The First Rule of Improv Often Applies to RPGs

Improv theater, for those who've never seen stuff like Whose Line Is It Anyway?, is a kind of theater where actors get together, and start making stuff up off the cuff. Sometimes the actors are given a prompt from the audience, a general theme, or a prop they have to incorporate, but there's generally no script, and nothing is figured out in advance. In many ways it's similar to what happens around the table when we sit down with our sheets and our funny shaped dice. And there is a single rule that makes improv work, and which can help everything around the table move more smoothly.

Never say no.

With so many possibilities, don't walk around shutting doors.

"No" Kills Pace

If you watch improv, then you'll see that everything a performer adds to the scene is now canon. If one person declares it's Sunday in the scene, then it's Sunday in the scene. If someone says they're getting a call, then they're getting a call. And if someone asks how your character's trip to Montego Bay went, then you definitely took that trip (or, at least, you told them you were).

No matter how odd, unusual, or silly stuff gets, the only real ironclad rule of imrpov is that you don't say no. You can alter, modify, or mess with things as they currently exist in the scene, and you can invent new stuff, but at no point can you fold your arms and refuse to continue onward. Because to do that will completely destroy the suspension of disbelief that makes the improv work, and it brings the all-important flow to a screeching halt.

Often with disastrous results.

So, the next time you sit down, remind yourself that your game needs to go forward. And the only way for you (and the rest of the table) to go forward is by agreeing to participate in the scenario. If you ever find the phrase, "But my character wouldn't do that," rising to your lips, stop, and re-examine the scenario. Find a reason for your PC to participate.

Playing a selfish jerk who is thinking about refusing the request to do some pro-bono monster hunting to save an orphanage? Well, you may suddenly discover that this character has a soft spot for abandoned children, and he's willing to go to the mat for these kids so they don't have to face what he did when his parents were killed. Got yourself a hard case who thinks that going to the ball is a load of fru-fru bullshit? Ask if there's someone there he'd like to impress. Or, failing that, remind him that it's a party full of free food and alcohol. The sort of rich stuff only people with money can afford, as opposed to the hogwash down at the dive you've been hanging out in.

And so on, and so forth.

Your characters are under your control. Find a reason, and go forward. Otherwise it's like the DM pointed you at a door, and you refused to walk through it. Nothing is going to happen until you kick it open.

Also, beware The Dangers Of The Phrase "I'm Just Playing My Character".

The Other Side of This Coin

With that said, it's important to remember that player agency is still very much a thing at the table. Which is why it's best for a DM to describe and present, without taking actions on behalf of the players, as I laid out in Some Thoughts On Player Agency.

Put another way, if you're the DM, present the players with the door. Trust that they will walk through it on their own, without telling you, "No." Because they have to be given a choice, otherwise you're just telling a story at them, which isn't fun. Preserve the back-and-forth, and everyone will be happier for it.

That's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday update. Hopefully there are some folks out there who found it to be helpful. For folks who'd like to see more of my work, check out my Vocal archive (particularly my Gamers page), or stop by the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio where I help out from time to time. To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. Lastly, if you want to help support me and my work, then either become a patron over at The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page, or Buy Me A Ko-Fi! Either way, some sweet gaming swag will be yours as a thanks for your help.

The Dangers of The Phrase "I'm Just Playing My Character"

There are certain, inviolable rules at any gaming table. Critical hits from a player must be confirmed by an outside source, preferably the DM. All character sheets must be given the rubber stamp of approval before play begins. No player may dictate to any other player what actions they have to take or not take, and no character can force another to do anything barring the use of some form of mechanical compulsion.

The last example is most often shut down by the phrase, "I'm just playing my character."

Mic... dropped.

It doesn't matter what game you're playing, or what the situation is, this magical phrase instantly ends (most) discussion on the matter. However, are we too quick to hide behind this shield as a way to excuse our behavior, or to duck fully legitimate criticisms of the way we're making our characters act?

You Are The Man Behind The Curtain

The entire goal of roleplaying games is to create living, breathing characters whose stories you can tell. These characters might be refugees from magical realms spat back into reality as twisted reflections of their former selves, archmages who have mastered the arts of magic, or government agents who investigate the strange and unusual; no matter who or what they are, you're the one who created them, and you're the one who decides their actions.

