Nothing in this game works without a connection.
You can run the most finely crafted dungeon, write the most terrifying villain, drip suspense like wax onto the map, but if there’s no connection at the table, it falls flat.
No tension. No stakes. No spark.
Because in the end, this is a shared experience. Between players and the DM. Between the characters and the world. And, maybe most importantly, between the characters themselves.
We talk a lot about storytelling in RPGs. Plot arcs. Mystery reveals. The slow burn of occult horror. But the game isn’t just what happens. It is who it happens to, and why that matters.
Suspense only works if the players care.
Horror only works if the players believe in it.
Mystery only works if the players want to know more.
Danger only matters if they don’t want to lose what they’ve found.
Daggerheart is good at this. So is Blue Rose. They help foster connections that matter. Even the FFG/Edge Star Wars I have been dipping into has this. It’s not really new, of course, we did this a lot with DC Heroes and Marvel Super Heroes.
That’s why I care so much about connection in my games. The bonds between players and characters are the emotional engine behind everything else. When those bonds are strong, everything hits harder. The betrayal cuts deeper. The rescue means more. The shared victory feels earned. It makes the stakes feel higher and the victories feel better.
Sometimes this connection happens naturally. A few good players click, and suddenly you’ve got a party dynamic that could fuel an entire campaign. Other times, you have to work for it. Give them moments to talk. Space to share. Conflicts that force them to choose each other over the easier road.
And it’s not just about the characters. It’s about the people at the table.
As a DM, I try to read the room. I listen. I adjust. I check in. Because every suspenseful pause, every creepy whisper, every climactic reveal, only works if the players trust me enough to lean in. That connection is the unspoken contract we all agree to when we sit down and roll dice together.
Even when I’m building strange, mythic, symbolic games, when the world feels uncanny and the magic is layered with secrets, what holds it all together is the bond.
Between the witch and her familiar. The rogue and her rival. The paladin and his doubts. The players, sitting together in a shared dream.
Connection makes it real. Connection makes it matter.
And without it?
You’re just telling stories in the dark, hoping someone’s still listening.
Questions
What. Grateful. Rule. I might have answered this one or some variation of it. What rule am I grateful for Rule #0 that says the GM can change what they need to.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you so much for your comment. Due to high levels of spam I have comment moderation turned on. Your post will appear after it has been approved.