“I attack him while he’s distracted.”

That’s not an appropriate response to an antagonist Monologing, but it happened once.

There came a time when a new player, unfamiliar with the genre, joined the Adventurer’s Club campaign. At one point, in an adventure, the villain began to Monologue – and that was this player’s response.

This is a bad idea for several reasons, and that’s a great place to start.

Time Out Post Logo

This is a composite of three images. The base image is monkey-236861.jpg by Fuzz, extended by me (turning Speak-No-Evil into a villain in a post about Oratory and Monologues, how could I resist?); the microphone is from microphone-2710067.png by Alexa; and the speech bubbles were extracted from doodle-7326367.png by pencil parker (and modified by me), all from Pixabay.

This is the fifth of my time-out posts in between the Trade In Fantasy series.

I made the time-out logo from two images in combination: The relaxing man photo is by Frauke Riether and the clock face (which was used as inspiration for the text rendering) Image was provided by OpenClipart-Vectors, both sourced from Pixabay.

Seven Reasons Not To Interrupt

First, monologues often reveal more about the villain’s planning and preparation than the players (and hence the PCs) already know, so they are of value.

Second, they provide a pause in the combat for both sides (but especially the PCs) to refresh themselves, take stock, and conspire / plan.

Both of those constitute giving the PCs an advantage they don’t currently have, and lead directly to reason three: Never interrupt an enemy when he’s making a mistake.

And, fourth, the rules of the Pulp (and superhero) genres are, Villains Get To Monologue. Heroes get to make stirring speeches.

Which leads to reason five: Villains are invulnerable while Monologing.

Six, Monologing is often when the GM gets to chew up the scenery and show off how clever they have been. Not letting them do so can p*** them off to no good effect.

Seven, confrontations leading to monologues are frequently, but not always the climax of an adventure. When they are not the climax, they advance the plot.

That’s seven good reasons NOT to do what the player proposed, all well understood by most players of this or any other genre. Needless to say, the other players stomped all over the proposed course of action and the player in question beat a hasty retreat in the face of the dreaded GM response, “Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

There Is A Hole In Your Rules

Nevertheless, technically – according to the Hero System rules – there is no reason not to take advantage of a villain putting his puffed-up ego on display in this way. The game mechanics do not enforce nor reinforce the genre in this respect. So it got me thinking about Monologues and whether something could be done to remedy this situation.

Broader Applicability

I laid down some initial thoughts (on a single sheet of paper) and later showed them to my Co-GM for input and discussion. He pointed out some holes and shortcomings in my initial thoughts – hopefully, this post resolves those – but, during the discussion, I realized that the rules (when they were functional) would have broader applicability.

Any genre or sub-genre that engages in melodrama – and that’s most of them at least some of the time – can produce a situation which is at least analogous to a monologue.

  • Goldfinger trying to convince the representatives of various crime syndicates to back his plan to ‘seize’ Fort Knox – that should count.
  • Count Dracula being an extremely urbane host – that should count.
  • Any leader making a speech that tells the flunkies more than just what he/she wants them to do, should count.
  • Any of those heroic stirring speeches – “It’s always darkest before the dawn” – should count.
  • Gandalf putting Grima Wormtongue into his place – that should count.
  • Gandalf trying to persuade Saruman to give up his bend into evil after the sacking of Isengard – you’ld better believe that should count!
  • One more from Tolkien: Any number of speeches by Bilbo in the Hobbit – to Dwarves, to Smaug – they should count, too.

What’s more, the definition of a monologue should expand sufficiently to encompass all of these. That carries it way beyond the narrow scope of the Pulp and Superheroic genres.

What This Post Is Not

I’m not presenting full game mechanics here, for a number of reasons.

First, Hero Games limits the length of such posts to 4 pages. The mechanics involved here would run to several times that limit.

Second, the space would be better utilized in describing how the mechanics work so that they can be adapted to other game systems as desired by GMs.

Third, time is limited and this approach is one that will fit within the available time-frame.

Fourth, the single-page outline referred to in the post survived the relocation of a year ago; the supplementary notes are still hidden away – somewhere. And for some reason, the final spreadsheet referred to in the text got overwritten by an older, incomplete backup – and I don’t have time right now to put humpty-dumpty back together again.

So don’t expect a solution on a platter – more the outline of a solution. What you do with it is then up to you.

History

Greek tragedies used monologing extensively, often breaking the ‘fourth wall’ to enable the character to reveal his thoughts, feelings, and motivations to the audience. Shakespeare also used monologues, and especially villainous monologues, in several of his plays.