Some character concepts are weirder than others.

So, let's use an example. Say you're playing a garden-variety cleric. You wear white robes, worship a god of light and life, and your magic is used to heal the wounded as well as turn back the undead. The party comes to a destroyed monastery with the goal of delving into its depths and slaying the necromancer who killed all of the brothers. Now, because they were members of his order, your cleric feels it is his duty to go and give the last rites to the brothers. The first time this happens, the dead rise and attack you. It happens the second, third, and fourth time, too. Despite this, your cleric doggedly insists that the party stop and provide the necessary rites to every single corpse you come across.

Yes this is detailed in a comic strip, and you can read it right here.

Now, your cleric has a choice to make at this point. He can stolidly demand that last rites be given to every body discovered, which will likely result in the party having to fight the entire monastery. This will put the cleric, as well as the party, in serious danger while wasting resources they could be using to accomplish their goal of killing the necromancer and destroying his grip on the region.

If at this point you, as the cleric, continue to insist on a harmful and wasteful course of action and you justify it with "I'm just playing my character," you're ignoring the fact that characters sometimes have to make decisions that are hard. Put another way, your beliefs or desires are shown to be reckless, and ill advised. For example, as a holy man ostensibly charged with protecting the living, wouldn't it make more sense to destroy the necromancer first, and then grant the bodies the proper burial rites after the threat has passed? After all, if the dead have waited this long, surely they'll be able to wait until you're no longer under fire, as it were?

All too often we point at our characters like they're someone we aren't in control of. We say, "look, that's what he'd do," as a way to justify actions which we know will have negative effects on the rest of the party. The point is, though, that as players we are in control of our characters. If you're stubbornly insisting on a course of action that you, as a player, know is bad then you may have motivations beyond remaining true to your character.

Either that, or you brought a knife to a gun fight.

Don't Bring A Monkey Wrench

Character conflicts happen. The paladin wants to accept an enemy's surrender, and the cynical rogue thinks the only safe course is to kill the guy holding the white flag. The halfling bard wants to share the party's food and drink with a wandering NPC, but the barbarian sees that as both a waste, and a weakness.

These things are going to happen. Ideally the characters will work out a solution through roleplay, and the players will be open-minded enough to seek an equitable answer. The problem is when one player answers any criticism of his or her character's actions with, "I'm just playing my character." Just as any man who must say I am the king is no true king, if you find yourself using this phrase too often to justify your actions you might want to take a step back and re-examine what character you're actually playing.

My character, my rules.

What you may have done, without even thinking about it, is brought a monkey wrench. For example, are you playing a paladin with a very narrow view of right and wrong in a party made up of renegades, rebels, and rogues? Did you bring a killer-for-hire to the table, and set them down in the middle of a bunch of servants of the god of life? Are you trying to take a bloodthirsty pillager into a game where you're actively attempting to stop a civil war from breaking out? In most of these situations the problem isn't that anyone is wrong, but it's that you're trying to put a square peg into a round hole.

If you realize that, it doesn't mean you have to play an entirely new character; simply let the one you have actually grow to reflect his or her experiences. Does the paladin learn that sometimes the spirit of the law is more important than the letter, allowing the knight to keep his vows without dotting every I and crossing every T? Does the assassin learn to appreciate the value of life, understanding that blood cannot be measured in gold? Does your marauder figure out that there are greater fortunes to be made with the signing of a treaty than the drawing of a sword, becoming a kind of bandit king through diplomacy and guile instead of through sheer brute force?

All of these are options, but if you insist on keeping the original character totally and completely unchanged regardless of what experiences that character has, then none of them will ever happen.

This is why it's a good idea to have an idea of what you want to play, and to get a feel for what you're going to have to work with, before you show up at the table. If you want to play Judge Dredd, then it's a good idea to make sure you don't have a bunch of people interested in peace, love, and harmony. Otherwise your party members are going to spend all of their time fighting each other, and none of it actually inconveniencing the villains.


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