The title “Storyteller” is something of a misnomer. After all, though the writing of the story is certainly within your purview, in the course of your duties, you’re really working with the other participants to direct it. If you were solely in charge of the actors, you would be doing theater and not LARP, and you’d be a director and not a Storyteller. It’s a bit of nomenclatural irony that Storytellers provide direction, and directors dictate stories. That’s not to say that one tradition can’t borrow from the other.
Indeed, LARP has much in common with improvisational theater, where the stories portrayed are the product of everyone acting out their characters. And just as LARP has rules to resolve disputes and keep the action moving, there are some commonly upheld rules of thumb for improv that keep things moving in a positive direction as well. By applying some of these rules to your storytelling style, you can avoid some of the common storytelling pitfalls and even enhance the flow of creative energy within your game.
Rule 1: Don’t Deny Avoiding the practice of denial is perhaps the most important rule of improv. It’s defined as the act of negating the direction of a participant by declining their attempt to advance story. When denial happens, it runs the risk of depleting the creative energy of the scene, as participants have to work to re-engage themselves. This can lead to prolonged and awkward pauses, which disrupt the flow of things until story resumes. Keeping a positive flow is important in LARP as well.
It helps make the experience more immersive and more enjoyable for all participants. And while it’s certainly important that players do their best to avoid denying one another, it’s also important for Storytellers to avoid denying their players. However, the typical Storyteller isn’t always aware of the ways the players are being denied. Perhaps the most direct form of denial comes in the form of mechanics. It’s the Storyteller’s job to uphold the rules, and in the course of action rules calls can be disruptive to creative flow.
• “That just wouldn’t work.”
• “Your contact doesn’t know anything.”
• “The elder isn’t available tonight.”
• “You cast the ritual—nothing happens.” While these occurrences may be necessary and/or true, these sorts of answers deny the actions of the players without offering any new avenues to pursue or giving anything meaningful to react to in character. This is very frustrating to players (especially the new ones!), and it can lead to breaks in the action, which in turn detract from the mood of the game. Avoiding these moments is important to help keep everyone engaged and focused on their actions. However, that doesn’t mean you can’t tell players no. Sometimes whatever the players are trying simply wouldn’t work, or the circumstances of the scene or the story are such that the players wouldn’t succeed. From a storytelling perspective, this is perfectly acceptable, and in some instances, it can add to the scene. When you have to tell a player no, try to give them something else. Offer them context and additional structure in a way that adds to roleplay, helping them steer the game back on track. This is an application of “yes, and…”—the famous rule of improv theater. Following this practice helps keeps the players engaged in the game and increases their feeling of agency. Here are some examples:
• “That course of action isn’t going to work. However, I see your PC has a number of levels of the Science skill. It occurs to you that it might work to try….”
• “You reach out to your contact in the shipping industry, relaying the details of the antiquities shipment the Prince is looking for. A few minutes later, you receive an email—no one at the port authority seems to know anything. Strangely, there hasn’t been a vessel from Cairo in weeks.”
• “You send a text message to your mentor’s ghoul, asking for a visit to seek her council. ’The elder isn’t available tonight’, is the reply you receive. The ghoul’s reply strikes you as unusually curt—perhaps there’s a reason for it?”
