This puzzles me in two ways.
(1) Maybe they rescued me but thought I was dangerous? Maybe they're on holiday and their groundskeeper kidnapped me? Etc etc? I think there are multiple possibilities here - just as, when the PC in my BW game found the black arrows in the ruins of his brother's former workroom, his first instinct was to try and determine who had made them, his hope being that it would be someone other than his brother. His hope was dashed. (I can't recall with certainty, but I'm guessing he failed an Aura-Reading check.)
Could just be that I'm
extremely jaded about any kind of "horror" gaming, so if a failed roll happens in a game like CoC, I expect it to mean The Absolute Worst Possible Result. Horror just...isn't my thing generally, and is just so damn soul-crushingly depressing. Either way, from the words used, I got an impression that the guilt of the mansion-owner was inherent in the waking-up, which struck me as being a form of Force.
(2) How is this Force? It's not any sort of manipulation of backstory to predetermine a result. There's no fudging of dice. There's no formal or informal pressure placed on permissible action declarations. Isn't this exactly how reveals unfold in DW/AW play - ie hard moves reveal unwelcome truths, including about the identities of villains.
Does "Force" not mean "GM
making things happen a specific way"? Because that's what I'd understood it to mean. Of course, I'm quite fuzzy on the specific terminology of a lot of things, so perhaps I've just got a mistaken understanding of "Force."
So wouldn't it be open - for instance - that the cultists have a spy/agent among the manufacturers, or in one or more of the caravans, or at the caravanserais?
Oh, sure. The very idea that they'd moved any weapons they had was, itself, an Unwelcome Truth being revealed, and I could easily have revealed something else instead. I just went with something that seemed to make sense and implied a looming broader threat (thus, hopefully, inviting the players to follow up on it and thereby lead the adventure in some other future direction). Going with something like "the woman you worked for was secretly one of them!" could also have worked, I just didn't consider it at the time.
This goes right back to
@Ovinomancer's post upthread - it's all just fiction being authored, and so doesn't matter.
It matters a lot to me and my fellow players. I don't really know how to express it better than that. Both the recently-returned Druid player and the Bard player (the one player who has stuck through the whole way, not a late-joiner nor taken a hiatus) have explicitly said that one of the great joys of playing in this game, besides their genuine feeling of being able to act as they like rather than being on rails, is that the world feels living, vibrant, and self-consistent. Things fit together naturally, explanations click, and several times they have uncovered a fact or made a connection only to realize that the pieces
really were there all along, they just didn't see the pattern before. Some of that has been invented as I go along. Some of it is ground-work I did in advance, which may or may not be discovered. But since my players have explicitly thanked me for it unprompted, I think it matters more than you give it credit for.
Locking in the "who" of causation in advance then feeds into action resolution - because now there are constraints on what further fiction can result, based on that established-but-unrevealed backstory. This is the whole premise of sandbox RPGing; but it sits in a more delicate relationship, I think, with an approach that encourages players to exercise substantial authority or at least influence over backstory (eg via asking questions of them and building on their answers), and that encourages outcomes of actions to have high salience to player-established goals/aspirations for their PCs. To spell these out: too much that is locked in, but unrevealed, can clash with the answers the players give to questions; and stuff that is locked in might turn out to provide the answer/outcome to some declared action, but at that moment of play may be of low salience to the player's established goal/aspiration for their PC.
I do my best to keep whatever might be relevant to PC answers as minimally-planned as possible to maintain consistency without violating player freedom. The only thing I asked at character creation was that no one play evil PCs, and the only thing I've generally held to from there on is that any violation of the deeply-held values of the region (respecting the Bond of Salt, opposing slavery, and opposing necromancy) should happen only as a huge last-resort thing because the
characters would know how serious such violations are. (Bond of Salt cheerfully stolen from
Al Qadim.)
As best as I can tell, the only constraints this places on action resolution is that...well, players can't do the thing I described, where they declare that the murderer
must have been the Countess and thus she always was. I have yet to see any situation where my players' declared answers to questions formed any situation like this, nor where they declared a thing that we all accepted but which caused some kind of fundamental contradiction within the world. Indeed, I have on numerous occasions had an unexpected windfall of players conveniently doing
exactly something symbolic or copacetic, in ways they literally could not possibly have known in advance. (As an example, the Ranger has a raven companion; the Barbarian came from the Raven clan and had a raven tattoo; the druid repeatedly took the form of a desert raven to attack enemies. I had meant for there to be some
subtle raven symbolism that the party could dig into if they wanted. They independently and repeatedly went whole-hog for it, multiple times, some even before we even got started playing, and it has worked out
beautifully. And I can say 100% for sure it was independent, because things like the Barbarian's clan and tattoos or the Ranger's companion happened even before session 0; harder to say with the Druid since that began to take place after the first couple sessions.)
