I’ve learned a lot of things in this last year of gaming. I figured I’d share some of them with you, in the form of a few more GM Workshop posts.

If you were to ask me, a year ago, what the plot of Tolkien’s masterpiece The Lord of the Rings was, I’d say it was about taking a magic item across a continent to destroy it and dethrone the dark lord. Today, I’d tell you it’s a story about an underdog who must carry a burden he never wanted, a king who’s run away because he’s afraid he’ll make the same mistakes his ancestor did, and two members of different races who learn to trust each other.

In summary, I’ve decided that stories aren’t about external action, but internal (and interpersonal) action.

I’ll give you a few pieces of media that really made this click for me.

The brilliant actual-play podcast Shadow of the Cabal (which just ended, much to my chagrin) has highlighted this in so many ways. The most profound moments aren’t ones that occur in the GM’s plot, but the ones that he facilitates between the different characters – I’ll get into what I mean by that in a moment.

The television series Blindspot (minor spoilers ahead) is about a crack team of FBI agents dealing with a new deadly threat each week – but most of the drama is centered on the relationships between the different agents; one’s taking small and “necessary” bribes, and the other makes a comment about how corrupt cops should be purged without tolerance. Voila, instant tension that gets played out while the agents are waiting during a stakeout.

Lastly, Jim McClure’s ongoing GM Masterclass really highlighted this for me. The incredible tension that builds by the finale of the Rokugan series is tension between the characters, not tension related to the GM’s story. He’s willing to share lots of “secret” information to develop the relationship between those characters since he recognizes that that’s where the drama comes from.

I put this to the test in my most recent ice-age game I played in (instead of GMing). I was playing a Neanderthal who was in a party with a precursor to the modern man. I intentionally created my character to be overly hostile to the “worthless thinkers” at first, but upon seeing the practical applications of thinking about situations before acting, he slowly began to realize that intelligence was useful, and even found himself interested in learning things by the end of the session.

Even if it wasn’t important to anyone else, the in-character relationship that developed really defined my character to me more than any other trait: he’s a Neanderthal who learned the value of intelligence through an interpersonal conflict. Secretly, I’m guessing these stories are more powerful because they’re more relatable. Very few of us have ever had the experience of being a Neanderthal, but learning to respect others is a very human and relatable story.

So what’s my point? I think the players and the GM both have a distinct role in telling these sorts of enduring stories.

It’s the job of players to sit down and, during character creation, come up with reasons that their characters will have opposing worldviews, disagreements, and interpersonal conflict (incidentally, without being forced to resort to murdering one another or dissolving the party in the first session). Then, It’s the job of the GM to come up with situations in the plot where those character conflicts can take center stage against the background of the larger story. Finally, it’s again the players’ job to take advantage of the situations the GM gives them to actually develop their characters. All of this requires clear communication between the players and the GM.

I know that next time I sit down to start a new campaign, I’m going to have this discussion with my players, and I’d invite you to do the same.