• “You begin the invocation for Illuminate the Trail of Prey, focusing intently on the photograph of the mysterious stranger. “Yes, and…”How to Improve Your Storytelling Through Application of the Rules of Improv As you reach the ritual’s completion, nothing happens. Uncertainty begins to creep in. What manner of creature can avoid Thaumaturgical pursuit?” It’s also possible to deny players with NPCs in a variety of ways. Sometimes players will want to get rough with NPCs vital to the story or act out against NPCs you want them to respect. While certainly frustrating, you may feel tempted to bring them to heel forcefully, making the NPCs more powerful such that they can resist or even domineer over the PCs. This is another form of denial. While the Storyteller is certainly under no obligation to make every encounter for the PCs a walk in the park, it’s important to allow the PCs to interact with NPCs in ways that allow them to feel that they have an active role in the story, and avoid attempting to negate their actions so directly. Just as the players respect your storytelling, so too should you respect the agency of their characters in creating their own stories. Enjoying some degree of power is an important theme of portraying a vampire and part of what makes them so appealing. While the cliché goes, “There’s always something bigger than you in the World of Darkness,” the mystique and superiority of being a vampire quickly fades if every homeless person the players feed on is suddenly a werewolf. For that reason, consider giving the PCs some leeway. On most nights, there’s nothing wrong with letting the PCs Dominate and Presence their way out of speeding tickets and past club bouncers, and should they beat on the occasional vagrant get hit in the head with Puissance, well…these things happen. While it seems permissive to let players finesse or brute force their way through most conflicts, it serves to make those moments where the story asserts itself with tougher challenges and stronger foes that much more horrifying and compelling for the participants. But until those moments come along, avoid making the NPCs unstoppable. To that end, it’s important not to deny with your NPC portrayals as well. While antagonists are certainly an exception, it’s no fun for PCs to constantly interact with characters who remain stoic and flat despite their attempts to interact. This is especially true of ordinary or stock NPCs, the flat characters that serve a specialized role, such as a limo driver or convenience store clerk. If the PCs are looking to push the local snitch around, let them! Whenever possible, allow for the personalities of the NPCs to be influenced and defined by the PCs’ actions, and consider that the dynamic Storyteller can advance a plot by building upon the actions of the players. This is another application of the improv rule “yes, and….” Denial can come into play in other ways. Throughout the course of gameplay, players will often dream up complex or perhaps fantastical solutions to the problems they face, which to the Storyteller will seem implausible. When that happens, it can be tempting to outright deny the players, dismissing their actions as impossible without allowing them to play out. This is a very frustrating form of denial for the players, especially when they’ve put time and effort into their planning. While not every scheme on the part of the players should be hand-waved to a successful outcome, finding ways to work with your players instead of refusing them can help maintain a positive energy. A great way to do this is by allowing the players to make the attempt at whatever it is that they’re trying and integrating the attempt into the story. If for example, the players were looking to pay off a Giovanni loan shark by robbing a bank after hours (with no plausible means of doing so), let them make their attempt. While you may not be able to allow them to achieve their goal outright, seek to keep them engaged through narrative. With a little creativity, their attempt can help advance the story. For example, “The Dominated security guard opens the front door, and the first part of your plan is successful. You’re led past the row of kiosks and through a door into the back area. Stopping at the vault door, the guard gestures. ‘That’ll open at 6 a.m.,’ he explains. Standing there, with over a ton of steel blocking your path, it occurs to you how upset Don Michael gets when he’s kept waiting. As you ponder what he might do to you, you receive a text message. ‘DON’T BE LATE,’ says an unknown number.” Ultimately, the good Storyteller is a nimble one. She finds ways to work with her players and support their actions, and finds ways to roll with the punches when they engage the storyline in unforeseen ways. By taking care not to deny, the players stay engaged, and the positive energies flow. Rule 2: Avoid Open-Ended Questions Imagine walking into a scene with no script, preparation, or background, and suddenly having the burden of maintaining the dialogue placed upon you. You’d likely find it very difficult. It’s already challenging to be creative in the span of a few seconds, and it’s immensely difficult with nothing with which to work. Now imagine you sat down at a restaurant and were simply asked what you wanted to eat, instead of being shown a menu. You’d likely find that a difficult decision as well. You’d have no idea what the chef was prepared to make or what ingredients were on hand. Perhaps you could name something that the kitchen could prepare, but it probably wouldn’t be the house special. These are difficulties that happen when asking questions that are too open, another improv taboo. Whereas freedom of choice is a good thing, open-ended questions offer no context as to how to proceed or what sort of answer might lead to more story. They’re also create a strong sense of pressure and can disturb the flow of a scene by placing all of the onus on one party as to what happens next. In a game environment, we often do this to one another without realizing it. Some examples:
• Player: “What’s going on with my influences?”
• Player: “What does my clan’s elder want me to do tonight?”
• Storyteller: “Where are you holding Elysium?”
• Storyteller: “What are your characters doing tonight?” A great way to avoid this issue is to ask for and offer structure as part of your questions whenever possible. This involves giving some background or a set of parameters to help the other party answer your question. As a Storyteller, you’re justified in asking for some structure from your players, just as they should from you. These questions engage the other party, the better for the two of you construct a story. For example,
• Player: “What’s going on with my influences?”
• Storyteller: “They’re working people, so they’ve got a lot going on. They do call you from time to time with various deals and opportunities. Let’s go through your list together, and maybe you could tell me about your relationship with each of them? …and…
• Player: “What’s happening in the city tonight?”
