From the Norwegian-Style Short Games session, Sunday morning at HarperCon '08. Players: myself, Jackson, Matthew, Marcy, and Chris (facilitating).

I think we pretty much played the game as written here. Jackson had been pushing all weekend to run the game under starlight, but most of us were reeling about with exhaustion after the Saturday late night slot. We made do by going upstairs in John's office to play under the skylight, which did a lot to lend things a gentle glow.

Why Do You Believe?

Marcy had the longest hair (though not by much) and so went first. Her vignette was about going camping in the North Woods with her father, who had vanished from her side while the two of them were counting the known constellations (a phrase which, Jackson later said, really captured him). He came back two days later and told her stories of his experience with the aliens, and spent the rest of his life trying to recontact them; Marcy's character had taken up his work.

I was to her right, so I went next. (I've just realized that this is completely not clockwise--Jackson, did I step on your toes?) My character was a parent (a mother, though that never got clarified) who came home one day to find her car wrecked, the windows of her house broken, and a "strange quality" to the grass of her lawn... and her son missing. The police said he ran away, but I was convinced he'd been abducted. I couldn't go back to the house, which was why I was living on the streets now, waiting for them to bring him back.

Matthew's character had been contacted many times by aliens, who called him a name he couldn't pronounce or translate, but that roughly meant "tuning fork." A benevolent race of aliens was trying to warn him and indeed all humanity about another race that wanted to do us harm.

Chris's character was a young child who had had an out-of-body experience while nearly drowning in a swimming pool, during which she saw huge gray faces and felt their hands tugging at her (including, in a lovely phrase that was her only gender-revealing detail, at the barrette in her hair).

Jackson's character had started rising at dawn and going to the roof of his apartment building to look out over the city (he later realized that he did so for the first time on the solstice). The traffic patterns and the lines and edges of the buildings at sunrise had gradually revealed themselves to him, as a steganographic message saying... um, actually I don't remember what they were saying.

A Pause

We paused.

The Arrival

Apparently I'm just about six months younger than Jackson, so I went first here. Chris later noted that we went around (or rather back-and-forth) once describing the world's reaction to the arrival, then each tied our characters into it.

I said that there were no ships or landings, but that all over the world certain people--tuning forks--began to glow and emit a quiet belling sound, telling the people around them that the time for delivery was nigh. After this I can't remember who said what, so I'm just going to spill as much as I remember; Chris pointed out that we were only supposed to say a couple sentences and pass it on, but we each ended up going for a paragraph or two.

The glowing people were particularly concentrated in the region of the North Forest, and soon many of them from around the world and their followers--who started calling themselves Tuners--gathered there to celebrate and await the arrival of the extraterrestrials. There were new constellations in the sky, and someone at NASA took photos of them in the infrared and ultraviolet range, overlaid them with photos of Earth from space and revealed the whole planet as a glowing mandala with all the lines leading to the North Forest.

As they waited, however, a schism grew amongst the Tuners--those who wanted to continue waiting, and those who were starting to doubt. Things started to get a little wild by night, with the younger members (including Chris's grade-schooler) running around and smashing stuff in an ecstasy of freedom. Things might have been exacerbated by the arrival of people like my character, who confronted one of the first Tuners (who shared an alley with her) and, upon finding out that her son wasn't coming to Earth with the aliens, beat him to death with a pry bar and headed to the North Forest to find someone who would tell her what she wanted to hear.

The Departure

We closed our eyes, held out our hands and turned them palm up (to indicate that we were going with the aliens when they finally arrived) or palm down (to say we weren't). The final tally was three going, two staying. I had actually had my hand down to start with, then felt compelled to turn it up at the last minute; Matthew, I think, had exactly the opposite experience.

Aftermath

We all agreed that the game had been not only fun, but really kind of solemn and hushed and enrapturing, without even a hint of humor (seriously the first RPG I have every played that didn't include jokes). The game worked beautifully at achieving what Chris wanted. Naturally, we tried to rewrite it for him within minutes of completing it. We wanted more rounds about the arrival, a way to indicate who had gone and how many times, and a shorter pause, I think.

Hmm, I'd say maybe half an hour total? What Do You Believe couldn't have taken more than ten minutes, then a one-minute pause, followed by I'd say fifteen to twenty minutes of Arrival. The Departure was pretty quick too, so combined with rules explanations as we went, yeah, maybe thirty to thirty-five minutes. (My sense of time is not great, so my fellow players should feel free to contradict me.)

Thanks for the segue, Chris!

That discussion about the rules of The Believers transitioned into one about a similar game Chris had wanted to write, about seances. We basically ended up playstorming the rules for it--called, consecutively, "The Seance," "Knock" and (per Jackson) "Nor-Ouija Board"--and trying our first session right at the same table.

