October 13, 2024

The role-playing conversation according to Archipelago

Not every conversation is the same,

that's what makes comparing role-playing games to one so effective. The flow, the tone, the subject matter of a conversation—they all depend on the participants and the occasion. A round-table is not a sidebar, nor can a therapy session be confused with talking shop. You take turns! More or less strictly. And in a good conversation, the participants are all engaged with and interested in each other. Otherwise, the discussion turns into a monologue, or a knotty mess of loose threads.

Where ordinary conversations have an implicit, loose structure, role-playing games use explicit guidelines and rules to steer the conversation into their preferred direction. With enough codification, the analogy can become an abstraction, but not so for Archipelago. Often described as a freeform role-playing game, Archipelago is maybe more accurately described as a conversational story game.

Taking turns

Matthijs Holter developed Archipelago to play fantasy epics, stories with several important characters that are swept up in historic events.¹ That is not to say the game can't handle more modest, smaller-scale drama, but drama is a minimum. The game is up to its third edition, and is a GM-less story game (and a free pdf).

In Archipelago, every player controls a major character. Each player is also responsible for an important aspect of the setting, 'such as magic, geography and culture'. The players take turns framing a scene that spotlights their protagonist. The rest of the players narrate other parts of the fiction, like supporting characters or descriptions of the environment.

How does the game keep that from becoming a, how did I put it, knotty mess of loose threads? Well, that's where "destiny points" and Archipelago's specific set of conversational tools come in.

Sharing direction

After creating a setting, characters and relationships, but before someone frames the first scene of the session, Archipelago asks the players to set destiny points for each other.² A destiny point is a significant event that will happen in the life of a player character that session.

The beauty is that in Archipelago you write those session goals for the other players. Holter gives some examples, like: 'He finds his brother dying of thirst in the West Reaches.' Or: 'He opens the portal to the Land of the Dead.' You get one to three from each fellow player, and choose one from that hand-made pick list of destinies. Also, they're not just for you. Destinies are public. You'll work together to incorporate them.

This way, the conversation has a conclusion, so to say, and you're playing to find a way to reach them. As Holter puts it: 'It's what keeps the stories tight, what stops them from just flowing out and ending nowhere.' Moreover, the responsibility for directing the story is shared from the very beginning.

Codified conversation

On your turn, you are privileged to do three things: set the stage, portray your character, and finish the scene.³ So far so ordinary. To create a consistent, collaborative and interesting conversation, everyone also has access to Archipelago's conversational tools, including the player who's framing the scene. They are:

• Say Try a different way
• Say Describe that in detail
• Say That Might Not Be Quite So Easy
• Say I'd like an interlude
• Say Harder
• Say Help
• Create or play a secondary character
• Describe events and the environment

Only one of these falls within the realm of what you'd usually call a "mechanic". Once per turn, any player can trigger Archipelago's resolution mechanic, to make a conflict or challenge a little more exciting. After they say That Might Not Be Quite So Easy, the spotlighted player asks another player to draw a resolution card and interpret it. They contain phrases like No, and or Yes, but. It's simple way to insert surprise into a scene, but only if someone thinks it's interesting.

The rest of the conversational tools are permissions and interjections. Ask a player to retry a bit of narration if you're unhappy with the tone or direction.⁴ Ask for more details, for more intensity, or just for a little help when you're stuck. Introduce someone to the scene or tell the others how you picture the events that are happening.

To some, these might look a little obvious. You could use most of these, let's call them moves, in any game you're playing, and most sessions would be better for it. But in Archipelago, these basic conversational options are no longer implicit. And by codifying them, they become the game. A game of shared narrative responsibility.

Universal story game

Archipelago puts its conversational moves in front of the players and says: this is how you can help create an interesting story. Every option seems to originate from the desire to write a framework that will support coherent, daring storytelling. By putting it in the hands of all the players, it distributes control and responsibility for that story equally. It gives players equal control over the tone and content of the story, keeps them from pulling their punches, and helps them to signal what's important to them.

Try to picture these moves on a reference sheet, just like the rules of any other game. Now you're looking down to find the ways you can support, push, or inspire the players who are narrating a scene. Maybe you see an interesting turning point, or something you'd like to know more about, or maybe you'd like to prompt the other players to support you. It's all there.

If I could be tempted to serve up a hot take, I'd call Archipelago a universal story game. I suspect it has its own implicit tendencies and shortcomings, but for now, if anyone ever asks what the so-called conversation is, I'll probably show them Matthijs Holter's free pdf.

That's it for now,

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