Organized Play, Universal Rules, and Frustrations of a Traveling Gamer

Regular readers know that, before the pandemic at least, I was a fairly regular LARPer. In fact, a majority of the World/Chronicles of Darkness games I've been a part of have been LARPs, rather than sitting around a table rolling pools of d10s. And while one or two of those games have been independent, most of them were (or at least claimed to be) part of an organization.

Not all organizations are created equal, though. Which is why I'd like to talk about something that seems to crop up time and time again, and it's a massive frustration that I'd highly recommend folks do away with entirely in the future. Because if you're going to claim you're all playing the same game, you need to actually be playing under the same rules and canon.

This isn't "A Tale of Two Cities" RPG edition.

Before we get into the meat of it, make sure you sign up for my weekly newsletter if you don't want to miss any of my new releases and upcoming content! Also, if you're a fan of the World of Darkness in general, consider checking out my 100 Kinfolk supplement bundle for Werewolf: The Apocalypse (with 100 Stargazer Kinfolk as an extra), as well as my fresh-off-the-presses supplement New World Nights: 100 Ghouls For The American Camarilla.

And now, on with this week's tale!

How Organized Play is Supposed To Work

For those who've never come across organized play for a LARP before, the concept is actually pretty neat. The way it's supposed to work is that all the games being run by the organization are part of the same overarching chronicle, and the events that happen in one location can affect events happening across the board. Not only that, but players can take their characters on the road, showing up at sister games and bringing their characters to meet new folks, engage in away plots, etc.

It has the result of making a chronicle actually feel big, rather than just being told it's big even if the plot ends at the boundaries of your venue.

No condensed world for me, thank you!

For games to work on this scale, though, it's important to have a universal standard when it comes to the rules that are in place, and to make sure that communication is happening to prevent glitches in stories.

And, for all of the things I didn't like about it, Mind's Eye Society (formerly known as the Camarilla, I believe) managed this aspect pretty well.

For example, they put forth a list of official organization modifications and house rules for players in all venues to follow, and storytellers had to adhere to these rules. This prevented different venues from running drastically different versions of merits or supernatural powers, or having one venue that completely barred certain abilities that were allowed in a neighboring game. If a particular power or ability was considered rare or unusual then a player could file a request for it, and if the request was granted it would be attached to the character sheet and honored at every venue. Even if the ST of a particular game didn't like that your character had access to a rare Discipline, or they possessed a merit that was usually restricted, if you put in the effort to get it approved, then you could use it in play. And if STs were abusing their authority there was someone over their heads a player could reach out to in order to file a complaint. While there's plenty of folks who've pointed out this option wasn't always effective, the fact that it existed is still something I considered a positive aspect.

Additionally, the use of canon resources was tracked to make sure that the games had a unified feel to them. As an example, if a storyteller wanted to bring an important, named NPC to their venue for a particular game, they had to notify the organization and get it approved. Not because the character was so special it could only be allowed out of the toolbox once an ST proved they were responsible; rather, it was to make sure you didn't have the same character in half a dozen games at the same time, screwing up the canon. Similar notifications would need to be submitted for effects that could affect other venues, as well as national or global plots. It kept everyone on the same page, and ensured the world fit together properly.

In short, your game was not allowed to be an island. If you were part of an organization then (at least in theory) you were agreeing to be part of a greater whole. You could still run your own plots, create your own NPCs, and do things your own way, but there were limits imposed on the amount of discretion you had if it went outside of certain bounds.

What I found out as I sought out other games is that there are a lot of storytellers who use the phrase "organized play" to describe their games, but who don't seem to realize it doesn't mean what they think it means.

You Can't Have Your Cake and Eat It, Too

When I stopped attending Mind's Eye Society games (drive was too long, wasn't feeling the current chronicle, attendance was down, etc.) I started seeking out other games to fill the void. I tried Werewolf, I tried Vampire, and I even managed to find a Changeling game or two. Nearly every game I attended lured me in with the promise that, though they were part of a smaller organization of games, they were definitely an organization. So my vampire, my werewolf, my changeling would always have at least two or three sister games they could go to, giving me access to a variety of weekend games whenever I had the time and desire to attend.

It was exciting... until I realized that my definition of organized play was wildly different from the one a lot of these storytellers were operating under.

What? No, that's not how that works here. I don't care what Geoff does in his game.

What many of these smaller gaming groups meant when they said they supported organized play was, "We have a loose canon with the other games, and we agree to allow players to travel and bring their characters so we can all play together." The aspect they didn't mention, though, was there was no universal, agreed-upon set of rules we were all using. And worse, every ST ran their game their own way.

It was exhausting to keep track of. In one venue certain vampire Disciplines worked one way, but in a sister venue they worked a different way. In a third venue only one or two powers from an entire Discipline were allowed, even if you had dots for the others. One venue had expanded social penalties for werewolves who used firearms, despite it not being canon to the game. Another venue ignored that entirely. One venue approved a custom made magic item for a changeling, and another one refused to allow it at all.

It was enough to make your head spin.

For some of my fellow players, this wasn't really an issue. Their characters were using the most common paths of progression, and they weren't really affected by too much by these changing paradigms. Other folks were frustrated by it, but they enjoyed the social aspects of the game enough to put up with the unique idiosyncrasies of the different venue storytellers and their staffs.

However, once it became clear that every storyteller basically wanted to have their own game run their own way, I was out. And nine times out of ten I felt like a canary in the coal mine, because the games almost always folded not long after I walked out the door.

Storytellers, This Isn't "Your" Game

If I had to address one lesson I learned throughout this journey, one central problem that I felt was foundational to all the other issues, it would be to remind storytellers out there that this isn't "their" game.

What I mean by that is every storyteller needs to remember that it is their job to create something for players to enjoy. However, too many times storytellers get their egos caught up in the process, or they insist their way is right, or better, or simply that no one else is going to tell them how to do things in their own game. Sometimes they just slap players' hands because the players want to solve plot in a way the storyteller doesn't like, or didn't expect. That's bad enough when it really is an independent venue, but if you're even putting out the pretense that you're part of an organized setup it can be downright toxic to player enjoyment and confidence.

If you tell your players their characters are part of an organization that allows them to play in multiple venues, then those venues need to all be running on the same rules and baseline assumptions. Otherwise it's like you're trying to watch different episodes of the same show, but the art style is completely different, the setting details change from one episode to the next, and none of the abilities they have in one season seem to apply in the other.

In short, what's meant to be a major selling point turns into a slurry of nonsense that can undermine trust. Because if you don't deliver on the promises you make to your players, that's going to make them trust you less and less as the game goes on. And if your players don't trust you, pretty soon you won't have any players at all.

What's Next on Table Talk?

That's it for this installment of Table Talk! What would you like to see next? Or do you have your own story you'd like to share with folks?

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