Category: Documentation

  • Pneuma – The Game

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    Pneuma – The Game

    By

    Hallgeir Gustavsen

    Pneuma is a surreal mystery-drama, seemingly about a random gathering of people stuck on a bus in the middle of nowhere. The larp is played over four acts. The style is inquisitive and dark. We are trying to attain a feeling of mysteries and confusion. The larp was a brain-child of Hallgeir; it also used elements from escape-rooms like riddles, puzzle-boxes and a cryptex.

    Before Game

    We decided to try something new regarding the workshops before the start of the larp. To that end, we gave the players some instructions on certain actions that should be taken during the workshop. This ranged from “3 times during the workshop you should try to be defiant” to “3 times during the workshop you should say something racist”. We wanted to do this to make the divide between the player and the character a bit blurry from the get-go. We also debriefed about this after the larp, so that the player forced to be a racist was able to explain.

    Bullshit Personality-text

    We wanted the players to feel that the character was written for them, and only them. To do this, we asked all the players some bullshit before the larp started, like: “What is your star-sign?”, “What is your favourite colour?”, “Which animal represents you?” and “Write down 3 words that represent you”.

    In addition to this, we started all characters with the following:

    “We have tried to write the personality of your character based on which player is playing them. We do this to increase your empathy with your character and how to play the role. This is not the main theme of the larp, but we would like to use it as much as possible. If we have some misses, you are totally free to use whatever parts you want to use for play.”

    After that, all characters had the same text (written by Derren Brown):

    “You are a person prone to bouts of self-examination. This is in sharp contrast to a striking ability you have developed to appear very socially engaged, even the life and soul of the party; but in a way that only convinces others. You are all too aware of it being a façade…”

    Playing

    The magical mirrors were an efficient tool for creating a surreal atmosphere (play, Tim Esborn). The magical mirrors were an efficient tool for creating a surreal atmosphere (play, Tim Esborn).

    We divided the larp into acts in order to be able to change the black box and to give instructions and information to the players. All the characters were really aspects of one person’s personality, and inspired by a deadly sin or heavenly virtue. They were all a part of a mentally ill man’s psyche. There were two stories playing out during this larp: What happened inside the two black boxes (the consciousness and the subconscious) and the story outside.

    This meant that all players had their “opposite”, and we tried to create conflicts there from the workshops before the larp. The two black boxes were set up to be the consciousness and subconscious of the character of whom the participants were playing aspects. He was a disturbed man contemplating killing his 5-year-old daughter, and what the players were really doing was deciding whether to kill her or not. So when, at the start of act 3, we held back two players and put them into the subconscious, only being able to communicate with the consciousness (the other black box) through a magical mirror, the players could start figuring out what was happening and who they were. We used some riddle-solving and actual puzzles in addition to the meta-game that was going on. It is difficult to predict how hard riddles and puzzles need to be in order to take the appropriate amount of time to solve. This is the first crack we have had at black-boxes and also the first larp we have made that was explicitly intended for reruns.


    Pneuma

    Credits: Hallgeir Gustavsen, Tim Esborn & Ståle Askerød Johansen

    Duration: 5–6 hours, 4 hours play time

    Participants: 14. Organizers can’t participate as ordinary players.

    Organizers & Helpers: 2–3

    Workload: Medium

    Possible Locations: Black box, gallery, classroom, conference room

    Equipment: Tables, chairs, sound-system of sorts, video-projector (not necessary, but better)

    Playing Style: Realistic, riddle-solving, but with plenty of improvisation

    Notes: Inspired by Agatha Christie´s And Then There Were None, and the movie Identity (2003). This larp used two connected black boxes and pre-recorded video and audio together with two “magical mirrors”. The players were not allowed to speak about the game between acts; a decision we would change in retrospect, as this could have helped solving the plot.


    This article was initially published in The Nordic Larp Yearbook 2015 published by Rollespilsakademiet and edited by Charles Bo Nielsen, Erik Sonne Georg, et al.

    Cover photo: The setting of the game was as enigmatic as it was abstract (play, Tim Esborn).

  • Being a Monk – Building a Cathedral

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    Being a Monk – Building a Cathedral

    By

    Alexander Orlov

    Быть Монахом (Being а Monk) was a larp simulating the life of a Benedictine monastery in the Pyrenees during Holy Week of 1202. The organizers were inspired not only by history and art, but also by their personal experience. The Duende larp held in 2010 in the Urals, where this larp’s organizers were players and part of the monastery team, proved that life in a monastery could provide interesting play. Another source of inspiration was the experience of pilgrimage on the Spanish Way of Saint James (Camino de Santiago). Thus an idea of a larp about a monastery on a pilgrim route was born.

    Unity of Place and Time

    Brother James preaching to the birds (Play, Irina Abzalova)
    Brother James preaching to the birds (Play, Irina Abzalova)

    The core idea of the larp was to:

    • show the monastery structure as a hermetic microcosm;
    • make possible a unique and rich gameplay on religious subjects which are seldom touched;
    • make the monastery represent a moment in the history of the whole European religion; the Church’s decline and crisis at the beginning of the 13th century.

    The larp was focused on the idea of an individual within the structure, not on the structure itself – that is why the larp is titled Being a Monk, rather than, for instance, “The Monastery”. The Middle Ages were obsessed with the questions of essence and existence, and the existential aspect was crucial to the larp.

    Why 1202? The idea of the Church on the edge of change was an important issue for us. The Franciscans and Dominicans were just about to appear, but their presence in the larp would make the answer too simple. The question was where the Western Christian world would go. Thus, the Benedictine monastery became the symbol of the Catholic Church; its inner problems, the distemper of all Christians; and the participants’ answers defined the subsequent destiny of the Church.

    Why the Pyrenees? It was important that the monastery was situated on a pilgrimage route, and the Camino de Santiago was chosen. Vivid Basque culture created another plotline, throwing together Christians and pagans.

    A Rose Is a Rose Is a Rose Is a Rose

    The key sources of inspiration were Umberto Eco’s The Name of the Rose and Postscript to The Name of the Rose. However, the larp was based not on the books themselves, but on their sources: on the archetypal plots and conflicts. A monastery (though in another region than Eco’s), theological treatises, historical facts and legends, Benedictine regulations – it all formed the larp according to the spirit of the sources.

    The process of building of Saint James’s Cathedral was a plot-defining event of the entire larp. The major conflict of the larp was a struggle (an ideological one rather than military) between Catholics and several groups of heretics and pagans. All those groups aimed to build the Cathedral according to their ideology. The construction combined an actual building process with the inclusion of the symbols corresponding to the sides of the conflict.

    An integrated and hermetic universe was an important part of the game. The monastery was planned as a closed system with no participants outside, and as a self-contained system of in-game knowledge. Not everyone is an expert in the Middle Ages, so there had to be a set of information adequately comprehensive, yet concise. The monastery had to be an entire microcosm for everyone who lived in it. The organizers selected a limited set of in-game information available to any character, and that information was collected in the Library available before the larp and later in-game. Any references to other texts and sources were “prohibited” off-game. Thus the participants could be sure that they had access to everything they could need for fully developed play.

    Spirit and Body

    Burning a witch (Play, Alexandra Koval)
    Burning a witch (Play, Alexandra Koval)

    Asceticism, both physical and mental, was another significant part of the game. It did not use any specific larp techniques, but rather authentic monastic practices that have been working very well for many centuries. Among them there was a daily session in which each character spoke about his sins in front of his brothers, as well as an obligatory confession.

    The monk’s day was divided into “hours”, and his daily schedule included five prayer services, even nightly ones. Lenten fare was used to influence the physical bodies of the participants. Large pre-game introductory texts of liturgy, history and game rules aimed to submerge the participants in the text traditions of those times, as well as serving as part of the asceticism. Even the larp’s length of three full days was chosen on purpose to immerse the participants into the monastery’s rhythm of life, as the rhythm was a defining element.

    Gender issues are unavoidable in such a strongly male-centric game world. Many female larpers wanted to have this unique experience of being a male monk. There is quite an old tradition of crossplay in Russian larp community (mostly with female larpers portraying male characters), but, although the number of crossplaying participants is usually strictly limited, in this case we allowed all interested female players to play monks.

    The larp had 19 sets of rules, several simulated crafts and spiritual/heresy regulations known only to some of the participants. The most important rules were devoted to:

    Spirituality

    These rules contained the doctrines of each of the conflicting groups. Following their dogmas, the characters could gain spiritual power. Obtaining spiritual experience was one of the most important game points for some of the characters. The most advanced characters were especially active in the ideological struggle for the Cathedral. Those who, however, had no interest in this field, were free to avoid this part of the larp.

    Crafts/Cathedral construction

    These rules connected the Cathedral with spirituality. Three main arts – mosaics, stained glass and murals – were a collective work of the majority of the monks. At a fixed hour, all participants created the concept of a future work, filling the template with symbols, which was an important opportunity for heretics to show what they were thinking. For example, by the end of the larp all the frescos in the Cathedral had turned out heretical (gnostic).

    Imagining the Cathedral

    Rendering of the draft project (Pre-game, Vasily Zakharov)
    Rendering of the draft project (Pre-game, Vasily Zakharov)

    We should mention that there are many differences between Russian and Nordic larp traditions. Nordic 360° illusion means “everything or nothing” – if you can’t show something for real, don’t even try. Most Russian larpers consider this a needless limitation. They are ready to accept a certain (and rather substantial) extent of conventionality if it suits a particular larp.

    The construction of the Cathedral was therefore first and foremost a symbolic action, and there’s a huge difference between playing in the real cathedral and building a cathedral with your own hands. We thus needed something that could actually be constructed during the larp and by the participants themselves.

    Things that inspired us were gothic architecture itself, and the novels The Spire by William Golding and The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett, both of which were, in their turn, inspired by Salisbury Cathedral in England.

    Our limitations when making the project of the Cathedral were the following:

    • The in-game building was to house and protect from rain all the participants (about 100 people) during the Easter mass at the end of the larp.
    • The style and structure of a gothic cathedral needed to be recognizable.
    • It was to be constructed by the participants and NPCs without any help from professional builders.
    • The time allowed for construction was 3 days before the larp plus 3 days during the larp.
    • The use of modern tools was to be minimized during the larp.
    • It was OK not to finish the building, as in reality cathedrals took centuries to build.
    • By the end of the larp the Cathedral was to be decorated inside with frescoes, stained glass windows, mosaics, sculptures and handmade candles.

    We decided to construct the building from 25 mm wooden planks, and to cover the walls with cloth and the roof with tarpaulin.

    Southern transept (Post-larp, Olga Vasilyeva)
    Southern transept (Post-larp, Olga Vasilyeva)

    This approach is typical for Russian larps, but this particular project was different from the others not only because of the size of the building, but because it was really much more complicated than anything done by Russian larpers before.

    Our main limitation was scarcity of time and people, so the task had to be simplified as much as possible. We therefore decided not to make a second floor in the building, and to play only on the ground.

    Initially the 3D-model of Salisbury cathedral was taken from Google Earth and used as a reference. Then 1-millimeter precise project was created in Trimble SketchUp. A professional engineer was called upon to verify the project’s feasibility and safety, and his suggestions were adopted.

    Finally, a three-nave basilica with a transept and a tower above the crossing was projected (see the plan). The final dimensions of the building were: 19 meters in length, 8 meters wide and 9 meters high.

    In order to speed up the process we decided to assemble the roofs, facades and the tower on the ground and then raise them up as a whole using ropes and poles – yeah, not historically correct for sure, but definitely dramatic. The projected lift weight of the tower (with the spire) was about 111 kg.

    Raising the Walls

    There was an in-game architect who overlooked the whole process and could take a look (in his personal room where other participants couldn’t see him) at the 3D-model on his laptop. Looking at the model he made sketches by hand on pieces of paper and gave those sketches to the building foremen who oversaw the construction. Foremen further distributed the tasks to workers who performed them using the sketches, and the architect monitored that everything was cut and assembled correctly.

    The participants who were actually building the Cathedral therefore didn’t need any specific knowledge or skill except for the ability to climb a stepladder while wearing a frock and using an electric screwdriver. Those who didn’t know how to do it were taught on-site. In this way, everyone whose characters wanted to work got the chance to do so.

    To make the building process look more authentic during the larp we invented historical designations for all the materials and instruments we were going to use. We pretended planks were stone blocks, the electric screwdriver was called a brace, etc.

    Decoration

    The crucifix, completed (Play, Olga Vasilyeva)
    The crucifix, completed (Play, Olga Vasilyeva)

    All the interior decoration of the Cathedral was created during the larp. The participant who played the head of fresco painters was a professional painter (the only professional of all of us!) The statues of the Virgin and St. James were made of parts of a torso mannequin and a head mannequin with the addition of some insulating foam, plasticine and paint.

    The crucifix was made of plasticine and painted; the crosses above the Cathedral and the baldachin above the crucifix were covered with copper and brass foil respectively. The floor mosaic at the crossing was made of mosaic pieces for bathrooms, on a plywood base. The simple campanile was constructed near the Cathedral and was fitted with brass bells 3 to 20 cm in size, brought by some of the participants from their homes.

    The culmination of the larp was to be at the Easter mass at night, so the stained glass windows didn’t seem like a good idea for that: but we desperately wanted to make something with the same visual effect. In the end we suspended a bright hand-made stained glass lamp in the centre of the Cathedral, highlighting the entire building in colorful shades.

    As a final note, we should say that we used about 3 m³ of timber, and the budget of the construction was about 2500 euros – thanks to the fact that almost all the expensive tools were borrowed from our friends for free. The photos pretty much say the rest.

    Still working at night (Pre-game, Irina Abzalova)
    Still working at night (Pre-game, Irina Abzalova)

    Being а Monk

    Credits: Anastasiya “Domenica” Sarkisyan, Liudmila “Var” Vitkevich, Alexander “Gray” Orlov (Design & Production); Vasily “Jolaf” Zakharov (Cathedral design and construction management).

    Date: May 6–10, 2015

    Location: Rented summer houses near Moscow, Russia

    Duration: 3 days (plus 3 days pre-construction)

    Participants: 80

    Organizers and Helpers: 20 NPCs and staff

    Budget: 8,000 € (30% location rental, 30% Cathedral construction, 30% other stuff)

    Participation Fee: 80 € (in advance) to 110 € (last moment)

    Game Mechanics: Adapted ritualistics, Spirituality, Crafts, Construction of the Cathedral

    Website: http://monachum-sum.livejournal.com (in Russian)
    Cathedral report: http://jolaf.livejournal.com/tag/cathedral (in Russian, with lots of photos and videos)


    This article was initially published in The Nordic Larp Yearbook 2015 published by Rollespilsakademiet and edited by Charles Bo Nielsen, Erik Sonne Georg, et al.

    Cover photo: Service (Play, Nataliia Lavrenova).

  • Photo Report: Blodsband Reloaded 2016

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    Photo Report: Blodsband Reloaded 2016

    By

    Johannes Axner

    Blodsband Reloaded is a Swedish larp campaign inspired by over the top post apocalyptic fiction like Fallout and Mad Max. The event is run once a year and the 2016 edition was played on 16-18 September.

    The larp has a very high costuming standard with many different groups doing different concepts. One group is The Machine Dogs who are vehicle borne raiders.

    Group members Sabina SonningMarta Hansbo and Hans Vrede took some amazing photos at the event and allowed us to publish some of them here:

    You can see the rest of the photos on the Facebook page of The Machine Dogs:
    https://www.facebook.com/themachinedogs/photos/?tab=album&album_id=1271914492861273

    You can read more about Blodsband Reloaded at the larp’s website:
    http://www.bbreloaded.se/

  • Creating a Culture of Trust through Safety and Calibration Larp Mechanics

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    Creating a Culture of Trust through Safety and Calibration Larp Mechanics

    By

    Maury Brown

    When Ben Morrow and I decided to offer a College of Wizardry-like experience in North America in April 2015, we knew we had our work cut out for us. Not only did we need to form a larp production company, secure the venue, build the costumes, obtain props, find players, and all the other duties associated with organizing a larp; we also had to write an entirely new magical universe for North America. We had to design the larp for what would be a predominantly American and Canadian audience, players who were not used to playing in the Nordic-style.

    Maury Brown and Ben Morrow, creators of New World Magischola. Photo courtesy of Learn Larp LLC.
    Maury Brown and Ben Morrow, creators of New World Magischola. Photo courtesy of Learn Larp LLC.

    Even if we seeded the game with experienced players of Nordic-style larps, we knew we wouldn’t have what Teresa Axner refers to as “herd competence,”((Miriam Lundqvist, “Making Mandatory Larps for Non-players,” Nordic Larp Talks 2015, YouTube, last modified Feb. 11, 2015, https://youtu.be/xnIKzQlnRuU )) whereby enough players in the game understood and used the Nordic-style of roleplay, thereby bringing along the players who did not. In fact, we knew we would have a herd competence of a different kind. We would have the majority of our players whose only larp experience was playing in the kinds of larps that are mainstream in the US and Canada: campaign boffer larps set in high fantasy, medieval, or post-apocalyptic settings; or Mind’s Eye Theatre White Wolf games, especially Vampire. All of these larps rely on statistics, skill calls, points, levels, and numeric combat resolution, as well as gamemasters and storytellers. New World Magischola would use none of these. Thus, we not only had to pay careful attention to the design of the game, but we also had to teach nearly all of our players — who were primarily either first-time larpers or larpers who had only played numerical mechanics-heavy games — how to play in this style. That meant developing explicit mechanics and pedagogy for some of the techniques that are now an implicit part of the Nordic- style larp culture. It’s also worth noting that the needs of each of these types of players in our primary participant group are different. The safety, calibration, and culture design system had to be flexible enough to work for each player, no matter their experience.

    Because this game and universe was new for North America, we had the opportunity to create a game ethos and community culture from the ground up. For us, this project was always more than making a wizard college. It was about changing larp culture to make one that was based on the feminist principles of value, care, and compassion. So, while the structure of the larp is very similar to College of Wizardry, the community design principles and the magical universe is unique. Larp designers are fundamentally experience designers. Often, we tend to concentrate on the organization aspects of the larp, e.g. logistics and scheduling. By design, we tend to think of lighting, sound, and other aspects of how the story will be told. What is often overlooked in design – or left to the “herd” – is how players will interact with each other, both in- and out-of-character. Since larp is experienced generally between two or more people, it is interesting that we often do not consider designing the community principles, norms, values, and behaviors that are expected of players and characters,((Lizzie Stark, “Building Larp Communities: Social Engineering for Good,” Leaving Mundania: Inside the World of Larp, last modified March 18, 2014. http://leavingmundania.com/2014/03/18/building-larp-communities-social-engineering-good/)) which fundamentally impact the experience of a larp. Yes, as designers we will post mission statements, creative visions, and even conduct policies, but how do we go about naming, modeling, teaching, and enforcing the game ethos and community culture that undergirds, predicates, and indeed makes possible the creative and artistic experience of the larp? This process must be intentional, and it must be designed and practiced by the participants so that they can express it. This article will discuss a system of techniques and mechanics developed or adapted for New World Magischola (NWM), a 4-day Nordic Style larp for 160 people, set in a magical universe specifically written for North America.

