Engagement Confusion

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. :wink:

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.

Leo,
I am deeply sympathetic. Trust me. One of the weaknesses of Burning Wheel is the convergence of the formal system and the ability to describe said system. The formal system produces great results all on its own, but it doesn’t make sense unless we can interpret it. A less complex system* could describe itself, but we lose the chaos. And the chaos is key. It creates those gut wrenching moments that make the exercise worth the effort.

But even though I know this—even though I design for this!—I struggle with it. Sometimes I’m tired, sometimes I’m forgetful, sometimes I’m too excited and I forget to breathe and take a step back and describe what the hell is happening.

So don’t beat yourself up. It sounds like you’re doing a fantastic job. If your players are jockeying with you over (fictional) positioning, they are invested in what’s going on. The trick is to merge their vision with yours. After that, you’re golden.

-L

*I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I think Rolemaster is a less complex system (in purely formal terms).

So how about we turn this thread around. Let’s use it to describe helpful cues when narrating the Fight mechanics.

“He’s between you and your friend.”

“He’s got you pinned down.”

“You’re out of position.”

“If you turn your attention away now, he’ll run you through before you can help your friend.”

etc. and so on.

It’s an easy hole to fall into. I’ve been playing BW off and on for 6 or 7 years and I still find myself slipping into bad habits of not narrating things clearly enough, especially in Fight or R&C. Too often it gets down to “my action is this”, “I scripted this”, “Okay roll”. Fleshing those actions out with narration really helps nail things down. And makes it more interesting of course.

Just wanted to point out that in the particular case of an archer, you can remind the player that the big obstacle penalty is only there until he releases his arrow. Then the bowman cedes the advantage and your player (assuming he didn’t get killed by the arrow) can do all manner of nasty stuff to him. He won’t waste the entire exchange. And since you script after you position, if you know you’re at the disadvantage to a bowman you can try to protect yourself for the first volleys and strike at the end after he’s given up advantage.

I wasn’t trying to be snarky above, well not snarky in a grrrr way. Gently snarky, but forum posts aren’t good for that sort of thing. I was serious, too. GM Fiat is when you say they are at a disadvantage because you think they should be. When the dice say they are at a disadvantage, it’s not GM Fiat to describe why in evocative detail. That’s just adding color to explain and depict the situation that the mechanics have determined exists.

Let everyone see that mechanically X is at a disadvantage and then say “Okay, as you step out from behind the wagon the area is pelted by arrows from the archers” or “Okay, like the fight has wheeled this way as the combatants dance a weave. Your guy is has to swing out wide in order to close of him, costing him time.” Or whatever makes sense given the fiction you’ve described already, the actions of the players and results of the mechanics. The effect is still just Player X is at a disadvantage to Y.

One time we used: “You’re chasing him through the burning rice field with your bow knocked. Every so often, you catch a glimpse of him through the smoke but it’s hard to draw a bead on him…” Stealth close in a Blossoms are falling game.

One thing I think might help in this very particular situation is playing on the very tension of the situation - the character is being held at gunpoint (or well, bowpoint). That’s not a time when you simply turn away and go for someone else; you’ll get an arrow in the back! Also, the character knows that once that arrow flies, he can rush in and finish that idiot archer off, provided he’s not skewered.

This gives a reason to stay there for the exchange, and also charges the situation with a little more danger. It also hands the ball back to the player - can you script effectively and both avoid the arrow and catch the archer flat-footed, or will you react at the wrong moment and get the much-feared “arrow to the knee”?

All I have to say, being the author of that thread linked to on the first page (and a couple other threads where I vented my frustration with the Fight mechanics), is that Luke was right. Run a few Fights in-game – simulations don’t count! – and you’ll eventually have an A-HA! moment where everything clicks. After that, things just make sense.

Task. Intent. Resolution. Repeat. Simple as that.

Something I’ve learned from running The Sword a bunch (and from a decent understanding of human cognition) is that setting expectations can make all the difference. (Here’s a thread wherein I give similar advice in regards to that scenario, by the by.) Players are often tainted by battle systems in other games and/or the general expectation that they should be winning. When a Fight! starts to break out, it’s pretty important to remind them that victory is definitely not guaranteed and that when victory does come it will sometimes (often?) be Pyrrhic. They need to understand that Fight! in Burning Wheel is closer to real life than the movies and that they are putting their character in mortal danger every time they bring out those scripting sheets. Remind them of this every time - even just a “Are you sure it’s worth risking a sucking chest wound to get the McGuffin?” - and perhaps they’ll start enjoying the chaos. :slight_smile:

[/2¢]

Leonides said: "Cue Everyone: “Use the greatest tool at your disposal, friend: Your immmmagination!”

I wouldn’t beat yourself up over this too much Leo. I read an interesting article recently that said, in a nutshell, people are always telling other people to “just use your imagination.” The author of the article made the point that “just using your imagination” isn’t is easy as it’s made out to be in our culture. Sometimes it takes quite a bit of mental effort.

Thanks, Wrathbone. I’ll try not to. I will, however, beat myself up for using two colons in a sentence. :wink: