Just How Immersive Can You Get?

There are many works of fiction that D&D draws upon for inspiration, as co-creator Gary Gygax made clear with his Appendix N in the Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Dungeon Master's Guide. Jon Peterson identified a theme that some of the Appendix N fiction has in common, known as a "visitation theme." It serves as a useful template for how D&D is portrayed -- now and in the future. By...

There are many works of fiction that D&D draws upon for inspiration, as co-creator Gary Gygax made clear with his Appendix N in the Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Dungeon Master's Guide. Jon Peterson identified a theme that some of the Appendix N fiction has in common, known as a "visitation theme." It serves as a useful template for how D&D is portrayed -- now and in the future.

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By Connecticut_Yankee4.jpg: Daniel Carter Beard(1850–1941)

The First Level: Playing Yourself

The visitation theme in fiction is summed up by Jon Peterson in Playing at the World:

There is however a trajectory in fantasy literature running through Burroughs, de Camp and Anderson, which also surfaces in the works of Moorcock and Howard, that demonstrates precisely this sort of connection between fantasy and the denizens of the "real" modern world...The formula is a simple one: plausible contemporary persons undertake a journey to an undiscovered, fantastic realm, where after some adventures they return to their place of origin.

The theme is common with child protagonists, who are more open to fantastic worlds through their imagination, traversing gateways to other realms; Alice in Wonderland, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, and The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe being three popular examples. In the hands of an adult -- who brings a developed skill set with them -- things can take quite a different turn. One of the best examples of this idea is Mark Twain's A Connecticut Yankee at King Arthur's Court:

Morgan applies nineteenth-century engineering know-how to the raw materials of the period, and his accomplishments quickly outstrip those of deranged mystics like Merlin, to say nothing of the martial prowess of the knights themselves. Eventually, in the final confrontation between American ingenuity and English hereditary privilege, Morgan handily butchers the flower of British nobility with dynamite, Gatling guns and electric fences.

A more recent example of this idea in film is Ash Williams in Army of Darkness: a modern time traveler who is thrust into a fantasy world, and uses his modern know-how to his advantage.

Role-playing's unique application of real life concepts (codified monsters and magic, rules for spells, characters neatly divided into races and classes) finds a useful parallel in this fiction theme, where D&D transports its players into a fantasy world for a few hours. It is a halfway between fully immersive role-playing and modern sensibilities -- players are not expected to literally think and act like their characters. In fact, co-creator of D&D's Dave Arneson's first Blackmoor campaign featured the characters playing themselves, as per David Hartlage:

Dave Arneson’s Blackmoor game—the campaign that spawned D&D—began with a gaming group playing fictional versions of themselves in a fantasy world. The characters became champions in series of miniature battles featuring armies clashing above ground. Without any further inspiration, the Blackmoor game might have evolved into a role-playing game such as Chivalry & Sorcery, a game I found short on fun. But somehow, Dave invented a new activity that transformed the campaign and ultimately made a lasting addition to popular culture.

Escape rooms adopt this form of "light" role-play in which the player is expected to be herself, but still bring her know-how to a fictional challenge in order to escape.

There are plenty of reasons why this idea might not appeal to players, of course, not the least of which being that a realistic depiction of a player may not be physically capable of handling the challenges of a fictional universe. For game purposes, it can be more fun to adopt a persona that merges the player's mind with a character's body.

The Second Level: Playing a Hero
If Twain's take on proto-role-playing is a bit jarring to modern audiences, Edgar Rice Burrough's Barsoom series (featuring John Carter) and The Compleat Enchanter stories (featuring Harold Shea) by Fletcher Pratt and L. Sprague de Camp provides a template that's more familiar to gamers:

Intriguingly, the stories of John Carter and Harold Shea are prominently mentioned by Gygax in the foreword to Dungeons & Dragons as inspirations for the game--together they constitute two out of the four fictions that he expects Dungeons & Dragons to emulate...There is a certain intrinsic kindship between these stories of twentieth-century persons visiting fantasy worlds and the play of Dungeons & Dragons, where we as players set aside our mundane selves temporarily to assume a fantastic role.

In both series, the protagonists are not merely transported to new realms but transformed. Harold Shea discovers he speaks Old Norse, cannot read English, and the world's core physics prevent him from using his modern sensibilities like lighting a match. Similarly, John Carter has great strength and superhuman agility thanks to Mars' lesser gravity and lower atmospheric pressure. The heroes still have their own minds, but they are in different bodies.

Perhaps the most influential of these types of visitation themes is Poul Anderson's Three Hearts and Three Lions. Holger Carlson, an American-trained Danish engineer, finds himself in a fantasy realm where his newfound armor fits him perfectly, he knows how to use his weapons and ride a horse, and he can speak the local language. Three Hearts and Three Lions gave us D&D's paladin, complete with "laying on hands" and regenerating trolls. Even R.E. Howard's Conan -- another highly influential character on D&D -- was not immune to visitation fiction, in which John O'Brien relives his past life as Conan in "People of the Dark."

This version of visitation fiction is slightly more immersive than the first, and is used to good effect in the Dungeons & Dragons cartoon. Our six young heroes are thrust into competent bodies who have equipment that fits them perfectly and (mostly) know how to use them. This is a parallel for D&D itself, which asks players to invest partially in their fantasy character tropes without fully immersing themselves in it: they didn't have to become a fantasy character, they just play one.

Villains & Vigilantes is one of the first superhero role-playing games to formalize this level of immersion, in which a player was the real-life secret identity to the superhero she played in the game. This mimics cosplay as well, in which players adopt a persona of a hero or villain in appearance only. For full-immersion that blurs the line between player and character, we must dive into the third level.

The Third Level: Becoming the Character

Thinking and acting like your character is not unique to Dungeons & Dragons, but it requires a level of commitment above and beyond the first two levels of immersion.

This form of role-play has become increasingly popular with role-play only servers in massive multi-player online role-playing games (MMORPGs), where most game play is firmly stuck in level two -- players usually talk about real life through their characters without any clear distinction between them. Part of this is certainly due to the medium, where a player is using a computer to connect with his character and thus can only engage with the game at the second level of engagement.

Conversely, Live Action Role-Playing (LARPs) works actively to not use the first level of engagement (like cosplay, an easy mode to slip into since the player is physically part of the game). Many LARPs emphasize level three only. Full immersion at this level can create "bleed" in which the emotions of characters affect players.

Pitching D&D

There's a reason why visitation fiction is popular, and it has its parallels in D&D itself. As Peterson states:

...we need only appreciate that the prevalence of the visitation theme is one of the dominant factors that ensured role-playing games began in a fantasy setting, rather than some other genre. These stories taught reads how to role-play when immersed in a fantasy narrative: how to follow the example of a Connecticut Yankee, of Harold Shea, or Holger Carlson. The immense popularity of Tolkien seeded a global marketplace for fantasy that was cleverly exploited by both Chainmail and Dungeons & Dragons, both of which transcended the popular distaste for warfare by setting their action at a great remove from modern weaponry and casting their battles in a world of moral absolutes, among evil beasts that can be slain without qualms.

This technique, which eased readers into fantasy, also eases gamers into role-playing. Visitation fiction lets you dive right in: While there are certainly peculiarities of any fantasy visit, modern players don't have to worry too much if they know how to swing a sword, or ride a horse, or speak the local language. If the upcoming D&D film is to distinguish itself from other fantasy movies, the visitation theme might make the difference.
 

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Michael Tresca

Michael Tresca


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Jay Verkuilen

Grand Master of Artificial Flowers
Have to agree with whoever said they dislike Portal Fiction. If I got sent through a portal to a D&D world, I don't live very long. No medications, no useful pre-computer skills, overweight. Feh. Yeah, my knowledge of science is like magic: except it's all theoretical. How to actually harvest and process the ingredients for gunpowder? No clue.

Just knowing things are possible can make a big difference, but you have to survive long enough. As to the weight... that'll go away quick in a strenuous lifestyle. :)

All that said, a lot of portal fantasy doesn't leave the people in their standard forms. Or if it does, they are capable of surviving and used to roughing it. John Carter is a former Confederate Army officer who was prospecting after the Civil War. He ends up being way stronger than most Martians because of the gravity differential.

For the most part I'm not crazy about the genre, but a good example of portal fantasy that is very worth reading is Brian Daley's Coramonde novels. Two characters are from late 1960s Earth. One is a scholar who made a world-transit machine. He'd been a Marine in World War II and prepared himself for his trip before setting out. He got some guns and otherwise trained up before setting out to "fantasy land." The other is a soldier during the Vietnam War (possibly loosely based on Brian Daley himself, or if not, clearly informed by his post-Vietnam War experiences). So they have useful skills in their adopted home. The soldier from Vietnam brings in a lot of useful knowledge, but most notably things like military principles---basic sanitation, how to make use of aerial recon and how to fool it with "quaker guns", tactical innovations, unarmed hand to hand combat, etc. However, he has to adapt, which is very hard for him. Daley was also a savvy enough world builder that he posits that there have been other "outlanders" from other places. I lifted that idea for my own campaign world, so I guess I've dabbled in portal fantasy but only for NPCs.

Other portal fantasy examples make use of body shifting. If you want a good example and a great spoof, watch "Den" from Heavy Metal.
 
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Jay Verkuilen

Grand Master of Artificial Flowers
Yes, yes, yes, I know the theory behind getting the components to gunpowder. But how do you harvest those crystals? How do you know the sulfur is pure enough? What are the ratios? "Hey, guys, I can't speak your language but I can tell you just enough about this stuff to blow yourself up with it."
The ratios aren't complicated: 7 saltpeter:2 sulfur:1 charcoal is it, but figuring them out wouldn't be too hard knowing what the ingredients are. Nor are those ingredients that tough to find. Saltpeter accumulates at the bottom of dung piles such as guano islands (essentially islands where sea birds go to take a collective dump) or in old graveyards and sulfur can be found around hot springs. The tricky part is making good burning powder that doesn't just separate, because the charcoal ignores the sulfur, which in turn ignites the saltpeter. There's a lot of geometry to it, actually, so that it burns evenly. But, seriously, black powder could well have been made by the Romans or even earlier had they figured out how to purify saltpeter, it just wasn't.