A monologue is not necessarily bad writing, therefore. It only becomes that when it’s not a natural outgrowth of the scene – that’s when it feels ‘tacked on’, and that’s the bad writing, it’s not necessarily the monologue itself. Though, if you are capable of making so fundamental a mistake, the odds that the monologue is worthwhile also take a nosedive.

Purposes Of Monologing

Every monologue should have a clear set of purposes behind it, and these have to be understood by the GM and by the owner of any PC taking part. ‘Purposes?’ I hear someone ask – yes, there are three of them: The Character’s Purpose, The Plot Purpose, and The Metagame Purpose.

    The Character’s Purpose

    A character’s reason for monologing, in general terms, is to change the emotional state or intellectual assessment of the listener(s), or both. But that general expression is not useful in defining the parameters of the monologue; an explicit and specific reason needs to be defined which fits that general summary.

    Let’s look at a few examples:

      ▪ A villain monologing may be playing for time, or trying to recruit one or more of the listeners, or trying to intimidate opposition.

      ▪ A politician monologing, i.e. delivering a political speech, is trying to increase the favorable perception of himself while diminishing that of any rivals for office.

      ▪ A hero making a rousing speech is trying to engender hope in the face of rising despair.

      ▪ A character trying to calm an angry mob is trying to calm them so that they will disperse. This requires sympathy for any real or perceived grievances – the latter is important because even if the grievance is just a misunderstanding, the feelings it has aroused are quite genuine.

      ▪ A muckraker or firebrand may be trying to incite a crowd into action; depending on the action being called for, this may transform them into a mob.

    The Plot Purpose

    The monologue has to advance the plot, either by virtue of it’s presence within the game or it’s content. It cannot be meaning-free.

    It’s not just there to pad out playing time, in other words. It has to tell those hearing it something they didn’t already know of significance – be it what the villain is really doing, or why, or expressing an unexpected aspect of his (or her) personality.

    If it’s a hero trying to rouse support, there has to be a clear bifurcation of consequences depending on whether they succeed or fail.

    If it’s a villain, he has to measurably improve his chances of success (even if it’s only a small lift from zero), or at least to reasonably expect such an improvement (many villains are delusional in this respect).

    A direct consequence of this purpose is an expression of the personality of the individual performing the monologue. This need not be a revelation, it can be a refinement or a reiteration, but the monologue needs to shine a light on the personality; if it doesn’t, it’s a generic speech and not something specific to this particular character.

    That means that whoever is delivering the monologue needs to find the “voice” of the character and deliver the monologue in character.

    That’s less of a problem if you can prep and polish a speech in advance; it’s not fair to expect players to match that quality of polish when they are improving. That’s an issue for the game mechanics – they need to capture the flavor of a character delivering a monologue in character even if the player isn’t, can’t, or does a relatively poor job of it.

    The Metagame Purpose

    Lastly, there needs to be a Metagame Purpose or Function for the Monologue. In the case of the GM delivering an NPCs monologue, that’s usually to impart information. In the case of a player delivering a PC monologue, it’s to change the course of the adventure – i.e. that’s the player’s purpose as well as that of the character.

    The monologue needs to actually contain such information – it needs to be seeded into it. In the case of a GM, there needs to be some factual foundation (even if it’s only in the mind of the speaker); in the case of a Player, he needs to provide a reason for the listeners to change how they feel about the situation, whatever it might be.

      Example:
      1 .Verifiably Factual statement
      2. Contrast with Opposition position
      3. Logical interpretation: “You’re being played for fools.”
      4. Call t o action: “If I were you, I’d be mad as heck about it. I’d write his office and phone his office and make sure he knew I wasn’t going to stand for it. I sure as shooting wouldn’t vote for him.”

    In fact, it will make life a lot simpler if these are identified and defined before word one of the monologue is ever written.

Benefit Of Monologing

This is where things started to get a little controversial. It was my notion that (a) the monologuer derive an advantage from monologing, and (b) that the audience gain an advantage by not interrupting the monologue. But that brings in questions of how large an advantage and whether or not the two should cancel each other out, or be different in some way, and how the existing game mechanics were going to integrate with this new House Rule.

The Benefit Of The Monologuer

I had already decided that there should be a non-linear time scale to the length of the monologue (I’ll go into that below). Each step down that length should add either to the effect and/or to the chance of the effect occurring. One of the two should increase regularly by small amounts and the other less regularly and possibly by larger amounts, and possibly by different amounts each time.