    New World Magischola’s design is based on the Opt-In/Opt-Out Design principles espoused by Johanna Koljonen((Johanna Koljonen, “Basics of Opt-In, Opt-Out Design Parts 1 and 2,” Patreon, https://www.patreon.com/posts/basics-of-opt-in-5808793)) and requires the consent of the player to have anything happen to their character. These principles of “no one can do anything to your character without your consent” and “you consent to role-play at the level of your individual comfort because you are in control of your character” are largely unheard of in North American larps pre-NWM, although they have been used and discussed in Nordic Larp communities((Lizzie Stark, “Player Safety in Nordic Games,” Leaving Mundania: Inside the World of Larp, last modified April 26, 2012, http://leavingmundania.com/2012/04/26/player-safety-in-nordic-games/)) for many years. Many North American larps operate on principles that discount bleed((Sarah Lynne Bowman, “Bleed: The Spillover Between Player and Character,” Nordiclarp.org, last modified March 2, 2015,
    https://nordiclarp.org/2015/03/02/bleed-the-spillover-between-player-and-character/)) between player and character, consider discussion about the player during a game to be evidence of bad roleplay or metagaming. Additionally, some players value ambushing and/or betrayal by gamemasters and other characters as the norm of play. Players of these games know that at any moment in any game a more powerful character could flash statistics and end your game, including killing your character. For very real in-game and off-game consequences, these players tend to have their guard up throughout the game, suspicious of the motives and honesty of other characters, and often of the players who portray them.

    Negotiated magical spells in NWM3. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.
    Negotiated magical spells in NWM3. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    We set out to create the opposite type of game by building on what College of Wizardry began. CoW uses consent-based spell mechanics, whereby the recipient of the spell decides its effects. The College of Wizardry design document overtly states that wizards have a variety of sexualities, working to normalize a variety of relationships and identities at the game.((Rollespilsfabrikken and Liveform, “College of Wizardry Design Document,” Rollespilsfabrikken, last accessed September 6, 2016, http://www.rollespilsfabrikken.dk/cow/dd/designdocument.pdf (see p. 18, section on “Boys & Girls”).)) To design the game ethos and community culture for New World Magischola, we would:

    1. Use feminist and queer design principles to explicitly write a world and characters that showcases non-masculine, non-heterosexual identities in positions of power;
    2. Write character and player norms that value self-determination, autonomy, and expression of identity, and;
    3. Write mechanics that both establish and reinforce a community of care.
    A vampire and a poltergeist pretend to face off in NWM4. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.
    A vampire and a poltergeist pretend to face off in NWM4. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    This article discusses the workshops and mechanics used in New World Magischola to establish and reinforce a baseline culture of empathy and compassion for fellow players.((Maury Brown and Benjamin A. Morrow, “Breaking the Alibi: Fostering Empathy by Reuniting Player and Character,” Wyrd Con Companion Book 2015 (Los Angeles, CA: Wyrd Con), https://www.dropbox.com/s/xslwh0uxa544029/WCCB15-Final.pdf?dl=0 )) This ethos and environment was necessary in order for players to feel safe and able to take the risks that role-play requires, particularly play that is in a completely different style than most of our players were used to experiencing. Subsequent pieces will look at the feminist and queer design principles and how they were aligned through world-building, characters, workshops, and mechanics. These topics are intertwined, but looking at the discrete mechanics created or adapted for New World Magischola demonstrates not only how players accessed the game, but also how they discovered a new way of playing that valued them as individuals and as members of a community collaborating to create a powerful and transformative experience.

    Community Design is a System — with Rules and Mechanics

    First of all, we have to acknowledge that these techniques are game mechanics. We often like to state that Nordic larps don’t have rules or mechanics. It is true that these larps don’t have skill calls and points and hierarchies, what are often referred to as mechanics. But as Johanna Koljonen and John Stavropoulos remind us in a recent Game to Grow webisode on Emotionally Intense Play, Calibration, and Safety,((Maury Brown, Johanna Koljonen, Lizzie Stark, John Stavropoulos, moderated by Sarah Lynne Bowman, “Episode 2: Emotionally Intense Play, Calibration, and Community Safety,” Game to Grow Webisode Project, YouTube, last modified September 1, 2016, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3YtRJd5CR2I)) it’s a mistake not to think about safety, calibration, and culture-building tools as mechanics. They are systematized and symbolic actions, norms – and, dare we say, rules – for accessing and regulating play. They are, at their definitional heart, mechanics that govern player and character interaction. It’s time we recognized the tools used to create and moderate safety, play calibration, and community culture as the mechanics they are.

    The mechanics featured in this article and pre- and post-game workshops at NWM were developed by Maury Brown, Sarah Lynne Bowman, and Harrison Greene. They were implemented — and revised and re-implemented based on player and staff input — at the four runs of New World Magischola held in June and July of 2016. Each game had roughly 160 players, so these mechanics were tested and evaluated on approximately 600-700 players who came from 40 US states, several Canadian provinces, and four European countries. The eight safety, culture, and calibration mechanics used at New World Magischola discussed in this piece are:

    1. Normalizing a culture of Player Care: “Players are more important than games”;
    2. Normalizing off-game moments for player negotiations using “Off-game”;
    3. Checking-In with fellow players using the “OK Check-In”;
    4. Slowing or stopping roleplay using “Cut” and “Largo”;
    5. Graceful exits and calibration using “Lookdown”;
    6. Negotiating physical roleplay (aggression and sexuality);
    7. Pronoun Choice, Placement, and Correction, and;
    8. Full opt-out of romantic play using a sticker on the nametag.

    Additionally, this article will discuss the inclusion of the metagame characters of in-game/off-game Counselors, who were responsible for participant care.

    New World Magischola students work together to heal a professor of a previously uncurable curse. Photo courtesy of Learn Larp LLC.
    New World Magischola students work together to heal a professor of a previously uncurable curse. Photo courtesy of Learn Larp LLC.

    New World Magischola had four hours of workshops prior to the game beginning. The workshops used at NWM were explicitly designed to teach the safety, calibration, and opt-in/opt-out mechanics of the game. We would have preferred to have used even more time for workshops, and some player comments in the post-game survey corroborated this preference, but we were managing both player expectations and venue constraints with the four hour timeframe. In North America, with the exception of the small group of people who have experienced Nordic-style or freeform larps either in Europe or in small pockets at conventions in the US, larps do not have either pre-game workshops or post-game debriefs. Participants come to weekend or multi-day larps to play, and the concept of off-game workshops was both new and subject to a great degree of skepticism. We had to work to sell the concept of the workshops and to explain that they were an integral, and indeed mandatory, part of the game experience. ((We had one instance of a player deciding on their own to skip the workshops (unbeknownst to organizers), who then proceeded to have a disastrous first few hours in the game, causing conflicts with several other players. This was directly because they did not know how to play, and their interactions with others were toxic as a result. This incident prompted organizers to create a makeup policy for workshops, barring entry to the game until a player who had missed workshops had met with organizers to learn the ethos and safety techniques described in this article. This doesn’t fully make up for the workshops, since they do not have the opportunity to form relationships with fellow players, but it at least covers the basic game system and ethos. We did not feel we could tell people they could not play the larp at all if they missed workshops, as some were delayed due to travel problems outside of their control. However, in many larp situations, we would support barring playing the game at all if a player does not attend workshops.)) The four hours allowed us to get through much of what we needed to workshop. However, one of the takeaways from the four NWM runs is that six hours of workshops would be preferable in order to expand the negotiated physical role-play portion, both for greater specificity and for more intentional practice and modeling. More time would also have allowed for the additional development of character ties. The larp also featured a designated Sanctuary space where players could go for off-game quiet, rest, refueling, or conversation, as needed.

    Greene running a workshop in NWM 1. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.
    Greene running a workshop in NWM 1. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    1. Normalizing a Culture of Player Care

    In many gaming cultures, the game is considered paramount. Players will make decisions regarding their own safety, comfort level, and needs by considering the impact on the game or their characters first, and the impact on themselves second (or even last). Breaking character is frowned upon, as is admitting player needs or emotions, which are seen as interrupting the game. While many larps have procedures for physical safety and mechanics to use if someone breaks an ankle or hits their head, the majority of North American larps do not have systems in place to account for a player’s psychological or emotional comfort and safety. In some cultures, attempts by players to opt-out of certain types of play, or to problematize certain themes — such as sexual violence — as triggering results in in- or off-game consequences, or a perceived assault on the game’s creative vision. Recent changes, such as Mind’s Eye Society’s summer 2016 ban on rape and sexual assault in World of Darkness games, are increasing the discussion around player safety and care within gaming communities and fictions.

    At New World Magischola, we had to introduce, reiterate, and enforce this reversal of importance: Players were the most important element, not the game.((Maury Brown, “Player-Centered Design,” Keynote at Living Games Conference 2016, YouTube, last accessed June 10, 2016, https://youtu.be/oZY9wLUMCPY )) Players were urged to put self-care first. Self-care included physical needs such as sleep and hydration, but also individual psychological and emotional needs. Players were continually told that no one can make them role-play something or participate in something without their consent, and that no one can cause their character to experience something that they do not find interesting. The culture of this larp worked as the reverse of most mainstream North American larps: player autonomy and choice trumped “game needs” and the mechanics both encouraged and enforced this principle. Players faced no adverse in-game or off-game consequences for choosing self-care; in fact, it was celebrated. Once players realized self-care was the norm, they felt more comfortable exercising the other techniques described below, which specifically helped them make self-care calibration choices.

    Students show empathy for a chupacabra in NWM3. The rights of parasapient creatures are a major subject of debate in the larp. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.
    Students show empathy for a chupacabra in NWM3. The rights of parasapient creatures are a major subject of debate in the larp. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    2. Normalizing Off-game Moments for Player Negotiations Using the Cue “Off-game”

    This mechanic may seem very simple, but we needed to establish that it was not only okay to pause the game for a moment, but we actually preferred players to do so in order to clarify or negotiate. For many players accustomed to the norms of campaign boffer larps and MES vampire larps, “breaking game” is anathema and players are expected to either guess at levels of interaction, be surprised by them, or to tough through off-game player needs for fear of being derided or ostracized for breaking character and “ruining” someone else’s game. The mere idea of quick off-game negotiations was already a change for our player base, as was the idea that such negotiations were considered normal and helpful, not “bad roleplay.”

    The idea of an off-game symbol was known to most US larpers, where it is often used to pass unmolested through a camp because you are not “in play” at the moment, e.g. you cannot be attacked. We elected to piggyback on a known symbol, raising one’s fist to the forehead to signal “Off-game,” and to use the word “Off-game” to signal that the following conversation was between players and not characters. The hand-signal was intended to be more of a shortcut and to be used to signal at a distance, and the use of the verbal cue “off-game” was more for use during character interactions, but we did not make it as clear as we should have that one could be used without the other. We had to calibrate after the first two NWM runs when some players kept their fists on their foreheads during an entire off-game conversation, which was fidelity to the mechanic, but not necessary. To avoid players having their hands on their heads so often – an action that some found immersion-breaking since it is unusual for “normal” behavior – we clarified that it was a quick signal and then the hand could be lowered or one could simply use the phrase “off-game.” I prefer reliance on the verbal cue, “off-game,” but the hand signal does retain some utility for loud situations or use at a distance. It’s important to think about players’ access to the tools and to have alternative versions, e.g. in case the audible one can’t be heard or the gesture can’t be made due to hands being unavailable.

    A poltergeist disturbs a Magical Theory and Ethics class in NWM4. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.
    A poltergeist disturbs a Magical Theory and Ethics class in NWM4. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    NWM piloted two new safety, culture and calibration techniques: a revised version of the “Check-In” with fellow players and the “Lookdown.”

    3. Checking-In with Fellow Players Using the “OK Check-In”

    This technique uses a discreet hand movement of making the “OK” symbol at another player, who is then tasked with responding in one of three ways: thumbs up, thumbs down, or a flat hand/“so-so” gesture. Flashing the “OK” symbol as a gesture to indicate concern for another player appears to have developed as emergent play in some US larp circles in 2009 or 2010. Rob McDiarmid reported using it at a game around that time and Aaron Vanek and Kirsten Hageleit later used the “OK” symbol to check in with each other during larps in Southern California. The Texas game Planetfall has used a version of the Okay symbol for the last couple of years. The current version of this response system — thumbs up, thumbs down, or flat hand — was unique for New World Magischola, although Koljonen writes of its recent use in the American run of the Nordic Vampire larp End of the Line here.

    The Check-In Procedure:

    1. Player 1 flashes the “OK” symbol — with the thumb and index finger touching in an “o” and the other three fingers extended upward — to another player and establishes eye contact. This gesture means “Are you okay?”
    2. Player 2 responds to the signal with one of three responses:
      1. Thumbs-up, which means “Doing fine, no need for follow-up.”
      2. Thumbs-down, which means “I am not okay.” Player 1 should respond by asking if the player needs to see the in-game/off-game counselor or go to the off-game room.
      3. Flat hand, which means “I am not sure.” Player 1 should still respond by asking if the player needs to see the counselor or go to the off-game roomcheckin
      4. Additionally, a player could proactively flash the “OK” signal when displaying strong emotions, taking a break alone, or role-playing choking or a seizure, for example, to let approaching others know this was role-play.

    The “Check-In” by using the OK symbol was beneficial because often it is difficult to tell whether a person is performing convincing role-play, or is in actual physical or emotional distress. Sometimes, a character is sobbing, but a player is having a good time. Sometimes, the player is sobbing because they are triggered or emotionally overwhelmed.((Maury Elizabeth Brown, “Pulling the Trigger on Player Agency: How Psychological Intrusions in Larps Affect Game Play,” Wyrd Con Companion Book 2014 (Los Angeles, CA: Wyrd Con), https://www.dropbox.com/s/3yq12w0ygfhj5h9/2014%20Wyrd%20Academic%20Book.pdf?dl=0 )) If we simply assume that a player is role-playing unless they reach out, then we miss the opportunity to care for a fellow player. Also, players in distress are often too overwhelmed, embarrassed, or afraid to risk reaching out to another player. This proactive mechanic encouraged players to check-in with each other. It was easy to flash an “OK” symbol to the player alone in the corner. This gesture could be done non-verbally, from a reasonable distance, without a full interruption for either player, and obtain a quick mental calibration by the player, who then responds in a similarly discreet and unobtrusive way. It’s designed to be player-to-player communication without causing large breaks in character play.

    Students model "thumbs up" with an ethics professor in NWM4. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.
    Students model “thumbs up” with an ethics professor in NWM4. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    Some feedback suggested that the flat hand signal was redundant and not needed, since the result was the same as the thumbs-down signal. While this is true, we elected to keep the three-tiered response due to socialization both within the gaming community and in general society that makes it difficult for many people – particularly women and people from other marginalized groups – to demonstrate distress or ask for assistance. Too often, we will “power through” and state that we are fine, so as not to be a bother, not to admit weakness, or — in the case of some gaming and larp cultures — so as not to be subject to retaliation with direct accusations of not belonging, breaking the game, or needed to be “coddled.” It is far easier to give the “so-so” signal than the thumbs-down; in the absence of the middle option, with only the thumbs-up or thumbs-down choices, too many people would have just defaulted to thumbs-up, figuring they were feeling “not that bad.” When Vanek and Hageleit used the technique, they used it by flashing the “OK” sign, over the heart, and the other player was to respond with the same sign to indicate “I am okay.” In the current system, the responses to the “OK” sign were deliberately not the return of the “OK” sign. This mimicked response can be done reflexively without discernment, like returning a wave to someone. By creating the three responses, we required a thoughtful response from the players to assess their feelings and determine which of the three was appropriate.

    Players began using a hack for this technique in the final two runs: players were proactively using the “thumbs-down” symbol to indicate “I’m not okay,” rather than waiting for another player to check-in with them. This symbol would provoke the same response from another player: breaking play to assist them by escorting them to the counselor or the off-game room. We have now updated the system to include the use of a proactive “thumbs-down” to indicate distress or the need for assistance.

    4. Slowing or Stopping Role-play Using “Cut” and “Largo”

    Borrowing from the Nordic community, where kutt and brems — Cut and Break/Brake — are widely used, New World Magischola, like College of Wizardry, used the “Cut” mechanic. Any player could call Cut if they were in distress or needed play to stop immediately. Cut works like it does on a movie set: all action stops. Other players were instructed to step back and check-in with the player who called for the Cut and to determine if they needed to exit the scene; go to the off-game room or counselor; or address some other need.

    We elected not to use Break or Brake, as is more typical in the Nordic community because it is an imprecise mechanic, at least as typically understood in North America, where there is confusion whether the word means “break” as in stop, or take a break — and is thus confused with “cut” — or “brake” as in slow down, which begs the question to what degree and for how long. We dispensed with brake and used “largo” instead, a word borrowed from musical vocabulary where it means “go slow.” Any player could call “Largo” and the result was that co-players immediately toned it down a notch by lowering the intensity. Calling “Largo” did not require a follow-up check-in like using “Cut” did, nor did it require any explanation, nor should one be demanded. Largo is Largo, and when it was called, the intensity was lowered by everyone with no questions asked.

    A goblin journalist interviews a professor in NWM4. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.
    A goblin journalist interviews a professor in NWM4. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    We liked that “Largo” sounded like a spell, since this was a magic school, but we especially liked that it is an unusual word that isn’t used in common vocabulary, so it wouldn’t be lost in a conversation like the word Break can be. Largo was a clear indication that the intensity – whether it was anger, noise-level, flirting, etc. – needed to be lowered and slowed. Some players used it in one-on-one or small-group interactions, while others used it as a control measure in large groups, e.g. players who were talking over each other, or to quiet a boisterous group for more productive conversation and role-play. Feedback from the survey indicates that “Largo” was well-received and perceived as more clear and precise than “Break/Brake.”

    Cut Procedure:

    1. Player 1 calls “Cut.”
    2. Player 2 (or all players within hearing) immediately stop all role-play.
    3. Player 2 checks in with Player 1, focusing on their needs. No one asks for an explanation for why Cut was called, nor makes any comment whatsoever.
    4. Player 1 makes the decision to either exit the scene, return to the scene at a lower intensity, or go to the Sanctuary space.
    5. Play resumes among remaining players.
    A student club in NWM4. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.
    Students in NWM4. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    Largo Procedure:

    1. Player 1 calls “Largo.”
    2. Player 2 (or all players within hearing) take a step back, then lower the volume, or otherwise lower the intensity of the scene. No one asks for an explanation or comments. Stepping back was visual confirmation that “Largo” was heard and understood.
    3. Play continues at lessened intensity. It can continue uninterrupted, although an “OK Check-In” may be used to determine if newly calibrated play meets Player 1’s needs.

