Thanks for your responses, everyone. I wrote my last couple of replies pretty late, so I apologize if I came off whiny. For the record, I really love Fight! and I’m lamenting my (current) difficulty in using the mechanics to descriptively resolve as scene. As a GM, I think I excel in story and the depictions of the NPCs, whereas I sometimes have trouble with overall description. This mirrors my difficulties as a writer, appropriately enough.
Wait, wait. Maybe I’m not reading this right, but it seems like Leo is saying that he understands the rules but is having a hard time describing how they look in the game to his players.
Yes, this is really what it comes down to. I’m having trouble describing the why of the rules in a combat situation. I’m not very good at choreographing action on the fly, I think.
I’m sure you won’t be surprised when I tell you to start with the rules and stick to the rules. They provide a neutral arbiter, a framework for you all to build on. They’re a static reference point from which we build consensus!
In nearly every rule I create, I provide you with a framework built by numbers—advantages, penalties, and opportunities. It’s up to you to interpret this framework in a way that makes sense, in a way that’s evocative to your players.
So, the rule says you’re not engaged with an opponent thus you can’t attack him. A player howls, “BUT WHYYYYYY?”
“Because that’s what the rules say” is a poor response in any game. We all know it’s the answer. But sometimes we need a little more dressing on our salads.
This is the moment for you, the GM, to step up. Take a moment to imagine the scene. Who is where, what’s going? Now do a little scene math. If character A can’t attack NPC C, what is true? Well, something must be in the way, or he’s farther away than you thought, or you’re hard pressed at the moment and can’t get to him.
If a player then wants to change the dynamics of that scene, “BUTTT IIII WANNTTT TOOO ATTTACCKKK HIMMM,” the rules provide! But the opportunity comes at a certain juncture, not simply when we desire it. In this case, the opportunity to engage comes at the start of the next exchange.
And if a player has engaged at his disadvantage, he cannot simply whine his way out of the situation. He must weather this storm for the moment and do what he can at the next opportunity. And responsibility for making that medicine go down rests heavily on the shoulders of the GM. A player petulantly declares, “This is stupid. I would do the smart thing. All the time.” The GM nods and smiles and says, “Yes, at the beginning of the next exchange. Right now, you’re pinned down.” Or you’re out of reach of that other guy or you’re trouble and need to concentrate lest you be shot through the throat. Or something similar.
RPGs are wonderful because they are games of imagination, but they are imagined based on a framework of rules communicated verbally moment to moment by a group of players. Sometimes we need simply get back to our roots and slather on a lavish description full of problems, hurdles and hiccups. Something that everyone can really dwell on in that long moment. A description of why the rules are working the way they are can galvanize everyone and also help us understand the rules better.
Responses like this are why I love Burning Wheel. Thanks, Luke, and of course you’re right. It’s just something I need to work on as a GM, because it’s I’m very good at it yet. I love the insanity of Fight, especially how everything can turn on a dime. You’re pressing your advantage one second, pursuing somebody the next, and being throttled before you know it. That’s awesome. I just really, really need to school myself on how to translate the mechanics into a visceral experience for the players so they feel the blood and sweat and exertion of battle, which is what I believe Fight is capable of. I’m pretty proficient at making them feel for the NPC’s and their story (I’ve made a few players cry at an NPC’s death, heh heh heh), but this a different skill set.