    The Foundation Mechanic

    After trying variations in my head for a couple of minutes, I decided that the foundation of the game mechanic should be the Presence Attack. In essence, under our variation of this game system, characters make an opposed charisma check (or they can substitute an appropriate skill check). If the character making the attack wins, they get to roll a number of d6 based on the difference between the two rolls against a target stat selected by the GM as appropriate to the nature of the attack and the desired effect that the speech-maker wants to have.

      ▪ If they want passion to overcome clinical thought, that’s vs INT.

      ▪ If they want passion to overcome good common sense, that’s vs WILL (called EGO in the base rules).

      ▪ If they want to be liked or loved, that’s vs CHA (or PRES in the Hero system).

      ▪ If they want to overcome despair, that’s INT again.

      ▪ If they want to overcome exhaustion, that’s WILL (EGO)again.

      ▪ If they simply want to rouse up the troops to a fighting peak, that’s CHA (PRES) again.

    There were any number of modifiers that added or subtracted dice, sometimes adding to the chance of success by the active aggressor (we kept it simple and made all modifiers to their score, so that the target was always simply as defined) by the stats of the target.

    For multiple targets, you averaged their stat values and made a single roll to succeed – but there were modifiers for crowd size (the chance of success goes down but the number of dice you get if you do succeed goes up). You then make ONE roll against the entire audience that you are addressing.

    Sufficiently-confident or desperate characters could also trade chances of success for extra dice.

    The indicated number of dice were then rolled if the Presence Attack succeeded to determine how big an effect it had.

      ▪ <1 x the target stat – low / minimal effect.

      ▪ 1 x the target stat – substantial effect but very short duration.

      ▪ 3 x the target stat – substantial effect, somewhat longer duration.

      ▪ 5 x the target stat – more profound effect & moderate duration OR substantial effect, long duration

      ▪ 7 x the target stat – profound effect, substantial duration

      ▪ 10 x the target stat – profound effect, roll again; if second roll is 3 x the target stat or better, effect may be semi-permanent.

    A semi-permanent effect lasts until there is an active attempt to undo the change in attitude – and the results of the smaller of the two totals, indexed against a scale, provide an additional penalty to such attempts. The affected individual has become a convert.

    If the crowd was large enough, there was a translation method that yielded multiple results (some people were more convinced than others). These were always applied to targets with low target stat to high. What changed was the proportions of each result. The number of dice divided by the target score was down the left-hand side of the table and the rolled result divided by the target across the top; each cell gave a calculation for the proportion of the audience affected to each extent. As you went down a column, the minimum result rose but the maximum result fell; as you go across a row, both increase, but the maximum increases more.

    If you have 18 dice and the average target is 6 (low) then the minimum that you can roll is 3x the target. If you have 20 dice and the average target is 10 (normal average) then the minimum you can roll is 2x the target and the maximum is 12x the target, with the average result being 7 x the target – you will end up with converts, the only question is how many.

    A key goal of the sub-system redesign was to avoid treading on player agency. The change had to be something the character would find plausible under the circumstances. Implausibility was a big negative on the die pool size, halving or even quartering it before other adjustments were made.

    The table was generated using a spreadsheet and the actual results that were being represented, but not every outcome was modeled, making the results simpler to determine. You simply multiplied the indicated % by the unallocated crowd size, rounding down, and proceeding from most effected until you ended up with the number most marginally affected.

    That lends itself to more dice (i.e. more effect) being a less-frequent increase than chance of success, so that’s the option that was chosen.

The Benefit Of Listening

It was decided that this should be different in kind to the effect of the presence attack. Pre-planned and coordinated actions, tactical positioning to advantage those actions, bonuses to the success of those actions, and even the ability to ‘stockpile’ some of the advantage for later use within the adventure would be layered based on the duration of the monologue.

Bonuses would be awarded if the targets had some means of communicating with each other despite crowd noise (if any) and without the monologuer being able to overhear – that could be anything from hand signals to a full telepathic link.

If anything happened to interrupt the monologue, neither side would get the full advantage that they were aiming for or entitled to. That gave a solid reason not to do so – but the monologing character would lose less of his advantage than whoever interrupted him. This balanced realism with the genre-effect that we were looking for..

Duration Of A Monologue

It was decided that a genuine monologue had to last for at least a minute. Shorter speeches would be deemed ‘partial monologues’ and attract penalties relative to a full monologue. Longer speeches would attract benefits relative to the minimum, as described above.

