How to Engage Players and Master Storytelling in the Forgotten Realms
It’s been a while since my last post, and with one week left until our next Night Below session, I thought I’d take this opportunity to reflect. A question that often pops up, especially in an era overflowing with actual-play shows, is: How is one actually supposed to be a Dungeon Master?
The short answer is: There is no manual or set rulebook.
Whether you are watching high-budget professional productions or observing a group of friends filming around their kitchen table, they all have one thing in common: a group of friends getting together to escape the daily grind, tell stories, and lose themselves in a fantasy world.
From the 90s to Today
When I started as a DM in the mid-90s, there was no YouTube or podcasting. Roleplaying was mysterious and foreign—something you heard rumors about, perhaps from an older sibling or a friend. It was a different time, but the thrill of exploring those first rulebooks was just the same.
Many believe today that you need to master every single mechanic to be a good DM. I disagree. Yes, you should understand the system—especially in a tactical setting like Forgotten Realms where AD&D 2nd Edition mechanics regarding skills and combat are foundational—but granular, encyclopedic knowledge is not the goal. My best advice? Don’t get hung up on the rules. If a situation arises where you don’t know the specific rule, make a ruling that keeps the story moving, and look it up after the session. The narrative is always more important than the mechanics.
The most critical shift in mindset is recognizing that this is a collaboration. You are not a writer directing actors; you are a facilitator. A common mistake is to describe what the players are thinking or doing—don't. That is their agency. Instead, create the world, present the challenge, and ask: 'What are you thinking now?' or 'What do you do in this situation?'
Your job is to ensure everyone at the table feels included, thrives, and enjoys the game. As Matt Colville beautifully illustrates in his Running the Game series, every player is different. Some shine in combat, others in social intrigue. Getting to know your players—and their characters—is the single most valuable investment you can make. Putting your energy into understanding them is far more productive than memorizing every line of the rulebook.
The Art of Engagement
How do you keep players engaged? My approach is to describe the surroundings in detail to set the mood. However, be careful: if you only use detailed descriptions when something dramatic is about to happen, your players will quickly learn to recognize that a threat is imminent.
I counteract this by describing scenes in detail even when nothing is necessarily going to happen. It builds a living world, not just a series of encounter rooms.
"You are walking through an old oak forest late in the day. The birds are chirping, sunlight is streaming through the canopy, and a light breeze makes the leaves rustle. You reach a clearing, and there, in a meadow of colorful flowers, stands the old log cabin with the distinct red door the barkeeper mentioned."
When players succeed in a skill check, the reward should be a description that triggers the senses. Don't just say, "You found a sword." Describe the discovery:
"The light from your torch glints off something under the pile of clothes. A skeletal hand protrudes, the fingers clutching metal—metal that has not been tarnished by the passage of time."
Senses and Immersion
Use all the senses: smell, touch, taste, sight, and hearing. The smell of ozone after the mage casts a lightning bolt, the cold sensation of spring rain seeping inside your armor, or the taste of iron on your lips when a fight draws to a close.
When I describe combat, I try to move away from dry numbers and tap into the visceral nature of AD&D:
"You swing your sword horizontally, hitting the bandit high in the chest. You feel the blade bite into the ribcage and hear bones splinter before the steel exits the other side. Blood sprays, and the shock on the bandit's face is the last thing you see before he drops dead to the ground."
Remember, you don't need to be a professional voice actor to bring a world to life; in fact, trying to mimic a professional performance can sometimes create an unnecessary barrier. Instead, focus on the 'hooks' of a character. I rely on simple physical cues—a hunched posture, a restless hand, or a distinct, repeating cadence in speech—rather than complex vocal gymnastics.
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Give your NPCs quirks that linger in the players' minds: a nervous tic, a propensity for spitting, or a gross habit like absentmindedly picking their nose or drooling while they haggle over prices. These aren't just colorful details; they are psychological anchors. A memorable NPC acts as a catalyst for player interaction. When you give a character a tangible, slightly flawed humanity, players stop seeing them as static quest-givers and start treating them as real people. They remember the character who wiped their greasy hands on their tunic before shaking theirs, and because they remember that interaction, they are far more likely to engage, negotiate, and truly care about the outcome of that encounter.
The Balancing Act
It is important to emphasize that none of this "theatrical" style is a requirement. I have played with DMs who stick strictly to the mechanics—"You hit, 7 damage," "You see a bandit"—and I have thoroughly enjoyed those games as well, because my own imagination fills in the gaps.
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We live in an age defined by "The Mercer Effect," from Critical Role, where unrealistic expectations for home games are set by professional actors. It is important to remember that these shows do not represent the everyday roleplayer. However, they do provide me with inspiration and motivation to improve my storytelling. Watching these streams can both be daunting and inspiring, my personal favorite is Critical Role. I don't expect my players to do voices or physical acting, but if they try, I always praise the effort.
Ultimately, there is no right or wrong way to do this. Whether you are a DM who focuses on the tactical crunch or one who paints the entire scene with sensory details—as long as you are having fun, you are doing it perfectly.
How do you handle this in your campaign or around your RPG table?
Playing AD&D 2nd Edition as Adults: Friendship, Nostalgia & Escapism
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