• Storyteller: “The city remains a busy place after sundown. But what’s happening depends a lot on perspective. Is your character looking for entertainment, or for profit, or maybe for ways to get into trouble?” Another great way for Storytellers to offer structure is to summarize the events leading up to the present moment. This practice can help remind the players of the points that led them to their current choice, as well as adding drama and meaning to the current choice. For example:
• Storyteller: “In the wake of last week’s hunter attack, you’ve gotten the distinct impression that the Prince is in no mood for another disruption and considers privacy and security essential for the next gathering place. However, a number of Toreador dignitaries are rumored to be passing through town and are likely to scoff at a location with a Spartan aesthetic. As the Keeper of Elysium, the choice of location falls to you. Where do you hold Elysium?” In the case of more immediate choices, Storytellers can avoid an open-ended question by setting the mood as part of their question.
• Storyteller: “The mood in the city is light and festive. The evening air is uncharacteristically lively, and a surprise upset earlier in the evening has earned the [local sports team] a playoff spot. The rack is packed and lively. Where are you as the evening begins?” Rule 3: You don’t have to be funny epic! In improvisational theater, it’s understood that sometimes putting too much effort into being funny can have the opposite effect. It can be difficult enough to keep a scene progressing, and the added pressure of trying to set up jokes can be too encumbering for even skilled performers. While everyone certainly wants to be funny, it’s understood that humor is something that’s going to happen as a result of everyone playing their parts. In a LARP environment, while the players aren’t necessarily looking to be funny, they are looking to have a compelling and immersive experience. For the Storyteller, it can be especially tempting to craft especially epic plotlines to help make stories meaningful. As a story evolves, it’s very common for threat levels to escalate. Eventually, you may find the players working together to save the world, a sure sign that things have gone too far. This escalation is something you want to avoid. Epic stories can certainly be entertaining. They’re useful for keeping players engaged, and they’re great for intensity. However, it’s not necessary to keep your players engaged. While some degree of scale and grandiosity can serve as a great tool in many situations, ultimately, the players will find ways to make their struggles meaningful and dramatic on their own. Attempting to add additional depth to stories by making them too epic can actually be counter-productive to story. One reason for this is that stories that are too grandiose are often too morally polarizing. After all, if the future of the world is at stake, it’s pretty easy to categorize everyone as either a good guy or a bad guy. When that happens, many of the moral shades of gray, which are so important to Vampire canon, are lost. The PCs will tend to follow predictable patterns of behavior, working to prevent the end of the world. Over time, the PCs will become conditioned to act as superheroes, unlikely to initiate story or conflict on their own, lying in wait between adventures for their next epic struggle to begin. Plots that are too epic also tend to de-emphasize the characters. If the external threat is strong enough, lesser conflicts will fall to the wayside while the players unite to deal with the threat. Differences in ideologies, after all, tend not to matter very much when the city stands to be destroyed. Against a common foe, fights over shared resources seem petty by comparison, and conflicts between players are often suspended. Player goals and backgrounds are easily overshadowed as well. Pursuing tangential or personal objectives becomes immensely difficult when the urgency of the main plot is so high. This is unfortunate, as it’s often these lesser stories that provide contrast to make larger plots more interesting. Keeping external conflicts small helps keep the focus on the characters. By allowing players some leeway to pursue their individual stories, they better establish their own unique motivation. This brings depth to their characters and ultimately adds meaning to larger conflicts. When beginning plots, consider the following:
• Is the plot hook too large? Plots that begin with immediate and pressing “trouble in the city,” such as bomb detonations and Masquerade threats, tend to pull everyone away from whatever they’re doing. Consider a less-direct means of introducing things. Maybe the players could come across plans for a bomb or catch wind of an upcoming press conference?
• Are the NPCs involved the right size? It’s easy to paint oneself into a corner when using too large of an NPC, such as a injecting a Justicar or Cardinal into the story. Introducing a high-level NPC leaves the Storyteller very little room to escalate or backtrack if the plot demands it. Archons and Templars can carry the authority of their employer and are much more disposable. Consider one instead.
