In the first installment of this series we looked at how Walt Disney World creates a series of integrated themes for visitors to explore, which is similar to how game masters create fantasy campaigns. In the second installment we reviewed the tricks amusement parks use to populate those worlds, a burden the GM bears in tabletop play. In this final installment we look at the set pieces that make up a fantasy environment, which has its parallel in RPGs with miniatures and virtual tabletops.
[h=3]The Magic Kingdom Corridor[/h]Gary Alan Fine outlined the three frames of reference in role-playing in his book, Shared Fantasy: the first frame of real-life, the second frame of game rules, and the third frame of role-playing. Walt Disney World's sets can be discussed in a similar fashion using all three frames. Marisa N. Scalera describes the multiple levels of the Magic Kingdom's staging in "You're On Stage at Disney World: An Analysis of Main Street, USA in the Magic Kingdom":
Staging is also an important part of tabletop game play. Jon Peterson explains in Playing at the World how the dungeon setting lent itself to mapping on graph paper:
And yet despite the mention of miniature figures on the cover of the original Dungeons & Dragons boxed set, miniatures were never really necessary -- and they wouldn't have fit on graph paper maps in any case:
Disney's architects and imagineers thought of everything when building the park, from scale to color scheme to a hidden game visitors can play within the park. A discussion of the amusement park's structure and appearance provides a framework for game masters staging their own tabletop games.
[h=3]The First Frame: A Magic Path[/h]The Magic Kingdom's design has a practical application in the first frame of real life. The park, inspired by the Pike amusement park in Long Beach, CA, features Main Street as a long entrance that can absorb massive amounts of visitors during peak hours. Practically, it shuttles visitors throughout the park, with Cinderella's castle as the centerpiece. The journey into the Magic Kingdom begins with Main Street, USA, which is carefully staged to pull visitors through the park and back out again, as outlined by Scalera:
The entirety of Main Street has a complementary color scheme. Scalera explains that this is intentional:
The challenge of color consistency with tabletop props is one that haunts any game master investing in scenery. Dwarven Forge's recent foray into much more affordable "dwarvenite" pieces and is accompanying paint set have created a surge in compatible pieces, all capable of being painted with a similar color scheme. This color scheme reduces (but does not eliminate) the obvious differences between the different pieces of terrain so that they blend together nicely.
In addition to color, the structures of the Magic Kingdom blend together in another fashion that's not immediately obvious to visitors. Scalera reveals that a careful look at Cinderella's castle reveals an interesting trick of architecture known as forced perspective. The castle, like all the buildings in the Magic Kingdom, are not consistently to scale, becoming smaller at the top:
In tabletop role-playing this perspective plays out in reverse. With hand-drawn maps and virtual tabletops, everything is to a very precise scale, usually from a top-down perspective. With miniatures players look down on the terrain, which means details at ground level next to a miniature are harder to make out. As a result, walls are often lower so that players can see all details of what's happening in an adventure. Detailed scale models of a setting can actually block the players' view of the adventure:
Scale is often fluid in miniature games as well, depending on the resources of the game master running the game:
Similarly, a virtual tabletop (VTT) representation of a map from above can lose some detail -- combats in a forest are considerably less interesting as a result. In short, a playable setup using miniatures or a VTT for a role-playing game session has to take the players into account.
[h=3]The Second Frame: Hidden Mickeys[/h]In addition to the aforementioned themes of the various lands throughout the Magic Kingdom, Main Street USA has its own theme, according to Scalera:
D&D terrain and architecture likewise varies tremendously in scope, from ancient Roman- and Greek-inspired ruins to Medieval and Victorian town archetypes. The result tends to be a hodgepodge that can blend uneasily together when placed side-by-side.
The Magic Kingdom also has a version of "I Spy" that entices visitors to search for "hidden Mickeys":
Similarly, D&D has always encouraged keeping some parts of an adventure visually hidden from players. This hidden world provides another layer to the exploration mode of play that's integral to D&D. Peterson explains:
In addition to the possibility of getting lost, traps derive much of their shock by surprising player and character alike. The challenge with portraying a trap is that it's difficult to represent in three-dimensions. The issue is that the traps are a hidden part of the terrain that must be concealed from both player and character lest it influence their decisions (i.e., avoiding a pit trap). Hiding a trap under a floor requires either switching the floor out or having a physical mechanism to conceal the trap. The game master's ability to control each player's perspective is a key advantage for virtual tabletops; traps can be visually added and removed without too much fiddling.
