end of each story was
told, and hopes and burdens were taken away.
The group experienced euphoria at the end:
a combination of fatigue, achievement, and aftertest relief. The class met once more to discuss the
experience and fill out the standard Visual Arts
course evaluations. Students talked mostly about their
characters and events along the trail.
4. Postmortem
offer. That was the primary goal and we achieved
it. We read and discussed material that described a
wide variety of larp experiences.
Several animation students became much more
comfortable with their bodies, becoming able to
depict a range of movement styles other than their
own. Sexual issues were discussed with mature
frankness; though we worried about this factor more
than anything else, sexuality was absolutely not an
issue. Sexual roles and situations were depicted and
manipulated in a rational, controlled, nonjudgmental
manner.
We realized before mid-terms that we would have
to drop the class goal of teaching how to generate
larps and that the focus of the class would simply be
learning competent enactment.
Student course evaluations were quite positive.
They appreciated Dr. Kreizenbeck’s confident
expertise. Prof. McDonald’s willingness to lead
participation and chew scenery was reassuring. (He
broke a toe kicking chairs during The Upgrade).
4.2 What went wrong
Most of what went wrong with the class is directly
attributable to how it was put together at the last
minute. Source material could not be evaluated
thoroughly; key concepts were simply missed,
though such issues are common in first runs of a class.
Enrollment was not what it could have been.
A great deal of the class was devoted simply
to getting introverts to buy-in. It is often observed
that one person can ruin a larp for a whole group;
we had three of those people. We could not get rid
of them without cancelling the class and delaying
graduation— for some students, indefinitely. This
year, the university has offered many more specialtopics classes; introverts will either participate or
flunk. Also, we have done a better job of integration
with the Theatre schedule; having seasoned actors in
the mix will raise expectations.
The final project was a shadow of what it could
have been. We did not reach out to the East Coast
larp communities. We did not reach out to the
Baltimore-area theater community.
4.3 What was, unfortunately, omitted
4.3.1 Boffering
4.1 What went right
We ran several larps fluently enough for
everyone involved to at least see what the form can
Our students did not build weapons out of foam
rubber and beat each other with them. “Artistic
integrity” debates aside, early in the semester, when
all of our non-actors were so sensitive to emotional
135
exposure, stage fighting would have offered a
useful combination of physical action and emotional
distance.
4.3.2 Pre-game exercises
Many larps use social/online media to involve
players in offsite, pre-game character development.
The importance of these activities did not become
apparent to us until a few weeks before class was
over—too late to incorporate into the class. This cost
us a real opportunity to get students to bond with
their characters and cost the students many creative
opportunities. Online activities could have been
easily added.
Character-building exercises are less welldocumented than games proper. “Ars Amandi”
exercises, for example, involve touching that would
have been totally inappropriate in our context, but
“Ars Ordo” involves shouting and staring, which
would have been fine (Nordgren, 97).
4.3.3 Post-game evaluations
Larping was a strange experience for most of
the class, and attempts to have the students critique
the experiences were met with uncomfortable
silences. Evaluation worksheets could have provided
structured questions and lowered the social cost of
offering tentative or untested opinions.
4.3.4 Better sets, props, and costumes
After attending the New England Larp
Conference 2012 (NELCO), we were struck by the
weight given to costume design. Cosplay is larp
without the role-playing, and is fairly common; at
UMBC, students attending classes in costume is not
uncommon.
The class did not have access to a space in which
we could leave sets and props for more than a few
days at a time—not even storage space!
UMBC’s Department of Visual Arts is totally
unprepared to teach, support, or evaluate costumes;
Theater maintains this expertise. This could provide
another collaboration opportunity, with two classes
running in a synchronized way, the costumers
visiting the class and suiting people up. This class
project could become feasible for students in
costume design courses.
4.3.5 Improved contextualization
Course reading material was drawn from larp
publications. While multiple essays by larpers draw
links to other artistic practices, the course would
have benefitted from readings taken more directly
from those practices, such as Schechner’s book
of performance studies or Bourriaud’s Relational
Aesthetics.