    5. Graceful Exits and Calibration Using “Lookdown”

    NWM piloted a new mechanic that Johanna Koljonen mentioned in her “Opt-in/Opt-out Safety Systems” keynote at the Living Games Conference in May 2016.((Johanna Koljonen, “Opt In/Opt Out Safety System,” Keynote at Living Games Conference 2016. YouTube, last modified June 10, 2016, https://youtu.be/7bFdrV3nJA8)) Lookdown was originally created by Trine Lise Lindahl and Koljonen in conversation earlier this year as a suggested technique for exiting a scene or conversation((Johanna Koljonen, “Toolkit: Let’s Name this Baby! (Bow-Out Mechanics),” Patreon, last modified May 30, 2016. https://participationsafety.wordpress.com/2016/05/30/toolkit-lets-name-this-baby-bow-out-mechanics/)) without causing as much disruption as calling for Cut, Break/Brake, or Largo. We called this simple gesture the “Lookdown” and it consists of placing one’s hand on one’s forehead, as if shading one’s eyes from the sun, looking down, and then stepping back and walking away. No questions asked, no explanation needed or demanded and no consequences given.((Matthew Webb notes that a similar gesture, exiting a scene by putting the hand on the back of the head and lowering one’s gaze, is used at his larp, Planetfall. However, Planetfall has in place an adjudication system so that if one player feels another player is abusing the bow-out mechanic to avoid in-game consequences, they can see a Gamemaster who will make a ruling and narrate a consequence.))

    Lookdown Procedure:

    1. Player 1 shields their eyes and walks away.
    2. Player 2 (and all other players) continue play as usual.

    We decided to implement Lookdown as a useful calibration and self-care tool for when someone realizes that a topic or scene isn’t going in a direction they want, is something they aren’t interested in playing, or is something that they may find triggering or troublesome. When using the Lookdown, a player isn’t signalling that they need or require assistance, or is any distress. They are simply making a choice to opt-out of the scene at the moment for whatever in- or off-game reason. No explanation will be asked or given, and all other players must accept their departure. Players were instructed, “If you see someone holding their hand over their eyes, ignore them.” This technique was practiced in pre-game workshops.

    Johanna Koljonen patterns an early version the Lookdown method on her blog, Participation Safety.
    Johanna Koljonen patterns an early version the Lookdown method on her blog, Participation Safety. https://participationsafety.wordpress.com

    Leaving a scene can be extremely difficult for many larpers, especially those from marginalized groups. It can be awkward at best, and draw unwanted attention to one’s self or character. It can be an action that one feels they have to explain or defend. Leaving a scene can draw comments or outrage from other players and, as a result, many players choose to stay in situations where they do not feel comfortable. By using the Lookdown, players can gracefully exit, no questions asked, and choose what they wish to play. This mechanic could be used even in situations where there was an in-game imbalance of power between the player using Lookdown and the other players, such as in class. A professor could not penalize a student for exiting class via the Lookdown mechanic. No in-game or off-game consequences of any sort were possible for using the technique. As a result, many players told us that they felt more comfortable being able to choose what scenes they wanted to experience.

    Another use of the Lookdown mechanic was players using it to arrive into scenes rather than exit them, including arriving late to class. Many players told us they had anxiety over being late to an event, scene, or even a conversation. They were afraid of being called out, having to explain themselves in front of the group, or losing House Points. This anxiety was so great that some skipped classes and/or stayed in their dorm rooms out-of-character if they were late, even though they really wanted to go. By using the Lookdown mechanic, a player could arrive to class and the response was the same “no questions asked” as if they had just been there the whole time. Alternately, players could opt-in to roleplay where they could make a scene of being late to class or a meeting (no Lookdown hand). By using the mechanic, they could slip in and choose the role-play they wanted.

    6. Negotiating Physical Role-play (Aggression, Violence, Combat, Sexuality)

    Because this larp operated on the principle of Opt-In with Consent, players needed to negotiate outcomes, desires, and boundaries before entering physical role-play. Negotiation was also required for the results of certain types of magic, such as healing.

    The above video shows the techniques of “off-game” signaling and negotiating so that both players know how to play a scene requiring healing. As demonstrated, without negotiation, the approaching player may have healed the person too quickly when the receiver wanted to role-play being in pain, or otherwise might have ended a scene or surprised the player with an unwanted result.

    Players were coached that when dealing with matters of sexuality, violence, aggression, or combat, they should use the “off-game” cues, take a step back, and discuss what they wanted and were comfortable playing. Only when both parties had agreed on boundaries and outcomes should play resume. If no physical touch was discussed as permissible, then it was not to occur.

    Members of House Laveau in NWM4. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.
    Members of House Laveau in NWM4. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    Due to the length of the workshops, we did not provide a specific process for negotiating, although we did give an example negotiation for asking someone to the dance in the Player’s Guide. This process got more specific as the four runs of NWM progressed and we realized that players required a detailed process for negotiation of consent and boundaries. The main issue was that their negotiations were not specific enough. As a hypothetical example, a player might ask, “Are you okay with physical role-play?” and the other player, imagining pushing and shoving perhaps, states “yes.” The first character proceeds to slap the second character in the face, which the second player is not okay experiencing. So, while we found that players were negotiating, without coaching, modeling, and practice of a specific negotiation process, there was opportunity for miscommunication between the parties. These issues were then generally resolved using the other care mechanics, such as OK Check-In. However, by improving the specific nature of the negotiations through workshopping, this mechanic can be improved in future runs. We would like to extend the pre-game workshops by one or two hours primarily for this reason.

    7. Pronoun Choice, Placement, and Correction

    Sara Williamson (here as a Dubois student) and Liz Gorinsky (here as a revived House Ghost) in NWM4, who helped develop the pronoun workshop. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.
    Sara Williamson (here as a Dubois student) and Liz Gorinsky (here as a revived House Ghost) in NWM4, who helped develop the pronoun workshop. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    Pronouns matter. A player who is continually misgendered experiences immersion breaks in their role-play at best and triggered gender dysphoria at worst. Sometimes, a player portrays a character with a different pronoun than they use as a player for a variety of reasons. Assuming pronouns for a player or a character can lead to trouble. To avoid pronoun assumption, the triggering effects of misgendering, and the sometimes troublesome process of correcting a misused pronoun, NWM used an intertwined system of four techniques:

    1. All characters were written in the second person with a single initial for the first name and no gender markers indicated. Players could play any character as any gender they chose and pick their own name.
    2. We made “they” the default pronoun of the magical world, which was used unless told differently.
    3. All players had player nametags and character nametags, both with player-chosen pronouns clearly displayed under the name, in a large enough font to be seen at a conversational distance.
    4. A pronoun correction mechanic was modeled and practiced in the workshops, for when mistakes happen.

    Players were asked to assume that other players had the best intentions and were attempting to use the correct pronouns — as was the in-game and off-game norm — and to use those instances to demonstrate a quick, non-judgmental pronoun correction. When someone uses an incorrect pronoun in reference to you or your character, players were taught, “If you make a mistake, and use the wrong pronouns in spite of your good intentions, the best response is to acknowledge the mistake, correct, and continue the conversation.” This technique was used for both in-game and off-game interactions and was developed in consultation with Liz Gorinsky and Sara Williamson, co-authors of the larp See Me Now, which explores queer identities.

    Pronoun Correction Procedure:

    The British sign language P. Photo from British-sign.co.uk.
    The British sign language P. Photo from British-sign.co.uk.
    1. Player 1 accidentally uses the incorrect pronoun to refer to someone.
    2. Player 2 says the word “Pronouns” and shows the P hand signal, derived from the British sign language symbol for the letter P. If the player does not have both hands available, they can just use the verbal cue “Pronouns.”
    3. Player 2 follows the verbal cue and hand signal with the correct pronoun for Player 1 to use.
    4. Player 1 says “Thank you” for the reminder. Play or conversation resumes

    8. Opting-out of Romantic Play Using a Sticker on the Nametag

    By the fourth run of NWM, we realized there were some players there for whom any flirtatious or romantic interactions created player stress, and who preferred not to play on those themes at all. This feeling was for a variety of reasons, including not wanting to have those interactions so they could focus on other plots and themes. We gave players the opportunity to place a 0.5” (13 mm) colored circle sticker on their nametag, which indicated “I am not interested in romantic or sexual interactions.” Players wearing that sticker were not be approached for any role-play that dealt with romance or sexuality. The stickers functioned as a full opt-out of that type of play by the player and were easily visible to others from a distance. Players could point to the sticker as a reminder if mistakes occurred. We heard from some asexual and aromantic players that this practice was particularly inclusive and normalized their identities. However, many players used the sticker to opt-out of romance play, not just those identifying as asexual or aromantic. By having the sticker, a player not interested in romance or sex was spared having to repeatedly use the other mechanics in this system.

    Students take dance lessons with the Chancellor in NWM3. Photo courtesy of Learn Larp LLC.
    Students take dance lessons with the Chancellor. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    The Counselors: Metagame Characters Responsible for Participant Care

    Because we knew the majority of our players were either first-time larpers or larpers who had not played in the Nordic-style, we anticipated that players would need access to organizers who could assist them with their logistical, fictional, physical and emotional needs. With 160 players spread out over a 320-acre campus, we recognised that, even without deliberately creating challenging content, we’d have a statistically certain number of players who would have need of some kind of emotional support. In addition, since the result of several of the mechanics listed above was to walk the other player to a counselor, to the Sanctuary space, or to the off-game room, we needed to create additional points of interaction for when the off-game room was a 30-minute walk away, unnavigable for some players even in their best situation.

    In anticipation of these needs, two characters were written into the game to serve as in-game liaisons for players. Written as NPCs at the faculty level, the counselors had free range of any classroom or meeting, and maintained a visible presence throughout the game as people characters could approach if they needed to talk. They functioned in-game as a school and career counselor, roles that make sense in a college environment. In-game, a character could speak with a counselor about their career, classes, a conflict with another character, worry about the dance, or any other life decision. At any moment in the conversation, counselors could switch to off-game conversation if the player required it. Sometimes players visiting the counselor needed to role-play into admitting needing off-game care, so this meta-function eased their transition. It also gave a plausible diegetic reason for being upset or leaving a scene by simply saying “I need to see the counselor.” Exiting a scene that is no longer fun or is making one uncomfortable can be hard to do; having an in-game reason to do so that was accepted by all characters, no matter their in-game power, was a helpful resource.

    The Divination professor (left) helps solve a time magic mystery with the two counselors (Greene and Bowman) in NWM4.
    The Divination professor (left) helps solve a time magic mystery with the two counselors (Greene and Bowman) in NWM4. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    Conclusion

    While design visions, larp community guidelines, harassment policies, and codes of conduct help establish norms, they do not help players know how to enact the behaviors required to meet those visions, policies, and norms. Creating mechanics to break down expected behaviors into discrete steps, modeling them, practicing them, and then enforcing them with consequences if they are not used is required to bring a vision of an ethos and norms to life through interactions and play.

    While these techniques and mechanics are neither perfect nor portable to all games, the aggregate toolkit does represent a step forward for systematic design of safety, calibration, and culture in larps. The careful attention to naming, modeling, teaching, practicing, and enforcing behaviors that create the norms that we wished to create for in-game and off-game interactions was a deliberate design choice. Many of these techniques formed the basis of the workshops and safety and calibration techniques we helped design for the End of the Line run at the Grand Masquerade in New Orleans, a White Wolf Vampire: the Masquerade Nordic-style larp organized by Bjarke Pedersen, Juhana Pettersson, and Johanna Koljonen with help from Sarah Lynne Bowman and Harrison Greene. We have heard from other players and designers that they are using some of these mechanics — such as the “OK Check-in” — in their larps, and we have heard from some NWM players that they are using some of these same techniques in their everyday life relationships and jobs.

    Role-playing requires taking risks. Safety and calibration techniques create a measure of assurance, empathy, and trust among players that helps them feel able to take the risks they must to portray a character, feel emotions, and engage with others. Many players remarked that they felt more safe and comfortable with the fellow players of NWM — who they had not known previously — than they do in everyday interactions. Their reasoning is that they knew fellow players would support their boundaries and choices. Others told us they felt more cared from these erstwhile strangers than they do in familial and friend interactions in their everyday life. Having someone check-in to be sure you’re doing OK is powerful. Negotiating consent is powerful. Being able to make choices about one’s own needs without receiving retaliation is powerful. While this may not be the everyday world our participants’ experience, it is the “new world” we wish to create. For the duration of the larp at the very least, players were transported into this new world of magic, not just with their wands and spells, but also because of the way they cared for themselves and others using these safety and calibration mechanics.

    Casa Calisaylá celebrates winning the House Cup in NWM3. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.
    Casa Calisaylá celebrates winning the House Cup in NWM3. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    For other articles on this site about New World Magischola, see Tara Clapper’s “Chasing Bleed – An American Fantasy Larper at Wizard School” and Sarah Lynne Bowman’s “When Trends Converge – The New World Magischola Revolution.”


    Cover photo: Casa Calisaylá initiation ritual in NWM3. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.


    New World Magischola

    Date: June 16-19, June 23-26, July 21-24 and July 28-31, 2016

    Location: University of Richmond in Richmond, Virginia, United States

    Duration: 4 days including workshops, play, and debriefing

    Participants: 140-165 per run

    Participation Fee: $375 to $895, $450 for a regular ticket

    Website: https://magischola.com/

    Credits

    Producers: Maury Brown and Ben Morrow, Learn Larp LLC.

    Make-up Lead: Katherine Kira “Tall Kat” McConnell. Prosthetics by Mark Mensch

    Costuming Lead: Derek Herrera.

    Stitchers: Jenny Underwood, Robin Jendryaszek, Jennifer WinterRose, Amber Feldman, Summer Donovan, Michele Mountain, Nancy Calvert-Warren, Jennifer Klettke, Kristen Moutry, Caryn Johnson, Datura Matel

    Music: Original songs (lyrics and music) by Austin Nuckols (Maison DuBois, Lakay Laveau, Casa Calisaylá and House Croatan) and Leah K. Blue (Dan Obeah), lyrics to New World Magischola Anthem by Maury Brown and Ben Morrow, music by Austin Nuckols. Other music and sound by Evan Torner and Austin Shepherd

    Props: Mike Young, Carrie Matteoli, Indiana Thomas, Summer Donovan, Kevin Donovan, Gordon Olmstead-Dean, Jason Morningstar, Matt Taylor, Molly Ellen Miller, Michael Boyd, Moira Parham, Martin John Manco, Ken Brown, Dale, Laura Young, Harry Lewis, Mark Daniels, Michael Pucci, Terry Smith of Stagecoach Theater Productions, Yvonne and Dirk Parham, Jen Wong, Caryn Johnson, Jess Pestlin, Orli Nativ, Kaitlin Smith, The Center for the Arts of Greater Manassas at the Candy Factory, Melissa Danielle Penner, Jess Sole, Liselle Awwal, Nathan Love.

    Helpers and advisors: Anders Berner, Claus Raasted, Christopher Sandberg, Mike Pohjola, Bjarke Pedersen, Johanna Koljonen, Anne Serup Grove, Mikolaj Wicher, Jamie MacDonald, Eevi Korhonen, Markus Montola, Jaakko Stenros, Staffan Rosenberg, Anna Westerling, Michael Pucci, Ashley Zdeb, Emily Care Boss, Daniel Hocutt, Charles Bo Nielsen, Joe Ennis, Kristin Bezio, Rob Balder, Kat Jones, Sarah Lynne Bowman, Harrison Greene.

    Assistance with writing, editing, graphic design, music, art: Frank Beres, Claus Raasted, Richard Wetzel, Bethy Winkopp, Oriana Almquist, Craig Anderson, Zach Shaffer, Erica Schoonmaker, Madeleine Wodjak, Toivo Voll, Marie DelRio, Mike Young, Laura Young, Anna Yardney, Lee Parmenter, Stephanie Simmons, Nancy Calvert-Warren, Jessica Acker, Jason Woodland, Jason Arne, Harrison Greene, Sarah Lynne Bowman, Kristi Kalis, Quinn Milton, Anna Kovatcheva, Browning Porter, Orli Nativ, Rhiannon Chiacchiaro, Miranda Chadbourne, Lars Bundvad, Ffion Evans, David Horsh, Dani Castillo, Frank Caffran Castillo, Dayna Lanza, Sarah Brand, Tara Clapper, Suzy Pop, David Neubauer, Chris Bergstresser, Jason Morningstar, Evan Torner, Peter Woodworth, Peter Svensson, Daniel Abraham, Harry Lewis, Alexis Moisand, Alissa Erin Murray, Jennifer Klettke, Kathryn Sarah, Elsa Sjunneson-Henry, Austin Nuckols, Leah Blue, Joelle Scarnati, Dan Luxenberg, Chad Brinkley, David Clements, Niels Ull Harremoës, Adria Kyne, Emily Heflin.

    Production and logistics: Austin Shepherd, Claus Raasted, Olivia Anderson, Kristin Bezio, Shayna Alley, Mike Young, Zach Shaffer, Dayna Lanza, Derek Herrera, Kristin Moutrey, Jenny Underwood, Jennifer WinterRose, Caryn Johnson, Amber Feldman, Michele Mountain, Summer Donovan, Robin Jendryaszek, Jennifer Klettke, Datura Metel, Amanda Schoen, Mark Mensch, Katherine McConnell, Chris Bergstresser, Christopher Amherst, Holly Butterfield, Uriah Brown, Kyle Lian, Evan Torner, Jeff Moxley, Ashley Zdeb, Thomas Haynes, Mikolaj Wicher, Charles Bo Nielsen, Jamie Snetsinger, Claire Wilshire, David Donaldson, Brandy Dilworth and the staff of the University of Richmond Summer Conference Services office.

  • Hinterland – The Will to Survive

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    Hinterland – The Will to Survive

    By

    Sebastian Utbult

    Hinterland was set a few years in the future: a future in which war has destroyed much of society and the infrastructure of modern civilization. Millions of Swedes now live in overcrowded refugee camps scattered around the countryside, at the mercy of ad-hoc crisis authorities, whose resources are stretched way too thin. Life in the camps is harsh and many die of disease, malnutrition, or violence. But there is nowhere else to go.

    The real disaster is yet to come, however. A few years into the crisis, a new disease starts spreading. The overpopulated camps and their malnourished inhabitants have no chance. Over the course of six months, almost the entire population of Sweden has succumbed to the disease, whether in camps or elsewhere. Hinterland was about a group of refugees from such a camp, who have fled in panic as the disease burned through the population. With nothing but the clothes on their bodies, and weakened by years of malnutrition, abuse, and trauma, they have marched off into the wilderness, hoping to get away from the disease.

    HinterlandWe designed Hinterland to challenge the basic comforts most of us are used to at larps. We wanted the game to be physically challenging and really uncomfortable, and we told the players to bring as little as possible, even removing a few items from players before the larp. We actively encouraged players to steal things, even items like sleeping gear or food. The idea was to make the players feel like they didn’t have any resources at all, and to force them into scavenging from the start. The game area was an old farm in the middle of nowhere, where we had hidden items that they could make use of: things like food stashes, blankets, and tools.

    To reach the farm, which was unknown to the players before the larp, they had to walk a few kilometers down a country road. That was how the larp started: a gruelling walk on empty bellies.