[h=3]The Third Frame: Strolling Down Story Street[/h]Walt Disney World's is a critical part of a visitor's adventure in the theme park, as Scalera explains:
Similarly, as much as miniatures, terrain, and maps help tell a story, the narrative style of role-playing allows game masters to give that story its details. Peterson explains why this matters in a fantasy role-playing game:
Moreover, portraying the world verbally, in a dialog, capitalizes on the flexibility of language to represent fantastic creatures or abilities, things difficult or even impossible to represent in a physical model: the description of a fire-breathing dragon in a story can be more evocative, and more credible, than a visual or sculptural depiction.
The theater of the mind style of play has recently come back into vogue, as the latest edition of Dungeons & Dragons attempted to accommodate game masters who don't want to use maps and miniatures:
One side-effect of theater of the mind gaming is that it shifts the reality of the story from something players can passively observe by looking at a map or miniatures to entirely within the control of the game master. Players accustomed to having no filter between what they and their characters observe may find this style of play jarring at first:
Just as Disney World shapes the imagination of its visitors with a carefully constructed set, game masters can influence their players' perception of a campaign -- but it requires application of the right tools at the right time.
[h=3]Yes Virginia, There is a D&D Amusement Park[/h]It's worth mentioning that there's actually a Dungeons & Dragons-themed park in Carbondale, IL. Unlike Disney World, it has just one theme: Dungeons & Dragons. Jeremy "Boo" Rochman's father bought the 3.5 acres across the street from the family home to memorialize the death of his 19-year-old son in a car accident. Jeremy was a D&D enthusiast and his influence is felt throughout the park -- some of the set pieces in the park are modeled after his hand-painted D&D miniatures:
The creation of the park was a community effort. Jeremy's father, Barrett Rochman, employed art students from his nearby alma mater, Southern Illinois University. Many artisans donated, or discounted heavily, various artworks and sculptures. The park's target audience is primarily children:
But what D&D-themed amusement park is appropriate for adults? Enter True Dungeon:
Game masters must strike a balance between what their players see and what their characters perceive, which by necessity are not necessarily always the same thing. From physically walking through a park to describing it without ever leaving a table, a fantasy experience by necessity involves using one's imagination. Different filters, be they virtual, physical, or gradually revealed through storytelling, ease the players into the role-playing experience. A GM's judicious use of tabletop or virtual props -- like the efforts of Walt Disney World's planners -- can tell a story without saying a word.
For the rest of the articles in this series please see:
[h=3]The Magic Kingdom Corridor[/h]Gary Alan Fine outlined the three frames of reference in role-playing in his book, Shared Fantasy: the first frame of real-life, the second frame of game rules, and the third frame of role-playing. Walt Disney World's sets can be discussed in a similar fashion using all three frames. Marisa N. Scalera describes the multiple levels of the Magic Kingdom's staging in "You're On Stage at Disney World: An Analysis of Main Street, USA in the Magic Kingdom":
An exploration of the physical characteristics of Main Street, USA finds that each piece of Main Street’s built environment is carefully crafted to achieve a specific effect upon the visitor’s experience. They are programmed to influence her mood, to guide her through the park, to engage or divert her attention, and, most importantly, to set the stage for the show. Each piece of the built environment is designed in conjunction with and to complement the whole.
Staging is also an important part of tabletop game play. Jon Peterson explains in Playing at the World how the dungeon setting lent itself to mapping on graph paper:
Dungeons & Dragons requires the establishment of a scenario to serve as the specific setting of a campaign or game instance, exactly like its forebears in wargaming. The encouraged scenario is proverbially an underground dungeon, not exactly an environment that lends itself to realization on a sand table. The creation of a dungeon map with paper and pencil is therefore stipulated as essential for playing the game.
And yet despite the mention of miniature figures on the cover of the original Dungeons & Dragons boxed set, miniatures were never really necessary -- and they wouldn't have fit on graph paper maps in any case:
Even if graph paper maps had been sized for miniatures, players still could not mark their location on the referee’s dungeon map because that document is not exposed on the table for communal inspection. The referee’s authoritative dungeon map remains a secret. Rather than revealing a visual depiction of the world, the referee instead provides a verbal description of the immediate environs, in response to which the players propose where and how they attempt to move.
