For example, when the dungeon master describes an open field or an empty hallway, there is often no need for careful analysis — moving forward is the obvious next step. Similarly, a tavern in a village is often seen as a straightforward location. Players immediately understand its function without needing to ask further questions. They assume it’s a place to rest, gather information or perhaps meet a quest-giver. There's no need for deep investigation or interpretation — it’s simply part of the setting that serves a familiar role. If a creature takes a swing at us during combat, there's no need to overthink it; once it's our turn, we know what to do.
But there are situations that seem a little less clear — for instance, the presence of a suspicious-looking statue in a dungeon, or the dead end of an engineered hallway. It's reasonable to wonder why anyone would take the time to carefully dig a hallway to nowhere, then mortar stone tiles along the floor and walls, as though this dead end needed to be improved by a little aesthetic. This bridge across this gorge is awfully convenient. This door has no handle on this side. Hm... that chest is strangely wedged open by a book. Curious that there is this one tree here in a barren wasteland.
The default is to assume the DM hasn't told us all we need to know... and so, we prod the DM for more information, asking, "Do we see anything else?" Now, a proper DM should in fact tell us everything our eyes can see and all our ears can hear, but there has been "advice" that reaches back to the 1970s to the effect that "a DM can't be trusted." Which has merit because, unfortunately, some DM's can't be trusted. And so, in such situations, it is necessary to spend a little time during a game session reviewing the following answers to every question we care to ask: "no, that's everything;" "no, there's nothing moving in the room;" "yes, that's all you can see;" "no, if you could hear or smell anything special, I'd have said so." I say it is necessary because usually, we get the answer, "Oh, right, sorry, yes, there is a chest at the foot of the statue." Or something to that effect. Because DMs can't be trusted.
Still, these follow-up questions do tend to break the game's flow. Ideally, a good player shouldn't have to ask at every turn, "Is there anything else?" — but this relies on the best communication between the players and the DM, which we'll sadly have to leave until later.
There are many situations where the amount of interpretation needed is considerable, and cannot be accomplished by the players standing in one place asking questions. Some character must actually do something, whether that is probing ahead, trying the door to see if it will open, tapping the statue with an object to make sure that it's not alive and such like. In such cases, players tend to adopt an attitude of rugged individualism. It occurs to them to ask the DM if they can approach the statue and hit it with a stick, but it does not occur to most players to turn to the rest of the party and say, "I was thinking of taking this stick and hitting the statue with it. Does anyone have an issue with that?"
The default is often to act first and think of the consequences later. This approach often leads to hasty, ill-considered decision-making, for which everyone in the party pays the price. Yet this is a situation where a little communication between the party members could go a long way. By consulting the other players, someone might come up with something better to hit the statue with. Someone might have a good argument for why not to hit the statue. The party could reorder themselves to protect the weakest members, before the statue reveals itself to be alive. There are spells that could be used, possibly out loud statements that could be made, that if the statue were alive, it might have reason to answer. We don't know what others in the party might be thinking, when we seize a stick and start wailing away.
The DM's role here is to enable. Not to say, "Have you discussed this with your comrades?" Most of the time, the other players are confused, not certain themselves what to do, and tend to think when hearing that one of their number is going to take up a stick, say to themselves, "Huh. Well, I haven't anything better." The consequences in this moment aren't considered, only the need to resolve the situation. But when someone in a party takes the time to engage the party (and this cannot be the DM), it connects. It wakes the others up to the understanding that, "Hey, we're all in this, aren't we?" It's easy to give one's silent consent, because we won't be held accountable. But when we're asked to give our out-loud consent... the game is changed.
What's required is for the players to shift from the mentality of "What am I going to do next?" to "What are we going to do next?" In terms of positive game play, this is a dramatic rethinking of the game's process. It's usually assumed that this is a bad idea, because gaining a consensus from five other players, or however many there are, can be a nightmare when the other players are unwilling to agree. But here, I haven't argued that we need a consensus. What's needed is the presupposition that there might be a better action... not that the whole group is entitled to rule as a disjointed body that no action can occur, because we can't agree on what that is.
