Actual Play Report: 'Storm Cellar' (Part 1)
I was able to play the “Storm Cellar” LARP at Go Play Northwest this year, and it was one of the most amazing experiences I have ever had. To all the people I played with: thank you for your portrayal of your characters, and to the authors: thank you for creating such an amazing world.
I have a lot to say about the game, and by necessity, some of it will contain spoilers. Part One is as spoiler-free as I could make it and still tell the story I wanted to tell, but if I was thinking about playing it myself, I wouldn’t want to even know that much--just believe me when I tell you it was excellent, have fun doing it yourself, and then come back if you want to hear my take on it. Part Two has huge spoilers, and is very personal. Part Three has no spoilers at all, and is only tangentially related to Parts One And Two, but will make a bit more sense in that context.
Without further ado, I give you:
Part One: Wherein Our Hero Recounts The Events Of And Leading Up To A Saturday Night In July.
To back up a bit for those who might not be familiar with Go Play Northwest, LARPs, or storm cellars: Go Play Northwest is an annual roleplaying convention that is completely focused on getting together and playing various roleplaying games. This year, there were eight different time slots over three days in roughly 3-hour windows each, with breaks for lunch and dinner. There were games to sign up for beforehand, and games you could choose to join at the beginning of each slot. LARP stands for “Live Action Role-Playing”, which is basically long-form improv where the players themselves are the intended audience. A given LARP might have lots of rules or almost none, or lots of pre-defined characters to play or let you make up your own, or might have a tight pre-defined structure or let the players do whatever they want--it’s a very generic term that can encompass a wide variety of experiences.
A storm cellar is an outdoor bunker designed to protect people from the weather, particularly tornadoes.
In this particular LARP (“Storm Cellar”, by Kathleen De Smet and Eva Schiffer), I signed up in advance basically knowing nothing about either the LARP itself or even LARPing in general: while I have acted in many plays and musicals, performed in an improv troupe for ten years, and played and GMed numerous roleplaying games, this would be my very first actual LARP. The person running the slot asked for people’s contact information so that he could send them a character survey: I did so, and in a couple days, I got a form back, asking questions about the kind of person I would feel most comfortable playing. A couple days later, I got another email with the backstory of Emily Rayne, the person I would be playing for three hours that Saturday night.
In general, I had claimed on the character survey that I would be most comfortable playing someone a lot like me, and Emily was a lot like me. Or, perhaps, a lot like *how I perceive myself*, which is a more idealized version of the actual me. But either way, I poured myself into that character, and she fit like an old sweater. Her circumstances and relationships were almost completely different than mine (with one huge overlap--more in the more spoiler-y part two), but if I was granted a stronger work ethic, transported to Kansas in 1939, and given Emily’s circumstances, I could see the two of us making largely congruent choices, on the whole.
The LARP itself was amazing, for so many reasons. There were no mechanics, just our backgrounds, goals, and the premise that we had all been around Emily’s farm when a tornado hit, and we all took shelter in her storm cellar. As players, we gathered in a room in the basement, set out a bunch of LED candles, introduced ourselves to each other, turned off the lights, and started. I kicked things off by standing up, distressed, asking if everyone was OK and that nobody had seen anyone else outside that might need to join us. From there, people gathered in small groups and just… started talking.
Emily was at the center of two major plot threads, one centering on her son, and the other centering on money. The son thread kicked in right away, and led to some very, very powerful and emotional scenes right at the top. From there, it mostly moved to financial struggles, with the son thread continuing to weave its way through the story. There was breathing room here and there, and occasionally I was pulled into other people’s stories and dramas, but by and large, it was three hours of me talking to people, trying to keep my life intact.
And what made the whole scenario the most interesting for me was that if you just tallied up my worldly assets, and compared them to the forces arrayed against me, you’d pretty much assume that I was destined to be screwed over: I had zero political influence or power, a struggling farm that I owed a significant mortgage on, and meager savings. Against this, there were people in the room with ready access to tons of cash, who could casually promise influence and plum positions to people who had the ability to wreck my life.
But I had other assets, that weren’t quite as obvious. I had healthy relationships, a moral center, and the ability to believe the best about people while still retaining a clear head. And if this was a novel, there would be no doubt as to the outcome--obviously, it was going to work out for me, as my assets were things we tell people to value, and the stories we write about. But here, we just had people who were all supposed to make decisions that were best for their own character, not decisions that were best for the story! I honestly had no idea what would happen.