Disney's architects and imagineers thought of everything when building the park, from scale to color scheme to a hidden game visitors can play within the park. A discussion of the amusement park's structure and appearance provides a framework for game masters staging their own tabletop games.
[h=3]The First Frame: A Magic Path[/h]The Magic Kingdom's design has a practical application in the first frame of real life. The park, inspired by the Pike amusement park in Long Beach, CA, features Main Street as a long entrance that can absorb massive amounts of visitors during peak hours. Practically, it shuttles visitors throughout the park, with Cinderella's castle as the centerpiece. The journey into the Magic Kingdom begins with Main Street, USA, which is carefully staged to pull visitors through the park and back out again, as outlined by Scalera:
Main Street, USA has a marked beginning, the Train Station, and a marked end, the Cinderella Castle. The Train Station and the castle act as anchors, pulling Main Street taut and straight between them, grounding her and themselves in the process. At her most elemental scale, Main Street, USA’s primary function is to connect, physically and visually, the train station to the castle (the entrance of the park to its heart)
The entirety of Main Street has a complementary color scheme. Scalera explains that this is intentional:
The variations in color are achieved in two ways: a building’s primary color is used as an accent color in the adjacent buildings, and cream and white are used as accent colors throughout Main Street. As the designers pull the primary color of one building into the accent colors of adjacent buildings, they visually knit those buildings together.
The challenge of color consistency with tabletop props is one that haunts any game master investing in scenery. Dwarven Forge's recent foray into much more affordable "dwarvenite" pieces and is accompanying paint set have created a surge in compatible pieces, all capable of being painted with a similar color scheme. This color scheme reduces (but does not eliminate) the obvious differences between the different pieces of terrain so that they blend together nicely.
In addition to color, the structures of the Magic Kingdom blend together in another fashion that's not immediately obvious to visitors. Scalera reveals that a careful look at Cinderella's castle reveals an interesting trick of architecture known as forced perspective. The castle, like all the buildings in the Magic Kingdom, are not consistently to scale, becoming smaller at the top:
An adult who revisits her childhood home often finds it and its contents to be smaller than she remembers. Main Street, USA, our nation’s collective childhood home, exaggerates this effect. The street and buildings are smaller than the full-scale prototypes we find in the world outside, for they are built from memories of the past. A visitor may subconsciously feel that they are built of her own memories, for their reduced scale is that of a newly re-encountered place remembered from her childhood.
In tabletop role-playing this perspective plays out in reverse. With hand-drawn maps and virtual tabletops, everything is to a very precise scale, usually from a top-down perspective. With miniatures players look down on the terrain, which means details at ground level next to a miniature are harder to make out. As a result, walls are often lower so that players can see all details of what's happening in an adventure. Detailed scale models of a setting can actually block the players' view of the adventure:
I really love terrain but some of it seems to get in the way. Especially walls and doors. I carved up some stone walls from foam and sculpted some doors from poly clay. They are great to look at out on the table but as far as actually gaming (AD&D) it's hard to see where the minis are behind the walls and doors. I stopped using walls and just draw them on an erasable battle grid. The doors I leave up until they are unlocked or opened then I remove them from the grid and just draw which way they swing open.
Scale is often fluid in miniature games as well, depending on the resources of the game master running the game:
...it's theoretically possible to use ANY product line for minis as long as it's the only product line you're using, because they'll all be to scale with each other. If you're doing D&D, though, then presumably you're operating in the traditional "1 inch equals 5 feet" scale, which mathematically works out to 1:60 scale, but in practice means that (as long as you're only talking about Medium-sized creatures) you're actually just looking for things which don't significantly occupy more horizontal space than a square inch.
Similarly, a virtual tabletop (VTT) representation of a map from above can lose some detail -- combats in a forest are considerably less interesting as a result. In short, a playable setup using miniatures or a VTT for a role-playing game session has to take the players into account.