    Our idea was to have the players scrounge around the farm once they reached it, and to have them ration or divvy up the resources. They also had to figure out whether they could build or improve the farm for an extended stay, or if they should just take what they could use and move on. Would players hoard or hide resources, or would they pool them together to give everyone a chance to survive? Would they fight over food? Would the characters that thought of themselves as “good” act in a selfish way, and vice versa? Would they act as a collective or would they divide into groups? What would happen to the traumatized refugees once they found relative security, a hot meal, and time to process their experiences? And what would happen once one of them started showing symptoms of disease?

    During the larp, we had a few NPC scenes. One was an unexpected visit by a group of thugs who rolled in with guns and dogs and stole anything lying around, including food and blankets. The idea was for the players to feel a bit better about their situation once they had found some food and other items, only to have it brutally taken away from them again. Another NPC scene was when two visitors from a farm a few miles away came by to check in on the former inhabitants of the farm, who were now dead from the same disease running rampant in the camps. The larp ended with a group from the remnants of the local authority arriving to perform quarantine duties (at which point many players ran off into the woods).

    It amazed me how quickly the condition of our clothing and general appearance deteriorated. We all looked pretty disgusting in the end, but I still felt like a person on the inside. The point is that we looked very much like the people I see begging outside my local food store, and the tarp we put up for shelter during the larp looked like the shelters built by the people who come here to beg to provide for their families. So, today, when I see someone begging, or see the refugees arriving with all their belongings in a plastic bag, I remember this disturbing discrepancy between my outside and my inside and I figure it must be similar for them – the feeling that the people who are clean and well fed will not be able to see who I am behind the dirt and grime, they will not be able to respect me for my achievements or envy me my talents, because those things are invisible to them.

    Eva Meunier, participant

    Creating Survivors

    Character creation was left up to the players, in a process where they would answer around twenty specific questions about their character’s life before, during, and after the war. The questions were designed to streamline the character creation process and to get the participants thinking about the same issues, while leaving out things that weren’t relevant to the story to be told. “Where were you when the war came?” “What kind of person were you before the war?” “Have you done anything to survive that you are not proud of?” Players then asked to have their character reviewed and accepted. Players could request coaching if they felt they needed input or direction. In some cases, organisers did not approve of a suggested character. In these cases, players got an assigned coach to help them build a more suitable character.

    Players were also required to create a few background relationships, shared memories, and a skjebne or fate, for their character. All of this was available through an online system, and players could read each other’s approved characters and build internal relationships. Players were encouraged to let their character design be completely transparent, but they could choose to keep some parts of their background accessible only to themselves and to the organizers. Some players choose this option for a few details of their characters. All fates were by design fully transparent, so as to increase the likelihood of them coming true.

    Today, as I’m eating breakfast and listening to the news of refugees being treated like shit in Libya, or when I see Facebook posts about beggars needing money in order to get home to their countries, I realize what this larp has really given me. Not awesome immersion and a heavy larp experience, but an aftertaste that leaves me defenseless when I hear about refugees and is now making me act instead of closing my eyes. Hinterland seems to have actually done what I was hoping it would do – making me more empathic (and acting on that empathy) to people in similar situations to what I’ve experienced. For me, there’s nothing better or greater this larp could have achieved than nudging people like me out of my comfort zone.

    Sofia Bertilsson, participant

    Hinterland

    Game Mechanics

    Hinterland was light on rules. We decided not to have any boffer weapons, instead using a combination of blank-firing guns – of which there was only one available to the larpers, with a total of two rounds of ammunition – and blunt weapons, such as rocks, hammers, etc. Weapons were used to pre-determine the outcome of a confrontation, similar to the Monitor Celestra rule of “the one with a gun controls the situation,” with our take being “the one with the largest rock controls the situation.”

    As for violence, we wanted to avoid pointless fighting for its own sake, and instead made violence have consequences. We also suggested and workshopped a system in which fighting was mostly about postures, escalating to a point where someone backs down, or brawls on the ground. Furthermore, players were made aware that their characters were weak from malnutrition and lack of sleep, and hence would not be able to take a beating. Our game was loosely divided into acts, where any violence used got increasingly more dangerous as the larp progressed. You could choose to die whenever you wanted to, but you were not allowed to kill other players until the last act.

    As the disease was a major plot element – “Am I infected?” “Is anyone else and how do we treat them?” – we devised a system in which a group of randomly selected players were picked from a list and flagged as “infected.” All the players received a small ziploc bag containing a pill – or three pills, at the second run – to take during the larp. If the pill contained salt, you started manifesting the disease, at which point you could go to the lavatory and apply red powder makeup to your armpits or chest, which symbolized the red rashes you got from the disease. This technique gave a lot of players a sense of dread when taking the pill, and for many who were infected, the taste of salt felt like a physical blow.

    The raiders have left, taking most of our scavenged food and blankets with them. Now a group is checking everyone for the disease. I’m slowly removing my stinking shirt and jacket when I see it, the tell-tale symptom: a bleeding rash on my stomach. God, please, no…

    JC Hoogendoorn, participant

    Because of things overlooked at the first run, we decided to let a few players from the first run play run two as well, with the off-game responsibility to “hack” or push players out of situations where we thought the game might get stuck. For example, players could hack instances where they saw a power dynamic or consensus in the game that killed off avenues of play to explore. An example was when everyone agreed on the most sane and rational solution early on and stuck to it, in a way that didn’t feel like decisions made by people who had been subjected to years of misery, were cold, exhausted, hungry, and afraid.

    Why?

    We have always been interested in “end of the world” scenarios, but also contemporary politics. Far-right and anti-immigrant ideologies are on the rise in Sweden, and we wanted to counter that in some way. One way in which we know we could attempt this was to have people experience just a tiny sliver of the life of a refugee for a short while. We didn’t believe that our larp would be anything close to the horrors that refugees encounter, but we hoped that giving players a tiny taste of the situation experienced right now by millions of people out there would give a better understanding of the hardships that war, and fleeing from war, can entail. We also wanted to make something that was “hardcore” in areas that usually go unchallenged at larps: like personal property, comfort, and basic stuff like food and sleeping quarters. And, finally, an aim of this project was to donate the proceeds of the larp to a Swedish organisation that helps refugees already rejected by the system: the paperless or underground refugees that are sometimes called “illegal.” This was our intent from the start, and something we were open about. In the end we managed to raise around €2,000 for that cause; an amount that we are very happy with.

    I just can’t stop thinking of the events and feelings I experienced this weekend and the events and feelings that the real refugees experienced at the same time. It’s hard to grip. And there is more than one million refugees for every participant at the larp. I’d like to thank everyone for this larp that made me think and feel so much. Now I have to make something of those thoughts and feelings. What that will be I do not yet know.

    Martin Gerhardsson, participant

    Hinterland

    Hinterland

    Credits: Sebastian Utbult, Olle Nyman, Erik Stormark, with the help of Karin Edman, Simon Svensson, Ida Eberg, Andreas Sigfridsson and others.

    Date: May 8–10 & May 22–24, 2015.

    Location: Rifallet, Sweden

    Duration: Around 40 hours, plus workshop.

    Participants: 40–45 per run (two runs total).

    Budget: €7,000

    Participation Fee: €50–€250 depending on income.

    Game Mechanics: Blunt weapons (representative), “phys-larping” violence, optional meta scene room, escalation/ de-escalation techniques, disease system, playing to lose, act structure.

    Website: http://beratta.org/hinterland/


    This article was initially published in The Nordic Larp Yearbook 2015 published by Rollespilsakademiet and edited by Charles Bo Nielsen, Erik Sonne Georg, et al.

    Cover photo: Refugees on the move (play, Sebastian Utbult). Other photos by Sebastian Utbult & Olle Nyman.

  • Hell on Wheels – Experience the Wild West

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    Hell on Wheels – Experience the Wild West

    By

    Tereza "Ciri" Staňková

    The Hell on Wheels larp is a dramatic game for 54 players that takes place in Stonetown, a western settlement in the Czech Republic. It draws its inspiration from the US AMC TV series of the same name. It borrows certain characters and introductory plots from the series, but handles them freely and places them into a broader context of the transcontinental railroad construction in 1866. The game takes approximately 20 hours and is preceded by roughly 5 hours of pre-game workshops and gun handling training.

    Our journey to the western-like larp started in 2013 and went through different concepts. Eventually, we chose to convey a dramatic, film-like experience to the players. We decided to make a genuine western stuffed with all the clichés, character archetypes, and scenes people remember from their favourite movies.

    There were gun fights, duels, brawls, prostitutes, Indians on horseback galloping across the plain, boxing matches, cancan in the saloon, whiskey… all emphasised by dramatic music, both recorded and live. On the one hand, the game was based on visually interesting dramatic scenes: on the other, it gives the players room to experience relationships, intrigue, powerful stories, personal dilemmas, and intimate scenes.

    Hell on Wheels is mainly about a film-like experience; nothing too psychologically complex. Everything is done for effect, the inspiration coming from the Hell on Wheels Season 2 is palpable, one cliché follows another – but it’s a damn western! They’ve given me exactly what they promised and what I wanted. Duels on a muddy street, brawls in the shadows, the howling of the Injuns riding past… What more could I ask for? Although it’s not completely shallow. Racial hatred, the machinations surrounding the election of the mayor and the personal tragedies of the Native Americans living in a white town, all that adds credibility and pathos to the story.

    Karel Cernín, player

    Production

    Negotiation with Indians.
    Negotiation with Indians.

    Since realistic scenery and the visual aspect were our priorities, finding an appropriate location for the game was crucial. We managed to find a western town: it is small, but perfect for our purposes since it is period enough. There is a saloon with a brothel, an office, a telegraph station, a store, a barbershop, a sheriff’s house. At the same time, there are sufficient conveniences: Players are accommodated in themed log cabins and modern sanitary facilities are available.

    By establishing a balance sheet, we found out that if we incurred a moderate debt, we would be able to overcome the chief obstacle and get realistic-looking, working guns that we found essential for the game. Horses are also involved. They are mainly mounted by the NPCs and their presence greatly contributes to the movie-like ambience of the larp. The ambience is also significantly enhanced by the use of pyrotechnics. It makes wells blow up and covers the town in smoke and fire after shoot-outs. Players had to get their own costumes and an overwhelming majority of them prepared their costumes with care and improved the overall visual level of the game.

    The first run was successfully held in the autumn of 2013. Visual promotion turned out to be crucial for a dramatic genre larp; stunning photos were one of the reasons why the game got plenty of the hype that enveloped the following Czech-language runs. When our game even started being mentioned abroad, we decided to risk additional time and resources and have an English-language run. The international run gave rise to several difficulties following from the blending of various larping cultures and different views of some of the delicate topics, namely racism and the gender question.

    We decided to make minor concessions in depicting racism – instead of dark make-up, the freedmen were marked symbolically – and to expand the pre-game workshops that allowed us to better transmit our notion of the game‘s principles, topics, and modes of playing. The players came from 12 different countries, mainly Italy, Denmark, and Sweden. For many of us, hearing English in the Hell on Wheels western town was the one last thing needed for our movie-larp dream to come true.

    By now, one international and four Czech runs have been played, endowing us with enough experience to assess the mechanics and topics employed. In the following sections, we will mention the principal ones.

    A prostitute flirting with railroad workers.

    Topics of the Game

    The game is set in 1866 in Nebraska, USA, and revolves around the construction of the transcontinental railway by the Union Pacific Railroad company. The tent camp of the workers and those who follow them – appropriately called the Hell on Wheels – is slowly turning into Durantown, a new settlement. Some of its inhabitants are getting ready to follow the construction when it moves further: the company is hurrying to build the railway line up to the target point before its competitor. Others, though, prefer to start a new life in the town, and there are also strangers whose intentions are unknown. On top of that, the company leadership abounds with intrigues, the threat of an open war with the local Cheyenne tribe is growing, and everything is influenced by a number of personal relationships ranging from love, faith, and friendship to revenge, racism, and madness.

    Upon the preparation of the game, we decided to make a single main story that involved everybody in one way or another. We worked together with a group of people who are involved in Native American re-enactment: they represent a major external danger that became a thread of the story. The main storyline was naturally densely bound with other plots – such as “the Indians know where the gold lies,” or “there is oil on the Indian land” – and with personal stories of individual characters, such as “a specific Indian killed my husband.”

    Animosity between different nations and ethnic groups constitutes a source of internal tension. Germans hate the Irish; Americans hate the Germans and the Irish; everybody scorns prostitutes and hates freedmen and Indians. This includes racism, the most controversial feature of the game for many players, specifically the play of the freedmen group and the Native American characters. It was not so much about enjoying a western movie, but rather about an inward experience of a racist environment. What was our goal? To transmit through personal experience the concept of racism and the way it works, and to stress its negative effects.

    Lazy afternoon on a porch.

    Focus on Drama

    Before describing the game mechanics we employed, it needs to be stressed that we decided to subordinate almost everything else to the effect brought about by drama and ambience. We aimed at creating a profoundly convincing atmosphere of the Wild West for the participants, so that they would – as one of them said – “go home with the feeling that they know what the Wild West was all about.”

    This is why we chose realistic guns – gas guns with acoustic ammunition – that behave like the real ones and also legitimately give the feeling of danger. For duels, we chose to base our game mechanics on body stances. Every gunslinger is given a number that determines the initial posture they start the fight in. The stances are known to all players, so each of the fighters knows before the duel whether they are going to win or lose. The shoot-outs were based on a dramatic acting out of the injury, according to the players’ own preferences with regard to the logic of a particular scene. Brawls and fights with padded cold-steel dummy weapons worked in a similar way.

    The larp also included a group of prostitutes and a number of romantic plots. Obviously, we had to find a way to act out sex scenes. We eventually chose the symbolism of pressing cheeks against each other and unbuttoning or removing a part of the costume or a costume accessory. We also set a mechanic for how both players can agree on a different and more daring way of acting out the scene without going off-game.

    The game is structured into four chapters. The first chapter starts with scripted scenes and for each of the following three chapters, several major events are prepared in which almost all the characters can be involved, actively or passively. These events are usually related to the main storyline or some of the smaller storylines of particular groups or characters. When we were writing the personal stories of the characters, we made sure that each character has a specific issue to tackle in every chapter: every player had a meta-game booklet with instructions for the beginning of each chapter that offered them ideas on what and how to play or simply assigned them a specific scripted scene.

    During the creation, we intertwined the storylines and prepared NPCs to intervene in the story if necessary. At the same time, there were several NPCs acting as normal player characters, serving to push the story forward or to help move plots that became stuck.

    We also used the mechanic of “barbers”: two organisers were available for players throughout the whole game to consult about their characters, the development of the story, etc. If a player needed to consult an important in-game decision with the organisers, did not know what to do, was bored, or needed to access a new plot, they could “go to the barber’s.” There, they could go off-game and discuss the matter with the organisers.

    Finally, I would like to mention one more concept: double characters. Some players’ characters were intended to stay in the game only for half of the game. In the second part, the players arrived to town as new characters. The aim was to make some conflicts escalate in the middle of the game and, at the same time, enable some players to play two different characters, somehow indirectly, but meaningfully related to each other, thereby offering the player the opportunity to approach an issue from two different points of view. The idea received a favourable response, and it turned out that it might be an interesting alternative for players who don‘t mind a limited space for developing their plot and a scripted end of their first character.

    It’s not wheels that make it hell
    Just hear the song of the preacher’s bell
    Clouds are brown like cowboy’s spit
    Welcome to this hellish pit

    Tom Tychtl, player

    Indians attacking the town.

    Hell on Wheels

    Credits: Filip Appl, Tereza Staňková, Tomáš Dulka, Ondřej Staněk, Jan Zeman, Jaroslav Dostál, Veronika Dostálová, Tomáš Felcman, Jana Isabella Růžičková, Jan Teplý

    Dates: 5 runs in the years 2013-2015

    Location: Stonetown near Humpolec, the Czech Republic

    Duration: 2 days

    Participants: 54

    Budget: €3,600 for each Czech-language run, €6,200 for the international run

    Participation Fee: €60/€80 Czech-language run, €145 the international run (due to translation of the texts)

    Game Mechanics: Body postures in duels, meta instructions in players’ booklets

    Website: http://HowLARP.cz/


    This article was initially published in The Nordic Larp Yearbook 2015 published by Rollespilsakademiet and edited by Charles Bo Nielsen, Erik Sonne Georg, et al.

    All photos provided by the Hell on Wheels organizers.

  • When Trends Converge – The New World Magischola Revolution

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    When Trends Converge – The New World Magischola Revolution

    By

    Sarah Lynne Bowman

    Be the change! Break the chains! Change the world!

    Dan Obeah motto, New World Magischola Run 2

    New World Magischola is an American blockbuster larp produced by Learn Larp, LLC about students and faculty attending a wizard university in a new North American magical universe. Inspired by the hugely successful College of Wizardry larps at Czocha Castle in Poland, designers Maury Brown and Benjamin A. Morrow decided to bring a version of the larp to the United States. Bolstered in part by the media fervor around the College of Wizardry documentary((Cosmic Joke UK, “College of Wizardry – Documentary,” YouTube, last modified Dec 9, 2014, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oW0bi_XgMY0. See also the promo trailer: Cosmic Joke UK, ““College of Wizardry – Documentary Promo,” YouTube, last modified Dec 2, 2014, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qVL-ts38-Rs.)) by Cosmic Joke Productions that went viral on multiple media outlets((Johannes Axner, “College of Wizardry 2014 Round-up,” Nordiclarp.org, last modified Dec 9, 2014, https://nordiclarp.org/2014/12/09/college-of-wizardry-2014-round-up/.)) and by the designers’ own successful marketing, the Kickstarter for the larp raised an astounding $303,877. These funds went toward establishing the logistics for four runs of the larp in June and July of 2016 at the University of Richmond in Virginia. This article will discuss the first two runs of the game in June, where I served as a staff member and non player-character (NPC) counselor in the first run and House President player in the second.

    While this article will cover some of the content of the game, the focus of this discussion will center upon the culture that has emerged around New World Magischola through intentional design and player contributions. Based upon initial blog posts and Internet discussions, the game appears to be inspiring a paradigmatic shift in many participants about the nature of larp, what sorts of experiences it can produce, and what kinds of community standards a play culture can establish. Therefore, this article will discuss the following topics within these contexts: basic game logistics, my personal narrative as a player, the progressive design goals, the consent-based play culture, and the relative success of introducing Nordic-style larp to a primarily North American audience. I will not discuss specific plotlines in the interest of protecting spoilers for future runs.

    LUV_6804 2
    College of Wizardry producer Claus Raasted as the Chancellor in NWM1.

    While this game stands as a landmark on its own, I invite readers to consider this information as a convergence of trends that have been building for the last several years: increased communication between North American larpers and international players through Facebook, blogs, and other social media channels; innovations in North American indie game design; other cross-cultural collaborations including College of Wizardry; a greater interest in establishing safety, consent, and calibration around play; and the continued development of academic and practical publications including the Nordic larp Knutepunkt books, the International Journal of Role-playing, Analog Game Studies, The Wyrd Con Companion Book, and Game Wrap, etc. Combined with Brown and Morrow’s talents in intentional design and marketing, these factors have culminated in a remarkable experience for many of the players: College of Wizardry veterans, experienced North American larpers, and new participants alike.

