Cardboard Diagnosis

Let me tell you three tales.

The first is a few friends got together and we played some board games, eventually we settled in for a game of Wiz-War. If you’re unfamiliar with the game, it is a capture the flag style game where wizards use bullshit powers on each other until someone scores two points. One point for kills, one point for getting an opponent’s treasure chest onto your home square. I did not have the expansion that bumped it up to five players, so I sat out as I was the most familiar with this game and all of the out of left field nonsense you can do. Exiting the Midgame, two players remained with one point earned via delivering a fatal blow to an opponent. For either player to win, transporting a chest or finagling a kill would be required. It was close but my friend managed to pull it off and his opponent was very upset because it was sort of a ‘win out of nowhere’ but that’s Wiz-War for you. How did she decide to graciously concede victory?

We played on the floor because it was a bachelor apartment, so I when I say she proceeded to roll around on the floor, crying tears and demanding why such an unfair thing happened, I am not exaggerating. It was such an odd reaction that my secondhand embarassment was so high I didn’t touch board games for a few years after that.

This Isn’t the First Time Meeting

The second is mentioning to a group of friends that I run a Dungeons and Dragons game at a BBQ. One of them seemed so overly eager that I was suspicious, especially since I know that isn’t the typical reaction. She talked enough that it jogged my memory of us playing board games years ago when the BBQ host dragged her to a board game Meetup. There, we played Whitehall Mystery, a One-vs-All Hidden Movement game where three of the four players are detectives working together to corner and capture the fourth who plays Jack the Ripper. As one of the detectives, the overly enthusiastic player was bored with Whitehall and instead of saying so or graciously playing along to end the game, she chose to sit silently and stew. With her deciding to stop playing entirely without leaving the table, the other two players decided to take her turns for her while she sat at the table after braving the awkwardness.

Lastly, a friend asked to bring someone in to West Marches Dungeons and Dragons game I am running. The newcomer picked up a Staff of Fire that was otherwise languishing in party’s loot collection. Sure, I expected him to see Fireball-shaped solutions to every single problem because we all know how hammers see problems. What I didn’t expect was when the party stayed at a fortress they were in the process of renovating and their druidic allies approached, asking them to stop have the hirelings chop down nearby trees. When talking to the newcomer, the request was a polite ask instead of the fire and brimstone typically called down on encroaching civilization by druidic sects. I did not expect this newbie to shrug and decide to begin blasting Fireballs after negotation ‘broke down’ when he did the controversial, yet safe decision of trying nothing before immediately choosing violence.

So Anyways, I Started Blasting

This decision to carelessly kill the party’s druidic allies set back a player’s literal months of work on making this fortress inhabitable for the entire mercenary company. Worse yet, during the ensuing fight he began to pout when the remaining druidic forces did not crumble and were about to overwhelm him if not for the rest of the players coming to his rescue.

I will be the first to admit that RPGs can be Sociopath Simulators but at least with the first two, I knew not to add those players to my games. I find board games to be a great way to find out if someone is a good fit for your games without having to throw someone into the deep end. When I asked my friend about Fireball Frank, he admitted to never playing games with him.

From the person teaching the game or hosting the board game night, you get to see someone’s character. How they deal with bullshit situations, as those can arise in some games. Do they deal with opposition and lose gracefully? Are they a good sportsman when winning or do they turn sour at the hint of a loss? When they play, do they spend an unreasonable amount of time to you contemplating their moves or they are respectful of everyone’s time?

Because I am told that I am extra, I do have a final tale for you. When I sold my copy of Roll Player to a friend we were talking about the difference between board games and RPGs, as she had recently pulled life support from her first campaign. I said I found that there is little difference, as the host of a board game still has the same responsibilities as a Game Master: you need to know the rules, be impartial and fair, be able to gently correct oversights and ensuring those who have trusted you with their time to be enjoying themselves.

The only difference is you share less of yourself when playing a board game, which is less fulfilling but at least you’ve protected your heart from being bruised at the callousness of your players.