From your posts I can't see how you reconcile your different, backstory-first approach with the standard (as in, book-prescribed) way of adjudicating and framing in DW. That's not a criticism. It's an observation.
I just...do? It's hard to be more specific than that. I support my players with what they want to do. Often, I have a pretty good idea of where things are likely to go, but they still surprise me regularly as well.
That just shows it can be done better or worse. All serial fiction depends on this sort of retconning. Frankly if my RPG campaigns could be half as compelling as the Star Wars trilogy I'd be pretty happy!
That's...honestly very disheartening if true. I've always appreciated it when fiction seems to have had a clear plan for where things are going, and where they "did their homework" so that events that happen in book 3 are clearly traceable to their origins in book 1 when the early foreshadowing happened.
Using a relatively spoiler-free example from
Final Fantasy XIV: At the end of the baseline story for the
A Realm Reborn reboot (usually called "2.0" by fans after its patch designation), you have to complete a dungeon called
The Praetorium, where you fight some important NPCs and there's a crapload of voiced cutscenes, something like 45 minutes in total, it's kinda ridiculous. Before the penultimate fight, one of the Ascians (manipulative evil worshipers of a dark god) gives a long monologue about why he's doing what he's doing, full of stuff that sounds like BBEG blather. But after you complete the original story for the
Shadowbringers expansion (5.0, so quite a ways after the 2.0 story!), you realize that literally every single thing he said is relevant and, in its own twisted way, "correct." It's to the point that you can see how they were slowly planting seeds even that far back that they could reap later, without any retconning or overwriting necessary. We'll be getting the final chapter of the story that started in 2.0 with the expansion that launches early next month, and people are extremely excited to see them finally answer
all the questions we've had thus far--and where we'll go next, as 6.0 will completely conclude the current story arc (almost a decade in the making), with 6.1 being the start of a new arc.
I aspire to such levels of consistency and forethought in my game, and based on my player response, I have done that reasonably well.
I personally find this a very significant misdescription.
What matters is not that black arrows were made <by someone or other>. It's that they were made <by the brother>. Hence, the possession is not <an innocent person is a victim of failed magic or Orcish magic> but rather <a sinister person finally came to their end, of being possessed by a Balrog>. That was a fundamental moment and revelation in play - unfolding over a failed Scavenging check (to use AW language, a soft move announcing the badness of the black arrows being there and hinting at worse> and then (I think) a failed Aura-Reading check (a hard move, driving home the irrevocable fact of who made the black arrows).
I'm not at all trying to imply that this isn't the important thing. It absolutely is the important thing here. I apologize for whatever I said that implied otherwise.
What I'm saying is that,
to me, exactly this kind of reveal is wonderful because (at least as I see it) the thing that the character (and thus player) really cared about was the real motives of the brother, the real inner nature of the people involved and why they did the things they did. Now, things were a lot fuzzier before so I had a slightly mistaken idea of what happened; I thought it was just "oh no, you discovered these black arrows, which proves your brother was collaborating!", when it was actually the character desperately trying to prove that the arrows
weren't made by the brother. That is, of course, a little different and a little harder to square, but...I dunno.
It still feels different and I cannot explain better than I already have why it does. "Oh no, you discover, despite all your efforts to prove otherwise, that your brother was already evil all those years ago and merely getting his comeuppance!" is a-okay to me, and feels like unfolding drama. "Oh no, you discover that the murderer was <Trusted Ally>, who has been using you this whole time!" isn't, and feels like
blatantly rewriting the world
solely and exclusively because someone got a bad (or good, or whatever) roll and
nothing else. The former feels natural, even exciting; the latter feels so
blatantly artificial that I can no longer engage my imagination about it, and have to think about it purely in terms of computer-simulated die rolls and text written into Google Sheets character sheets. It's like the difference between someone giving you a cup of freshly-squeezed concord grape juice, and a cup of grape Kool-Aid. Even if you
like how Kool-Aid tastes, you know instantly that it isn't fresh fruit juice, though I probably couldn't tell you better than "that one tastes natural, the other tastes artificial."
This was an epic moment of play, for me at least. And a regretful one, for the player who found his (as his PC's) conception of his brother dashed, all because he was greedily trying to find a different artefact in the ruined tower that he had written into his backstory. It couldn't have worked as it did if I adhered to your backstory-first norms of content-introduction. That's not a reason for you to change your practices, obviously; but is intended to illustrate why I think the situation-first/backstory-first contrast is of more than abstract theoretical interest.
Well...I guess I'm saying it could have because, again, this situation feels different, and I don't know how to explain
why it feels different other than what I've already said. Maybe there is a real, rational difference between them, but I gave my best shot at describing it and that evidently failed to communicate anything at all to you.