March 12th, 2023
Here is one of the early encounters:
Mugal has been nagging at you for weeks about the collapsed wall on his round-house. He generously acknowledges that it's not a problem during the summer months, but warns that, as the weather cools, his house will become unliveable. The carpenters have been occupied with other projects for months, but they just finished up some repairs to the kitchen and so you've told them to fix Mugal's house.
Today you're headed out to one of the farms to talk with a shepherd who claims that wolves have been stalking his sheep; he wants you to mount a hunt, but before you commit to it, you want to check out the situation first. On your way out of Camelot, though, you come across the carpenters working on Mugal's house. They've got a bundle of long, thin willow switches and they're weaving them between the new posts that they've driven into the ground along the line of the new wall.
"I've always wanted to see how this is done" you declare as you dismount. "Show me how you do it.”
"There's not much to show" says Glendower, the master carpenter. "We just weave the switches back and forth between the posts. We start at the bottom and work our way up.”
"Where do you get the switches? Do you have to use a special wood?”
"Nothing special: just plain old willow. There's a big old willow tree about half a mile from here, along the stream to the south. It meets all our needs. Once we get all the wattle woven in place, we'll daub mud all over both sides.”
"Where do you get the mud? Is it some kind of special mud?”
"Naw, we can use just about any mud, but clay makes the best daub because it lasts longest. There's a good place for clay about two miles away, but hauling a few hundred pounds of clay from that far away takes a lot of time; that's the biggest part of the job. We mix it with water right here at the job. Here, look.”
He guides you to a fellow who's on his knees, mixing water into a pot full of thick clay. It's quite a struggle at first; the thick clay doesn't stir easily. He puts his back into the work, but his stirring-stick suddenly slips loose and spatters both you and Glendower with a loose mixture of clay and water.
The worker hadn't realized that you were right beside him; the look of horror on his face when he sees you is priceless. "Well, you wanted to see how we make wattle and mud!" Glendower laughs.
This encounter has three options:
1. I laugh along with Glendower.
2. Guenevere will chew me out for getting my clean tunic dirty. I manage a weak smile, mount my horse, and depart.
3. “Nathrak! Nathrak!” I curse. “Now I’ll have to go back and change into a clean tunic.” I stomp off.
My analytical software, which grows more complex by the day, informs me that the first option was chosen 60 times by the players, the second option was chosen 11 times, and the third option was chosen 8 times. This tells me that I have done a lousy job designing the options. A perfect design would distribute the choices equally among the options. I blew it.
How to fix it? This encounter is meant to provide Arthur with a choice between being nice and being assertive. His overall performance is based on the combination of his niceness and his assertiveness (and some other things). The key point here is that being nice all the time is NOT the way to be a good king. Sometimes a king must assert himself, reminding everybody that he is, after all, the king. This encounter is intended to put the player on the horns of that dilemma. It fails to accomplish this.
I believe that the general solution requires me to carefully rephrase the options to make clearer the dilemma. Option #1 must put better emphasis on the loss of regal stature, like so:
I laugh along with Glendower; he slaps me on the shoulder.
The second option is all wrong: I express weakness with respect to Guenevere and with my weak smile. It must be completely rewritten. How about this:
“Don’t worry” I reassure the terrified worker. "I’ll have it cleaned right away.”
This wording addresses the issue of the king’s assertiveness, recognizing the accidental assault on his dignity. It’s not as nice as the first option.
The third option should lean entirely towards the issue of regal dignity and completely reject any attempt at niceness. Therefore, it should not address either Glendower or the worker, but instead should address only the problem of the mud. Here’s my attempt at that:
“Anahl, I can’t go around like this. I’ll have to have this tunic cleaned immediately.”
I think these changes fix the problem.