    -4   1-2 seconds *
    -3   1/2 turn or 6 seconds **
    -2   1 turn, 10 or 12 seconds **
    -1   1/4 minute
    0   1/2 minute
    1   1 minute
    2   2 minutes
    3   5 minutes
    4   10 minutes
    5   15 minutes
    6   20 minutes
    7   30 minutes
    8   45 minutes
    9   1 hour
    10   1 1/2 hrs
    11   2 hrs
    12   2 1/2 hrs
    13   3 hrs
    14   4 hrs
    15   5 hrs+

    * or one sentence, whichever is less.
    ** whichever is shorter.

But what’s to stop characters performing a filibuster – i.e. saying any fool thing that comes into their head to pad out the clock? That brings me to the subject of the monologue’s content.

Content Of A Monologue

The content of a monologue is critical. After all, the monologuer isn’t just flapping his lips to feel the breeze, he has a purpose – at least, he’s supposed to have one – and every word has to be directed toward achieving that purpose, with only a limited amount of temporary diversion or digression permitted. And for that purpose to be achieved, whoever’s hearing it has to understand what is being said – they may agree or disagree, but they have to understand it (if they disagree, they may not understand why you are saying something so ‘obviously’ false).

When the audience stop understanding, they stop paying attention. When the audience is no longer listening, the monologue is over.

    Relevance

    A monologue can’t consist of just anything. It has to be relevant (or connected to relevance fairly quickly) – the number next to the duration is the number of off-topic words permitted before you connect back to the topic; fail, and the monologue ends and is counted as the current time, round down to the next shortest duration. The longer your speech, the more room there is for latitude.

    The limits of repetition

    The monologue can never repeat itself. That doesn’t mean that a catch-phrase, or statement of theme, or call to action can’t be repeated – but it has to get there by a different route each time. If the monologue becomes repetitive, people stop listening – which means that the monologue ends and the duration is again rounded down to the next shortest duration.

    Each hour of speech permits limited repetition – repeating something from the first half of the hour just passed – to drive the point home, but we’re talking about nothing more than 1 minute of the 60 minutes.

    The Target Audience

    The monologue can’t go over the audience’s heads.

    Divide the average intelligence of the audience by 7.5 – rounded down, that’s the number of sentences they can understand at a time. (Yes, I know that’s a cynical evaluation, and the reality is probably division be 5 or 6).

    Multiply the result (with decimal place) by 3 – that’s the number of consecutive words you can use before they get lost. (The real average is more like 2.75). Don’t count single-character words like ‘a’, or ‘I’, and don’t count ‘and’ or ‘the’ while you’re about it. Numbers count twice, four times if they are a fraction, five times if there’s a decimal place. Subtract 8 from the word-count if you can point at an image explaining or illustrating what you’re talking about (4 if it’s a graph).

    Multiply the result (with decimal place) by 2.5 – that’s the number of consecutive syllables you can use before employing a word that the audience understands.

    Exceed any of these limits, and the audience is gone, lost and confused and dismissive. And you will be forever at a -8 (d20 scale) / -40 (d% scale) when talking to them again.

    Making this practical

    No-one seriously sits around counting words and syllables (except in real life, where there are people who do just that!). The GM has to put himself into the shoes of the average audience member and decide on that basis when the limits are exceeded. If the monologue is by an NPC, he has to do this at the same time as actually delivering the monologue (or parts thereof).

    The GM would have to determine how the crowd reacts to the monologue anyway; all this does is give some guidance when it comes to certain limitations.

    Allow For Mood

    Mood can also be a factor. If the audience is in a relaxed, composed mood and ready for some deep and stimulating thinking, you can get away with more, perhaps even 2-3 times as much. Some will think they understand what you’re getting at, most will be wrong – but some will be right, and others will figure it out as you go along, especially if you populate your speech with examples the audience can understand.

    If the mood is angry and rebellious, you have less safety margin than usual – maybe half as much. A mob has no patience for gentle placation or explanation; they need to be directed, not coddled. As soon as you lose even a fraction of them, there is a chance that a member of that fraction will issue a call to action (no matter how ridiculous) – and have those who may be wavering join in. “He’s working for them – ” (even if ‘He’ isn’t) – “Stone the polecat!” “Stone Him” – “Traitor” – and the mob turns violently against the monologuer trying to calm things down.

Analyzing A Heard / Witnessed Monologue

Any audience can be divided up into five sub-groups:

  • The intractably opposed
  • The strongly opposed
  • The neutral / undecided
  • The supportive / agreeable
  • The intractably supportive

A ‘friendly’ audience has at least 60% in the top two categories and no less than 20% in the undecided camp.