[h=3]The Second Frame: Hidden Mickeys[/h]In addition to the aforementioned themes of the various lands throughout the Magic Kingdom, Main Street USA has its own theme, according to Scalera:
Main Street, USA is a stage set that represents a small Midwestern town during the years 1890 – 1910. An impetus for the choice of this specific range of years within the Victorian time period is the excitement of transition...The architecture is an adaptation of the time period’s Victorian architecture and is therefore themed...The architecture that sets the Main Street, USA stage, certainly, is themed architecture, but so is the Victorian architecture from which it borrows, which is based on Medieval prototypes.
D&D terrain and architecture likewise varies tremendously in scope, from ancient Roman- and Greek-inspired ruins to Medieval and Victorian town archetypes. The result tends to be a hodgepodge that can blend uneasily together when placed side-by-side.
The Magic Kingdom also has a version of "I Spy" that entices visitors to search for "hidden Mickeys":
A ‘hidden Mickey’ is an image of Mickey Mouse (most popularly the familiar tri- circle silhouette of his head and ears, but not limited to this form) concealed in the details of a Disney building, attraction, street, sidewalk, piece of site furniture, planting, etc...As a visitor’s eyes pick these visual surprises out from their surroundings, she experiences a sense of discovery...She is participating with her environment and uncovering a secret that lies hidden there. The ‘hidden Mickeys’ owe their popularity to camouflage with their surroundings and to the visitor’s ability to ‘discover’ them.
Similarly, D&D has always encouraged keeping some parts of an adventure visually hidden from players. This hidden world provides another layer to the exploration mode of play that's integral to D&D. Peterson explains:
Regardless of whether or not players dabble in cartography, the secrecy of the dungeon map is a fundamental design innovation of Dungeons & Dragons which fosters one of its three distinct modes of play: a mode of exploration. In this phase of a game session, the party attempts to navigate an unfamiliar environment like a dungeon, uncertain what might lie around the next corner. In order to preserve the suspense of the mode of exploration, the layout of the game world and the position of monsters or treasures must remain a secret from the players.
In addition to the possibility of getting lost, traps derive much of their shock by surprising player and character alike. The challenge with portraying a trap is that it's difficult to represent in three-dimensions. The issue is that the traps are a hidden part of the terrain that must be concealed from both player and character lest it influence their decisions (i.e., avoiding a pit trap). Hiding a trap under a floor requires either switching the floor out or having a physical mechanism to conceal the trap. The game master's ability to control each player's perspective is a key advantage for virtual tabletops; traps can be visually added and removed without too much fiddling.
[h=3]The Third Frame: Strolling Down Story Street[/h]Walt Disney World's is a critical part of a visitor's adventure in the theme park, as Scalera explains:
Main Street, USA unfolds, just as a story does, in a straight line which runs through an introduction, rising action, dénouement, and a conclusion. Each of the architectural forms along the way plays a role in the story. The plan view provides an outline of the plot.
Similarly, as much as miniatures, terrain, and maps help tell a story, the narrative style of role-playing allows game masters to give that story its details. Peterson explains why this matters in a fantasy role-playing game:
While the necessity for secret information precludes reliance on visible game boards, maps or sand tables that would reveal to players the very environment which the mode of exploration uncovers, there must be some means for a referee to depict and update the state of the world, and for players to communicate their intentions. Dungeons & Dragons discloses the world verbally, in a dialog between the referee and the players, where the referee has tremendous latitude in how much or little to reveal in response to the actions and inquiries of players.
Moreover, portraying the world verbally, in a dialog, capitalizes on the flexibility of language to represent fantastic creatures or abilities, things difficult or even impossible to represent in a physical model: the description of a fire-breathing dragon in a story can be more evocative, and more credible, than a visual or sculptural depiction.
The theater of the mind style of play has recently come back into vogue, as the latest edition of Dungeons & Dragons attempted to accommodate game masters who don't want to use maps and miniatures:
Now along comes Fifth Edition, and Theatre of the Mind is back. Not only that, but it's the default play-style, with the grid-based tactical mini-game relegated to an optional module due for release later in the life-cycle of the game. Basic D&D still has distances measured in feet, and it still has the forced movement rules that 4E introduced, but the battle-mat has been rolled up and put on the shelf. 5E is very much a game you can play solely in your head, a design which presents the alluring prospect of using the Basic rules for simple, speed-bump encounters, and the optional tactical combat module only when the stakes are higher -- for the big bad, say.