Yeah, even knowing a several modern languages doesn't help with the older version of them. And I can imagine a village priest being utterly confused by my poor Latin skills.
It doesn't immediately, but you'd pick them up faster than a monolingual.

Guess what I'm saying is that we shouldn't sell ourselves short. What I think would get us is the infection load. Our ancestors' immune systems were ferocious!
 

Guess what I'm saying is that we shouldn't sell ourselves short. What I think would get us is the infection load. Our ancestors' immune systems were ferocious!
Actually, I would assume we would kill off a village or two on arrival. We probably carry strains of stuff on our bodies that the ancient bacteria can't even dream of. (yeah, yeah, bacteria don't dream, you know what I mean.) Genetically, we've already survived most of the viral diseases that exists hundreds of years ago.

On topic, as I said, if you want to play a portal game, have the players create the modern anthropologist/linguist/survivalist who finds himself in the past. And not ask the players to play themselves.
 

Jay Verkuilen

Grand Master of Artificial Flowers
Actually, I would assume we would kill off a village or two on arrival. We probably carry strains of stuff on our bodies that the ancient bacteria can't even dream of. (yeah, yeah, bacteria don't dream, you know what I mean.) Genetically, we've already survived most of the viral diseases that exists hundreds of years ago.
Just because we were ancestrally exposed doesn't mean we have immunity or that we're carrying. Think about all the folks that get adult chickenpox or adult mumps (cuz thanks antivaxxers). Chances are good we'd bring something with but I have a feeling we'd find eating most food and drinking really tough. Just think of how easy it is for people from America or Europe to end up with "Delhi belly" or "Montezuma's revenge".

On topic, as I said, if you want to play a portal game, have the players create the modern anthropologist/linguist/survivalist who finds himself in the past. And not ask the players to play themselves.

Yeah, I'm really skeptical of the whole "play yourself" thing in any circumstance. I wouldn't agree to be in such a game myself. I've tried it a few times but it has a really distressing tendency to turn into arguments and engender things that get taken personally, even with a group of fairly chill people. No bueno. Playing someone else is much, much safer.
 

Nytmare

David Jose
<storytime>

There was an old "portal-esque" rpg I had played in when I was in college. I don't remember how much of it might have been published vs how much of it was the guy running the game(s) making stuff up, but he had had a (kinda silly in retrospect) set of real life tests that he would use to define our/our characters' base physical and mental stats. Every week we'd build a new character based roughly off of us, for a different genre of game, and we'd have a little afternoon one-shot.

During the second one of those one shots we started to recognize recurring names and themes and set pieces, and every week there'd be more things we'd recognize from previous games. The guy running it also encouraged not only the idea of meta-gaming between those adventures, even introducing problems that were solved with either real life knowledge or knowledge from previous games, but he also encouraged the arguments over whether or not we should be doing it.

As the semester finished up, we started up a new one-shot where we just used the basic characters without any tweaks or spells or laser guns. We were us, playing ourselves as patients who were staging an escape from the real world Psychiatric Hospital that was a couple blocks away, and that the guy running the game had spent a little bit of time at during the previous semester. He had also mirrored players leaving the game, or new players joining as people being discharged or as new patients being admitted. We also, realized that lots of the things we "saw in the distance" in-game had been actual Pittsburgh landmarks (I'm assuming) you were able to see from the windows of Western Psych.

I think that at least part of the inspiration for that game might have been taken from a 4 or 5 page rpg called Power Kill, that had been packaged along with another old RPG called Puppet Land. I don't remember much about it, but it was a kind of overlay game that you'd play after "normal" murderhobo RPG sessions. The game master would play the part of a psychiatrist replaying and retelling the events that happened in the game as actual real world crimes that the players (ie patients) had committed during a psychotic break.

</storytime>
 

David Weihe

Villager
> if we accept that alchemy is a thing in D&D then creating gunpowder isn't a huge stretch of the imagination.
> don't forget that people irl discovered gunpowder and found good ways to make it

Assuming that you portal to a world where OUR gunpowder works. OTOH, there is always Jeweler's Rouge (Zelazny's Amber Chronicles reference).

Last week, Ralif Redhammer referenced Pratt & deCamp's Incompleat Enchanter series. In that, science followed the beliefs of the "authors" of each world, so the main character's match wouldn't light and his stainless steel rusted. If I ran a campaign using the actual players, I would pull this on them, so only their habits of mind (including literary knowledge) would be of use. That would keep them from Googling their way out of problems. I might recall the ratios for gunpowder, I do know how to get saltpeter, but if gunpowder doesn't work, I have to take the portal world in its own terms, rather than as a joke to run with, as did The Connecticut Yankee in Twain's story.
 

jasper

Rotten DM
..

Yeah, even knowing a several modern languages doesn't help with the older version of them. And I can imagine a village priest being utterly confused by my poor Latin skills.
Shucks y'all. I grow up with 1970s Southern American English. This here 2018 Net English got me pawn bae! Lol.
 



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