An ‘unfriendly’ audience has at least 50% in the bottom three categories.

A ‘hostile’ audience has more than 50% in the bottom two categories.

Anything else is some shade of a ‘normal’ audience.

It gets progressively harder to change someone’s mind, the further they are from the middle. The intractably supportive will still be supportive even if you completely mess up your monologue (read, “your speech”) to them – unless your failure is epicly catastrophic (it can happen)!

Similarly, the intractably opposed are unlikely to become any shade of supportive in one motion. The best you can usually hope for is sewing doubt and uncertainty, shifting them to the second or third category – though an epic rabble-rouse can sometimes go beyond this limit.

The monologuer should (but won’t always) have reasonable expectations. That’s a matter of their personality and any mental quirks or demons they may have on their shoulders.

What’s more common is to shift the non-intractable one step in a given direction (depending on the monologuer’s success or failure). Any such shift will often be temporary – hearing from the other side can be enough to restore the former status quo in those originally neutral, opposed, or hostile.

One thing that can help ‘fix’ a change in place is a call to action, a demand that ‘something be done and here is the best something’. That’s why most speeches and monologues end with such a call – which is what makes them different from a soliloquy.

If the audience don’t like that suggested course of action, or have misunderstood the message, they can take matters into their own hands. Many speakers have roused a crowd only to lose control of them and have them turn into a mob. Few get a second chance, because the intractables will always feel “if you aren’t with us, you’re agin’ us” – and one of them may direct the unleashed hostility of the crowd in the speaker’s direction as a result.

It follows that understanding the message content of a monologue is critical, and each of these sub-groups are likely to have a different reaction. There will be:

  1. Those who are ideologically and implacably opposed to the view you are presenting;
  2. Those who are hopelessly confused by what you are saying and retreat to simplistic (mis-)understandings;
  3. Those who think they understand and agree that something should be done, but think your proposed solution one that goes too far;
  4. Those who think they understand and agree with you and your solution;
  5. Those who become intractably convinced by what they understand to be the problem but don’t think your solution doesn’t go far enough;
  6. And those who really do understand what you’ve said and what you propose should be done about it. Some percentage of these will think your solution goes too far, a like percentage will think it doesn’t go far enough, and the rest – sometimes the minority, sometimes the majority, depending on how polarizing the issue is – will back your play.

Once you have achieved a shift in the thinking of a band of the audience, you can attempt to move that into a ‘camp’ appropriate to your purposes instead of shifting them a second band. Such a change will not apply universally; generally, all six of the above groups will be represented; what you are changing is the proportions, and trying to steer the most vocal majority into line with your proposal.

Initial position matters a great deal – each entry on the original ‘bands’ of attitude (the list that includes the ‘implacables’) will bias the members of that group one way or another. The implacably opposed, even if you manage to convince them of a problem, are likely to disagree with your proposed solution. Pushing them further – into neutrality – is harder, and less likely to happen – but makes them much easier to ‘push’ into supporting your desired course of action.

All this means that an analysis of the audience’s reaction to an attempted monologue is both critical and complicated.

    The Realistic Way

    1. The multiple of effect relative to target (discussed in ‘The Foundation Mechanic) can be equated to a number of Action Points. A simple 1:1 is probably best, but that’s up to the GM implementing a monologue sub-system to their game’s mechanics. I also like to add 1 to this for a success and subtract 1 for a failure. If you have them within your mechanics, plus-or-minus three for critical successes / failures would not be unreasonable.

    The more action points, the larger the costs that can be made, and the more precisely the mechanics can be targeted – but the more complicated everything becomes.

    2. The GM divides up the audience, allocating proportions to each faction as percentages of the whole.

    3. One faction at a time, the GM determines the breakup after the monologue, again allocating percentages of the faction to each of the six groups and deciding what the ‘general default’ position is based on the faction’s original leanings and anything else that he deems relevant.

    4. It costs a certain number of action points to shift Implacables one step (if you use my suggestions in (1) then 3 is a reasonable price). Shifting them a second space uses two, each space thereafter costs 1. Or you can use 1 point to shift each sub-factions response 1 step up or down the second table. The GM decides this, not the monologuer, even if the monologue was by a PC, because this is all about NPC reactions – and it’s too much work to do if PCs are the targets, just leave their response to player agency (challenge their choice if it doesn’t seem realistic, though).

