Last week: SOMETHING Happens on Every Watch
Tie Up Loose Ends
RPGs produce a lot of loose ends. Some of them will never be tied up, and that’s fine. Real life is the same way.
But sometimes a rest watch can provide an easy opportunity grab those loose ends. An example I always remember is from the first season of Critical Role. A party member on watch sees a roc flying by at a great distance, and from context, they infer that it is a roc they previously encountered, and decided to spare. That’s a nice little way of calling back to previous events, without making it a capital-E encounter, or really anything that the party has to “do” anything with.
This can take other forms beyond just seeing something. PCs might have a prophetic dream, or receive a Sending or similar communication from an NPC, or simply stumble upon something static (like a crumpled up newspaper or broadsheet) that alludes to the conclusion of offscreen events.
Restate Fundamental Themes
This will sound weird, but… how often is the fundamental premise of your campaign restated? How often do the central conceits of the fictional world assert themselves in a form that isn’t a distinctive monster, special location, or important NPC?
It can help to have them appear a few times a session. Three is a good number. These don’t have to be important. It actually helps if they aren’t important, because it makes them feel less like hooks that the players are intended to act upon, and more like passive aspects of the world that would be present whether or not the adventurers noticed.
Dungeon dressing. Minor NPC behavior. Weather. And of course, random encounter results.
Say the campaign premise is that magic is returning to the world after a thousand-year absence. Yes, you will have upstart wizards upending society, and magical monsters overrunning the countryside. But there should also be lots of quiet, small, non-adventure-adjacent instances of resurgent magic affecting the game world. Are ordinary plants growing differently along the path? Has the weather or climate been altered in some small but noticeable way? How has life changed for a normal person in a small town? Big themes can’t be limited only to big representation. They need small representation too.
Do a One-on-One Scene
“Stonks is on watch. Melvin wakes up to go to the bathroom, or maybe just can’t sleep. They have a brief conversation around the fire. What do they talk about?”
One-on-one scenes give characters a chance to bounce off each other. This could be two characters with tangled relationship or a beef; or it could be two characters who have little to do with each other, but find they share some perspective
Yes, this is very much a story game idea. And I would use it pretty lightly in most games that aren't explicitly about interpersonal roleplay. But this can really flesh out a lot of detail that isn't going to come up in the ordinary course of exploration and adventure.
Cut Away to a Counterpoint Scene
This is another one I don’t do very often because it is very “filmic,” and that is not really my style of running games. But I think excluding it entirely would be a mistake, as it can be very powerful when used effectively. Players are steeped in books, TV shows, and other media that do this all the time. Cutting away from the main characters serves multiple purposes, including:
- Conveying the passage of in-game time without using a lot of real-life time
- Giving the PCs a break from being “on screen”
- Providing some urgency and highlighting “fronts” and other antagonist action
A friendly NPC or a character controlled by a player not present for that session can be a good viewpoint perspective to “explain” why the players can “see” the cutaway, even if their characters cannot; but it’s not strictly necessary to explain at all.
This is definitely to taste. Going into “director” mode can be too much for games that intentionally eschew those techniques. I don’t do this often, as it can put the players in audience mode, and I don’t like to run many scenes that are, effectively, me talking to myself.
But cutting away can be very compelling, and it can telegraph danger or urgency or change without dropping a tense situation or a long-ass combat encounter into every campfire rest.