Page 135 of End Game

I should not find that argument funny.

Unfortunately, I do.

The campaign proceeds about as expected from there, which is to say it proceeds nothing like I planned.

That is, technically, what I plan for.

Encounters have contingencies. NPCs have motivations instead of scripts. The world has rules, but the players are allowed to make choices inside them. Otherwise there would be very little point in playing.

They get through the gate without bribery or seduction. Micah discovers a route through the market that bypasses an encounter I spent almost an hour designing. Cami adopts an NPC I created solely to give them directions. Griffin threatens someone he was supposed to negotiate with.

Dex steals a hat. Not a magical hat. Not an important hat. Just a hat.

“Why?” I ask him.

He puts a hand against his chest. “My character liked it.”

Cami catches my eye. She’s trying not to smile.

I narrow my eyes at her.

That makes it worse.

And somewhere between the stolen hat and Griffin rolling a natural one while attempting to intimidate a man he has already successfully intimidated, I realize something.

Everything is different.

Which is strange, because almost nothing feels different.

Somewhere during the session, everyone rearranges themselves without discussion. Cami’s foot ends up in Griffin’s lap, her shoulder against Micah’s. Dex’s empty drink disappears and returns full because Micah noticed it before Dex did. Griffin moves the chips into Dex’s reach without interrupting their argument.

Nobody rolled for any of that.

Every so often, Cami looks at me.

And every time I catch her, she smiles.

We spent an entire family meeting defining what we are to each other, and apparently the result is that nobody behaves much differently.

That should probably feel anticlimactic, but I find it reassuring.

We just defined words for things we were already doing.

Maybe that’s all I wanted from it.

A structure doesn’t have to dictate what happens inside it. It just needs to be strong enough to hold it.

By the time I close my notebook a few hours later, Dex has acquired three objects that have no narrative value, Cami has promised an elderly apothecary she will come back to visit, Griffin accidentally started a minor conflict with the city guard, and Micah is the only reason any of them are still alive.

A fairly standard campaign night.

“That’s where we’ll stop for tonight,” I say.

Dex leans back with a groan. “You can’t stop there.”

“I just did.”

“We were literally being chased.”