    5. Once (4) is taken into account, tally up the percentages of each faction that are in each of the six response categories. Multiply by the Faction percentage to get the contribution to the overall response.

    6. Repeat for the other 4 Factions.

    7. Total the percentages for each response. That gives the overall initial reaction of the audience.

    8. Roll a d% against each total. If you succeed, at least one member of that group is vocal enough to try and convince those around him.

    9. Taking the results of (8) into account, estimate the ‘buzz’ in the room and which direction the audience will ultimately ‘gel’ into, overall.

    10. Describe the results to the players – without using numbers. Terms like “a small group” or “the majority” are just fine.

    A simpler solution

    Use gut feel and the overall plot to simply decide 7, 8, and 9, taking into account the starting position of the audience. Then go directly to step 10.

    Why make life more complicated than it has to be?

Policy Announcements & Political Speeches

It should be obvious from the above that this system also works as a means of determining the responses to policy announcements and political speeches. Even Trumpian rallies fit the model.

It’s impossible to argue that Political speeches of any kind don’t have a lot in common with villainous monologues and heroic speeches, anyway!

Political Debates

Debates would have to work a little differently. Regardless of the subject matter, though, it’s all about shifting attitudes, and that’s what this sub-system is good at simulating.

Start by giving each participant a Joker or a chit.

For each debate topic, each debater makes a roll. If there is an implicit bias in the question toward one of them, give them a bonus – the bigger the bias, the bigger the bonus. Whoever gets the best total (or greatest margin of success, depending on your game mechanics) wins the point.

If you want, you can treat opening statements and closing statements as individual debate topics. My personal inclination would be, respectively, 1/2-a-topic and a full topic, but that’s up to the GM.

At any point (but usually when they think they are losing a point), a participant can play their joker / chit to represent doing something wildly unexpected that’s worth +5 to their roll (+25 if using a d%).

At the end of the debate, the GM should rank each topic from least important to most important (low to high). Each candidate will have won some points along the way; multiply the ranking of the question by 1 to get the number of points overall that they win.

Total the results for each candidate and then divide by 2 (to take into account an unwillingness to change on the part of most people). If there is more than two participants, increase this by 0.5 for each additional candidate.

Whoever’s total is the highest can be declared the winner of the debate; the difference between the two reflects the percentage of hearts and minds shifted (but the exact ratio is up to the GM).

The above mechanic works whether or not the debate is a traditional one, with the issues addressed and people getting a right of reply, or Trump-style tactics of intimidation. Note that debates never change the implacables on either side; it’s the rest, and especially the undecideds, that both sides are playing for.

One final point: the GM should always take individual personalities and reputations into account when deciding what bonuses / penalties are appropriate. For example, if a debater has a reputation for a certain policy position and his answer seems to contradict that track record, the other debater(s) are quite likely to highlight this inconsistency. This amounts to an additional penalty that the first debater has to overcome with a good die roll.

Interviews and Media Appearances

These work just like debates – except that the other side rolls a flat 10, every time. Some questions will be hostile or difficult (a negative modifier), others will be softballs (a positive modifier). Each question is a ‘debate topic’.

The GM can choose to weight the value of any hostile / difficult questions x2 and any softballs x 1/2, because the former can actually change opinions while the latter are less likely to do so.

Restrictions During A Monologue

During any monologue, the primary focus of the person delivering the monologue has to be delivering that monologue – reading the room, deciding when a point is getting traction and should be pushed, and when it’s not and should be cut short, and so on. At the same time, the audience’s primary focus (including any PCs) has to be listening to the monologue and evaluating it.

It’s a very fuzzy line to draw, but the GM has to determine if any proposed action would disrupt one or both of these focuses. Doing so ends the monologue prematurely, which is not a good thing.

Whatever the benefits of seeing out the monologue were supposed to be, the monologuer who was interrupted gets them +50% while the interrupters not only lose the benefits they would have gotten, if possible the GM should apply them as penalties.

But, if it’s the monologuer who crosses the line, these penalties are reversed.

It can also be an angry third party who is responsible – well, I presume that they are angry about something. Throwing an egg, or a piece of fruit, or a grenade; firing a gun; charging the stage – any of these, and anything similar, precipitates an early end to the monologue and lumps one side with the benefits and the other side with the penalties described – depending on who the interrupter was seen as more closely related to in positions on subjects.

An eco-warrior staging a protest at a rally by a moderate supporter of ecological issues because the eco-warrior doesn’t think the politician is going far enough is usually bad news for that politician – a lose-lose proposition, no matter what the outcome.

