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canyonwalkerThere's a common pitfall in roleplaying games call assumptions clash. The game master (GM) and players arrive at a point in the story where they have sharply conflicting beliefs about what ought to happen next. It happens because they've based their expectations on assumptions that do not match.
The simplistic solution to assumptions clash is, "Communicate!" But brief or ineffective communication is sometimes worse than no communication. I thought about this today when Gnome Stew, a gaming blog I read, ran the article "Elements of Description". The author gave tips for describing scenes more effectively. I posted comments about how this relates to assumptions clash there, which I'll share (with some modification) here.
As a player and a GM I'm sensitive to simple descriptions of a scene that can wind up misleading others because they embed assumptions. For example, a memorable confusion occurred years ago at the gaming table when the GM described, "You're at the edge of a clearing in the middle of the forest. In the middle of the clearing is a log house. Smoke rises from a stone chimney."
Moments later the PCs were attacked by two ogres in the woods. They inferred, correctly, that the ogres lived in the house and were patrolling the area. They figured it was a fight they could handle. But then when in round 2 of the combat the GM described 30 more ogres running out of the house to join the fight, the players called a foul.
"How can 30 ogres fit in a log cabin?"
"I didn't say it was a cabin, I said it was a house."
"Okay, but you didn't say it was a huge house, like big enough for an entire tribe of ogres!"
The players made a near-fatal decision for their characters to fight the pair of ogres (rather than, say, run) because they didn't believe there could be 30 more ready to join the fight. There was an assumptions clash about what "house" meant. Clearly the GM should have given a clearer description: something like, "At the center of the clearing is a crudely made wooden house. It is large, at least 100 feet across, with a slanted roof rising 30 feet high at the center. Smoke wafts from a single, large chimney in the middle." The players then could've formed better expectations of the potential for a large number of enemies to emerge.
BTW, I was the GM in this story. 😳 I gave an overly brief description because I was busy juggling multiple mental tasks— describing the scene, looking up my notes, drawing a map, and answering player questions. I've made a practice since then of putting description keywords in my notes so I make sure I say things like, "A large, rambling house, over 200 feet wide," rather than just, "A house."
The players share responsibility for communication, too, BTW. No player at the table asked, "How big is this house?" When I'm a player I always try to ask for description like this, to ensure we're not head for an assumptions clash.
The simplistic solution to assumptions clash is, "Communicate!" But brief or ineffective communication is sometimes worse than no communication. I thought about this today when Gnome Stew, a gaming blog I read, ran the article "Elements of Description". The author gave tips for describing scenes more effectively. I posted comments about how this relates to assumptions clash there, which I'll share (with some modification) here.
As a player and a GM I'm sensitive to simple descriptions of a scene that can wind up misleading others because they embed assumptions. For example, a memorable confusion occurred years ago at the gaming table when the GM described, "You're at the edge of a clearing in the middle of the forest. In the middle of the clearing is a log house. Smoke rises from a stone chimney."
Moments later the PCs were attacked by two ogres in the woods. They inferred, correctly, that the ogres lived in the house and were patrolling the area. They figured it was a fight they could handle. But then when in round 2 of the combat the GM described 30 more ogres running out of the house to join the fight, the players called a foul.
"How can 30 ogres fit in a log cabin?"
"I didn't say it was a cabin, I said it was a house."
"Okay, but you didn't say it was a huge house, like big enough for an entire tribe of ogres!"
The players made a near-fatal decision for their characters to fight the pair of ogres (rather than, say, run) because they didn't believe there could be 30 more ready to join the fight. There was an assumptions clash about what "house" meant. Clearly the GM should have given a clearer description: something like, "At the center of the clearing is a crudely made wooden house. It is large, at least 100 feet across, with a slanted roof rising 30 feet high at the center. Smoke wafts from a single, large chimney in the middle." The players then could've formed better expectations of the potential for a large number of enemies to emerge.
BTW, I was the GM in this story. 😳 I gave an overly brief description because I was busy juggling multiple mental tasks— describing the scene, looking up my notes, drawing a map, and answering player questions. I've made a practice since then of putting description keywords in my notes so I make sure I say things like, "A large, rambling house, over 200 feet wide," rather than just, "A house."
The players share responsibility for communication, too, BTW. No player at the table asked, "How big is this house?" When I'm a player I always try to ask for description like this, to ensure we're not head for an assumptions clash.
