New Year's Evil Postmortem - Anatomy of a Scene

Note: This content originally appeared on my blog.

Well, the final (for now) New Year’s Evil update is here. I had a lot of fun writing it, and it was good to get back to R’lyehwatch after taking a break. Glancing at that Changelog, I added a fantastic piece of art and a much needed rhyme, and removed a superfluous scene. Scene #5, to be precise. Which means Scene #6 is now Scene #5, and the heretofore hypothetical Scene #7 has taken its place.

I also made a small but significant change that I feel vastly improved one of the scenes.

Note: This Postmortem falls dangerously close to GM Advice. GMing is an art, not a science. These things work for me, but might not work for you, and may in fact lead to your downfall. You have been warned.

What makes a good scene?

I would say a good scene comes down to two rules of thumb:

1. Players should quickly have an idea of what they are there to accomplish.
2. The Referee should easily grasp what will happen if the players fail to accomplish their goals.

(Lastly, scenes can almost always benefit from time pressure, unless they’re a deliberate relaxation point, your Resident Evil save closet if you will.)

Brandoff’s Platonic Ideal of a Scene

Behold! The perfect scene:

There’s a treasure chest, but coiled around it is a great sleeping serpent.

Boom! That scenario has everything you need.

Players know treasure is good and monsters are bad. They’re probably going to try to get the treasure, somehow, hopefully without waking and having to fight the monster.*

The GM knows what will happen if the players screw up: they’ll have to fight the monster.

As an added bonus, there’s even a natural time limit baked into the scene: eventually, that sleeping serpent is going to wake up…

This is what I value most: perfect clarity. Everyone at the table immediately knows what they’re supposed to do with this thing.

*Why do the players feel entitled to the so-called “monster’s” rightfully-coiled treasure? Because they are horrible, horrible people. Next question!

So How Did New Year’s Evil Change?

When I updated New Year’s Evil, I added a fun twist to the boss* and removed a lifeless scene that I felt only served to pad things out. But most importantly, I tweaked a scene, just a little, in a way that I believe saved it from mediocrity.

*A twist that would encourage interacting with NPCs earlier in the adventure – a trademark, always talk to my silly NPCs, they will always tell you how to weaken the boss, don’s ask questions just go with it.

Each scene in R’lyehwatch opens with bold text that sets the stage (serving as readaloud boxed text if you’re into that sort of thing), followed by a Dramatic Question which gives the “point” of the scene.

Here’s the setup for Scene 3 – Winter Wonderland-on-Your-Butt:

The Radical Roller Disco is decked out with a winter theme. Even the DJ is dressed as a snowman. But among the whirling throng of costumed rollerbladers lurks a genuine Rime Witch.

And here’s how the Dramatic Question originally played out:

Dramatic Question: Can the heroes stop the Rime Witch before she turns the roller rink into an ice rink?

Lastly, here is the updated version:

Dramatic Question: Can the heroes stop the Rime Witch before she reaches the DJ and sings an icy song that turns the roller rink into an ice rink?

It’s not the biggest change, but I think it completely fixes what might have been a muddled and confusing mess. Both versions had the same fun setup – a roller rink decked out in a Christmas theme, a frost witch lurking somewhere in the whirling crowd.

But in its original form… well, what exactly were the heroes supposed to do?

Dramatic Question: Can the heroes stop the Rime Witch before she turns the roller rink into an ice rink?

This doesn’t tell us much. The next paragraph mentions how hard it is to spot her in the crowd, which hints at a search. But what exactly is she doing? Is she conducting some ritual on the roller rink? I didn’t say, and thus the scenario is vague at best.

Finally, there’s zero time pressure. I mean, rituals take time, but there’s no indication of how much heroic failure it would take for the Rime Witch to pull off her plan.

Let’s take another look at the revised version:

Dramatic Question: Can the heroes stop the Rime Witch before she reaches the DJ and sings an icy song that turns the roller rink into an ice rink?

Right there, the situation is much more concrete.

The players immediately know their goal (i.e., stop the Rime Witch from reaching DJ Snowman and making use of his equipment). How they’ll try to accomplish that goal is completely up to them. They might try to spot her in the crowd, form a protective barrier around DJ Snowman, or if they’re jerks, even smash up his equipment.

And now the GM knows what will happen if the players are unable to stop the Rime Witch: she’ll grab the DJ’s microphone and sing a magic song that covers the roller rink in ice. (The scene’s title hints at what’ll happen after that.)

Lastly, we now have a deadline. It’s easy to visualize this frost witch slowly creeping through a whirling crowd, inching closer to the DJ. Maybe someone catches a glimpse of her in the crowd. Then another. She’s getting closer! Aaaaah!

The point is, originally, I didn’t say enough. And by not saying enough, I made the scene too confusing to run at the table.

So What, Do You Hate Mystery?

Of course not. I’m not arguing against mystery. When I say players should quickly know what they’re supposed to do, that doesn’t mean they should freely have access to all available information.

When Mulder and Scully arrive on scene, they usually have no idea what’s going on. But they know what they’re there to do: figure out what is going on! And if they don’t – time pressure – the monster or phenomena will strike again.

Just stop reading this and go watch X-Files, is what I’m saying.

Does Any of This Matter?

Not really, I’m just having fun. Sure, GMs could always come up with their own forms of time pressure and detailed Rime Witch schemes. They’re still free to do all that! I encourage customizing. But the important thing is, GMs who just want to print out a two-page scenario and run it for a holiday one-shot won’t have to do any unnecessary preparation.

In Conclusion

When writing a scene, ask yourself: Is it clear to players what they’re here to accomplish, and is it clear to the GM what will happen if they don’t achieve their goals? If the answer to either of those questions is “no,” chances are a small tweak or two will set things in working order.