That can put PCs in the interesting position of actively doing something to permit a monologue to continue, even if they oppose it or disagree with it. And doing so with minimum disruption, maybe even without coming to the attention of the monologuer (if they are in disguise).

Every proposed action should come with a warning from the GM if it risks going too far. Unless it’s by an NPC, in which case the GM knows whether or not it’s ‘going too far’ and should advise the PCs of the likely consequences.

Actions During A Monologue

Almost anything else, in terms of actions within a monologue, is fair game. Some actions can even be thought of as benefiting the monologue – a TV screen displaying some past egregious action on the part of an enemy, or showing them saying something that can be misinterpreted, or even interpreted correctly! Or conjuring a mystic smoke vision that is the equivalent. Or just about anything else you can think of.

As usual, though, there’s a caveat – whoever is making the monologue has to appear to remain focused on what he is saying and who he is saying it to. He can’t afford to look distracted or uncertain, not for a moment. Stalling for time while waiting for something to happen is the hardest part of a monologue. So much so that it is often better to forego the ‘stunt’ and get on with the monologue – it may be less effective, but it has far less of a risk of falling flat.

Preparatory Actions During A Monologue

Things that are absolutely permitted, even encouraged, are for players to think about what they want their characters to do when the monologue ends. The sheer drama of bolts of energy raining down on the monologuer just as he has announced his inevitable superiority to all challengers is hard to top.

Maneuvering to be in position to perform such actions is usually fine as well – so long as it’s done slowly and quietly and a little at a time. Looking like you’re trying to find a better vantage point to see the monologuer is especially unlikely to trigger any problems.

Coordinating actions for the end of the monologue can be an entirely different issue. If the PCs have some means of private communications, that’s one thing, let the players plot and plan all they want, while you keep up the simulated patter from the ‘stage’ or it’s equivalent. Players should not interrupt the monologue for any reason, even to ask a question about layout or where things are positioned – they should make assumptions, indicate to the GM without interrupting him what those assumptions are, and let him correct any errors in the same way (see ‘Interrupting the flow’ below).

If they have no such capability, require players to write down any assumptions they are going to make about what other characters (including the monologuer) are going to do at the end of the monologue and then write down their action (in general terms) without consultation with anyone else.

The better the players know each other’s characters, the more likely they are to get this second-guessing right. The less familiar they are with each other, the greater the comedy of errors that is likely to ensue. Both are entirely reasonable, given the basic assumptions that underpin those disparate outcomes.

Advanced Technique: Feeding Rope / Engaging In The Monologue

There are some clear benefits for the listening side of any monologue, but some speakers are canny and will try to avoid making the obvious mistakes of revealing their whole plot. They will show just enough of the cards in their hand to reassure any followers who may be wavering or uncertain, while keeping one or two firmly tucked up their sleeves. As a player I know once used to say regularly, “The alignment doesn’t read ‘Chaotic Stupid’.”

Some antagonists may choose to goad the monologuer on, in hopes of getting them to say too much, carried away by a wave of enthusiasm. This technique can be especially useful of the majority of the audience are disposed to be friendly to the monologuer, because the antagonist has little or nothing to lose – they can be seen by the audience to “lose” the debate with the monologuer while opening a doorway into a minefield for them to traipse through.

There is something of an art form to this technique – you need to challenge the monologuer strongly enough that they are forced to respond, but with an argument or challenge light enough that they can easily do so. They can’t be left in a position of being able to ignore the challenge, and the bias of the general audience means that no matter how good the line of challenge is, it won’t make much of a dent in the monologuer’s support.

The weaker that original support level, the more the monologuer’s line of argument can be challenged on its merits, and the more there is to gain from doing so. They are far less likely, when addressing a neutral or antagonistic audience, to be goaded into going too far (unless they have known self-control issues or other psychological quirks that can be preyed upon).

One thing should be clear – this technique falls apart if there are more than one challenger. “They have to gang up on me” is too easy an out for the monologuer, and completely overpowers the objective of leading them on. Therefore, should they wish to utilize this technique, PCs have to select one of their number to be their representative in challenging the monologuer. This will often be the character with the best Oratory skill (if there is any such thing in the game mechanics). Failing that, it becomes a heated debate as to which one makes for the best choice: Highest INT, Highest WIS, or Highest CHA (or their equivalents).

I think that it should come down to the grounds of the intended challenge(s) – challenging logic is INT, challenging practicality is WIS, and challenging personality is CHA.