And as a result, I just went with my gut, sinking even more of myself into dear Emily, making her live up to my own ideals, and behave the way I would hope I would behave in her situation. I trusted people, but let actions speak louder than promises. I loved my son, tried to help him through an emotionally difficult time, and invested myself in the people around me; both friends and rivals. I offered forgiveness to those that wronged me, and was sad, but not angry, when it was rejected. At the crux of the night, when it was clear that the rich and powerful were conspiring to try to ruin me for reasons of their own, I was saddened and a little frustrated, but content: I had people that loved me; I had lived by my principles; and if more powerful people than I were going to screw with me, well, that was their choice, not mine.
And then, the instant the opposition made their move, an ally, already worried for me and by my side, stepped in to help. Then someone else, not even aware of my new difficulties, stepped in to help with what they could. And then at the climax of the evening, yet another person, nominally on the side of the opposition, crossed the aisle, and asked me how much I needed. And at that point, I didn’t need anything! I was overflowing in abundance. It was literally overwhelming.
I’m not sure if it’s really possible to convey how the whole evening made me feel. If I had read Emily’s story as a novel, it would have been nice, if perhaps a bit predictable; a bit reminiscent of ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’. If I was cast as Emily in a play, I would have understood her a bit better--as an actor, it’s possible to really throw yourself into your character, and see the world through their eyes a little more clearly. But in the end, it’s still a script, and you know the ending--if my character is overwhelmed, I work at portraying their overwhelmedness accurately and believably to the audience; I’m not literally overwhelmed myself. If my life was actually like Emily’s, I would obviously feel that quite acutely! But while I have amazing friends and family who I absolutely know would come to my aid in the event of a catastrophe, in my own life, catastrophes have been pretty thin on the ground (fortunately!) so while I’ve definitely had times where people have come to my aid, it’s never happened in quite so dramatic a fashion.
But here, walking around as Emily, with no script, only knowing what Emily knew, filling in details from my own life at every turn, everything was so stark and so compressed and so unpredictable that it felt like I might as well have been Emily herself: taking uncertain steps of faith to just treat people kindly in the face of adversity and see what happened.
And what happened was that people embraced me and told me they loved and supported me. It was more than just emotionally gratifying. It was a validation of Emily’s character; of her purpose and her choices. Of me. Well; idealized me, at any rate. I do try to live my own life as I lived Emily’s life that night. At times, I’ve succeeded. I hope people forgive me for the times I’ve failed.
(Continue in part two and part three.)
I have a lot to say about the game, and by necessity, some of it will contain spoilers. Part One is as spoiler-free as I could make it and still tell the story I wanted to tell, but if I was thinking about playing it myself, I wouldn’t want to even know that much--just believe me when I tell you it was excellent, have fun doing it yourself, and then come back if you want to hear my take on it. Part Two has huge spoilers, and is very personal. Part Three has no spoilers at all, and is only tangentially related to Parts One And Two, but will make a bit more sense in that context.
Without further ado, I give you:
Part One: Wherein Our Hero Recounts The Events Of And Leading Up To A Saturday Night In July.
To back up a bit for those who might not be familiar with Go Play Northwest, LARPs, or storm cellars: Go Play Northwest is an annual roleplaying convention that is completely focused on getting together and playing various roleplaying games. This year, there were eight different time slots over three days in roughly 3-hour windows each, with breaks for lunch and dinner. There were games to sign up for beforehand, and games you could choose to join at the beginning of each slot. LARP stands for “Live Action Role-Playing”, which is basically long-form improv where the players themselves are the intended audience. A given LARP might have lots of rules or almost none, or lots of pre-defined characters to play or let you make up your own, or might have a tight pre-defined structure or let the players do whatever they want--it’s a very generic term that can encompass a wide variety of experiences.
A storm cellar is an outdoor bunker designed to protect people from the weather, particularly tornadoes.
In this particular LARP (“Storm Cellar”, by Kathleen De Smet and Eva Schiffer), I signed up in advance basically knowing nothing about either the LARP itself or even LARPing in general: while I have acted in many plays and musicals, performed in an improv troupe for ten years, and played and GMed numerous roleplaying games, this would be my very first actual LARP. The person running the slot asked for people’s contact information so that he could send them a character survey: I did so, and in a couple days, I got a form back, asking questions about the kind of person I would feel most comfortable playing. A couple days later, I got another email with the backstory of Emily Rayne, the person I would be playing for three hours that Saturday night.