    The Setting: Progress, not Perfection

    New World Magischola presents an environment where much progressive social change has occurred, but the result is far from a perfect utopia. Similar to College of Wizardry, New World Magischola is set in a fictional world similar to that of Harry Potter, but with an entirely new lore based in regional history and mystical traditions specific to North America.

    Student attend a late-night club at NWM2. Photo courtesy of Learn Larp LLC.
    Students attend a late-night club at NWM2. Photo courtesy of Learn Larp LLC.

    Players start as either professors, third-year, second-year, or first-year students. Third and second-years are already sorted into one of five Houses with distinct personalities and histories: House Croatan, Maison DuBois, Lakay Laveau, Casa Calisaylá, and Dan Obeah. The larp starts Thursday afternoon with a series of briefings and workshops. Play begins Thursday night with group dining and announcements. Then, House parties take place, where the Houses get to know the first-years and decide who they would like to recruit. Clubs also meet Thursday night. Classes take place during the day on Friday, with the House draft and sorting ceremony on Friday night, as well as clubs. Classes resume on Saturday, with a formal dance that evening. The game ends at around midnight, with structured debriefing on Sunday morning.

    Brown playing an NPC hob. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.
    Brown playing an NPC hob. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    With regard to the lore, the designers had to walk a fine line between wedding invented magical elements with real world historical facts and cultures in a way that was respectful, informed, fair, but also honest. The goal of this design was to create a magical universe that did not whitewash history or cherry pick events based upon the stories of the victors, but rather to directly confront the biases, hypocrisies, and violence that stain the American promise of “freedom” while acknowledging the potential embedded in that promise. In this regard, Brown and Morrow consulted with several players of color from diverse backgrounds in order to portray certain cultures respectfully, as they integrated elements into the lore from First Nations, voodoo, slavery, etc. Traumatic moments such as the Civil War are intertwined with invented magical lore to create a universe that feels both grounded in this world and otherworldly.

    While these historical elements exist within the lore, the bulk of the game deals with social issues through this otherworldly lens of metaphor, allowing participants enough distance to engage with topics without triggering real world personal issues of social discrimination. Examples include using werewolves, vampires, “Unsoiled vs. Mundane” blood, and cryptid sapience rights as metaphors for real world social issues. In order to help cement these themes, all students are required to take a Magical Theory and Ethics class where such topics are brought to the foreground.

    A major topic of debate is the rights of sapient creature like the chupacabra. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.
    A major topic of debate is the rights of magical creatures. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    Many are assigned to social clubs that meet after class, such as the Sapience Advocacy group. These issues are also interwoven into character concepts in complex ways that avoid stereotypes and demonstrate their multifaceted nature. In the first run, I played a counselor who held an impromptu group therapy session as the result of inclement weather keeping us from leaving a classroom. Within this session, students shared their backgrounds: a Mundane artificer who hates Unsoiled — the higher class in this world — due to discrimination and wishes to break all the things they create; an Unsoiled whose grandparent was killed for defending Mundane rights in court; an ecologically conscious student who wants to take obsolete Mundane technology and recycle it for magical purposes, etc. By the end of this discussion, characters from multiple sides of issues were willing to expand their perspectives. The sophistication of the writing allowed for students to play “dark” or “light” according to their wishes, but to have complex motivations for doing so that often brought important discussions to the foreground.

    As a player in the second run, my personal story involved playing a Light-oriented Astromancer named Sedona Winters who could divine the future and travel the astral plane. Sedona was co-House President of Dan Obeah. Aside from my duties toward my House mates and collaboration with fellow Presidents, my personal plotline involved trying to encourage my estranged ex-boyfriend to avoid committing an act that would land him in Avernus prison. These discussions centered around his feelings of determinism based upon his history in a Mixed Heritage crime family and my more privileged, Unsoiled character’s belief in free will and personal choice. Ultimately, he made the Lighter choice and we attended the formal together, but the play could have gone many ways. As sequels are planned for future runs, this storyline remains open.

    LUV_9940 4
    House Dan Obeah in NWM2. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    The progressive intent of the design extends from the themes of the game outward to the practices of casting and the establishment of an inclusive play culture. According to the lore, when their daughter was denied attendance to the Imperial Magischola because of her gender, New World Magischola was founded by Virginia Dare and Maximilian Samson in 1635. In this regard, issues of feminism and social progress are interwoven into the school from the ground up, further reinforced by its current ethos, “New World Magischola strongly believes in diversity – of magical tradition, of gender, of race and ethnicity, etc.– both among students and staff, which has been part of its mission since its founding.”((New World Magischola, “About NWM – The School,” Magischola.com, https://magischola.com/about-nwm/.))

    The designers encouraged participants from diverse gender, sexuality, ethnicity, and racial backgrounds to apply for professor and president roles. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.
    The designers encouraged participants from diverse gender, sexuality, ethnicity, and racial backgrounds to apply for professor and president roles. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    Brown and Morrow reinforced this ethos by encouraging people from diverse gender, racial, ethnic, and sexuality backgrounds to apply for professor and House president roles. In this way, the design allows for multiple layers of diversity: representation in the lore makes space for the plausible physical embodiment of diverse individuals in positions of authority. In this regard, the progressive mission statement of the school is similar to many real world universities, with some enhancements.  For example, the default pronouns in the Magimundi — the magical universe — are “they/their/them”; players practiced using these pronouns in workshops, as well as gently correcting each other with a P hand signal from British sign language and a verbal “pronouns” reminder. While this practice caused anxiety for some players initially, by the end of both runs, corrections became mostly seamless and the players respected this expectation. Expanding upon principles from College of Wizardry, discrimination based upon sexuality, gender, race, or ethnicity is not acceptable in the game, with the lore conceit that the Magimundi are beyond such biases. This practice allows vampires, werewolves, and other supernatural beings to act as stand-ins for players to explore issues of discrimination without potentially harming players who experience marginalization in real life. This design also encourages characters to feel comfortable exploring non-traditional types of gender presentation, relationship types, and sexual orientation; all characters are gender-neutral by default and character ties aside from family relations are chosen by the players. Finally, the play culture emphasizes strongly consensual opt-in play, as I will describe in the section below.

    Morrow as an NPC in NWM2. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.
    Morrow as an NPC in NWM2. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    All of these factors contribute to an environment rife with potential conflicts, but sensitively written and deployed in order to create a more inclusive space for each player, specifically for players from marginalized backgrounds. Anecdotally, this space proved transformative for some players, as evidenced by recent blog reviews of the game: Shoshana Kessock((Shoshana Kessock, “Orlanda in the Light of Upraised Wands,” Shoshanakessock.com, last modified June 21, 2016, https://shoshanakessock.com/2016/06/21/orlando-in-the-light-of-upraised-wands/.)) discusses her experiences as a queer player in the wake of the Orlando tragedy; Elsa S. Henry((Elsa S. Henry, “Blind Lady Versus New World Magischola,” Feministsonar.com, last modified on June 21, 2016, http://feministsonar.com/2016/06/blind-lady-versus-new-world-magischola/.))describes the empowerment she felt as a player with disabilities in the larp; and Tara M. Clapper((Tara M. Clapper, “Chasing Bleed – An American Fantasy Larper at Wizard School,” Nordiclarp.org, last modified on July 1, 2016, https://nordiclarp.org/2016/07/01/chasing-bleed/.)) speaks of using bleed in the game to practice interpersonal skills and process grief. Other American players have discussed the psychological impact and transformational nature of the game in a (spoiler-filled) Ace of Geeks podcast interview recorded directly after the second run.((Contains spoilers. Mike Fatum. “AOG Podcast Episode 197: New World Magischola – The Experience,” Ace of Geeks, last modified on July 1, 2016, http://aceofgeeks.net/aog-podcast-episode-197-new-world-magischola-experience/.))

    The emphasis on metaphorical social issues and discourse embedded in the design led some players to have deeply profound learning moments that I heard echoed by several players after the game. These elements combined with the freeform and consent-based magic mechanics to empower characters to explore issues, find agency, and make change in the magical reality. Brown and Morrow describe this design ethos in more depth in their documents on “Queering the Wizard World & Using Feminist Game Design in NWM,”((Maury Brown and Benjamin A. Morrow, “Queering the Wizard World & Using Feminist Game Design in NWM,” Google Docs, last accessed on July 2, 2016.)) Brown’s “The Trouble with Gender” article in Analog Game Studies,((Maury Elizabeth Brown, “The Trouble with Gender in Larp,” Analog Game Studies, last modified on September 13, 2015, http://analoggamestudies.org/2015/09/the-trouble-with-gender-in-larp/.)) and the “Who We Are” section on their website, along with other resources listed in the below sections.

    Magical Ethics in NWM1. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC.
    Magical Theory and Ethics in NWM1. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC.

    The Mechanics: When Nordic Style Meets North Americans

    LUV_9650 2Both College of Wizardry and New World Magischola are designed around freeform conflict resolution mechanics that rely heavily on player choice and improvisation; if a character casts a spell on another character, the recipient player decides the effect. The player casting should telegraph the intent of the spell through verbal description, then use a phrase of their choosing to incant while waving their wands. Magical combat is intended to only take place during duels and is therefore not a strong component of the game, although the school teaches both combat and defense. All effects should be physically plausible in a “What You See is What You Get” (WYSIWYG) environment, meaning that setting something on fire would not be plausible as fire is banned on the actual campus, but a spell may produce a burning sensation with no visible effect if the recipient chooses that response. The designers and volunteers of both larps produced a series of informative, short videos on the magic system.

    As many experienced North American larpers are accustomed to complex conflict resolution mechanic systems — sometimes encompassing hundreds of pages of rules — this system was difficult for some players to understand. Most North American resolution mechanics determine for both players who “wins” an encounter, whereas the Nordic style often encourages “playing to lose,” “playing for drama,” or “playing for what is interesting.” In other words, a spell failing can often lead to even more interesting play than its success.

    Special NPC requested by players at NWM2. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.
    Special NPC requested by players at NWM2. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    Additionally, this system relies heavily on player-driven plotlines. While some overarching stories in the setting are seeded by the organizers or announced throughout the game, players are enabled to make change in their environment by creating their own side plotlines for people to follow, declaring magical effects have taken place in an environment, and even requesting special non-player characters (NPCs) from the staff to arrive at specific times for a purpose. For example, a character may enlist others to go on a ritual through the astral plane in order to cure their curse, declare everyone in a specific room magically unable to tell a lie, or request a special creature to use for demonstration in a Cryptozoology class. In this regard, professors are considered players, while other staff are considered NPCs with more limited goals. The vast majority of these actions can transpire without organizer assistance, with the exception of ordering NPCs, particular props, or special effects. Such a system relies heavily on “yes, and…” or “yes, but…”  improvisational play, where everyone feels enabled to present options within the environment and others should play along as they wish without shutting the other person down completely. This design allows for many and varied personal story hooks and small group plotlines, as opposed to finding and taking part in an overarching staff-run “metaplot” — the latter being a common component of North American larps.

    While ultimately, the system was successful, play culture differences did emerge, as was anticipated. Organizer-seeded plotlines had a tendency to become major metaplots, as many players prioritized them as more important than personal plotlines. Occasionally, players did report feeling “shut out” of play or other players “hoarding plot.” “Hoarding plot” is a common complaint in many North American systems that include staff-run plotlines to solve, where certain players receive the bulk of the information about the overarching story and keep it for themselves or their smaller social groups. Many players are sensitive to this issue, as they perceive that individuals who receive “more plot” from the organizers hold more social status in the community.

    A student interacts with an NPC ghost. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.
    A student interacts with an NPC ghost. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    Discerning the dynamics involved in such situations at New World Magischola is difficult: Did players intentionally exclude others? Did participants not fully realize the extent to which their personal creativity could affect play? Regardless of intentions, for some experienced North American players, a sort of larp “muscle memory” seemed to kick in occasionally, where instincts from other play communities activated. Another example of this tendency is that some players tended to look for faculty or NPCs to provide “answers,” operating under the typical assumption that people who possess in- and out-of-game authority have more information and agency to resolve situations than typical players do.

    Finally, even though players were instructed to wrap up all plotlines before the formal, many left the dance area to pursue plotlines anyway, including a ritual intervention that took place in a classroom on the other side of campus, a public investigation of a student accused of using blood magic, a duel outside, and other personal NPC requests. The tendency of many North American larpers to want to escalate the plotline at the “climax” of the game overtook simply enjoying the social play of the dance for many players, especially since several characters clustered around to watch these activities, drawn to the “action.”

    While some players had trouble adapting to the new mechanics, many embraced the freedom of the creative playstyle. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.
    While some players had trouble adapting to the new mechanics, many embraced the freedom of the creative play style. Photo by Learn Larp LLC.

    Despite these difficulties, the vast majority of players seemed to adapt to the collaborative nature of play, particularly by the second and third days. Interestingly, the new players appeared to adapt easily to the style, leading many of us to become surprised when we learned that they were first-time larpers. Sometimes, previous experience can lead to expectations of play that constrict possibilities rather than enhance them. On the other hand, experienced players may know how to better insert themselves into scenes or create play for others. Future runs with experienced New World Magischola players will likely run more cohesively in this regard, as the group will have a higher herd competency in the Nordic style.

    Opt-In Play: Negotiation, Calibration, Consent, and Safety

    As mentioned above, the larp designers believe strongly in creating a play culture of inclusion, which is evident in the design of the workshops, signaling systems, in-game rituals, and debriefing.((Sarah Lynne Bowman and Harrison Greene, “Sample Debriefing Exercise,” Google Docs, last modified March 18, 2015, https://docs.google.com/document/d/1RcsSBhlhMw8jlZqsMsQLx5azBXT1a3L9hgx85i6TJVo/edit?usp=sharing. This exercise borrows heavily from debriefing strategies in the Nordic tradition.)) Harrison Greene and I were honored to help flesh out some of these systems, which borrow heavily from various techniques in other communities.

    Players often created their own rituals, here in NWM1. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC.
    Players often created their own rituals, as seen here in NWM1. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC.

    The design of New World Magischola included explicit instructions for certain components, including the content of rituals, acceptable vs. unacceptable pranks, a form for first-years to fill out their first and last choices for their Houses during the draft, etc. These elements allowed the designers to set clear expectations for tone and appropriate behavior in the hopes of providing a fulfilling experience for the majority of players, rather than leaving this content open to chance.

    House initiation ritual for Lakay Laveau in NWM2. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC.
    Lakay Laveau at a ritual in NWM2. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC.

    Workshops included instruction on how to play in the Nordic style, how to cast spells, how to participate in Houses, status lines for various character aspects, “hot seat” interviewing to establish character beliefs/ties, creating an off-game buddy system, etc. We also practiced the safety metatechniques, which included the standard “cut” for stopping a scene and “brake” or “Largo” for decreasing the intensity of a scene. The game included a version the “okay” symbol system developed by Aaron Vanek and Kirsten Hageleit for clandestinely checking in with other players; players could flash the okay symbol to someone else, with that person responding with a thumbs up, a so-so, or a thumbs down gesture. We also included the aforementioned pronoun workshop with verbal and visual signals for correction, which we developed with assistance from Liz Gorinsky and Sara Williamson, inspired by their groundbreaking game about gender identity See Me Now.((Liz Gorinsky and Sara Williamson, “See Me Now,” Fastaval 2017, last accessed July 2, 2016, http://www.fastaval.dk/aktivitet/see-me-now-2/?lang=en.)) In addition, we piloted a new technique devised by Trine Lise Lindahl and introduced by Johanna Koljonen((Johanna Koljonen, “Toolkit Premiere! Let’s Name A Bow-Out Mechanic,” Participationsafety.wordpress.com, last modified on May 30, 2016, https://participationsafety.wordpress.com/2016/05/30/toolkit-lets-name-this-baby-bow-out-mechanics/. See also Koljonen’s keynote from the Living Games Conference, “Opt-in/Opt-out Safety Systems,” YouTube, modified on Jun 10, 2016, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7bFdrV3nJA8.)) that we called “Lookdown,” in which a player places their hand over their eyes to duck out of a scene without being followed or questioned. 

    Players could also leave a scene by saying, “I need to do something for the Chancellor…” without repercussions. We integrated the hand-raising technique, where when one person raises their hand, everyone follows suit and becomes quiet, as well as the “deaf applause” from American Sign Language, where people shake their hands in the air instead of clapping loudly. Additionally, players were encouraged to go off-game subtly to negotiate any sort of violence, romance, or physical touch, all of which required opt-in consent by all players involved. While some worried about the sheer amount of metatechniques to remember, players seemed to use them regularly, particularly “lookdown” and the “okay” symbol. By the end of both runs of the the larp, most players were freely asking each other for consent to hug and fluidly using “they” pronouns. Several experienced players expressed a wish to bring these techniques back to their home communities.

    For player safety, the game included counselors, who players could approach in- or out-of-game with concerns. Greene and I performed these roles in the first run, with an NPC ghost serving as a counselor in the second. These roles were important release valves for some players, helping them process emotions or redirect their play. The game also implemented a Sanctuary Space,((Living Games Conference, “Sanctuary Space, Safety Team, and Crisis Management Programming,” Livinggamesconference.com, last modified on April 15, 2016, http://www.livinggamesconference.com/sanctuary-space-safety-team-and-crisis-management-programming/.)) where players could go to decompress in- or out-of-character with a counselor, a friend, or alone. Adapted from Burning Man culture and the recent Living Games Conference 2016, the Sanctuary Space provides a spot for introverted, overstimulated, or physically ill players to relax until they are ready to rejoin play.

    House initiation ritual for Casa Calisaylá in NWM2. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC.
    House initiation ritual for Casa Calisaylá in NWM2. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC.

    Greene and I also helped write a guide for the House Presidents for creating initiation rituals to welcome first-years. These rituals were not to include any sort of hazing or other humiliating play and should create feelings of trust among the House members.

    A member of Casa Calisaylá howls "awoo," the House chant. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC.
    A member of Casa Calisaylá howls “awoo,” the House chant. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC.

    During this ritual, first-years were assigned a second year mentor, giving players an extra connection within the game. Emergent ritual concepts included imbuing one’s intention into an item, puzzle rooms, summonings, finding one’s spirit cryptid in the astral plane, leading first-years blindfolded through a “wall of sound” through instruments and voices, etc. Many players reported having powerful experiences and even moments of catharsis during the House rituals. Additionally, players were warned in workshops against mean-spirited play between House members and Houses themselves. Friendly rivalries were fine, while purposeful ostracization or trash-talking was discouraged unless consensual between all parties.

    All of these techniques encourage what Brown and Morrow call “Playing for Empathy”((Maury Brown and Benjamin A. Morrow, “Breaking the Alibi: Fostering Empathy by Reuniting the Player and the Character,” in The Wyrd Con Companion Book 2015, ed. Sarah Lynne Bowman (Los Angeles: Wyrd Con, 2015), 102-116, https://www.dropbox.com/s/xslwh0uxa544029/WCCB15-Final.pdf?dl=0)) and “People-Centered Design,”((Maury Brown, “People-Centered Design,” YouTube, last modified on June 10, 2016, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oZY9wLUMCPY.)) in which the comfort level of members of the community is more important than the story.