Part of that positivity in game play is to embrace the idea that doing something is NOT A BAD THING. It isn't that hitting the statue, or killing the old man that's spewing all this needless exposition, or even burning down the bar is necessarily bad ... just that, maybe, warn one's fellow players first. Then, we can say while the confused argument is going on about what to do, "I said I'm going to hit this statue with this stick. Is anyone going to stop me? No? All right then. Get yourselves ready, because I'm doing this."
Thus, everyone is informed, consent is not necessary, and the game can move on without endlessly deliberating over minor things.
There are many situations where the amount of interpretation needed is considerable, and cannot be accomplished by the players standing in one place asking questions. Some character must actually do something, whether that is probing ahead, trying the door to see if it will open, tapping the statue with an object to make sure that it's not alive and such like. In such cases, players tend to adopt an attitude of rugged individualism. It occurs to them to ask the DM if they can approach the statue and hit it with a stick, but it does not occur to most players to turn to the rest of the party and say, "I was thinking of taking this stick and hitting the statue with it. Does anyone have an issue with that?"
The default is often to act first and think of the consequences later. This approach often leads to hasty, ill-considered decision-making, for which everyone in the party pays the price. Yet this is a situation where a little communication between the party members could go a long way. By consulting the other players, someone might come up with something better to hit the statue with. Someone might have a good argument for why not to hit the statue. The party could reorder themselves to protect the weakest members, before the statue reveals itself to be alive. There are spells that could be used, possibly out loud statements that could be made, that if the statue were alive, it might have reason to answer. We don't know what others in the party might be thinking, when we seize a stick and start wailing away.
The DM's role here is to enable. Not to say, "Have you discussed this with your comrades?" Most of the time, the other players are confused, not certain themselves what to do, and tend to think when hearing that one of their number is going to take up a stick, say to themselves, "Huh. Well, I haven't anything better." The consequences in this moment aren't considered, only the need to resolve the situation. But when someone in a party takes the time to engage the party (and this cannot be the DM), it connects. It wakes the others up to the understanding that, "Hey, we're all in this, aren't we?" It's easy to give one's silent consent, because we won't be held accountable. But when we're asked to give our out-loud consent... the game is changed.
What's required is for the players to shift from the mentality of "What am I going to do next?" to "What are we going to do next?" In terms of positive game play, this is a dramatic rethinking of the game's process. It's usually assumed that this is a bad idea, because gaining a consensus from five other players, or however many there are, can be a nightmare when the other players are unwilling to agree. But here, I haven't argued that we need a consensus. What's needed is the presupposition that there might be a better action... not that the whole group is entitled to rule as a disjointed body that no action can occur, because we can't agree on what that is.
Part of that positivity in game play is to embrace the idea that doing something is NOT A BAD THING. It isn't that hitting the statue, or killing the old man that's spewing all this needless exposition, or even burning down the bar is necessarily bad ... just that, maybe, warn one's fellow players first. Then, we can say while the confused argument is going on about what to do, "I said I'm going to hit this statue with this stick. Is anyone going to stop me? No? All right then. Get yourselves ready, because I'm doing this."
Thus, everyone is informed, consent is not necessary, and the game can move on without endlessly deliberating over minor things.
A "cooperative spirit" is not necessarily the same thing as everyone in the party operating in lock-step. A group cannot operate usefully only when total coherence is achieved; groups consist of people with different ideas acting as individuals... all that's being suggested here is that information is better than acting without warning. The DM is duty bound to accept our declarations of actions as FACTS that have no occurred; he or she isn't empowered to stop the player from doing what's wanted with the character. Unfortunately, however, when individual players act like this, the other players don't have the opportunity even to prepare themselves, much less say, "Um, I have a better idea."
Communication keeps the diversity between players acting on their own functional, and thus effective at managing obstacles in the game. A lot of different people, trying different things, yet constantly communicating their intentions, makes a powerful and unpredictable force for a DM, who is just one person. It becomes easier to catch the DM unawares or off-balance, while we're communicating our ideas as a party... and thus spawning other ideas in our party mates that might not have occurred to them. Acting as an individual is a fine thing. Five players working together as a party of individuals is something terrific to see.