The challenged monologuer should make a roll against the chosen stat or grounds, with the duration of the monologue thus far as a penalty. It’s a lot easier to prod someone into a misstep after they’ve hit their stride and gotten used to talking to the audience – they start to relax, and that’s when they become most vulnerable to this technique. Of course, if the PCs wait too long, the monologue might end and they will have missed their chance.

It might be that the best Orator amongst the PCs should focus not on what is being delivered in the monologue, but on the way it’s being delivered, with a view to identifying the perfect moment for someone else to interject; that’s up to the players and the strategy that they want to adopt.

“But I’m No Good At Public Speaking…”

Speaking of Oratory, there can be a big difference between the polished capabilities of a PC and those of the character’s player. In theory, it can also swing in the other direction, but I’ve never played with someone who was an accomplished public speaker – an actor or radio announcer, for example.

The GM has to make all appropriate allowances for this when a PC is making a speech, or egging a monologuer on. He also has to work hard on his own abilities in this respect, including polishing monologues until they gleam to the exact standard appropriate to the monologuer. That can be really hard to do if the GM has to roll on the spot for the effectiveness of the monologue; it’s frankly a lot easier for the GM to make his rolls in advance and write accordingly.

Not every word in a monologue has to be delivered. Actually delivering a multi-hour monologue? Boring!! This can come to the GM’s rescue, however; he can describe the subject matter of a section of the speech, how convincingly it is delivered, and how it is received, in far less time than actually delivering the speech – and with far less prep. Sprinkling in some key phrases from the speech is usually enough – especially any call to action, because the events that follow should derive from the reaction(s) to that call.

Interrupting The Flow with side-comments / side-chatter

Most of the time when I’m GMing, I have no problem with side-chatter and side-comments, jokes and puns and nuggets of information known by one of the players but not necessarily by his or her character. In fact, there are times when I rely on some of that to wallpaper over rough spots in the plot, or give me a break from exposition, or just to let a player engage more fully with the plotline in moments that don’t have his character doing very much.

There are limits to this tolerance, and my players seem to be especially bad at picking up those signals from my part of the table. Here’s a hint, guys: if I’m not engaging in the banter, or laughing along with the rest of you, it might be time to refocus! But never mind that – we manage to muddle through without me displaying signs of impatience – too often.

My tolerance goes way down when an NPC is speaking. If there’s a conversation going on, that’s a different story to some extent, but if the NPC is monologing, judge your need for a witticism very carefully, and be even more wary of side-discussions and side-stories and content criticisms. IBreak the mood or train of though of a monologue and I may rule that you said something In Character even if you didn’t mean to – with the full consequences outlined above for premature interruption. What’s more, if the character is not in a position to have access to any information used by the player, I may also rule that whatever they interrupted with is NOT what the player said, but is some cultural misinterpretation or misunderstanding thereof.

A lesser penalty is simply to forbid the players from performing any action suggested by someone their character can’t interact with, no matter how much it might make sense. One or two occasions of that – with appropriate explanations for the ruling afterwards – and they will usually get the hint. There may be other occasions when communications is not so constrained, and suggestions can flow thick and fast – that sort of collaboration is a whole different story, and your explanations should make that clear.

I’m generally fairly careful to make the players aware that someone is Monologing. It may be employing metagaming, but actually stating “He then begins to Monologue” is probably the best answer – so long as players know what that implies.

And that’s what this post is all about really. Game mechanics are all well and good – and sometimes useful – but its the immersion – in the game, in the plot, in the scene, in the characters, and in the moment – that is most important. The mechanics described in this post should be considered guidelines for integrating and simulating that immersion with the natural reality of cause-and-effect within the genre of game being played, a means to an end, and not an end in and of themselves.

The latter lends itself to the promotion of roll-playing over role-playing, and that’s something I resist at every opportunity.

Ultimately, the threat of developing game mechanics for Oratory and Monologing is probably as effective a weapon as actually doing so, at least most of the time; that’s another reason why I haven’t given too many game-mechanics details in this post. That’s something for GMs to keep in mind when assessing whether or not they need to take this issue one step further, and actually impose such house rules.

And that’s food for thought for everyone, both in this specific instance, and in general broader principle.

Further Reading

There are a lot of resources out there to help GMs (and players) prepare a monologue / speech. I’ve cherry-picked a number that at least looked promising, below. I’ve tried to group them so that those on a similar topic are close together, but the field is so broad that this won’t always have been possible.

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