• Are you using the right quantity of NPCs? If, for example, the Storyteller wishes to use werewolves as chronicle antagonists, it would be much more in-depth to create a single well-established pack, complete with names and histories, than to use a nearby city with a nebulous lupine population. Naturally, some degree of intensity can be very compelling to players, so allow them some time to cool down after a particularly intense plot is resolved. This may involve a game session or two of lower activity to allow their repressed impulses, goals, and conflicts to come to the surface. Rather than ushering the PCs to their next adventure, consider the following:
• Allow the conventions of sect life to take center stage for a little while. These are great times for Princes to hold formal court and give speeches and for Archbishops to give sermons and conduct city-wide vaulderie. This time gives the players an opportunity to jockey for position and for conflicts to form.
• Shift your focus to personal plots and downtime-related actions. Some of the more important themes of being a vampire are seldom explored, such as how the PCs feed regularly and the sort of havens they’ve made.
• Allow the city to react to large-scale events. This reaction can take the form of an increased police presence or a change in the overall mood of a city as it reacts to a disruption. Remember, you don’t need to make big stories for the players to feel important. Any plot is ultimately a series of integrated choices, and your players will communicate the stories they wish to be a part of through the actions of their characters. Knowing when to stand back and allow those to happen can lead to a truly immersive experience. Rule 4: You Can Look Good if You Make Your Players Look Good LARP is like theater in that its participants often relish their time in the spotlight. This circumstance often leads to players competing for the opportunity to participate in plots, sometimes at the expense of others. Likewise, it can be tempting to advance the story at the expense of the players, pushing along a course of events in spite of their actions. However, in all cases, nobody looks good if there isn’t some degree of give and take. Fortunately, the opposite is true. As a Storyteller, while the plots you write are important, they’ll appear all the more impressive the more you can help your players shine. By creating scenarios that allow the participants to succeed based on the qualities of their characters, you give your players a heightened sense of accomplishment and involvement. One way to achieve this feeling is by finding ways to reward the players for the areas of expertise they’ve chosen for their PCs. Certainly, every character is unique, and characters are often uniquely defined by their aptitudes and interests. As a Storyteller, you have the opportunity to create scenarios that bring those aptitudes into play. By reinforcing those areas where the PCs are exceptional, your players will feel rewarded for their choices and feel a greater sense of agency within the game. There are a variety of ways to go about this. In storytelling, narrative description is a useful tool, and changing the way you describe scenes to players is a great way to reward characters who have chosen mental abilities. For example:
• The Investigation skill allows players to automatically detect weapons when they use their action to scrutinize someone. Considering going beyond this, offering additional physical clues and potential avenues of exploration in scenes to those PCs who are especially adept.
• The Awareness skill touches upon the supernatural. Set aside a few minutes and work with a player to determine how this manifests itself, whether it’s a tinge in their spine or a stomach ache. Instead of saying, “Your Awareness skill goes off,” describe the stimulus to them (“You feel a tingle behind your ears”). This description can be a subtle means of letting a single player know what’s going on without alerting the group.
• Fields such as Science, Academics, and Lore represent a great deal of study. Pointing out opportunities to use these skills to understand what’s going on can be especially helpful to those PCs who may not have the same expertise out of character. This can be as simple as asking, “Is anyone specialized in…?” Storytellers can also highlight and reinforce the unique social qualities of PCs through their NPCs. Just as relationships differ from one person to the next, endeavor to have your NPCs interact with each PC in a different way. If a PC wants to be a Toreador seducer, a Gangrel bully, or a Ventrue businessman, treat them accordingly! Supporting their core concepts through roleplay is very validating, and it works in accordance with the rule of “yes, and….” For example:
• The Empathy skill involves the ability to connect with others. Where appropriate, allow NPCs to act more open and accommodating to those PCs with higher levels of this skill.
• PCs with high Intimidation are not typically attacked by low-level NPCs. Give them a little extra mileage for their skill selection by having NPCs give them a wide berth.
• The Subterfuge ability covers deceit. Allow your PCs some leeway when it comes to duplicity, with those PCs with a knack for Subterfuge more likely to be believed by most NPCs. Backgrounds are an important character dimension as well. Consider creating challenges or opportunities to reinforce the PCs’ background choices. Examples include:
• Fame can be both a blessing and a curse. Consider having PCs with Fame recognized from time to time. This can take the form of accommodating admirers, the nuisance of overzealous fans, or the frustration of internet trolls.
• Allies and Retainers make great helpers, but sometimes that’s a two-way street. Perhaps they have issues for which they need the player’s help.
