by Rob Shankly
Recently a player character in my Call of Cthulhu game tortured an animal to death. The PC is a reasonably gentle, caring scientist, while the animal was a helpless lab rat. The character had valid reasons for what was done. I had presented a situation where it was reasonable to presume that the manner of dying would alter the post mortem results. I was impressed by the depth of characterisation displayed by the player, who would never in life behave in such a manner. It was very good roleplaying of a character facing a very stressful situation. But it raises questions.
The best, most memorable roleplaying occurs when there is a high degree of vermisilitude within the story, characters and mood of the players. If the characters are in tune with the environment presented by the gamemaster, and that environment is internally consistant, then it becomes possible for a player to become deeply attuned to the experiences of the character. They become attached. When players are asked to review their "favorite" characters, they are more than likely to nominate those developed in games with a high degree of consistency. This realism is the thread that connects us to our characters and allows vicarious adventures. It is the medium that allows fictitious roleplaying to touch us, and raises roleplaying to something of an art, more than a diversion or intellectual exercise. The powerful intellectual and emotional impact of interactive storytelling can be highly captivating. Drawn by this intellectual challenge we are apt to become immotionally involved as well.
Roleplaying can thrill us, leave us excited, eager for more: and it can scare us, leave us depressed, and horrify. Which begs the question; Can it cause pain?.
Many of us have experienced situations where strong negative reactions have been provoked by an incident, scene or topic in a roleplaying game. Sometimes this is due to a player feeling thwarted in their intentions for their character, and has an element of sour grapes. But quite frequently these bad reactions are due to the referee creating a game situation that is untenable for the player. In my opinion these sort of stressful occurances are more likely either with very new referees (who go too far without realising it, because they do not understand the signs of distress from their players) or with very good, experienced gamemasters, who create extremely believable worlds in which players become immersed.
We should be careful not to dismiss these occurances. It is frequently easier to assume immaturity on the part of one or more of the participants, or to blame lack of judgement. But if we do not pay attention when these dangerous situations occur then we are not showing due care for one another, and run a real risk of losing important communication between the referee and players. If nothing else, we doom ourselves to repeating the mistake.
It is impossible to screen the participants in a scenario too finely. It is an important step in the right direction when tournament writers assess their creation for its suitability for various age groups, and append various warning descriptors (never has cathartic had quite so dark a meaning as in a convention blurb). But a problem arises when we remember the possibility for players to be upset by seemingly innocuous events- a player who has had a narrow escape from a burning house may be upset by descriptions of a bushfire, for instance. The range of potentially stressful themes is too wide for a scheme based on restricted access to be guarranteed to be safe. There is also the question of self-imposed censorship, and whether roleplaying needs the burden of restricted storytelling.
Alternatively, we can all compile lists of topics more-or-less likely to cause offence, and avoid them: sexual interactions, religious issues, death, illness, racism, violence, confinement, exploitation and others are all highly charged. Some players will be upset by triggers which on the face of it are less obviously going to cause trauma, however, so it is impractical and fruitless to try and shut out all the potentially troubling issues. In addition, if referees start to observe a list of taboo topics, they run a very real danger of destroying the essential vermisilitude that is sought after for memorable roleplaying: as Smith says in the Matrix, humans seem unable to accept a reality where everyone lives happily, free of risk. If our characters find themselves in Ankh Morpork's Shades, unarmed, wealthy and unthreatened then there is something wrong somewhere.
Short of abandoning the hobby altogether there is no way to make roleplaying both safe and interesting. Given that roleplaying can sometimes produce intellectual and emotional states that are painful to the participants, what should be done to decrease this risk?
I believe that the most important step is to be consciously aware of any potential problems, and have some story-based means of averting or tempering extreme player reactions. It is important to moderate the threatening or stressful elements introduced into a game, with alternatives kept in mind in case of need: where a player unexpectedly cannot cope with a snarling guard-dog, quickly replace it with a snarling nightwatchman, for instance.
Second, it is necessary to increase and facilitate communication between players and the game master. This may sound a bit mad, given the enthusiasm roleplayers have for the sound of their own voices, but it requires little insight to realise that a player who is stressed by unfolding game events may be much less able than normal to make their discomfort known.
