The Gales of November: Exploring History Through Immersive Roleplaying
Editor’s Note: Brian’s post came out of a recent conversation in the NASAGA Discord space. If you’re interested in being part of conversations like this, become a NASAGA member and get access to our Discord server!
“With a load of iron ore, twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty
That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early”
- “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” by Gordon Lightfoot
This year marks the 50th anniversary of the sinking of the SS Edmund Fitzgerald. A Great Lakes ore freighter that sank in a powerful November storm, its tragic story was the focus of folk-rock artist Gordon Lightfoot’s 1976 ballad, “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.” For six-and-a-half minutes, the listener is pulled into the story of the doomed ship, its crew of 29, and their fate at the bottom of Lake Superior. Because of this, the details of an easily forgotten news story from 1975 has been cemented into cultural memory and passed on to multiple generations.
Music has always been a powerful way to transfer historical knowledge and the raw emotion behind it. From ancient bards to the folk-rock legends of the 1970’s, the combination of melody and lyrics helps capture information far better than the simple memorization of facts. This triggering of multiple parts of our brains creates stronger, multi-layered connections that aid in information recall. It is also a pleasurable experience that begs repeated interactions.
As practitioners of applied play, we too understand the power of pulling in multiple parts of the brain to deliver a more impactful learning experience. Similar to evocative songs like “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald,” games transfer not only raw information - Lake Superior has dangerous storms, 29 sailors died - but allow us to tap into parts of ourselves to feel why it matters - each man who died had a story to tell and left behind loved ones.
So how would a game measure up next to Mr. Lightfoot in telling the story of this doomed ship? The answer is in tabletop role-playing games (TTRPGs), a type of storytelling game where players take turns describing how their characters act and resolving the consequences through a system of rules.
From their modern onset with the first publication of Dungeons and Dragons in 1974, role-playing games introduced an unwritten tradition of stepping into one’s character the way a method actor would. So much so that more recently published games include thorough sections on the norms and traditions of role-playing, player safety, and how to best tell a collaborative story with fellow players. Through adaptation of an existing TTRPG system and applying lessons from the immersive arts, a modern storyteller can weave an unforgettable and interactive tale.
The Right System
First, the proper roleplaying system must be selected. While Dungeons and Dragons, without a doubt the most popular TTRPG, has been in the cultural memory longer than our nautical subject matter, it brings with it a complex system of rules that gets in the way of the emotional story we want to tell. This also creates a high barrier to entry for one-time players. Instead, we look to the world of Indie TTRPGs, which embrace inventive mechanics designed to immerse players further in the narrative.
Designed by Epidiah Ravachol and Nathaniel Barmore, Dread is a horror-themed tabletop roleplaying game where dice-rolling is eschewed for a medium that truly summons physical fear: the Jenga Tower. When a character faces the risk of failure, the player must pull a block from the Jenga tower. Succeeding keeps them safe, but also continuously increases the difficulty, leading to the inevitable fall of the tower. When this happens, the character who triggered the fall is out of the game, usually indicating their death. This simple mechanic is all we need to heighten the shared storytelling experience. Every risky action has consequences and one small slip by a player could mean their characters’ demise.
Historical Alignment
Preparing a game of Dread that follows the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald is as simple as an afternoon’s research into the well-documented historical event. Afterall, Gordon Lightfoot compiled information for his ballad from just news articles and his own experiences. Detailed timelines up until the ship loses radio contact provide important milestones. From there the narrator and players’ imaginations may take the wheel.
The normal character creation process detailed in Dread can be swapped out for selecting a crew member whose story speaks to the player. Information on each of the crew members is available and tell stories in their own right. Take Oliver “Buck” Champeau, an engineer on the vessel. A veteran of the Korean War hailing from Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin, he quit school at the age of 13 to raise his siblings after his father died. Those details alone provide enough information for a player to find the connection needed to act out how he would have faced the events of the disaster.
Evoking Emotion
The narrator has plenty of tools in their kit to draw emotion out of their players. Interjecting with questions like “Who was your character thinking of when they left port?” at the beginning of the game primes the player to see their sailor as a real person with real world relationships. Asking similarly personal questions as the player pulls a block connects the player’s feelings to what their character may have been feeling at the moment. They can also prompt conversations between players to exhibit how they would have supported each other as the night became more dire. When the tower finally falls, one question remains: “What was their last thought as the Icy waters took them?”
From here, lessons from the world of immersive experiences add to the multi-dimensional experience. By engaging all senses of the players, we can increase the parts of the brains engaged in the activity.
Sight: Removing overhead and ambient light as the storm picks up, only to be replaced by flashlights brings a sense of doom and makes pulling blocks more difficult.
Sound: Providing an evolving soundtrack of ambient engine sounds, crashing waves, and gale force winds to pull in the auditory cortex. (I also recommend the Punch Brothers’ rendition of “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” as a truly haunting beginning to the game.)
Touch: As the waves pick up and the ship becomes drenched, a vessel of ice water can be prepared into which players can dip their hands or splash on their face before pulling blocks. Again, this not only increases the difficulty of the game, but can trigger specific nervous system responses related to survival in cold weather.
Taste: Drawing from “Counting Sheep”, an immersive Ukrainian Folk Opera that engages audience members as participants in the 2014 Maidan Revolution, a meal before the drama pulls in the sense of taste. We know that the final meal served on the ship was chicken paprikash. This can be cooked and served to the players once play begins and create an environment for character development and relationship building.
Smell: Beyond the smell of Hungarian cuisine, the narrator can also tap into the scents that would have been present during the events of the night. These could be anything from engine oil to the smell of rain and lake water.
Player Safety and Respect for History
It is important to note that as we increase the emotional connection players have to the historical event, and their individual characters, more attention must be paid to player safety. Consent, both before and during the game, must always be honored and players must feel like they can walk away at any time. Player safety tools such as the X-Card (John Stavropoulos), Lines and Veils (Ron Edwards), and frequent check-ins establish strong boundaries and touch points. Best practices from theatre and Live Action Role-Playing research shows that onboarding and offboarding rituals helps keep strong emotional moments contained in the experience and help reduce character bleed.
In addition, the Edmund Fitzgerald was a real ship, and its crew were real people – some who might still be alive today if things had gone differently. This exercise should be performed with a strong sense of respect, with time spent before play to acknowledge this fact and set boundaries on how far players may go in embellishing the narrative.
Brian Stauber is a coach and facilitator who prides himself on crafting creative and thought-provoking experiences tailored to the unique personalities of teams. A trained improv actor and professional Dungeon Master, he loves getting into theoretical discussion about increasing collaboration and immersion for better tabletop experiences. He grew up on the shores of Lake Michigan listening to 1970’s folk-rock with his father and still zones out every time that song begins.
Image Credit: U.S. Army Corps of Engineers Detroit District, CC BY-SA 2.0.