    A New World Awaits

    Having played as a professor in College of Wizardry, an NPC counselor in the first run of New World Magischola, and a House President in the second run, I have seen the power of both larps to bring in new players, re-enchant the Mundane world, and produce powerful experiences.

    Players forged new in- and out-of-game friendships, here between two "opposing" House presidents. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC.
    Players forged new in- and out-of-game friendships, here between two “opposing” House presidents after the larp. Photo by Learn Larp, LLC.

    The progressive nature of the themes of New World Magischola in particular produced a powerful sense of belongingness and purpose for many of us in run 2. Our Dan Obeah house motto was “Be the change. Break the chains. Change the world,” a Ghandi-inspired reminder that each of us is capable of social change if we use wisdom and strive toward the greater good. We also developed a five fingered, palm-open salute to show unity between the Houses; characters from other Houses could press palms together to show solidarity. This feeling of collective connectivity was palpable in both runs.

    Preliminary data from a survey designed by Markus Montola suggest that player responses to the first run of New World Magischola are overwhelmingly positive, both when evaluating whether they had a “great game” and whether this was their “best larp experience ever.”  According to the preliminary results, players generally felt “psychologically and emotionally safe,” and almost all of the respondents reported having made new friends as a result of the game.

    How New World Magischola will affect the world of larp in North America remains to be seen, but I hope for great things, as players from previously separated communities come together and experience something unique and magical.


    Cover photo: A first year receives their House tie during the drafting ceremony, courtesy of Learn Larp LLC. All other photos used with permission from Learn Larp LLC.


    New World Magischola

    Date: June 16-19, June 23-26, July 21-24 and July 28-31, 2016

    Location: University of Richmond in Richmond, Virginia, United States

    Duration: 4 days including workshops, play, and debriefing

    Participants: 140-165 per run

    Participation Fee: $375 to $895, $450 for a regular ticket

    Website: https://magischola.com/

    Credits

    Producers: Maury Brown and Ben Morrow, Learn Larp LLC.

    Make-up Lead: Katherine Kira “Tall Kat” McConnell. Prosthetics by Mark Mensch

    Costuming Lead: Derek Herrera.

    Stitchers: Jenny Underwood, Robin Jendryaszek, Jennifer WinterRose, Amber Feldman, Summer Donovan, Michele Mountain, Nancy Calvert-Warren, Jennifer Klettke, Kristen Moutry, Caryn Johnson, Datura Matel

    Music: Original songs (lyrics and music) by Austin Nuckols (Maison DuBois, Lakay Laveau, Casa Calisaylá and House Croatan) and Leah K. Blue (Dan Obeah), lyrics to New World Magischola Anthem by Maury Brown and Ben Morrow, music by Austin Nuckols. Other music and sound by Evan Torner and Austin Shepherd

    Props: Mike Young, Carrie Matteoli, Indiana Thomas, Summer Donovan, Kevin Donovan, Gordon Olmstead-Dean, Jason Morningstar, Matt Taylor, Molly Ellen Miller, Michael Boyd, Moira Parham, Martin John Manco, Ken Brown, Dale, Laura Young, Harry Lewis, Mark Daniels, Michael Pucci, Terry Smith of Stagecoach Theater Productions, Yvonne and Dirk Parham, Jen Wong, Caryn Johnson, Jess Pestlin, Orli Nativ, Kaitlin Smith, The Center for the Arts of Greater Manassas at the Candy Factory, Melissa Danielle Penner, Jess Sole, Liselle Awwal, Nathan Love.

    Helpers and advisors: Anders Berner, Claus Raasted, Christopher Sandberg, Mike Pohjola, Bjarke Pedersen, Johanna Koljonen, Anne Serup Grove, Mikolaj Wicher, Jamie MacDonald, Eevi Korhonen, Markus Montola, Jaakko Stenros, Staffan Rosenberg, Anna Westerling, Michael Pucci, Ashley Zdeb, Emily Care Boss, Daniel Hocutt, Charles Bo Nielsen, Joe Ennis, Kristin Bezio, Rob Balder, Kat Jones, Sarah Lynne Bowman, Harrison Greene.

    Assistance with writing, editing, graphic design, music, art: Frank Beres, Claus Raasted, Richard Wetzel, Bethy Winkopp, Oriana Almquist, Craig Anderson, Zach Shaffer, Erica Schoonmaker, Madeleine Wodjak, Toivo Voll, Marie DelRio, Mike Young, Laura Young, Anna Yardney, Lee Parmenter, Stephanie Simmons, Nancy Calvert-Warren, Jessica Acker, Jason Woodland, Jason Arne, Harrison Greene, Sarah Lynne Bowman, Kristi Kalis, Quinn Milton, Anna Kovatcheva, Browning Porter, Orli Nativ, Rhiannon Chiacchiaro, Miranda Chadbourne, Lars Bundvad, Ffion Evans, David Horsh, Dani Castillo, Frank Caffran Castillo, Dayna Lanza, Sarah Brand, Tara Clapper, Suzy Pop, David Neubauer, Chris Bergstresser, Jason Morningstar, Evan Torner, Peter Woodworth, Peter Svensson, Daniel Abraham, Harry Lewis, Alexis Moisand, Alissa Erin Murray, Jennifer Klettke, Kathryn Sarah, Elsa Sjunneson-Henry, Austin Nuckols, Leah Blue, Joelle Scarnati, Dan Luxenberg, Chad Brinkley, David Clements, Niels Ull Harremoës, Adria Kyne, Emily Heflin.

    Production and logistics: Austin Shepherd, Claus Raasted, Olivia Anderson, Kristin Bezio, Shayna Alley, Mike Young, Zach Shaffer, Dayna Lanza, Derek Herrera, Kristin Moutrey, Jenny Underwood, Jennifer WinterRose, Caryn Johnson, Amber Feldman, Michele Mountain, Summer Donovan, Robin Jendryaszek, Jennifer Klettke, Datura Metel, Amanda Schoen, Mark Mensch, Katherine McConnell, Chris Bergstresser, Christopher Amherst, Holly Butterfield, Uriah Brown, Kyle Lian, Evan Torner, Jeff Moxley, Ashley Zdeb, Thomas Haynes, Mikolaj Wicher, David Donaldson, Brandy Dilworth and the staff of the University of Richmond Summer Conference Services office.

  • Chasing Bleed – An American Fantasy Larper at Wizard School

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    Chasing Bleed – An American Fantasy Larper at Wizard School

    By

    Tara M. Clapper

    In June of 2016, I went to wizard school.

    I’m a larper, so that’s kind of an expected thing. But this wasn’t just any larp experience: this was New World Magischola, a Nordic-inspired game on American soil. Like many Americans who participated in the game, I was equal parts excited and intimidated.

    I knew I’d have a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but I wasn’t prepared for the loving and supporting community that would stick with me weeks after the event.

    This article describes how I felt about my experience as someone who comes from an American campaign boffer fantasy larp background.

    My Background as a Larper

    I’ve been participating in live action role playing games for about eight years. I entered the hobby when I attended a PvP (player vs. player) boffer larp called Vanguard (initially Portal II), the sequel to a popular game located in South Jersey in the Northeastern United States.

    After sampling a few other games in similar play style, I joined the staff of Seventh Kingdom IGE to handle the out-of-game responsibility of marketing for the first few years of its run. I marketed the game as more immersive((In a US context immersion usually means something external to the player, what is more often called 360 degree illusion in the Nordic countries. Immersion is mostly understood to be an internal state in the Nordic traditions.)) than other local games. I still play there as a PC (player character).

    Years later, I began attending larps in other genres, such as the sci-fi Mercenaries of the Galactic Frontier Campaign in the Mystic Realms Multiverse, as well as games within the fantasy genre. Most significantly, I began larping at conventions and played freeform games such as those in #Feminism: A Nano-Games Anthology.

    As I started to expand my interest in larps beyond those played primarily in my region, I felt and acted upon a strong desire to blend the styles. When I started attending Double Exposure events and played in This Miracle, a freeform larp by Lizzie Stark and Nick Fortugno focusing on religion and rituals, I asked the other players for permission to take back one of the rituals we’d created and use it as a ritual to an existing god at my home larp.

    When I portrayed my established character in the ritual setting, I brought a more aggressive character and play style more commonly used in American fantasy boffer combat games. It’s my hope that both games benefited from this blend and small exchange, and it’s this satisfaction in doing so that led me to snag a ticket for New World Magischola.

    New World Magischola is a larp all about attending college as a wizard. It relies on North American lore and traditions and is inspired by the massively successful College of Wizardry, which is run in a castle in Poland.

    My Goals at New World Magischola

    Nordic larpers played alongside American larpers at New World Magischola
    Nordic larpers played alongside American larpers at New World Magischola

    Having experienced immersion and bleed((Bleed is when emotions bleed over between player or character, in either direction.)) at my regular game, I looked for an enhanced version of this experience at New World Magischola. So often, American larpers in my region see bleed primarily as a negative consequence of immersion and over-committed role-play, but I enjoy it as a way to learn more about an aspect of myself.

    After I got to know the experienced role-players I’d interact with at New World Magischola via online conversations and Google Hangout sessions prior to the game, I let them know that I was going for some emotionally driven roleplay centered around certain themes.

    This type of play is far from impossible to obtain at my usual fantasy games, I should note – one time I experienced missing someone in character and found the scene a cathartic way for me and others to process the real life sudden loss of a beloved member of our larp community. While this type of play is hesitantly accepted in my usual larp community, it is not the norm. Additionally, other real-life societal expectations sometimes endure in the community. For example, the community may more readily accept a woman crying than a man.

    Goal 1: Immersion

    “Full immersion is dangerous,” one of my friends had told me previously. And he has a point: if you become the character to the point of losing track of the rules in a game involving combat or if you fail to recognize safety words and others’ triggers, immersion could be very dangerous. However, internalizing rules systems – no matter the complexity – has been a safe, useful strategy for me in the past. (This does require either a pre-existing familiarity of the rules system or a game without too many rules).

    Having some experience with immersion, feeling comfortable with other participants, and trusting in the organizers, I decided to play as immersively as possible, even opting for an in-game sleeping space. (At New World Magischola, dorm rooms are considered off-game by default.)

    The character I played at New World Magischola — Minerva — was stern and often angry. She was rarely effusive with positive emotions. This is a stringent contrast to My Seventh Kingdom IGE character (Ceara) – she’s one of the bubblier characters in game. Minerva hid her expressive vocal talent; Ceara thrives on self-expression. I wanted to play a markedly different character and felt that in a Nordic-style game, my character development would be less hindered (as compared to the American fantasy setting) if I chose to play a character who wasn’t inherently happy.

    In real life, I always encounter articles about finding happiness or avoiding negativity. However, life has negative moments. I need to deal with them, not shove them aside. Playing Minerva allowed me to explore this thematically and as a process in a way that the real world does not allow.

    Result of Immersion at New World Magischola:

    I was out-of-game for less than an hour between game on and game off. I began to feel fully immersed less than an hour into the game. I felt or actively went out of game only for:

    • Cut scenes (for emotional safety)
    • To access my phone to check in with my dog sitters
    • Experiencing anxiety about getting lost (I’m horrible with maps and the campus is large)
    • A few selfies to document my experience, which I did off-game only because I smile and my character generally doesn’t
    • Self-care – I had to pause and take a nap; I had to take medication

    Immersion helped me expose and confront many negative behaviors – and play up qualities of myself I wish to show to the world more often. Since the game’s end, I have pursued active bleed for the following positive habits once I noticed them forming as a result of the game experience:

    • Reduction of negative self-talk (“I’m so stupid; I can’t figure out where to find my keys, how can I possibly do anything of significance?”)
    • Asking for help when I need it: I had a support network in-game. We’re in an out-of-game Facebook group together. Today I asked them for support with a trying situation and I got it.
    • Being myself instead of what the world expects of me: Sometimes I’m not happy, and that’s okay. Not going to fake it until I make it – I’d rather just avoid wasting my time worrying about the approval of people who don’t matter.
    • Creative problem-solving: I often feel a loss of control when there is no immediate answer to the problem. How can I use the resources I have to work around that helplessness?
    • Only apologize when necessary: Apologies are more meaningful when they are rare and reserved for sincerity. I’m not going to apologize to someone if they’re standing in my way or talking over me – but I will apologize if I stand in their way or talk over them.
    • Respect for proper pronouns: As an editor of subject matter in different fields and subcultures, I can make an active impact regarding this change. I will not wait for a style book to change the way “they” is used. I’ll just make the change. Small policy, large impact.

    When the game ended, the debriefing materials and counselors asked us to focus on what we’d like to take away and what we’d like to leave behind. I was surprised to find that I wanted to take away so many things.

    Goal 2: Explore Minerva’s Themes: Grief and Loyalty

    Having had a positive, cathartic experience exploring grief among trusted friends at a fantasy game, I elected to explore the topic again here. In everyday life, I feel a pressure to “be strong,” especially since other women in geek culture have confessed to looking at me as an influencer.

    However, I understand that being strong also means being real about strong emotions and coping with them. New World Magischola provided me with an opportunity to explore and resolve issues that were holding me back.

    Grief

    I miss my grandfather a lot. He passed away in 2014. When I received my character sheet for New World Magischola, I noticed that her grandfather was a mundane country musician. When I later had the opportunity to request a scene, I asked that the grandfather’s ghost come to find Minerva at school.

    I noted on the request form that I was going for some closure and intentional bleed here to keep all parties informed for emotional safety. I was confident that the people handling this would have good judgment, and they did.

    The scene created was extremely touching. My character sang to her grandfather and the scene pushed her to accept and process her emotions more readily. I’m extremely grateful to those who helped with the scene, knowing what it meant, and that no one questioned my ability to determine what level of intentional bleed was appropriate for me.

    This scene was part of the reason I felt so much peace after I came home from game.

    Some people, even in the larp scene, find this whole experience weird or think that bleed is only something negative. While I’ve experienced negative effects of bleed, I more commonly utilize it as a very powerful tool for self-discovery and self-improvement. However, I struggle with a lack of validation for that strategy in my usual larp scene.

    Loyalty

    I enjoy being valued. Unfortunately, this can manifest in negative attention-seeking behaviors in the real world, like wanting to be noticed by people who mean to harm or manipulate me and others. I used the game as an opportunity to explore loyalty to an entire group of people (my character’s House).

    Although Minerva had more personal connections with some than others (and although some of those people weren’t necessarily doing things for the good of the world), this was a much healthier way for my character (and myself) to seek positive reinforcement, approval, and loyalty.. As Minerva, I was able to turn that constant approval into positive actions, like making new spells or mentoring a new House initiate with confidence.

    This process is an exemplary one for me to internalize. I don’t want to waste energy on the wrong people, but there are some people in my life who deserve my loyalty. Roleplaying Minerva helped me learn how to differentiate between the two.

    Both Minerva and Ceara are extremely loyal characters. This is one of the more rewarding traits for me to play and makes me feel like I can seek and give approval to others in both settings in an emotionally healthy way.

    New World Magischola

    Exploring a World Without ‘-isms’

    The week before I went to New World Magischola, my website about women in geek culture was hacked. This happened as my site hosted a series of panels about women in geek culture, representation in films, and communities of color and safe spaces at Wizard World Philly, an annual fan convention in Philadelphia.

    The hack may or may not have been coincidental, but the effects were very real: I felt angry, unsafe, and, defeated.

    Going into the game, especially after this, was the challenge of playing in a world without “isms.” I’m white, cisgender, and heterosexual, and I’m aware that I likely project many microaggressions unintentionally towards marginalized people.

    Additionally, as illustrated by the website hack example, I feel disadvantaged as a woman living in a patriarchal society. I wasn’t sure how I could even begin to pretend to live in something else, so I made it a personal challenge to recognize equality as part of the Magimundi: the magical world in New World Magischola.

    I was somewhat accustomed to this in my home larp as my character represents a “might makes right” society. While power matters more than gender in the game setting and the real-world game culture, there are still occasionally some gender dynamics in play (and I willfully explore some of those in-game relationships).

    Without the existence of sexism holding me (the player) back at New World Magischola, I found that my character did not question herself very often, and that other characters challenged her on ideas and associations rather than physical characteristics, appearance, or clothing.

    Being Perceived as Capable

    Minerva was seen as capable as most others in the world because the roleplay mattered more than a preconceived notion of what it meant to be “able.” While I do suffer from chronic pain, it’s usually not visible. I am, however, short in height and frequently talked over by men. Yet within the world, I did not experience this negativity and I was not held back by it.

    From a place of privilege, I also found it immersively easier to think person-first: “they’re a Marshal” or “she’s a member of Dan Obeah” versus seeing differences and disabilities as a primary identifying characteristic. It’s not about defining someone else, but being very aware of how they prefer to be identified and defined (or not). It’s important to recognize how someone else wants to be thought of: is this part of who they are? Do they identify this way as a primary means of definition? New World Magischola caused me to think about these things and have enlightening conversations about them later.

    The game world is all about what you can do, not your real or perceived limitations – and your abilities are based on magical prowess and how you interact with the world, not a character sheet with hit points and skills.

    I found my real-world biases exposed and as a result, I commit to fighting them post-game.

    I also wish to note that the players of the game did explore themes of inclusion allegorically. I made the choice to downplay my character’s biases in certain instances, especially following the recent shooting in Orlando. As my character felt especially close to a vampire hater, I learned that sometimes hate originates from a pain in someone who feels they can’t be healed.

    For further analysis on these themes, please read a queer perspective.

    Game Format and Timing

    The most significant adjustments I had to make in going from an American fantasy campaign boffer larp to New World Magischola involved game format and timing. In most of the games I’ve played, the climax of the story occurs towards the end of the game in a “main mod,” during which the main characters and their NPC (non-player character) allies take on the big bad villain of the month.

    What Is a Larp Module?

    Modules, or “mods.” typically involve planned scenes during which PCs are presented with opportunities to interact with NPCs and environments in a battle and/or roleplay context. An example: a known friendly NPC acts as a “hook,” asking for adventurers to help him get to another location safely. On the way, the group is attacked by waiting monsters (NPCs). While this is typical of American fantasy campaign style, mods can involve only two people and a high level of emotional intensity. The “main mod” is typically inclusive of the entire group and may involve grand melee combat.

    At a game like New World Magischola, this isn’t necessarily the case. The big event at the end is the formal ball. Like classes and meals, it’s built into the schedule of the game. It’s a protected space with wards, so nothing bad can happen there; I got the impression from some College of Wizardry veterans that you should even have your plot wrapped up before the ball.

    Emotionally, I was pleasantly surprised at the way the event worked for me and some members of my character’s House. The game got more emotional for me over time. At one point, my character was upset and there were tears. One of the counselors (who are brilliantly counselors in game, but will also talk to you out of game if necessary) came over to check on me. In the last twenty minutes of the game, I managed to wrap up my plot in a way that prevented too much negative bleed.

    Competition: Playing to Win, Playing to Lose, and the “Magic” Combination

    New World MagischolaIt’s often assumed that:

    • American larpers play to win: competitive play in which the game can be “won;”
    • Nordic larpers play to lose: making choices to create the most interesting or moving scene even if that has negative consequences for their character.

