I'd say out of the two, your monthly campaign comes closer to how I run things for my bi-weekly game, with differences of course.
Sounds good. While I prefer my Living World sandbox campaigns, if the situation calls for it, I adopt different techniques to better suit the circumstances. And a monthly campaign is one of those circumstances.
For example, because of safety and logistical needs, adventures for boffer LARPs like NERO are often linear, frankly, even railroaded. I wanted to run good LARP events and good LARP adventures, so I learned how to set them up in a way that most players wanted to ride the rails to the conclusion. That wasn’t easy.
Learning to do this well helped me in tabletop roleplaying, especially in situations where the characters are under orders from an authority, such as members of a city guard. In those situations, I have to be more proactive as I roleplay the NPCs giving orders. I need to come up with missions that the characters will undertake on behalf of those NPCs.
That’s where my LARP experience helps. It taught me how to select missions that would interest players, while still being consistent with what the NPC would actually ask. And that dovetails nicely with the logic of a Living World, because a good leader would naturally consider the skills and strengths of their subordinates.
To be clear, this is not the only method I use to determine what NPCs order PCs to do. It’s a mix of the above, random rolls, and plausible choices.
And to address the elephant in the room: yes, it’s still a Living World sandbox. The players, as their characters, are free to reject orders. That has consequences, of course (e.g., being considered deserters), but those consequences unfold logically from the setting.
The Nomar Campaign I mentioned earlier upthread is a good example. The PCs started out as mercenaries under orders from the Baron of Abberset and ended up building an inn on their own initiative. Their departure wasn’t great, they left on impulse and didn’t even give notice in person, but they paid a generous quit-fee and moved on to another frontier in Nomar. In the end, it didn’t matter much due to how events unfolded.
Although it is true I have not read enough of the exchanges (likely less than what I should have), but I think highlighting internal consistency & plausibility etc is not what should be the centre of your (you and his) discussion.
I think that is where things get caught in the cross-hairs.
And the reason for this is that then it seems to be a contest of who has the most plausible or consistent campaign which it should not be.
I never viewed it as a debate. From my point of view, there was never anything to argue over. Creative goals are not a zero-sum game, you can prioritize one goal and still incorporate others, such as consistency and plausibility.
My contention was, and remains, that placing a priority on plausibility and consistency is not a statement about what other playstyles do or don’t do with those principles.
Related to that, I can maintain that focus while still incorporating what my players find interesting, using techniques that are different from those used in other systems and styles. Mostly through the thing I do outside of the session rather during play.
And for my part, I compounded some of the confusion by trying to figure out how to communicate all this clearly. It took a while before I realized that not every participant in the thread was engaging in good faith like you are.
Ok, how is the bolded for emphasis accomplished in your campaign?
Excellent question. What I’ve found works best to make the setting feel like something the players have truly visited includes the following:
1) First-person roleplaying as the driver of the campaign
In my campaigns, first-person roleplay is the main way play moves forward. As illustrated in my session with Brendan, Adam, and Elliot, everything from pre-game to the second night’s combat with the ruffians was driven by the players speaking and acting in character. Occasionally, they used second-person description, and I described the situation or scene as needed.
In a LARP, this would play out the same way, just without the need for narrated description. Since I’m using pen, paper, and dice, I substitute with verbal narration and maps. The players do the same by using verbal narration, moving their tokens, and pointing at things on the map and asking questions about additional details.
Whether online or in person, my description tends to be terse, I’m usually showing locations and NPC movements, not narrating everything. As much as possible, I treat my tabletop sessions like virtual LARP adventures, minus the physical safety and logistics constraints.
Another way to put it: I use voice, pen, paper, and dice to simulate a virtual reality or holodeck that the players interact with as their characters.
2) Characters are the focus, both PCs and NPCs
Most of the action centers around player characters interacting with NPCs and each other. My prep focuses on what I need to portray NPCs consistently and responsively. Setting detail becomes relevant through interaction with NPCs.
Descriptions matter for setting context, but the campaign unfolds through choices and reactions between characters. Creatures are treated the same as NPCs in this regard.
3) Tracking change
As the campaign progresses, player choices impact the setting, locations, and especially NPCs in their social circles. These changes are tracked and incorporated whenever they return to a location or NPC.
I’ve done this since my second Wilderlands campaign. Over time, the cumulative effect became obvious, players could sense which parts of the setting had been “trashed” by earlier groups, particularly the City State of the Invincible Overlord. One reflective player told me it felt more lived-in because it was obvious many hands had shaped it.
4) Plausible outcomes
A big problem in sandbox play in general is decision paralysis, especially when players feel they lack enough information to make informed choices. This is why sandbox campaigns that start with a blank hex and no leads often fail.
But information is only part of the solution. The world must behave consistently enough that players trust they can weigh options and anticipate outcomes. This means a commitment that consequences will be plausible in hindsight.
Once players feel that, they become proactive and confident. They take risks as their characters.
This also affects system use. I stick to rules that let me adjudicate what characters do. GURPS served that role for two decades. My Majestic Fantasy RPG is written with that in mind, it's focused on action resolution and expressing the setting in mechanical terms.
By “what characters can do,” I mean: swing a sword, haggle, convince an NPC, pick a lock, forge a document, these are all things the system needs to resolve.
As opposed to more abstract moves like “broker a trade deal” as a single roll. With my approach, the player must go through the steps in character. If the player isn’t sure, but the character would know, I coach them through it, not tell them. Coaching means explaining choices and consequences, not making the choices for them.
And I make it clear that questioning or challenging rulings is fine. Especially when it comes to modifiers. If a player brings up a good point, I adjust. But I also make the final call, because the players don’t have all the information I have.
5) A bag of stuff
I do a lot of worldbuilding, mostly for fun, but also to build what I need. In addition to locations and NPCs, I keep a “bag of stuff”, semi-prepared content that I can adapt on the fly.
If I need a peasant hut or a small cave, I grab one from my folder and flesh it out to match the current situation. Because these are semi-prepped in advance, they stay consistent.
The
Hârn Pottage series is a great example of what I use, though most of my content is far less detailed:
Harn Pottage
6) Trust through leadership
Finally, a crucial element is building trust among the players that behind the screen, I am acting as a fair and consistent referee. I’ve detailed this in other posts, but the core of it is being transparent, open to questions, responsive to player input, and applying basic leadership principles. That includes listening, being consistent in rulings, and demonstrating that I care about their experience and engagement. Without that foundation of trust, the rest of the Living World approach doesn't land as well.
7) The world in motion
The setting has a life of its own. If the players leave a location and come back, things have changed. NPCs live their lives even when not onscreen.
Each of these techniques overlaps with what you’ll find in other systems. But taken together, I’ve found they create the feeling that the players have visited a real place, as their characters.
I'm not sure if I'm being clear enough in this regard.
I hope this comprehensive outline answers your question. Also, as comprehensive as my answer is, it focuses only on what I do as the referee to create that feeling. I’m happy to answer follow-up questions, but ultimately, it would take more work, and probably a full book, to cover all the different aspects involved. So while the above covers a lot, it’s likely incomplete when it comes to any other questions you might have.