The Destruction of Pharaoh's Host by John Martin / CC0 license
I recently completed my first therapeutic RPG cohort. We had three players, six sessions, and about a two-month time span, overall. The thing about a group like this is that it fundamentally has to end at a fixed point. Most casual games I’ve been a part of either fizzle out unceremoniously, or end based on plot milestones that can be postponed with side quests to avoid wrapping up. But with a campaign tied to a real, defined, agreed upon point in time, a responsible GM can’t just leave things on a cliffhanger — or worse, pull some Sopranos-style fade-to-black where everyone is left unsatisfied. So, if the end is near, and there’s no smooth way of progressing to a natural conclusion, introduce epilogues.
An epilogue is essentially a minute or two of game time where a player gains complete narrative agency to describe what happens to their character over the next few minutes (or days, or years) after the events of the collaborative story. These are often verbal skeletons of events that occur, but it’ll be enough for the GM to take and weave into the world as a response, tying things back to previous events, showing the impact and legacy the character had, and potentially illustrating the growth of the character beyond stats and abilities. Each player gets one, and is welcome to incorporate other player characters as they see fit, as long as they aren’t taking away another player’s personal agency.
It takes a little bit of setup. The session before, be sure to confirm to your players that the next session will be the final one. This is especially important in a therapeutic setting, but no one likes to be surprised by an ending they didn’t see coming. Let the players know that they shouldn’t try to pursue new subplots, but should focus on wrapping things up as much as possible in game. It might sound a bit like ‘railroading’ (railroading is a term that describes running players through a game where they have very little agency, and are essentially playing characters in a book the GM has already written), but there’s a distinct difference: everyone has already consented and agreed to ending the game. It is everyone’s responsibility to end it on time. As the GM, you’re just holding people accountable to the table’s social contract.
Is there meta involved (i.e. are players playing their characters with the construct of the game in mind over loyalty to the fiction)? Yes, absolutely. Ending a game is essentially an agreement outside of the game, so by its nature, it’s essential that characters work toward some kind of conclusion, even if their characters wouldn’t necessarily move in that direction naturally. If a player can’t finish up everything they wanted for their character before the game ends, they should focus on some key elements that they are able to complete. It’s very common for players to think about how their characters will exist beyond the game; give them a chance to share those tales with the group.
I’ll give you an example. In the game that I just concluded, the group had entered a massive forest to search for an animal companion for their Druid. Along the way, they were captured by a patrol of orcs, but were able to stay calm during the capture to prevent a violent outcome. From the orcs’ perspective, the party had been trespassing in the orcs’ domain, and the orcs were simply protecting their home.
During the capture, the group’s pirate Paladin was granted a boon from his deity, who commanded him to collect water from the orcish city and bring it back to the ocean. The party’s Wizard went along with the peaceful capture, but held a significant amount of disdain for his ‘uncivilized’ captors. The final session was spent with the party earning the respect of the orcs by performing various essential labors. They had some failures and some successes, and ultimately just became part of the city. They learned that the orcish city was entirely self-sustaining, and connected completely with the forest around them. The orcish society was very different in structure to what the party was used to, but the city’s people were welcoming to the party, even though they had started off on the wrong foot.
When we had 30 minutes left in the session, I brought up epilogues and how the players could use them to wrap up their characters’ arcs. In their epilogues, each player stated what story elements they wanted to conclude. The Druid wanted to find her animal companion, the Paladin wanted to collect water for his god, and the Wizard wanted to find a place for themselves, having been expelled from their academy through no fault of their own.
We ran through how the Druid was invited by the same patrol band who had captured her to go on a hunt, and while doing so, she freed and befriended a fox that had found its way into a trap. We ran through how a city elder found the Paladin clearly at odds with himself; he wanted to fulfill a command from his god, but he didn’t want to steal the water and betray the trust of the city. The Paladin was finally able to vocalize his dilemma, and the city elder simply gave him the water he sought. We ran through how the Wizard would sit around the nightly dinner fire listening to the older cityfolk tell stories of the city’s past and the forest’s legends, and how the Wizard eventually became the city’s chronicler after spending months with them. After that, we were done. I thanked everyone for participating, and we said our goodbyes.
It’s important to note that epilogues don’t have to mean that everything about the game is over. I’ve started a second therapeutic cohort in which two of the previous cohort’s players (the Druid and the Paladin) are taking part, and the new cohort has decided to allow the Druid and Paladin characters to continue into a second round of adventuring. All that ‘ending a game’ has to mean is that there’s a definitive conclusion of the current story arc.
The catharsis that comes with stepping away from characters for a bit can be incredibly fulfilling, and knowing that your characters’ stories will go on without you makes it a lot easier to move on to the next game.
Brendan Quinn is the President of Tri-City Area Gaming, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit that promotes critical thinking skills with community-building events and supports game-based educational and charitable activities. He is an ASWB certified Therapeutic Game Master with over 20 years of GM experience.
Tri-City Area Gaming uses tabletop gaming as a framework for social interaction, education, and community building. They host nearly 100 events a year in order to bring folks together in a way that’s safe, friendly, and inclusive.
Check out Tri-City Area Gaming’s events and follow them on social media: tcag.carrd.co
