Role-playing games offer a nearly unrivaled level of
interactivity. Most forms of storytelling have their narratives unfold in rigid
paths that are observed by its audience. Even the most immersive video games
can only offer the player a small set of predetermined options. Meanwhile, the only
real limits in an RPG are set by the dungeon master, game master, or whatever
term the system in question uses. Even the boundaries established by the
system are only as restrictive as they are permitted to be by the group. However, the GM
isn’t some kind of messianic god even in their own game. At least, not in a fun game. Regardless of how meticulously
made their plans are, that narrative has to be enacted by the players first.
And the players will always have different ideas from the GM, regardless of
their preferred style of storytelling.
The whim of the dice can be quietly altered by a GM, if
they're subtle enough, but the whim of the players is much more resilient. If you
need them to be trapped in a building, they’ll hurl themselves out a window to
escape. Confront them with a jungle full of foes, they’ll try to burn it down.
Their general orders them to head to a fortress world, they’ll insist on
stopping by a nearby frontier world first. Many GMs first instinct is to
outright tell the player “no,” for the sake of their story.
More diplomatic ones might try to force them back onto the envisioned path, ending this unexpected plotline before it can begin. This is “railroading,” one of the most widely derided tactics in the RPG community. In some cases it might be necessary but it’s rarely enjoyable for either group. Besides the rejection of their ideas, the player might feel like their character has no real agency if it happens enough. It’s not fun for the game master either, as they start to put more effort into maintaining their vision than actually running the game.
More diplomatic ones might try to force them back onto the envisioned path, ending this unexpected plotline before it can begin. This is “railroading,” one of the most widely derided tactics in the RPG community. In some cases it might be necessary but it’s rarely enjoyable for either group. Besides the rejection of their ideas, the player might feel like their character has no real agency if it happens enough. It’s not fun for the game master either, as they start to put more effort into maintaining their vision than actually running the game.
I personally say the solution is to let the player go off
the rails, within reason. RPGs are an inherently collaborative medium, as the
players need to fulfill the GM's story as they see fit. Outside of very specific
systems, the game can’t fully function without the commitment of both parties. In
this way, railroading denies the core dynamic of roleplaying games. Some of my
best sessions were partially or completely unplanned due to the players’
decisions. It ended up going somewhere unexpected, and outside of drawing from
some unused ideas, they were largely improvised. While the narrative was
delayed, the outcomes more than made up for it. The players were satisfied, as they
were now on a path of their own choosing, which they saw as playing into the
main narrative in some way. Additionally, having something not directly related
to the main plot helped make the setting feel more fleshed out. It reminds the
players that there’s a world outside of their characters and adversaries.
These improvised sessions ended up informing future ones,
ensuring they weren’t just quickly forgotten tangents. The space left by a more
freeform plotline allowed for more character development, as it puts the players
in a situation outside of the routine. The same goes for the GM’s characters
and elements in the story. Without having a clear purpose like they usually do,
all these elements have a freedom to develop. This
sort of progress shouldn’t exclusively occur in unplanned segments but improvising can draw
attention to some overlooked potential a concept had. At the very least, it
will make its limitations more apparent, which in turn provides a clear way to
improve it. It also offers an opportunity to throw something new into the mix.
Everything else was a last minute introduction, so a new major addition won’t
feel quite as out of place as it might have in the main plot. Just because you
didn’t plan for it, doesn’t mean it can't add to what you had in mind.
There are some issues with taking this approach
that have to be acknowledged. Some of the players’ ideas might not be
worth engaging or are just plain unfeasible. You should still throw them a bone
but don’t let them break the rules of the setting or completely reject what you
had written. Additionally some game masters might have trouble with improvising
so much, especially if they need a story to go a certain way. I’d advise have
abstract plans to avoid this or at least make sure they leave room for such
digressions. But for those that can’t handle so much improvisation, entertain
the player’s digression while still brining the direction back towards what you
had planned. Additionally, some game masters might have trouble making the
player’s ideas compatible with their own. Taking this approach means figuring
out how to factor the main plot into it. Narratives where time is sensitive,
like an end of the world scenario, might just not have time for distractions.
Ultimately, the secret is finding the middle ground between the story you want
tell and the one the players want to be in. Try not to railroad and try not to
let yourself get railroaded.
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