Method Gamers

Remember the Ice Chicken

The next thing I learned was the plan can always change. In fact, if there isn't room in the original plan for change, rewriting the plan before it ever sees another person is not only well-advised, but necessary. Yes, having a plan is part of the legendary, albeit not entirely tangible Event Runner's Code, in which everything you needed to know about running an event, from A-Z, and handling the inevitable press (good and bad) afterwards is covered.

Any "how to" only gets you so far on the virtual stage. If it's a good how to, it may cover the basics of what happens when the stage light falls on your fellow actor's head, suddenly taking them out of the action. Most often, you're just on your own with a reminder that calling an ambulance might be helpful. But it's up to you to learn to improvise, doubly so if there's no working phones to be had.

Most events don't quite go off as planned; some do, but those are exceptions rather than rules. Or, you may find, on occasion, the plan should be tossed out the window and a new one made - on the spot if necessary (and it often is). It's fine. Even when the ending is screwed up because of some game patch, and therefore has to be retooled, it really is possible to rearrange the steps from A to B. It honestly helps if you've read a Choose Your Own Adventure book at least once in your life.

The final lesson from the "ice chicken incident" was: Never underestimate your audience. Although it was illustrated in a very minor way then, I now realize it is the most important lesson of all.

An indecipherable code meant to last an entire day will most likely be solved in 10 minutes. Someone will always want to ally with "the villain" of the tale. The person you can always count on to share "vital secrets" with others will one day decide that this secret should remain so, and all the cooperation with other players you were banking on flies right out of the door. It doesn't matter if you have five alternate endings for an event (no joke) when something unexpected happens ten minutes into the event that makes all of those endings fairly implausible and "more trouble than they're worth" to push into making happen. I learned to improvise constantly.

When people are so far immersed in a story, everything the story touches develops meaning. First, it was the feathers from an ice chicken. ("Grab the feathers! We should study them!") Years later, when I was running an event for another game, it was a bag of sugar in a space station, thought to contain deadly substances or vital clues to a mission. ("But why would he fixate on a bag unless it's important?") In fact, it was just something improvised by the person behind the scenes playing a government delegate being rescued. Sometimes it's a vital clue; sometimes it's just a bag of sugar. Who knows what it will be tomorrow? I can't wait to find out.

Nova Barlow is the Research Manager for The Escapist and Playerbase Solutions. She is also a regular contributor to WarCry.