    While I love competitive elements, I’ve also seen them create a destructive or win-focused environment in some games and gaming cultures.

    At New World Magischola, much of the in-game competition was enhanced by personal rivalry. This especially makes sense due to the elaborate pre-game relationship building some wished to partake in.

    In both gaming environments, I have noticed in-game competition taken a little too far — teasing on Facebook about one culture or House being better than another, chants disparaging one group instead of simply promoting one’s own. Overall, I felt like the spirit at New World Magischola was more welcoming, but that could also be due to a “grass is always greener” or honeymoon effect.

    Immersion was prevalent in both styles, though I found myself more frequently and more fully immersed in the Nordic style game. This was due to several reasons:

    • I didn’t have to do math to think about how many hit points I had
    • The setting, while magical, was modern, so things like “mundane cars” didn’t have to be “dragons”
    • Most out-of-game communication took place before the game, very briefly, or through non-invasive hand signals (as opposed to narration or describing things that weren’t actually there)

    Immersion Versus Playing to Lose

    That said, I didn’t embrace “play to lose” as much as some Nordic style gamers do. This is because of immersion. I was always conscious of safety and ensuring others’ comfort as players, but I wasn’t thinking “what will make a more interesting story?” or even “what would my character do?” Instead, I had chosen to play a reactive character and I did.

    In retrospect, there were things I could have done to make more interesting scenes. There were also actions other players took to ensure better scenes for me, but for the most part, I’m glad I stuck to simply being my character and setting her up in a way that encouraged kindness to other players, involving others (not hoarding information), and dramatic, decisive involvement.

    What Others Said: Too Nordic or Not Nordic Enough?

    I have not played a larp in Europe, but I did hear some College of Wizardry vets describe some differences between the two games. I got the impression that there is less hand-holding at College of Wizardry and less attention to various sensitivities.

    As a player, safety is important to me. I need to feel physically and emotionally safe before I can experience immersion, and the rules set in place at New World Magischola made that possible.

    Effects of Bleed: Expected and Unexpected

    Having experienced bleed before in campaign games, I did expect some lasting effects. I’ve had players treat me poorly because they did not agree with or understand something my character did. Some of them did this unintentionally or they would simply not admit to bleed — since it’s such a forbidden thing in some American larp.

    I found that the intentional bleed I sought at New World Magischola was there and it was transformative. Weeks later, I feel like I really dove into the grieving process and gave myself closure by experiencing grief in game.

    What I did not expect was such a strong bond with the other players. Prior to the game, I’d been going through a great deal of personal difficulty and hadn’t been able to connect with other players to the degree I’d wanted, mostly due to real world strain and time limitations. Plus, I thought I’d only be playing this character for a few days: why was it worth it to invest so much time and money into character creation and relationships?

    As I mentioned previously, I did spend time on Google Hangouts with the players of my character’s House presidents and other members of our House before game. I was pretty comfortable with everyone in the Hangouts, so this made me able to hop right into character once we were in game.

    They seemed like cool people and once we started talking about character development, I could tell that they were all very talented and creative.

    What I was not expecting was the out-of-game attachment I’d feel to other players I interacted with in-game. It’s been more than a week since the game has ended and it feels really weird if I don’t talk to the player of my character’s roommate every other day or so.

    There’s also the shared experience: it helps me to know that other people miss me. I feel very validated in all of my emotions and actions surrounding the game.

    I did find that my return to “normal life” happened a bit faster than that of others. This was likely due to:

    • Short travel time (6 hours) and little time spent “in transit” (airports, etc.)
    • Formal and informal debriefing following the game
    • Immediate return to work
    • My own expectations for intentional bleed
    • Being accustomed to returning to work immediately after an intense RP weekend

    The need to remain connected with other players was so intense it was surprising. I found that others in the community were experiencing similar feelings, and once I realized that my feelings were typical for the experience, I accepted them. Now I have New World Magischola friends I’ve already seen in person again and many more that I speak to on Facebook regularly. Aside from the positive bleed (particularly less negative self-talk) I took away from the game, my new friends are the greatest benefit of having played in this community.

    Blending Traditions: Reconciliation and Deliberate Infusions

    Moving forward, I’m prepared to blend styles as much as existing games will allow. I find the “main mod” in campaign larps irresistible — but in Nordic style games, players are empowered to create plot themselves. Having emotional scenes at the end of the New World Magischola game was a highlight for me. There’s no reason I couldn’t have also had a big duel as well.

    I have to accept the fact that there isn’t a big finale, necessarily, in the Nordic style, but that doesn’t mean I can’t work within the format to create something satisfying for myself and others.

    Player empowerment is something I want to bring back with me into Seventh Kingdom. As I play a character in a leadership position, I’m already empowered and expected to do some things for the players and characters in my group. While I don’t want to push the limits of what I’m permitted to do — there’s no making up spells on the fly when there’s a 300 page rulebook —  I realize that I can create customs and traditions for my character’s kingdom, get them staff approved if necessary, and run rituals and other events within the player group.

    During a run of This Miracle at Dreamation in 2014, I wasn’t sure about freeform and Nordic style games. It felt more comfortable for me to play a familiar character, so I played Ceara from Seventh Kingdom. There were not too many character limitations and playing a developed character seemed to help other players as well.

    During the game, we created rituals together. One of the rituals we created reminded my character very much of her culture in Seventh Kingdom. With the players’ permission, I took the ritual back to my home larp and involved them in it at the game. The ritual helped to engage new players by providing them with something to do. In this way, I’ve been blending games and styles naturally and the biggest benefits are:

    • How increasingly comfortable I become in multiple styles
    • How I provide engaging content that helps other players and enhances the storylines of other characters.

    Financial Privilege and Accessibility

    Prior to playing New World Magischola, I had been a bit put off by some players in the Nordic scene. While I was open-minded, some of them didn’t believe that I had achieved immersion in “just a boffer larp.” That’s hurtful, because I’m proud of the intense roleplay that happens at Seventh Kingdom and I work very hard as a player to foster that aspect of the culture at the larp.

    Additionally, there are comments like “you need to play a game in Europe.” That implies a lot of financial privilege. Like most American larpers, I can’t simply afford to fly to Poland on a whim and play in a castle (even though I would love to play College of Wizardry). At best, for most campaign larpers, that would involve sacrificing their home game for a once per year experience. And when your social community revolves around larp and you enjoy larp, that’s a depressing thought.

    Attending New World Magischola was a privilege for me. I made sacrifices to go, as did other members of my household. I’m eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner this week because I wanted to have the right props for the game two weeks ago. That’s not the worst thing ever, but it goes to show that not everyone can easily afford to attend. I was only able to go because I snagged a lightning round ticket during the New World Magischola Kickstarter.

    It was worth the equivalent of copay for 19 sessions of therapy that it cost, and was at least as cathartic, providing me with a vehicle for self-affirmation, inclusion, and positivity supported by a loving community.

    Maison DuBois
    House Maison DuBois.

    American Larpers: A Note on Superiority, Elitism, and Guilt

    New World Magischola fell on the same weekend of my beloved Seventh Kingdom IGE. I had no small amount of guilt over heading to another game instead of one I’ve played every month (with one exception, when I was in a car accident) for years.

    I lessened this guilt by taking the opportunity to make sure my kingdom group at Seventh Kingdom had everything they needed, to send in my monthly reports and character letters, and to let the game’s staff know I wouldn’t be around.

    I had major FOMO (fear of missing out) regarding Seventh Kingdom the whole way down to New World Magischola. By the time the game was over, I was so overtaken with the immersive experience and intentional bleed of New World Magischola that I didn’t even think about Seventh Kingdom until my friend asked – and then I checked the phone to make sure my kingdom still existed in the game and that the king still lived!

    The general perception in some international larp communities is that American fantasy boffer larping is pretty low-brow and that Nordic larp experiences are intense, emotional, have less rules, and therefore better. Following New World Magischola, players originating from both styles admitted to these perceptions on Facebook and confessed concern and regret over how it could have affected their play. Most had positive experiences and were so grateful to find that the stereotypes were not entirely true.

    Coming back from my first large-scale Nordic-style game and going back to my core group of friends who larp here, I wasn’t sure how to discuss my experiences with them. It was clear I had fallen in love with the new game and the play style; I harbored guilt that I developed a familial relationship in three days akin to one that had taken three years to develop in a campaign setting. This also extended to my non-larp geek friends. “You had to be there” doesn’t sound welcoming. I’m still trying to think of a way to express my appreciation for both styles without sounding superior in either social group.

    I tried discussing my experiences with a few close friends from the American larp scene. I called Seventh Kingdom a “boffer game” like Nordic larpers do and got an immediate scowl from my friend. I see myself as continuing to enjoy both styles, but expecting different things out of them:

    • Games like Seventh Kingdom let you work over time to earn big achievements, which is extremely rewarding. You can’t just “make yourself” a diplomat in that game, but there are avenues to earn it, for example. I like having to earn something over time.
    • The triumphant feeling of fighting “the Big Bad” at the main mod at the end of the game is exhilarating. I prefer this format of action.
    • Less rules (like at New World Magischola) promotes immersion and prevents rules lawyering.
    • Relationship-building is a crucial aspect of both types of games, so long as they involve collaborative storytelling.
    • Open discussion of bleed, lack of shame, and the unabashed acceptance of the game culture at New World Magischola is refreshing. It’s more than a honeymoon phase, but the fact that it’s new to me only enhances my feelings.

    I’m not going to hide the fact that New World Magischola made me a better larper and a stronger, more confident, and more empathetic person. I want to carry those positive traits over to all of my larping experiences.

    Recommendations for American Larpers

    American larpers attending Nordic games in general and New World Magischola in particular should keep the following in mind:

    • You won’t get accused of being a “special snowflake.” Make a scene request. Enhance a scene. Do something dramatic. It only makes the collaborative storytelling experience better.
    • Some preplanned relationships and player interaction helps, especially if you want to feel more comfortable. There’s no need to put an excessive amount of time into it, though. You can do this online, but connecting in person and at the workshops at the beginning of the game is especially recommended.
    • Wear or do something iconic that is specific only to your character. For me, it was a hat.
    • In some scenes, you’re a supporting character. In other scenes, you’re the star.
    • If you need help improvising or can’t figure out a solution to something, ask in-character. Minerva asked her mentor and professors for help with a spell, which made sense in game.

    These experiences and comparisons are only mine. Given their own backgrounds and individual larp experiences, each player will have different feelings regarding what it’s like to play at New World Magischola. For me, the game was an unforgettable, life-changing, shared experience.

    In the American games I play in the northeastern U.S., admitting to bleed comes with a stigma. At New World Magischola, it comes with the territory. I’d like to see American games adapt a healthier mentality here: it potentially makes role-play and combat more meaningful. New World Magischola wasn’t afraid of empowering players to affect the game world; I’d love to see some of these restrictions similarly lifted in American games. Some do that to a degree — at Seventh Kingdom IGE, characters are encouraged to spend “patronage points” to influence politics behind the scenes. More of that, maybe not dependent on mechanics, would benefit these games.

    At New World Magischola, people were focused on the experience. We were told there is no “world plot” like there often is in American games, and there was no guaranteed awesome “main mod” moment towards the end of the game. New World Magischola could meet more American larpers’ expectations by making a slight adaptation to them. The announcement of the house cup winners did provide some closure to the event and players seemed to understand that it was important to tie up plots if possible, but a final, definitive and dramatic surprise scene involving combat might have improved the closure.

    Going forward, I aim to willfully contribute to the blending of these styles, especially as games and systems allow. As long as safety is considered, I’m not going to hold back the emotional depth of my roleplay at American games; as long as there is the opportunity to create more final and decisive action, I’ll work on initiating larger scenes in Nordic style games.

    My combined experiences in multiple styles and my interactions with game designers have inspired me to pursue larp development. In all styles I’ve experienced, I’ve witnessed sincere community development largely aimed at supporting and caring for other players and the game. I’m inspired – and if I can provide this to others even for a few hours, I will be able to make a positive contribution to the larp community which has changed me for the better.


    Cover photo: Wizards posing for a photo before the student ball (play, courtesy of Learn Larp LLC). All other photos used with permission from Learn Larp LLC.


    New World Magischola

    Date: June 16-19, June 23-26, July 21-24 and July 28-31, 2016

    Location: University of Richmond in Richmond, Virginia, United States

    Duration: 4 days including workshops, play, and debriefing

    Participants: 140-165 per run

    Participation Fee: $375 to $895, $450 for a regular ticket

    Website: https://magischola.com/

    Credits

    Producers: Maury Brown and Ben Morrow, Learn Larp LLC.

    Make-up Lead: Katherine Kira “Tall Kat” McConnell. Prosthetics by Mark Mensch

    Costuming Lead: Derek Herrera.

    Stitchers: Jenny Underwood, Robin Jendryaszek, Jennifer WinterRose, Amber Feldman, Summer Donovan, Michele Mountain, Nancy Calvert-Warren, Jennifer Klettke, Kristen Moutry, Caryn Johnson, Datura Matel

    Music: Original songs (lyrics and music) by Austin Nuckols (Maison DuBois, Lakay Laveau, Casa Calisaylá and House Croatan) and Leah K. Blue (Dan Obeah), lyrics to New World Magischola Anthem by Maury Brown and Ben Morrow, music by Austin Nuckols. Other music and sound by Evan Torner and Austin Shepherd

    Props: Mike Young, Carrie Matteoli, Indiana Thomas, Summer Donovan, Kevin Donovan, Gordon Olmstead-Dean, Jason Morningstar, Matt Taylor, Molly Ellen Miller, Michael Boyd, Moira Parham, Martin John Manco, Ken Brown, Dale, Laura Young, Harry Lewis, Mark Daniels, Michael Pucci, Terry Smith of Stagecoach Theater Productions, Yvonne and Dirk Parham, Jen Wong, Caryn Johnson, Jess Pestlin, Orli Nativ, Kaitlin Smith, The Center for the Arts of Greater Manassas at the Candy Factory, Melissa Danielle Penner, Jess Sole, Liselle Awwal, Nathan Love.

    Helpers and advisors: Anders Berner, Claus Raasted, Christopher Sandberg, Mike Pohjola, Bjarke Pedersen, Johanna Koljonen, Anne Serup Grove, Mikolaj Wicher, Jamie MacDonald, Eevi Korhonen, Markus Montola, Jaakko Stenros, Staffan Rosenberg, Anna Westerling, Michael Pucci, Ashley Zdeb, Emily Care Boss, Daniel Hocutt, Charles Bo Nielsen, Joe Ennis, Kristin Bezio, Rob Balder, Kat Jones, Sarah Lynne Bowman, Harrison Greene.

    Assistance with writing, editing, graphic design, music, art: Frank Beres, Claus Raasted, Richard Wetzel, Bethy Winkopp, Oriana Almquist, Craig Anderson, Zach Shaffer, Erica Schoonmaker, Madeleine Wodjak, Toivo Voll, Marie DelRio, Mike Young, Laura Young, Anna Yardney, Lee Parmenter, Stephanie Simmons, Nancy Calvert-Warren, Jessica Acker, Jason Woodland, Jason Arne, Harrison Greene, Sarah Lynne Bowman, Kristi Kalis, Quinn Milton, Anna Kovatcheva, Browning Porter, Orli Nativ, Rhiannon Chiacchiaro, Miranda Chadbourne, Lars Bundvad, Ffion Evans, David Horsh, Dani Castillo, Frank Caffran Castillo, Dayna Lanza, Sarah Brand, Tara Clapper, Suzy Pop, David Neubauer, Chris Bergstresser, Jason Morningstar, Evan Torner, Peter Woodworth, Peter Svensson, Daniel Abraham, Harry Lewis, Alexis Moisand, Alissa Erin Murray, Jennifer Klettke, Kathryn Sarah, Elsa Sjunneson-Henry, Austin Nuckols, Leah Blue, Joelle Scarnati, Dan Luxenberg, Chad Brinkley, David Clements, Niels Ull Harremoës, Adria Kyne, Emily Heflin.

    Production and logistics: Austin Shepherd, Claus Raasted, Olivia Anderson, Kristin Bezio, Shayna Alley, Mike Young, Zach Shaffer, Dayna Lanza, Derek Herrera, Kristin Moutrey, Jenny Underwood, Jennifer WinterRose, Caryn Johnson, Amber Feldman, Michele Mountain, Summer Donovan, Robin Jendryaszek, Jennifer Klettke, Datura Metel, Amanda Schoen, Mark Mensch, Katherine McConnell, Chris Bergstresser, Christopher Amherst, Holly Butterfield, Uriah Brown, Kyle Lian, Evan Torner, Jeff Moxley, Ashley Zdeb, Thomas Haynes, Mikolaj Wicher, David Donaldson, Brandy Dilworth and the staff of the University of Richmond Summer Conference Services office.

  • Gertrudes möhippa – A Near-successful Crossover of Larp and Theater

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    Gertrudes möhippa – A Near-successful Crossover of Larp and Theater

    By

    Annika Waern

    Recently, the Royal Dramatic theater (Dramaten) in Stockholm staged its first larp ever. Gertrudes Möhippa (Gertrude’s Bachelorette: for brevity I’ll use Gertrude) was designed and produced by Jesper Berglund and Christopher Sandberg and staged twice on successive days, with a maximum of 180 participants in each run. I participated in the second run.

    A Crossover Design

    Gertrude was a fascinating production, balancing between theater and larp and the expectations of mainstream theater reviewers, newcomers and experienced larpers. Briefly, Gertrude staged the bachelorette party for Hamlet’s mother Queen Gertrude, taking place on the evening before her wedding to Claudius, brother of her former husband. Gertrude herself was played by Arja Saijonmaa, a well-known Finnish singer and actor. Her bridesmaids, Claudius, and some other roles were also played by actors, and throughout the larp, there were also ghosts present; shadow players played by actors, who were invisible to the characters and could whisper to players to direct their play. The audience/players were all guests at the bachelorette. Players had full-fledged characters and belonged to different cliques – smaller groupings of players (about 25–30 in each) that had their own backstories (not from Hamlet).

    The central theme of Gertrude was guilt and redemption. Anyone who has read or seen Hamlet knows that Claudius has murdered his brother, and this is of course the backdrop of the theme – the players do not know if Gertrude was an accomplice in the murder. The cliques had similar back stories; dark events where it was unclear whom to blame.

    The larp was heavily railroaded, partly as a result of the merge of larp and theater, and partly to make it easier for newcomers. There was no off-game workshopping or clear larp start: some people went into character right on arrival at Dramaten, whereas others eased into their roles more gradually. On arrival, we signed in with the bridesmaids and met our cliques for a while, to prepare for Gertrude’s arrival at the party. Next, we were seated in the main theater salon, and allowed to interact with the main bridesmaid Nila who gave us some instructions (Don’t break anything! Be kind to each other!) and instructed us on what to do when Gertrude arrived. This whole scene was pretty much standard interactive theater: we had some things to do (throw stuff on-stage and cheer), and we could interact with the actors. Gertrude herself was happy and welcoming, and very much in love!