No matter how intensive our course preparation
was, it would only scratch the surface of the thirty
years of worldwide experimentation and creativity in
the larp community. Twenty years from now, we will
still feel like beginners.
4.3.6 Looking forward
As Dr. Kreizenbeck has other teaching
commitments, Prof. McDonald will teach the class
again alone in the Spring. The course is fully
integrated with the Theatre Department’s schedule;
this year, there will be actors in the class! We hope
that Alan’s schedule will be more flexible in the
future or that other theatre instructors will become
interested in the form.
5. Conclusion
When one teaches a class for the first time,
expectations are always confounded. Getting
students to larp was much more difficult than
we anticipated, forcing players to overcome
emotional inhibitions before difficulties with acting,
improvisation, or implementing game mechanics
could arise. We underestimated the difficulty of
generating games, but performance issues had
consumed the class before we could even address
game writing. The first semester of larp is the
teaching of acting.
136
Works Cited
Aarseth, Espen. Cybertext: Perspectives on Ergodic Literature.
Baltimore, MD: The Johns Hopkins University Press,
1997. Print.
Balsera, Leonard, et al. Spirit of the Century. Evil Hat
Productions. 2003. Web/PDF. 13 Dec. 2012.
http://www.evilhat.com/store/index.php?main_
page=product_info&cPath=65_67&products_id=191.
Bøckman, Petter. “The Three Way Model: Revision of the
Threefold Model.” When Larp Grows Up—Theory
and Methods in Larp. Ed. Morten Gade, Line
Thorup, Mikkel Sander. Frederiksberg, Denmark:
Projektgruppen KP03, 2003. 12-16. Web. 8 Dec. 2012.
http://www.liveforum.dk/kp03_book/classics/three_
way_model.pdf.
“Knutepunkt.” Wikipedia. N.d. Web. 13 Dec. 2012.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Knutepunkt.
Koljonen, Johanna. “The Dragon Was the Least of It:
Dragonbane and Larp as Ephemera and Ruin.”
Playground Worlds: Creating and Evaluating
Experiences of Role-Playing Games. Ed. Markus
Montola and Jaakko Stenros. Helsinki, Finland:
Ropecon ry, 2008. 33-52. Web. 8 Dec. 2012.
http://2008.solmukohta.org/pub/Playground_
Worlds_2008.pdf.
Leep, Jeanne. Theatrical Improvisation. New York, NY:
Palgrave MacMillan, 2008.
“List of Games from Whose Line Is It Anyway?” Wikipedia.
N.d. Web. 13 Dec. 2012. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/
List_of_games_from_Whose_Line_Is_It_Anyway%3F.
Bogost, Ian. Persuasive Games. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press,
2005. Print.
Majcher, Marc. Game Poems. Majcher, Marc. Game Poems.
N.d. Web. 13 Dec. 2012
http://gamepoems.gizmet.com.
Bourriaud, Nicolas. Relational Aesthetics. Paris: Les Presses
Du Reel, 2006. Print.
McDonald, Neal. Art 488 Home Page & Syllabus.
http://userpages.umbc.edu/~mcdo/488L/index.html.
Chang, Ed. CHID496D: Heroes & Monsters: Understanding
Live-Action Role-Playing Games, Spring 2012. University
of Washington. 2012. Web. 8 Dec. 2012.
http://staff.washington.edu/changed/496d/.
McDonald, Neal and Alan Kriezenbeck. “Teaching Larp.”
New England LARP Convention 2012. Radisson Hotel
Chekov, Michael. On the Technique of Acting. New York:
HarperCollins, 1991. Print.
Condon, Brody. “In the Studio with Brody Condon with Faye
Hirsch-Bowman.” Art in America 8 (October 2010): 110117.
and Suites, Chelmsford, MA: 21 July 2012.