Finally, neither of these suggestions will have any utility at all if the gamemaster does not make a habit of observing the players reactions to the unfolding stor. Fortunately, observing players is the most important thing a storyteller does during a session anyway, since it is by gauging their enjoyment and level of participation that the referee dtermines how to focus and structure the narrative.
It is sensible, obviously, to appraise an intended story for internal consistancy, vermisilitude within the wider milieu, and its position within a larger arc of stories (if applicable). This is why we have playtests prior to conventions. With this review in mind, the gamemaster will have a better idea of what, if any, research or background information must be prepared prior to commencement. Those referees who like that sort of thing will be able to prepare appropriate props, music or player handouts. If nothing else, it saves you from naming NPCs after items of snackfood sitting on the table in front of you...
Ideally, the review will encompass the potential effects of different story elements during composition, preparing fall-back options where there are obvious risks. In addition, the writer should appraise the story to see whether a potential stressor enhances the experience for players and gamemaster, or whether they are gratuitous. This does not mean that all potentially scary, traumatic or horrific descriptions must advance the plot; far from it. But if a story event has a clear danger of being upsetting then it should be assessed to see if the player's experience will be rich enough to justify the risk- an ethical decision should be taken on the basis of the likely reward gained by participants weighed against their potential discomfort. In this case gratuitous should be taken in the larger context of the game rather than in the narrower context of the story being told within the game. Those story events that do not pass muster should be culled.
This auditing process also has the advantage that the writer will be made aware of elements which might cause discomfort. Forewarned, the gamemaster can be extra vigilant at those points to ensure that no-one is unduly affected by the story. This guards against the storyteller becoming engrossed in the narrative at a point when it would be better storytelling to attend to the needs of players. If possible, try to determine how much you have invested in a particular story element: it is important that the storyteller be able to maintain objectivity when making decisions about "how far to go" while playing, otherwise there is a danger that you will press ahead with something "cool" when perhaps it should be altered or avoided altogether. I hasten to add that there is no need to suppose that a referee will have to routinely alter a story in mid-stream (they are writing pretty unusual stories if they do!). The storyteller should, however, stand ready to do so if necessary.
Experienced referees (OK, old referees) often assess their scenarios for decision points- places where the narrative can take radically different paths. Anyone who had to deal with me writing a scenario on huge sheets of graph paper knows that this is true. The most important reason for doing this is to avoid runaway plots that completely escape your intentions (aka barren deserts of smoking black glass), although this also saves you from writing a railroad story that only has one direction. Charting decision points is also a useful way of avoiding painful experiences for players: (1) it greatly simplifies the review process outlined above, (2) it gives the writer an opportunity to check that the mood intended is going to be created, (3) it facilitates emergency rerouting when it becomes apparent that a stressful story element needs to be truncated or missed, (4) it allows us to time the pacing of stressful incidents within the game, thus attenuating them if necessary.
I am not saying that all roleplaying scenarios should be set in some variant of the Star Trek universe, where real pain only comes to red-suited ensigns on Away Teams. Rather, be prepared with alternative penalties for "bad" decisions, so that if your first option causes a painful reaction then you have a second string to replace it. Thus if a player clearly will be upset by the death of a character, have the PC injured, perhaps scarred or maimed, maybe losing an NPC ally, dependant or colleague. The other advantage of this "backup" system is that if your planned option does not faze the player, and it is necessary for game balance that the player feel the effect of stuffing up, you can always unload the second option as well!
It is also important to give players an opportunity to regroup- an occasional lifeline or respite can be essential. The easiest way to achieve this is to simply move on to another player character and work with that player for a period, allowing a stressed player an opportunity to find an in-character way to avoid a story element that they find difficult to deal with. Alternatives include simple back door options that allow the PC to avoid confronting the stressor for a time: if the PCs ship is sinking into shark-infested waters, and a player cannot cope with the idea, allow his character to run up the mast for a time until the player can find a way to resolve the situation; such in-story lifelines can and should be designed into scenarios from the beginning. None of us (as far as I am aware) is a psychotherapist, so the time for resolving a player's inner demons is NOT while we are playing a pens-&-paper quest game.