• Class distinctions remain a factor even in undead society. NPCs, especially elders, may associate positive or negative stereotypes depending on a PC’s perceived level of wealth.
• As any homeowner will tell you, maintaining an expansive Haven bring a whole new set of challenges. Perhaps the PC with several dots in Haven has some bothersome neighbors to deal with? Ultimately, factoring in the unique qualities of the PCs into your scenarios makes players feel more connected to their characters, which helps immerse them into the storyline. When it comes to storytelling, it’s best to share the spotlight. Making your players look good makes you look good. Rule 5: [Allow the characters to] Tell a Story! Theater, like LARP, is about telling a story. It’s intuitive, after all—if everyone’s gathered together, something is supposed to happen. But unlike theater, roleplaying games are especially involving, because the outcomes to those stories aren’t predetermined. As a Storyteller, your involvement in this process is especially important. But while you control the stage, so to speak, it’s important that you avoid exercising too much control over the story. In fact, there’s much depth to be found in working to involve your players more. This process begins by giving the players control of the plot whenever possible. While providing direction is important, strive to keep plot outcomes a function of player choice rather than predetermining their outcomes or swooping in with NPCs to settle them. Stories that end in a fixed outcome have a way of invalidating the choices that led to them. Players find this experience especially souring, and it runs the risk of greatly diminishing their agency. In the course of storytelling, keep in mind that the inner conflict that takes place within a character can be equally compelling as the outer conflict. Challenge or tempt the PCs to act in ways contrary to their core concept and/or nature. This conflict allows your players the opportunity for their characters to evolve or for them to better define themselves along their chosen direction. Examples:
• A PC built as a Fanatic is presented with a crisis of faith. Does she abandon her beliefs in the face of adversity or remain devout?
• An aspiring businessman and Architect is given the opportunity of a lifetime at the expense of his morality. Does the end justify the means?
• A PC who’s always gotten through life as a Survivor must risk himself to save his friends. Where do his true priorities lie? It’s also important to introduce storylines that affect the relationships between characters. You can do this by introducing events that will affect the characters differently, ones which will benefit some players while hindering others, possibly due to differing backgrounds or motivations. Use this choice to challenge their established structures of friendship or rivalry so as to better define them. Examples:
• The city council is holding a vote to demolish a longstanding housing project, relocating the residents to outlying suburbs. This project could be beneficial to Ventrue real estate interests, but detrimental to the Brujah with ties to local community organizers. Politics can be a messy business, sometimes.
• A recently discovered hunter cell is rumored to be dangerously on the verge of discovering the location of the Tremere Chantry. Any civic-minded Nosferatu would do their due diligence and alert the domain officers— wouldn’t they?
• An up-and-coming local artist and satirist has offended the sensibilities of an Assamite elder. However, any Toreador worth her salt can recognize his talent. It seems the gallery where next month’s Elysium will take place has an unexpected vacancy…. In the course of storytelling, don’t be afraid if the characters’ actions take the story off the beaten path you envisioned. Any of the above scenarios can go in a variety of directions, and if yours do, it’s not a sign of bad design. When the PCs’ interests or motivations take them elsewhere, let them follow. It’s possible that the natural progression of their characters lies in a different direction than the plot you envisioned, in which case, great! They’re still active and engaged. In fact, they’re saying “yes, and…” to you. As an exercise in collaborative storytelling, LARP is at its best when all parties are actively immersed and engaged, each working from a place of agency in tandem with the other participants. Although your role as a Storyteller is to provide structure, you are at your best when you remain open and flexible. Through their actions, your players will tell you the stories they wish to be a part of, and the themes that matter most to them. Learning to listen to what they’re saying and to say yes to it makes for a more engaging game, and ultimately, a better collaborative experience. So, in the course of telling your stories, don’t tell your players no; tell them “yes, and.…” Jimmy Reckitt is a former Head Storyteller of Chicago: Dark Requiem, a founding chronicle of One World by Night. He’s been hooked ever since he attended his first LARP in Rockford, Illinois, in 1999. In his spare time, he enjoys yoga, weightlifting, and meditation. His spirit animals are the elephant, the bear, and the giant squid.
Originally published in Mind’s Eye Theatre: Storyteller Secrets by By Night Studios. Presented here under Resources for chronicles and live play.