New England Interactive Literature. Intercon J Web Site. 2010.
Web. 13 Dec. 2012. http://www.interactiveliterature.
org/J/Schedule.php?action=23.
Crowley, Ed, et al. All Saint’s Eve. Menlo Park, California:
Shifting Forest Storyworks.
http://www.shiftingforest.com.
Nordgren, Andie. “High-Resolution Larping: Enabling
Subtlety at Totem and Beyond.” Playground Worlds:
Creating and Evaluating Experiences of Role-Playing
Games. Ed. Markus Montola and Jaakko Stenros.
Helsinki, Finland: Ropecon ry, 2008. 91-101. Web.
8 Dec. 2012. http://2008.solmukohta.org/pub/
Playground_Worlds_2008.pdf
Fine, Gary Alan. Shared Fantasy: Role-Playing Games as
Social Worlds. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press,
2002. Print.
Norwegian Style: Norwegian Role-playing Games in English.
N.d. Web. 13 Dec. 2012.
http://norwegianstyle.wordpress.com.
Grotowski, Jerzy. Towards a Poor Theatre. New York:
Routledge, 1968. Print.
Ostergaard, Frederik Berg, and Tobias Wrigstad. Previous
Occupants. 2010. Web. 13 Dec. 2012.
http://jeepen.org/games/previous.
Harviainen, J. Tuomas. Prayers on a Porcelain Altar
(Demythologized Version), v. 4.0. 2007. Web. 13 Dec.
2012. http://pommesgabel.com/prayers/.
Jonsson, Ollie, Thorbiörn Fritzon, and Tobias Wrigstad. The
Upgrade. 2006. Web. 13 Dec. 2012.
http://jeepen.org/games/upgrade/.
137
Raine, Koskimaa, Frans Mäyrä, and Jaakko Suominen,
eds. Proceedings of DiGRA Nordic 2012 Conference:
Local and Global – Games in Culture and Society. June
2012. Tampere, Finland: University of Tampere. Web.
13 Dec. 2012. http://www.digra.org/dl/order_by_
author?publication=Proceedings%20of%202012%20
DiGRA%20Nordic.
Schechner, Richard. Performance Studies: An Introduction.
New York: Routledge, 2006. Print.
Neal McDonald is an Assistant Professor of
Visual Arts at the University of Maryland, Baltimore
County. His specialty is game development and the
history of games. He has seven apps on the Apple App
Store. His new-media and computer-animated works
have been shown all over the world, including at
SIGGRAPH 1995, ISEA 2012, the Corcoran Gallery, and
the Wexner Center for the Arts.
Email contact: mcdo@umbc.edu
Portfolio site: http://www.workly.com
Shifting Forest: Creative Interactive Live Gaming. 2012. Web.
13 Dec. 2012. http://www.shiftingforest.com
Stanislavski, Constantin. Building a Character. New York:
Routledge, 1994. Print.
Stenros, Jaakko, and Markus Montola. “Introduction.”
Nordic Larp. Ed. Jaakko Stenros and Markus Montola.
Stockholm, Sweden: Fëa Livia, 2010. 10-11.
Walton, Jonathan. Game Chef. 2012. Web. 13 Dec. 2012.
http://gamechef.wordpress.com.
“Whose Line Is It Anyway?” Wikipedia. N.d. Web. 13 Dec.
2012. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whose_line_is_it_
anyway.
Alan Kreizenbeck is an Associate Professor
of Theatre at the University of Maryland, Baltimore
County. He is primarily an acting teacher and theatre
scholar. He has directed productions for university and
professional theatres. Dissatisfaction with the limitations
of both the process and performance practices of
conventional theatre has led him to explore alternative
methods for both: a Shakespearian play done with
children’s toys, a French classic done with multiple
sets and casts performing simultaneously, and creating
original plays with children and the developmentally
disabled. The course described is his first foray into
larp, but certainly not his last.
Email contact: kreizenb@umbc.edu