We are six sessions into what has become a rather dedicated, eventful run for Legendary Lives.
The leading illustration for this post is perfect for my character's sister's plight in session 4, but it's also way out of context for its original meaning, so follow the link stated in the image to see its proper content.
The embedded link includes the playlist for sessions 4 and 5; I'm working on session 6 now and will add it soon.
I don't know if anyone's following this game of ours, but if you do, I think you'll notice a little bit of "spray" in terms of the resulting plot. We are three hard-feeling, hard-living, no-holds-barred female fantasy heroes, but also rather adrift and shaping our desires in a dangerous mix of setting-based risks.
Ross is very careful not to front-load plot, but rather, instead, to fill the joint with every possible hassle from our characters' backgrounds and the available setting material, and to see what happens.It makes perfect sense for us to carom around a little while, finding trouble and causing it, and only now just beginning to do things because we want to, and in relation to a whole lot of other characters' priorities and pressures on us.
That's what I mean by the post title. Our characters as characters make sense - whereas how their situation and their assertive actions become a memorable, perhaps culturally significant saga ("legend") is still in progress. One thing I'd really like to address in reflections and discussion is what we each perceive as rising action at this point - not to consolidate, agree, or decree anything, but merely as comparison among the participants.
Usually, after each session, we chat a bit about the game or any rules details that have piqued anyone's interest. I haven't included those because they tend to be rambly or because my brain is melting by that point in the edits, but I hope to bring some of them forward in the comments, especially since we've logged so much play.
Some of that content includes:
The striking difference between the rules for miracles (available to all characters) and the rules for magic, in that the former are pretty generous and the latter are surprisingly stingy. I get the idea that the miracles were perceived as "helping" the GM lay down the next steps of plot and the magic was perceived as "interfering" with doing it. Since Robbie's character Grrl is pretty much treating her Divination magic and her "balance of the universe" spiritualist, non-deistic religion as the same thing, the difference in the rules for each comes out a little strangely in play.
The remarkable "bounce" effect afforded by the outcomes table, which in many cases - and if the textual rules are honored - create a completely unpredictable, yet causal, non-random-feeling plot. It's important to assess this, too, in terms of the stated character goals, which are a bit mysterious in the rules because character creation is all about arriving at these highly-individualized, player-written, passionate goals, and yet nothing about how-to-play or examples for play or scenarios for play taps into them.
The contrast between the clearly highly-playtested, absolutely pristine rules - nothing extra, nothing missing - and the game's evident obscurity, i.e., dearth of perceived presence and use in the general hobby. It evidently saw a lot of convention one-shot play, but its design includes a lot of content and rules which could only have been baked in long-term play. It makes me want to know a lot more about the home-game, i.e., the designers and their friends, about who the characters were and what happened to them, and how the rules arose from there.