The game begins with a medium, who might be a professional hired for this purpose or your slightly gothy friend who read about it in a book or whatever. They call the session to solemnity and announce the name of the deceased, then ask those present to go around and introduce themselves to help the deceased find her way there. This is also when everyone puts their hands under the table.

(Paraphrased AP below, as best I can remember it. Feel free to add or contradict, guys.)

Me: "Thanks for attending, everyone. We've come here to remember Azalea Heather-Winters, who has left us in this life, but can still speak to us from another. Let's all go around and tell her who we are and why we're here."
Marcy: "Hi, Azalea, it's me, your best friend Magnolia. I'm just so glad we're going to get to talk again."
Jackson: "Azalea? It's me, your sister Freya... I hope you can hear us."
Chris: "Well, I'm not sure if I believe this or not... but Azalea, if you're here, it's your mother Bea."
Matthew: "I'm Azalea's father, Joseph Heather-Winters, and I think this is a waste of time and money."
Medium: "All right, let's all try and picture Azalea just as she was the last time we saw her..."
Freya: "Does it have to be the last time we saw her?"
Magnolia: "Eww."
Medium: "The last time we saw her before the combine accident."

The medium then says that he can feel the deceased manifesting, and will be attempting to pass on images or emotions from her to everyone at the table. Players can ask questions, which will be answered by knocks from under the table: one knock for "yes," two for "no," three for a muddled answer or "I don't know," and four meaning that the deceased is done here and it's time to leave. If they questions are not yes-or-no in nature, the medium can attempt to get images, which may help formulating specific questions.

Medium: "Okay, I'm getting something... it's a piece of paper, possibly a magazine or a book. Can anyone think of anything related to Azalea and a book? Could be a phone book, or possibly a phone. Could also be a library..."
Magnolia: "Is it her diary?"
Medium: "Yes! Yes, it's definitely a diary, I can see the lock now."
Magnolia: "Azalea, are--are you angry at me for reading your diary?"
Table: "Knock."
Magnolia: "Oh no!"

The medium's role should be to basically direct question-traffic to different players as the game progresses, and also to do John Edwards-style free association in an attempt to spark connections or ideas for questions.

Medium: "Okay, I'm getting a letter now... it's a K. Does anyone associate a K with Azalea? Could also be an L, or an M. A K or an L, anyone? What about an R, an S, a T, an L or an E?"
Magnolia: "Kyle... Kyle Lindstrom?"
Table: "Knock."
Freya: "Azalea, did you write about you and Kyle in the diary?"
Table: "Knock."
Magnolia: "I swear I only read the first two pages!"
Table: "Knock knock."
Medium: "I'm getting something different now... I think it's a red, or possibly a blue car. Could also be a van. Does anyone know anything about Azalea and a car, or a limo? Or driving? Roads? A black, white or green car or bicycle?"
Magnolia: "Is it about Kyle's van?"
Joseph: "It could be me. Kyle works for me, he's my driver."
Table: "Knock."
Freya: "Azalea?" (gasp) "How did you know about me and Kyle's van?"
Bea: "Does this have something to do with Kyle's disappearance? Right around the time of your death?"
Table: "Knock."
Freya: "Were you in love with Kyle, Azalea?"
Table (from two different places) "Knock-knock."
Medium: "Okay, um... that's a no."
Joseph: "Someone comfort Magnolia. Freya, make her feel better."
Freya: "Um... there, there..."
Magnolia: (pinching her nose and squinting, trying not to crack up)

One basic framework Chris brought up was the template of Six Feet Under, except potentially much funnier: a set of family and friends who are so locked down and passive-aggressive that they have to pretend to summon a dead person and take turns knocking in order to communicate with each other.

Medium: "Something new now... I think it's a shovel. A shovel and digging, or dirt. Could also be some trees, does anyone have something about four pine trees? What about dirt? Sand? A beach? The ocean? Water, or a boat?"
Joseph: "My office is next to four pine trees by the ocean."
Medium: "Okay, okay, Azalea? Is there something you want to tell us about your father's office?"
Table: (from Joseph's side, loudly) "Knock knock knock knock."
Medium: "Oh, I guess she's leaving us for now. Let's all say goodbye to Azalea, everyone."
Bea: "Goodbye, sweetheart."
Freya: "I can't BELIEVE you got with Kyle!"

I'm really hoping Chris writes this up as a more formalized role-playing poem; I'm going to see if my writing group is willing to play it tonight!

Somehow I missed the fact that Chris was running not one but TWO new games of his own design at Go Play NW Jr.

I am sad. But it passes! Now I am happy, because now I know, and I can play them.

Also thanks to this thread I finally read the roleplaying poem thread.

HOLY SNAP.

Jackson, I love you even more now. Housebreaker is incredible. Gave me chills just reading it.

Brendan, your recall ability borders on a mutant superpower and I think you ought to head to Xavier's School at your earliest opportunity. Meanwhile, please continue to indulge us with such marvelous AP reports. Dang!