During the game it is quite important to be aware of the feelings between players: personal animosities can become inflamed during roleplaying (I'm sure we have all experienced this at some point) and it is the storyteller's responsibility as much as anyone else to prevent harm being done. Given the frequency of in-character and out-of-character joking and critisism, this can be a challenge for everyone, but the referee is perhaps in the best position to observe and mitigate the situation. Therefore the gamemaster should take the lead in keeping things on an amicable footing. Clearly this has advantages: people play better when their energy is not wasted on bickering or skewed by unvoiced animosities, and it also means that your carefully planned story is presented in the most receptive environment. Finally, the easier the players get along with each other, the more likely you are to pick up signs that a story element is causing someone distress, and the greater the chance that they may simply have the courage to tell you.
If you know your players well then it is usually possible to spot when something is amiss: I make a habit of trying to determine what things (if any) will cause offense. In some cases this is so I know never go certain places, and in others it allows careful, consenting exploration. There is absolutely nothing wrong with having this conversation completely openly, so long as the players trust each other with the information.
With new players, or people you don't know (especially conventioneers) the referee has to be even more careful: the players don't know you and are much less likely to say when they are being badly affected. There are, however, some signs to look for. They are more likely to drop out of character, or show extreme reactions. Sometimes a distressed player will seem bored or become focussed on another activity (note-writing, re-reading of character sheets or rules are common). Rarely, but sometimes, you will hear negative things about yourself, the other players, or the scenario (people tend to stay polite- it's weird). You have screwed up big-time when you hear "Do your worst, I can cope". Players may pace around, search in bags, stare out windows or fiddle with dice. They might start speaking in an irregular, jerky fashion.
Of course, these signals can be hard to see (especially if you have too many players, or are tired, or overawed, as can easily happen at a convention). It is the sign of a good storyteller to ask if a player is OK. Really. If you don't want to be that direct, offer them a chance to pass for a moment, or reconsider their actions, and then come back to them after dealing with another player. If you are still worried, or continue to get bad signals from the player, it may well be time to start mitigating the stressor (the fire burns less fiercely etc) or arrange a transition to an alternative. In the rare event that you think someone is trying to be manipulative, ask them to leave.
If you are suddenly presented with an upset player there are a few obvious steps to take and actions to avoid. Don't criticise or belittle them, either in their presence or that of the other players. Offer privacy and assistance, if desired. Generally, don't ask questions about what distressed the player. Allow the player time to recover, and take that time to discuss events with the other players- remember not to criticise anyone, and accept responsibility for your part in the event. Certainly do not shift responsibility on to any players. It is a fine line to draw, but try to discuss the event in the story that caused distress, rather than the distress itself. Other players may be able to provide insight, and may wish to do so quite strongly, but it is unfair to allow intrusive discussion about the stressed player. Try very hard not to create a consensus story that mitigates your role in the player's distress: it is understandable to feel rotten when a player is pained by your story, but you make things worse for them if you and the other players present a united front and a group opinion when (if) they return.
It might be possible to resume with the player, and it might not. This kind of event is pretty rare indeed, so don't expect a "normal" course of events to be followed. I recommend discussing events briefly with the player, and only continuing if they are satisfied to do so. The group should establish a protocol for this continuation of the game, if it occurs, which should allow for the affected player's distress.
In closing, remember that the objective is recreation- roleplaying is about having fun. If you have a regular group then out of game debriefings and discussions can be a good thing for many reasons, not the least of which is the issue of painful roleplaying experiences. For instance, it is quite possible for a player to stick with a group or storyteller because most of the time they have a satisfying experience, yet occasionally they have an uncomfortable time. These debriefing sessions do not need to turn into gamemaster torture-tests, and it helps to be as secure and open to criticism as possible, but information from players about your style of presentation and writing can be extremely valuable. Don't be defensive. If they say the same thing about you each time, then it is time to assess what is going on. Alternatively, if the criticism varies, then you are probably doing alright (unless they throw stuff).
So what about the rat? As far as I can tell the player concerned is OK with the game, although I intend to talk about it. The others were shocked, thinking it out of character and unexpected from the player, and perhaps they feel a little disturbed by the event. I feel it was superb roleplaying (to explain why might spoil some of the story) and I intend to treat it as such. But I have no hesitation in saying that at the time I was quite disturbed by it.