In general, I had claimed on the character survey that I would be most comfortable playing someone a lot like me, and Emily was a lot like me. Or, perhaps, a lot like *how I perceive myself*, which is a more idealized version of the actual me. But either way, I poured myself into that character, and she fit like an old sweater. Her circumstances and relationships were almost completely different than mine (with one huge overlap--more in the more spoiler-y part two), but if I was granted a stronger work ethic, transported to Kansas in 1939, and given Emily’s circumstances, I could see the two of us making largely congruent choices, on the whole.
The LARP itself was amazing, for so many reasons. There were no mechanics, just our backgrounds, goals, and the premise that we had all been around Emily’s farm when a tornado hit, and we all took shelter in her storm cellar. As players, we gathered in a room in the basement, set out a bunch of LED candles, introduced ourselves to each other, turned off the lights, and started. I kicked things off by standing up, distressed, asking if everyone was OK and that nobody had seen anyone else outside that might need to join us. From there, people gathered in small groups and just… started talking.
Emily was at the center of two major plot threads, one centering on her son, and the other centering on money. The son thread kicked in right away, and led to some very, very powerful and emotional scenes right at the top. From there, it mostly moved to financial struggles, with the son thread continuing to weave its way through the story. There was breathing room here and there, and occasionally I was pulled into other people’s stories and dramas, but by and large, it was three hours of me talking to people, trying to keep my life intact.
And what made the whole scenario the most interesting for me was that if you just tallied up my worldly assets, and compared them to the forces arrayed against me, you’d pretty much assume that I was destined to be screwed over: I had zero political influence or power, a struggling farm that I owed a significant mortgage on, and meager savings. Against this, there were people in the room with ready access to tons of cash, who could casually promise influence and plum positions to people who had the ability to wreck my life.
But I had other assets, that weren’t quite as obvious. I had healthy relationships, a moral center, and the ability to believe the best about people while still retaining a clear head. And if this was a novel, there would be no doubt as to the outcome--obviously, it was going to work out for me, as my assets were things we tell people to value, and the stories we write about. But here, we just had people who were all supposed to make decisions that were best for their own character, not decisions that were best for the story! I honestly had no idea what would happen.
And as a result, I just went with my gut, sinking even more of myself into dear Emily, making her live up to my own ideals, and behave the way I would hope I would behave in her situation. I trusted people, but let actions speak louder than promises. I loved my son, tried to help him through an emotionally difficult time, and invested myself in the people around me; both friends and rivals. I offered forgiveness to those that wronged me, and was sad, but not angry, when it was rejected. At the crux of the night, when it was clear that the rich and powerful were conspiring to try to ruin me for reasons of their own, I was saddened and a little frustrated, but content: I had people that loved me; I had lived by my principles; and if more powerful people than I were going to screw with me, well, that was their choice, not mine.
And then, the instant the opposition made their move, an ally, already worried for me and by my side, stepped in to help. Then someone else, not even aware of my new difficulties, stepped in to help with what they could. And then at the climax of the evening, yet another person, nominally on the side of the opposition, crossed the aisle, and asked me how much I needed. And at that point, I didn’t need anything! I was overflowing in abundance. It was literally overwhelming.
I’m not sure if it’s really possible to convey how the whole evening made me feel. If I had read Emily’s story as a novel, it would have been nice, if perhaps a bit predictable; a bit reminiscent of ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’. If I was cast as Emily in a play, I would have understood her a bit better--as an actor, it’s possible to really throw yourself into your character, and see the world through their eyes a little more clearly. But in the end, it’s still a script, and you know the ending--if my character is overwhelmed, I work at portraying their overwhelmedness accurately and believably to the audience; I’m not literally overwhelmed myself. If my life was actually like Emily’s, I would obviously feel that quite acutely! But while I have amazing friends and family who I absolutely know would come to my aid in the event of a catastrophe, in my own life, catastrophes have been pretty thin on the ground (fortunately!) so while I’ve definitely had times where people have come to my aid, it’s never happened in quite so dramatic a fashion.
But here, walking around as Emily, with no script, only knowing what Emily knew, filling in details from my own life at every turn, everything was so stark and so compressed and so unpredictable that it felt like I might as well have been Emily herself: taking uncertain steps of faith to just treat people kindly in the face of adversity and see what happened.
And what happened was that people embraced me and told me they loved and supported me. It was more than just emotionally gratifying. It was a validation of Emily’s character; of her purpose and her choices. Of me. Well; idealized me, at any rate. I do try to live my own life as I lived Emily’s life that night. At times, I’ve succeeded. I hope people forgive me for the times I’ve failed.
(Continue in part two and part three.)