Hello, Monkeys! I’m hoping you could provide a bit of advice about running Bedlam Hall.
I’m a newish GM, but I have read a frightening number of PbtA games. Anyway, we were suffering through Mathilda’s miserable birthday party when one of the PCs attempted to guide His Lordship’s direction to abandon the ritual altogether. Naturally, the player rolled a 12. In the spirit of giving the player the full benefit of her move, I declared that Aldicott went along with her suggestion. (There was some pretty sound logic behind it.) However, that was one Trouble gone right out the window. Would you have handled it differently? And, might you have any general advice regarding how Troubles advance and how they might be brought under control (if by means other than Guiding Their Direction)? I would be much obliged for any insights.
I remain your anxious customer,
Carrie U.
Our dearest Carrie –
Congratulations in joining the exciting world of being a gamemaster! We promise the experience will be rewarding and delightful as you slowly descend into a general pessimism about your fellow man. Personally, we tend to find that any number of PBTA games is rather frightening, especially due to the liberal use of the word “Apocalypse” involved.
- When enacting the Family, do keep in mind they have both the
patience and mindset of a small child addicted to inhaling glue vapors.
Not unlike trying to keep your cat off the stove, it is perfectly
reasonable to believe you can scold the cat to not hop
on the stove. For a time. However, they will continue to linger in the
kitchen. Just to see what you’re doing. And they *could* jump up. They
choose not to. But they could. But they’re just going to sit there for a
while. Passing the time. Inspecting their
fur. Then all of a sudden, a magical discovery! There is a stove there!
Perfect for use as a cat parapet…and promptly the fire brigade is
required. The point of course is although the player was able to
convince His Lordship to abandon the ritual at that
time, his interest is still going to remain and he may return to it
being a mild fancy to learn more about it for strictly educational
purposes, until he finds a safer way to do it. Probably wearing his
cricket padding.
- If you feel the Trouble has truly been resolved, the delightful thing about Troubles is they tend to travel in groups. Like birds. Or roaches. Angry, conniving roaches. Although Aldicott’s Trouble may be resolved for a particular session, the next session he may have decided to pick up indoor archery again or decided that not only is the player correct in their assumptions that the ritual is a bad idea, the book in question is also dangerous. And the library. And all written texts in the entire household. This of course addresses the Trouble, creates a new one and complicates things utterly – Lord Blackwood believes the entirety of the Library and all written books are to be burnt immediately. All thanks to the player’s success! Huzzah!
- Allow Lord Blackwood to take a backseat in the overall Fiction while other members of the household get their turn in the proverbial spotlight. There’s certainly enough madness in the rest of the Family to allow the players a small glimmer of pride and accomplishment, only to have you dash their feelings with abject cruelty of worse things occurring in the House. Do keep in mind, just because he’s no longer pursuing the ritual does not mean he won’t be any less overbearing, delusional and self-important. He may also complicate the Staff’s efforts by either providing unwanted advice, supervision of their duties or perhaps taking the Staff to task for not cleaning the chandelier immediately. The players may find themselves eager to have him return to the idea of a ritual just to get them out of the room.
- Pout. Your player thinks they’re so smart. Here you are, putting in all this effort to running a game while they sit there with that smug look on their face. You know. *That* one. So much smarter than both you and I, trying to provide light-hearted entertainment. They’re the type of people who get all haughty and reveal the final twists to a novel you’ve spent hours reading, self-satisfied about how clever they are. We don’t need this sort of treatment, do we. I think we should just not invite them to our next birthday party, whether or not a ritual is involved. And we’ll all have custard and presents. And they shan’t have any. Hmmph.
Perhaps that last suggestion was not entirely helpful, but we hope these other suggestions help you in the future. Feel free to ask any additional questions about Bedlam Hall or any of our products.
Ta,
Your friends at Monkeyfun