It's fairly obvious to point out that this communication doesn't work if the other players won't behave flexibly and listen. Even with the best intentions for communication, it won’t have its full effect if other players aren’t willing to hear their mates outline their actions. A positive strategy in handling those moments of interpretation, before taking an action, is a willingness to accommodate new information that's said ... and recognising that if we don't have an idea, we shouldn't take a position that someone else's idea is a bad thing, on principle. We must be open minded; we must accept that the game is about risks, and that it's okay if we hitch our wagon to a loony plan. Sometimes, the best course of action is to go along with the loony plan if it’s the only plan on the table. If that's all we have, hey... why the hell not? These characters really only exist on paper, right? By being flexible, listening to each other, and accepting that sometimes the craziest plan is worth a shot, we can fully embrace the spirit of the game.
It's fairly obvious to point out that this communication doesn't work if the other players won't behave flexibly and listen. Even with the best intentions for communication, it won’t have its full effect if other players aren’t willing to hear their mates outline their actions. A positive strategy in handling those moments of interpretation, before taking an action, is a willingness to accommodate new information that's said ... and recognising that if we don't have an idea, we shouldn't take a position that someone else's idea is a bad thing, on principle. We must be open minded; we must accept that the game is about risks, and that it's okay if we hitch our wagon to a loony plan. Sometimes, the best course of action is to go along with the loony plan if it’s the only plan on the table. If that's all we have, hey... why the hell not? These characters really only exist on paper, right? By being flexible, listening to each other, and accepting that sometimes the craziest plan is worth a shot, we can fully embrace the spirit of the game.
Then, there are those moments when no one has a plan; where the players sit around the table asking, "Does anyone have any ideas?" and the silence hangs in the air as the players stare at each other, hoping for inspiration. These are moments of collective uncertainty, and they can easily stall the game if no one steps up. But they’re also opportunities to embrace the unpredictability of the game and lean into the fact that D&D thrives on creativity—even when it feels like there are no clear answers.
In these moments, it's important to recognize that the game doesn’t demand a perfect plan. The beauty of D&D is that sometimes you just have to do something, even if no one is entirely sure what the outcome will be. This is where the willingness to experiment and take risks becomes essential. No one in the party needs to have a master strategy all the time. Instead, it can be about making small moves, trying different approaches and seeing what unfolds. It's often in these moments of uncertainty that some of the most memorable and unexpected moments in the game arise.
No one says that thinking is easy... but if we've allowed ourselves to be roped into this silly game, then it's on us to get ourselves both into trouble and out of it. What we must do, to promote the best possible game we can play as participants, is to stop relying upon the DM for all the answers, and recognise that we have to undertake each problem ourselves. The DM will, as per the game's structure, yield more and more information — and treasure and whatnot as well — when we unite as a party and go get it.
In these moments, it's important to recognize that the game doesn’t demand a perfect plan. The beauty of D&D is that sometimes you just have to do something, even if no one is entirely sure what the outcome will be. This is where the willingness to experiment and take risks becomes essential. No one in the party needs to have a master strategy all the time. Instead, it can be about making small moves, trying different approaches and seeing what unfolds. It's often in these moments of uncertainty that some of the most memorable and unexpected moments in the game arise.
No one says that thinking is easy... but if we've allowed ourselves to be roped into this silly game, then it's on us to get ourselves both into trouble and out of it. What we must do, to promote the best possible game we can play as participants, is to stop relying upon the DM for all the answers, and recognise that we have to undertake each problem ourselves. The DM will, as per the game's structure, yield more and more information — and treasure and whatnot as well — when we unite as a party and go get it.
The party's unity (or at least explicit consent to individual actions) is enforced in TSR's Basic D&D by the designation of a Caller. I remember my group trying to follow that rule but quickly forgetting it. Granted, I never played with 6-9 players, when It would probably have been necessary.
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