5.9 Configuración de las entradas auxiliares del receptor y la salida de servos
5.10.4 Programación del interruptor opcional de Submodo… 52
5.11.1.3 Ajustes de ganancia para el vuelo inicial
Last on the list of methods of authorial theft is the NPC Theater. Again, there is some level of overlap with the previous examples—in this case both Railroading and the GMPC. NPC Theater occurs when the players are forced to stand around watching the GM enact what amounts to a one-man play or a cutscene. The PCs are simply left to kick back, relax, and wait for the NPCs to make all of the important decisions for them. To the extent that there is any player involvement, it’s typically on the level of selecting between “Yes, I understand” and “Could you repeat that?”
There are three main chains of logic that lead a GM to employ the NPC Theater. The first is simply not understanding how to properly script an adventure. This can often be a problem for inexperienced GMs, especially if they’ve written in other mediums before. Understanding how to present the story to the players in a way that’s interactive and doesn’t just force the story down their throats takes time and practice.
The second thought process that leads towards NPC Theater actually comes from the best of intentions. Many GMs reach a point in their evolution where they realize that the campaign world should be a living, breathing place, where things happen regardless of what—if anything— the players do. In reality, the universe does not revolve around a hand full of people. The GM tries to reflect this in the game, resulting in a world where the PCs are simply faces in a crowd, edged out by all of the really important NPCs out there.
While this is true to how the real world works, an RPG campaign isn’t the real world; it’s a story, and stories revolve around their protagonists. While this doesn’t mean that the PCs should be the most powerful people in every room they enter, they should always be the most important. This is half a conceit of the game—because it’sboring to sit around watching the GM have a conversation with themself—and half a conceit of the story. Because while reality might be entirely arbitrary, arbitrariness makes for bad stories.
The third and final path to NPC Theater is a case of the GM simply being more interested intheir characters and their story than anything the other players could contribute. I’m going to speak clearly and unambiguously here, because this is important: This is just plain bad GMing. An RPG campaign is a collaboration amongall of the players, not just the GM telling their story and everybody else nodding along and occasionally rolling a die or two. If you want to write a novel, write a damn novel; don’t inflict your novel on your friends by making them sit through you narrating it to them.
Assembling the Pieces
These four examples are some of the more common ways in which the GM can rob the players of both agency and authority. But whatever form it may take—and the examples I’ve given are not the only ones—any authorial theft by the GM is always rooted in at least one of three causes: Overshadowing NPCs, Lack of Meaningful Choices, and Lack of Meaningful Goals. Any time the players encounter these obstacles, it drags the entire game down, making things less fun for everyone involved.
To prevent this from happening, there are three simple rules to keep in mind, both in crafting your adventures and when you are at the table:
1. The Players are Powerful. This doesn’t mean they need to be impossible badasses or the most powerful people in the world. However, consider the three strongest NPCs in the D&D campaign setting Eberron: Oalian, an 18th level druid tree that can’t move, Tira Moran, the 18th level cleric that loses 15 levels if she leaves her hometown, and the Undying Court, a bunch of high level undead elves that can’t leave their home island. Notice a pattern there?
They’re all stuck in one place, and thus need other people to go do thingsfor them, and that’s where the PCs come in. The PCs are there because there’s a job that needs doing, and they are strong enough, smart enough, and crazy enough to get it done. They don’t need Elminster or Superman tagging along doing everything for them.
2. The Players Make Choices that Matter. The players should always feel like their decisions matter. As a GM, you need to be flexible enough to go with the flow. If the PCs kill your primary villain twenty game sessions sooner than you expected and have thus wrecked your story, that’s too damn bad. Deal with it. An RPG is not a novel, and you are not in absolute control here. This is a collaboration among everyone involved, and if you are constantly undercutting the player’s actions, they will not have fun.
3. The Players are the Stars of the Show. This goes hand in hand with making important choices. The PC’s accomplishments need to matter. A perfect example of this is the Lord of the Rings. NPC-Frodo and NPC-Sam may have been the ones with the Ring who ultimately saved the world, but PC-Aragorn and company mobilized Rohan, saved
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Gondor, and killed the Wraith-Lord, drawing the eye of Sauron away from the hobbits at a critical moment. Their actions had meaning and consequences within the scope of their story. In the same way, even if the players are peons in the grand scheme of the campaign, they are the stars of their adventures. Churchill and Patton might be the movers and shakers in WWII, but your group of PC jarheads can still be the heroes of D-Day.
A game should ultimately be a collaboration between the GM and players. The best solution is to make the game as player-driven as your group feels comfortable with. The more the players contribute, the most invested in the game they will be, and the more fun they will have.
If you find your game is a constant struggle between your players and your plot, it may be time to sit down and have a discussion about what each person’s goals and expectations are with the game.