One side-effect of theater of the mind gaming is that it shifts the reality of the story from something players can passively observe by looking at a map or miniatures to entirely within the control of the game master. Players accustomed to having no filter between what they and their characters observe may find this style of play jarring at first:
In the run-up to Gen Con, in the group where judges discussed the upcoming event, many of the judges touted how their masterly use of the theater of the mind eliminated their need for battle maps. When performed by a skilled dungeon master, theater of the mind apparently allows a DM to speed play and work without the burden of tokens and battle maps. Players can exercise their imagination and enjoy a game unencumbered by counting squares. Perhaps...After the convention, in reviewing the players’ feedback forms, judge coordinator Dave Christ surmised that some judges who favored theater of the mind may have suffered lower feedback scores because they ran games for players who dislike the technique.
Just as Disney World shapes the imagination of its visitors with a carefully constructed set, game masters can influence their players' perception of a campaign -- but it requires application of the right tools at the right time.
[h=3]Yes Virginia, There is a D&D Amusement Park[/h]It's worth mentioning that there's actually a Dungeons & Dragons-themed park in Carbondale, IL. Unlike Disney World, it has just one theme: Dungeons & Dragons. Jeremy "Boo" Rochman's father bought the 3.5 acres across the street from the family home to memorialize the death of his 19-year-old son in a car accident. Jeremy was a D&D enthusiast and his influence is felt throughout the park -- some of the set pieces in the park are modeled after his hand-painted D&D miniatures:
Jeremy Rochman Memorial Park -- its official name -- opened to the public in 2005. Its centerpiece is a wood and stone castle that is actually an elaborate jungle gym of tunnels, stairs, and bridges. Hidden doors and passageways invite the small and flexible; most adults are content to walk the battlements. Pennants flutter, gargoyles and knights guard the ramparts. An ogre with a spiked club stands atop the portcullis, while Jeremy's extensive sword collection is bolted to the lofty inner ceiling of one of the towers. The grounds are a showcase of trees, flowers, and hand-made sculptures of gremlins, gnomes, and other fantasy creatures. A giant, sleepy dragon is a favorite photo-op spot. Three wizards are frozen in a spell battle. A burial mound bears the slab effigy of a fallen knight. Pegasus and a unicorn stand amid native plantings; goblins leer from the trees while human archers take aim; a three-headed dragon is perched on a picnic gazebo, while a single-headed beast sits atop a fountain of wizard heads spitting water. In the center of the park stands an tasteful metal trellis sheltering a dedication plaque and portrait of Jeremy Rochman, as well as a donation box for the park's upkeep (It is maintained by volunteers).
The creation of the park was a community effort. Jeremy's father, Barrett Rochman, employed art students from his nearby alma mater, Southern Illinois University. Many artisans donated, or discounted heavily, various artworks and sculptures. The park's target audience is primarily children:
If you visit, remember: it was designed for kids, not adult LARPers, so showing up with your home-made armor and a foam rubber sword is definitely uncool. And although children can scramble up the burial mound and over the head of the big dragon, posted rules explicitly forbid scaling the walls of the castle.
But what D&D-themed amusement park is appropriate for adults? Enter True Dungeon:
True Dungeon provides an interactive environment, complete with multiple solutions to many problems. There are a small number of NPCs as the plot requires. Players move through various rooms in the game world. Each room contains a challenge in either the form of a puzzle, a fight, or both...Closer to live action role-playing, players are expected to physically explore their surroundings, not simply describing interactions with the gamemaster. Many interactions do require gamemaster interaction, with some details of the environment described to players by the gamemaster assigned to each room.
Game masters must strike a balance between what their players see and what their characters perceive, which by necessity are not necessarily always the same thing. From physically walking through a park to describing it without ever leaving a table, a fantasy experience by necessity involves using one's imagination. Different filters, be they virtual, physical, or gradually revealed through storytelling, ease the players into the role-playing experience. A GM's judicious use of tabletop or virtual props -- like the efforts of Walt Disney World's planners -- can tell a story without saying a word.
For the rest of the articles in this series please see:
- D&D as Amusement Park Part I: Theme
- D&D as Amusement Park Part II: Acting Out
- D&D as Amusement Park Part III: Ready, SET, Go!
