Think about the last time you lost a game. What was the process of thought that led to your loss? Now, replicate that moment in the dramatic structure of the story, except the story isn’t about games.
Writing Excuses 10.6: The Worldbuilding Revolves Around Me (“The Magical 1%”) Link
Well, thinking about the last time I lost a game was easy. I remember it very clearly since it was very recently and I played one of my most beloved games, The Resistance – Avalon.
It’s a social deduction game where the good guys need to figure out who among the group are spies (or bad guys), among the good guys there’s a Merlin that knows about all the bad guys but if the evil people manages to guess who Merlin is at the end of the game the bad guys win no matter what. So Merlin needs to be vague, the good guys need to analyze and the bad guys need to lie with a straight face. I’ve played this game for over several years now, I’ve played it with the same people and introduced it to new friends, it’s simple to explain but oh so hard to master.
If you don’t want to spoil the main part of the coming story, jump to the three dashes!
So what happened in the game?
Well, we were a group of veterans and a single newbie, who we will call Bob. I was among the good guys and had my guesses on who was evil, I was especially suspicious about Bob since he had blurted out that he was Merlin on several occasions. Sure I know it’s a strategy the good guys can do, everyone chimes in on being Merlin to confuse the bad guys. But something about his way of exclaiming being Merlin was…strange. He was looking for reactions from the same group of people, one of the people in the group whom I suspected was the real Merlin. A good guy pretending to be Merlin would look for the reaction of all the people playing, not solely home in on a certain group. This made me believe that Bob was a spy and I rallied the majority of the players to stand behind me and mark Bob as a spy.
Bob howled and accused me of being stupid (no worries, we all act out like drama queens in this game, we just laugh it off afterwards). He once again exclaimed that he was Merlin, I accused him on the premise I previously presented and he explained that he merely was looking at how the spies reacted. I ignored his claim and bulldozed through the game with my guesses, convinced that I was right.
Well, guess who was Merlin? Yupp, it was Bob.
So let’s put this tension and drama into a story!
➖➖➖
There was a cough and everybody froze. The group looked at each other, finding out that the culprit was the doctor who said “Sorry, too much dust in here,” as the group relaxed their bodies but their minds continuing to furiously find out who chucked the dynamite on the exit, resulting in a cave in.
It was supposed to be an easy exploration down the new found cavern, rumoured to hide treasures of forgotten ages. The group consisted of a doctor, Mister Waldrof the sponsor, three guards and a native guide we hired from the nearest town. There was of course me, the person who found this unvisited place but enough with the presentation. Someone in the group had closed our exit for unknown reasons. Sure, I could probably come up with a few but the more alarming question was who.
As we continued downwards the cavern I tried to list who was the most suspicious.
There was of course Mister Waldrof, if there were any sign of danger from the doctor or guide, the exploration would have been called off until we’ve gotten further backup and resources. That could have taken more time and cost than Waldrof could have managed, so he chucked a dynamite to force us to continue with the exploration no matter the consequence. The journey would have been quick if we discovered nothing, and it would be joyous if we did discover treasures.
The more I thought about the idea the more plausible it seemed.
A tap on my shoulder made me look back into the old eyes of Mr Waldrof. His bushy brows were lowered, as was his voice when he whispered to me: “Careful of the guards. I think they did it.”
The guards? Why would they do that? That didn’t make any sense unless it was a way for Mr Waldrof to throw the suspicion off himself. Yeah…
I yanked his tie closer to me and growled into his ears loud and clear: “I believe you are the culprit Mr Waldrof.”
The group came to a halt by my accusation. Mr Waldrof’s eyes bulged in panic and surprise.
“Are you insane?” he screamed. “Why would I sabotage my own explorations?”
“Simple,” I responded and laid out my theories to everyone to hear. There were some agreements and nods towards my thought process. Only the accused shook his head violently denying the claims.
“You’re a moron,” the sponsor spat out. “Think of the repercussions if I was found out. The risk would have been too big compared to the gains!”
“Not unless you have some sources that strongly implies that there are treasures down
here,” I continued smoothly.
Mr Waldrof was furious and exasperated. He shook his head in bewilderment, clutching his own head and rubbing his temples with great vigour. All these motions together with words of “Stop”, “Listen,” “No that’s wrong,” “You’re a moron,” and more.
It was here that Waldrof suddenly pointed a hard finger on the guards and screamed: “They are the culprit! I saw one of them throw the dynamite, but didn’t dare to say it out loud since they are the armed ones. You got to believe me!”
Now it was my turn to shake my head.
“Come on, now you’re the one losing it Mr Waldrof,” I said. “If they really were the culprits, why didn’t they just kill me and you since we’re disposables. For this exploration only needs a guide and a doctor. The rest is only for smaller details. Plus without you and me, there would be less risk of revolt since it would be three guards versus two instead of four.”
Nothing were said for a moment, only stares and baffled faces.
“You know, that's not a bad idea,” one of the guards rumbled. “What you guys think of this?”
“Sounds good to me,” agreed the second guard.
“Alright,” continued the third guard. “Let’s shoot these two idiots dead.”
Ops.
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