    The next scene was played outside Dramaten, where we staged bachelorette-style pranks for Gertrude and her bridesmaids. This also gave us time to interact with other players (and with people on the streets who wondered what was going on). Back inside the theater, we were all called onto the main stage (it is HUGE and fit us all!) to stage a final prank for Gertrude, now joined by Claudius. This scene got nasty. Egged on by the actors, players started to question Gertrude and Claudius about the late king’s death, and eventually the king and queen fled, angry and hurt. The bridesmaids also left at this time, which allowed the players to go into a more sandbox style of larping. For a couple of hours, we were free to play on the storylines of the cliques, conspire to replace Gertrude and Claudius with a new ruler, or just ad-lib plotlines of our own. The larp ended with another scripted on-stage scene, leading up to the beginning of Hamlet.

    While Gertrude mixed larp and interactive theater elements, I would argue that it is hard to find another term than larp to describe it (although my Facebook friend who called it a “selfie larp party” was not far off). All participants had characters and backstories, and there was a fair amount of time allotted for sandbox-style play. It shared both the railroaded storyline and the use of theater scenes with Inside Hamlet, and that was definitely still a larp. It also matters that Gertrude was marketed as larp: the producers used this term to distance their artistic vision from that of immersive theater such as Punchdrunk’s Sleep No More.

    Review

    I think it is fair to assume that Gertrude was designed to be accessible to people who had very little larp experience, who expected to interact with something theatrical, and who had no interest in reading, or intention to read, complicated instructions beforehand. From this perspective, I find the overall design brilliant. Starting and ending with theater scenes made the overall structure that of a theater play. The strongly controlled activities in the beginning, greeting Gertrude on-stage and staging pranks in the city, allowed players to ease into their roles and the interaction with other players. When most of the actors left the larp about halfway through, all participants were well into larping. The final scene was intense and well-acted, and worked well to end the larp.

    Personally, I had a lot of fun playing Gertrude. Just think about it: “I have actually been playing on the big stage at Dramaten!” I had tweaked my character to be geared towards rapid development of scenes with just about anybody I met (she was an ugly but filthy rich crook constantly looking for new lovers of all genders), and this created a lot of brief, fun moments during the larp.

    Despite this, Gertrude was not an entirely successful design. The main problem was that it was confusing: it was unclear when the larp started, and it was difficult to understand what was going on in the ending scene. It was difficult to understand when we were expected to obey the actors, and when we could interact freely with them (this is a very typical problem for interactive theater). We who played ‘central’ and ‘court’ roles were instructed to take responsibility to drive play for others, but doing so was very difficult when we know so little about when that was appropriate, and what was going to happen. It was difficult for cliques to arrange meetings in-larp to play out their internal plots. And so on.

    Even the fact that Gertrude was fun, and fun throughout, was actually problematic. When Gertrude came back in the last scene, she had changed from the initial loving and welcoming woman into a bitter and vengeful queen who did not shrink from murder. To make that change effective, the sandbox larp would have needed to develop somewhat similarly, to become gradually more uncomfortable, oppressive or outright scary. Instead, most of us just went on partying.

    Gertrudes möhippa (play, Annika Bäckström)

    Communication Issues

    Claus Raasted recently published an excellent blog post with tips to organizers. All of his tips are gold, but the one that I want to focus on here is this one:

    “Communication matters. A lot. A lot a lot. In the end, larps (mostly) come alive because the players make them do so, just like a film actor makes a character description become a living, breathing character. The tricky thing here is that we (usually) don’t have directors standing around telling us precisely what to do.”

    The tickets to Gertrude were sold from the home page of Dramaten, and it is important to understand that this was the only web page for the production. During recent years, it has become more or less standard for larp to rely on a carefully produced website, where players can find information on practicalities, the diegetic setting, the design vision, roles, rules and meta-techniques, and the larp schedule including potential pre-game workshops. The communication format for larp has been standardised this way because it works. Needless to say, the Dramaten home page does not support this, so for Gertrude the organizers had to rely on a number of other information sources. The most important information came in the role manuscript and the 65 page Bachelorette magazine, both distributed about a month before the larp. Other information resources included a Pinterest board for costume inspiration, links to documents with information about how to read the role manuscript, tips on how to play the larp, and many information posts in the Facebook group for the larp. Effectively, the lack of information on the website turned into a massive information overflow problem: very often I would vaguely remember that I had read something important somewhere – with no chance of finding it again.

    Adding to the information issue was that the larp was not transparent (as we were supposed to follow along with the railroaded structure) and that central information was written as in-game information. In particular, the Bachelorette magazine existed in the fiction and we could talk about it in-game. Also the role manuscripts were partly written from a first-hand perspective of the character. Now, communicating within the fiction was common in the nineties as well as in the Alternate Reality games from about ten years ago, but has fallen a bit out of fashion, as clear off-game information is currently seen as more supportive of play. This meant that the lack of clear off-communication upset many players (including me) prior to the game. In hindsight, I think this may again have been an aesthetic design choice inspired by the desire to be accessible to novice players. While clear instructions and off-game information may be useful for shaping play, but they are also a pretty boring read…

    I think this was a mistake. Effectively, the lack of clear off-game instructions meant that most of the rules and meta-techniques were not communicated beforehand, but left to us to figure out during play. The use of ghosts was the only rule that was communicated in advance, and even that rule was somewhat unclear (more about that below). Despite this, the game was actually quite rules-heavy. Here are some examples of rules that were not communicated beforehand:

    • When seated in the main salon, obey the actors on the scene as well as the ghosts.
    • Every clique has their own meeting place, signified by their totem.
    • Black glasses contain poison.
    • Black paper flowers have some kind of meaning (I never figured that one out).

    Some of these I figured out during play, others I only understood after the larp when talking to other players.

    The Ghosts

    The design motivation for leaving so much out might have been the use of ghosts. Both the role manuscript and the Bachelorette magazine contained a page about ghosts, with the instruction “don’t talk about them, pretend that they are not there, mimic their emotions, listen and obey”. They were also nicely demonstrated during Nila’s introduction scene. Notice how Claus wrote that “we (usually) don’t have directors standing around telling us precisely what to do” – but when shadow players are present, there is actually a direct way to instruct larpers in their play. But again, this brief instruction above was all the information that we got about them. Their role in the larp was unclear. Were they there to teach us the rules? Were they there to suggest interesting developments for a player or group, or were they there to control the overall dramatic arc? This lead to some players refusing to take instructions or avoid playing with them. What I found most difficult was how to work with the instructions from a ghost after interacting with them. For example, when entering Dramaten after playing outdoors, the ghosts were standing at the entrance mimicking wind sounds. We played this as a moment of chill, maybe a foreshadowing, but we immediately threw off the feeling to maintain a party attitude – and the event was soon forgotten.

    This brief moment illustrates the strong role that ghosts could have had, not only to introduce inspirations and create moments of interesting play, but to affect the overall mood and dramatic curve of the larp. In Cabaret, we used a thin form of fate play to control the overall dramatic arc, by separating the larp into three acts with explicit mood themes. In Gertrude, there was no such development (at least not in the run in which I participated) – but the ghosts could have been used for this purpose. Their role could have been to influence play to become gradually more unforgiving and oppressive, preparing the players for the final scene. However, this would have required players to cooperate – and we didn’t know enough of their purpose to do so.

    Conclusion

    To conclude, I see Gertrude as a missed opportunity. Through being staged at Dramaten and through its central design choices, the production came close to becoming that hybrid form between larp and theater that would open up larp to a wider audience. But as usual in play design, the devil is in the detail – and for larp, this very often comes down to careful pre-game communication.

    Gertrudes möhippa (play, Annika Bäckström)


    Cover photo: Gertrude and the bachelorette party out on the town (Play, Annika Bäckström). All other photos by Annika Bäckström.


    Gertrudes möhippa (Gertrude’s Bachelorette)

    Production: Jesper Berglund (Writer & Director), Christopher Sandberg (Writer & Director),

    Make-up: Barbro Forsgårdh & Nathalie Pujol

    Costume: Bea Szenfeld (Gertrude’s outfit), Carina Bornsäter, Mikael Mohlin, Linnea Brun, Barbro Hellsing, Anna Karin Henriksson, Karin Victor, Annelie Johansson, Ewa Johansson, Pia Pernhem, Monica Jansson, Jan Johansson, Kerstin Jeppson, Lotta-Maja Öhman & Cassandra Sandberg

    Music: Lilla Lovis (Vocals) & Niclas Lindgren (audio)

    Actors: Arja Saijonmaa (Gertrude), Malin Arvidsson (Nila, Best Woman), Karin Bengtsson (Ghost), Filip Alexanderson (Ghost), David Book (Ghost), Majken Pollack (Ghost), Anette Skåhlberg (Ghost), Ola Wallinder (Ghost), Niklas Hagen (Ghost), Anna Mannerheim (Bridesmaid), Anna Svensson Kundromichalis (Bridesmaid), Rebecka Pershagen (Bridesmaid), Cecilia Klingspor (Bridesmaid), Josefine Tengblad (Bridesmaid), Maja Frydén (Bridesmaid), Per Lasson & Magnus Hammer

    Date: June 7 & 8, 2016

    Location: Dramaten (Royal Dramatic Theatre), Stockholm, Sweden

    Duration: 5 hours per run

    Participants: 180 per run

    Participation Fee: €35 (simple character), €55 (advanced character) & €75 (most advanced character, including costuming)

    Game Mechanics: Shadows, cut-scenes, diegetic information

    Website: http://www.dramaten.se/Repertoar-arkiv/Gertrudes-mohippa/

  • The Legend of Percival – Larping in Babylon

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    The Legend of Percival – Larping in Babylon

    By

    Andrea Giovannucci

    In September 2015, in the city of Rome, the Chaos League organized The Legend of Percival (La leggenda di Parsifal); a pervasive larp which cannibalised reality for a few days by asking its players to play the role of outcasts in search of their own physical and mental place: A search conducted within and without the self. Set in modern times and inspired by the works of Terry Gilliam (The Fisher King, 1991), Jim Jarmusch (Ghost Dog, 1999) and Alan Moore (V for Vendetta, 1982), the event was designed to delve into the concepts of marginality and morality.

    The characters played in The Legend of Percival all shared a painful personal history and were persuaded to be the moral heirs of the legendary knight Percival. Their attempt was to establish a new community – the reborn Camelot – on values such as mutuality, moderation and strict adherence to the inflexible moral code of medieval knights. Plunged into the throbbing heart of a chaotic Rome, they struggled against the annihilation of humanity.

    Needless to say, the underlying objective of this larp was to stimulate an unbiased debate about modern society – overwhelmed by individualistic views and interested only in the accumulation of superfluous objects – through the fictional expedient of larp. The style of play was 360° degrees illusion, without interruption and without use of meta-techniques.

    Collaborative Writing

    First step in Camelot
    First step in Camelot.

    Before actually playing, participants created their characters under the guidance and supervision of the organisers. In outlining their personal traits, players were asked to give special attention to the construction of what was labelled the “pillar collapse”. This meant a traumatic event supposed to be the starting point of a death–rebirth process for each character. In layman’s terms, the “pillar collapse” could be represented by a bereavement in one’s family or by disturbing experiences able to make the characters question everything in which they firmly believed, able to shake their ideas and their way of life.

    Simultaneously, players were asked to begin to follow a training course, which would put them in an exact mental and physical state to face the larp properly. Participants were assigned meditation and breathing exercises (partly borrowed from the Zen tradition), which were to be performed on a daily basis for two weeks before the beginning of the game. For example, some of the assignments were based on selective auditory drills of self-listening and surrounding environment listening, in order to trigger an improved mastery of one’s interior space. The final goal of such training was to prepare players to the rhythms and concepts they would face during the live event, to reduce the impact with a reality very different from their everyday life.

    The third phase of the “diffused game” (a pre-game stage which took place entirely online) introduced characters to the inner workings of the game.

    Players had a series of clues to follow (the so-called “signs”), which showed similarities to a recently discovered ancient prophecy concerning Percival. In these analogies they recognized (or thought they did) their own personal histories. This led them to believe they were the recipients of the prophecy and were therefore called to action.

    Knights dormitory
    Knights dormitory.

    The Signs

    One of the main narrative devices of the game was that of the “signs”. These were enigmatic epiphanies that characters could grasp and freely decipher by virtue of their own peculiarity and eccentricity. Asked to interpret marginalized and cast out people, players were invited to construct their characters as slightly out-of-the-ordinary individuals who could be easily mistaken for hopeless misfits or weirdos in the eyes of the public. Yet, their unconventional behaviour became their strength as they were the only ones able to actually read the “signs” hidden in apparently disconnected fragments of reality. So, for instance, a strange stain of paint turned into a dragon and was interpreted as the coming of an evil creature; an inscription on a wall became a coded message to be cracked; an e-mail announced the advent of a Herald. Almost everything in the outside world – and, more interesting, outside the game – could be re-framed, re-contextualised and re-interpreted in the light of the prophecy, as an alternative reality which ran underneath the conventional reality. Obviously, many of these signs were revealed to be dead leads (in the sense that they were not intentionally placed by organisers), mind tricks which nonetheless fit perfectly in the picture of a quest where knights are expected to learn and where mistakes are part of the process.

    Fighting training
    Fighting training.

    In particular, many characters started to believe in self-induced signs thanks to a great number of off-game coincidences. These turned out to be consistent since the players themselves were trying to make them coherent and consistent with the whole story. This helped to build up the overall context of the game by adding more depth to the narrative and by increasing the ability of players to perceive what surrounded them.

    When considering that the play area was very wide (the city of Rome covers about 1285 square kilometers) and that the game included the possibility to move freely in the city after sunset, one can easily figure out to what extent players were encouraged to stay focused and filter reality through the lens of the game, thus increasing the feeling of self-estrangement. Pushed to the limit of their own psychological capability, they actually reached a new and exceptional awareness which helped them to move smoothly in the urban fabric.

    The Code

    The Knight’s Code of Behaviour that players were asked to follow was partly adapted from the original Medieval Code of Chivalry and partly invented from scratch. It served as a compass to find the way for soul searching and spiritual salvation. Each knight’s duty was to study and apply it to the letter every day. The code not only represented the cornerstone of the community but was the innermost spiritual aspiration all should strive for during the game.

    From a game design perspective, it ensured the focus on aspects deemed interesting and stimulating by the organisers. It included 13 strict rules, of which the following is an extract:

    A piece of the Prophecy written on a wall
    A piece of the Prophecy written on a wall.

    1) I apply myself to loving my brothers and sisters more than myself, and to seeing only the worth of my fellow Knights.

    3) I apply myself to possessing nothing and to living frugally.

    4) I apply myself to training at the first hours of daylight; to exercising the body in the morning and the mind in the afternoon. Only after twilight will I step outside the community walls to face the world.

    5) I apply myself at all times to speaking the truth, no matter what the cost.

    6) I apply myself to talking only if I have something to say.

    12) I apply myself to constantly observing my flaws and to disposing of them.

    Everyday life
    Everyday life.

    The Quest

    Theoretically speaking, the problematization of an issue means to pose the correct opponents as obstacles. In The Legend of Percival the focus was not on the conflicts between players, but rather on the challenge of building a close-knit community which struggles against external forces. On one side, one finds an internal adversary represented by the former “self” of characters; an enemy within, against whom every player was supposed to measure themselves. The strict adherence to the code proved a very difficult test that required sacrifice and self-control in a continuous strife to improve. On the other side, the external opponent was embodied by a corrupt politician who sought to drive the knights out of “Camelot” to build a gigantic shopping centre in the area they inhabited. He epitomised a diseased strain of society and its perverse egotistical dynamics. His strategy was to depict the knights as deviant and dangerous individuals who could possibly harm the general public. Should the knights back down, relinquish their faith in the prophecy and return to their former lives or stand their ground and face the consequences?

    Spaces

    King Arthur speak to her knights
    King Arthur speak to her knights.

    Rome is known worldwide as a city full of ancient monuments and fascinating history. It is, however, also a chaotic, noisy and tortuous metropolis where people are easily marginalized. The Chaos League envisioned it as a modern Babylon in contrast to the peaceful Zen-like sanctuary the warrior-monks were called to recreate in an abandoned train station. Of course, some aspects of the spatial background were exaggerated – above all as regards the degradation and grotesqueness of people and places – in order to create an uncanny and distressing collective imagery of urban life. For instance, one of the highlight scenes of the game took place during a 4000-people rave party with deafening electronic music and blinding lights. Here, surrounded by smoke and sweat, the knights had to look for a man whose face was unknown. Strangers in a crowd, they had to find the missing link to the resolution of their quest. The organisers’ wish was to put players in the unusual situation of estranged beholders of everyday life who are unable to comprehend and come to terms with the contradictions of our shallow Western society.

    Media and Reception

    The White Rabbit Messenger
    The White Rabbit Messenger.

    The Legend of Percival – which received the endorsement of Terry Gilliam in a funny video shot by some organisers attending a conference at which he was a guest – was a successful media event. Professional photographer Andrea Buccella documented the game in an extensive photo-reportage by taking part in the event as a player. Another participant, screenwriter and filmmaker Mariano Di Nardo, recorded a four-episode documentary “from within” which was aired on national radio (RaiRadio3) and heard by a large audience (approximately 530,000 listeners). Many participants praised the event as well. Some were so affected by their mission as knights they went as far as stating that they would be willing to make use of the teachings of the Code in their real everyday life.

    Conclusions

    The Knights looking for someone in a real rave
    The Knights looking for someone in a real rave.

    The Legend of Percival proved an extremely complex larp to manage and organise. It took many months of work and employed the whole team of organisers. When we started sketching the overall game design we did not know how it would go, especially with regard to what the players would be able to grasp and appreciate about the inner search around which the whole larp revolved. Nothing of the kind had ever been attempted in Italy before, and this increased the degree of uncertainty. Yet, at the same time, the knowledge of being the first thus far to research and experiment gave us the resolve and willpower to realise this ambitious project in the end.

    We are very satisfied with what we achieved, even though we are aware The Legend of Percival is not a larp suitable for all tastes (if ever there was one!). It is unquestionably more suitable for people open to self-questioning and to testing their intellectual potentials since it requires an elevated degree of emotional involvement and blending.

    It was nevertheless a successful gamble, although some critical issues emerged which need to be re-examined and sorted out for the future. Reassessment especially concerns how to structure and manage long hours of silence and meditation in the game and how to convey the style of play to newcomers. Critiques aside, The Legend of Percival was a highly demanding, highly intimate game where participants were called to play in all honesty, without exterior barriers or masks. It required dedication and concentration from everyone, above all from our players, the ever-present focus of all our creative endeavours.

    Camelot
    Camelot

    The Legend of Percival

    Credits: The Chaos League

    Date: September 3–6, 2015

    Location: Rome, Italy

    Duration: 4 days

    Participants: 80

    Budget: €13,000

    Participation Fee: €170

    Game Mechanics: Diffused game, pre-game collaborative writing of characters

    Website: http://chaosleague.org/


    This article was initially published in The Nordic Larp Yearbook 2015 published by Rollespilsakademiet and edited by Charles Bo Nielsen, Erik Sonne Georg, et al.

    Cover photo: Shadow over Camelot (Pre-game, Andrea Buccella). Other photos by Andrea Buccella.