The Spahn Doctrine

The One-Word Key to Being A Great DM

There are countless essays on how to run a good game. The kind of game where the players are locked in. Never mind not looking at their cellphones, but the kind of game where they forget they own a cell phone. The kind of game that makes you look up and go “Shit, it’s two in the morning” when you sat down to play at six o’clock. The kind of game where everyone’s in the moment, paying attention to every clatter of dice, every miniature on the table, and hanging on every word that comes out of your mouth as the DM.

I’m here to tell you those videos have a lot of great advice about organization, about prep, about creating great plots, and about having fun at the table. But in the end, it boils down to one thing that’s at the center of The Spahn Doctrine:

Showmanship.

You, as the DM, need to be a rock star, nay a rock god, when the hit points are dwindling, the dice are flying, you are center stage with fireworks exploding around you weaving a tapestry of fantasy that has never been seen before and will never be seen again. You’re there, 100%, giving everything you’ve got to the audience you call the Player Characters and like the crowd at a packed stadium, they’re throwing it right back at you. Being a DM is as Rock n’ Roll as it gets, so grab your axe and mount up.

Sure, that sounds badass - but how do you, ya know, do it. Well, you can’t just learn a few licks, slap on a leather jacket, and sell out the stadium.

The first, most important rule is to remember No One Was Born a Rock God. You have to practice your craft. That means when you first start out, you’ll play some bad notes, have some rough sets, and a handful of shows will be duds. That’s all part of the path to godhood. You gotta take your licks before your licks become a fire to light up the sky. So don’t lose confidence.

In fact, the cornerstone of being a showman is exactly that: Confidence. Say it with confidence, and people believe it. Remember, your players are there because they want an adventure that’ll blast them across the room. They want to join you on that epic thrill ride. They’re on your side. And if you’re reading this and you’re a player, you need to remember it too. You give what you get, so if the DM is throwing it out hot and heavy, give right back to ‘em.

Confidence comes from knowing what you’re doing, but no one needs to know every rule in the book when you sit down to play. You need to know the foundations of your art, the core principles, the foundational ideas. You need to look at what the masters who came before you did and you need to respect their hustle. You know their names 20, 30, or 40-some years later for a reason. They’re the gods calling you home.

Then, you need to grab it all by the throat and make it your own. It really is like being a musician. Once you know the notes, how to play them, you will find yourself able to do things with them that no one has done before. You’ll get a sense for what feels right, for what just makes sense at the table.

Who gives a shit exactly how many of those blood-thirsty, ravaging goblins about to rip your face off fall asleep when the wizard comes in clutch? Just pick the ones that feel right, the ones that add to the drama of the scene, the ones that’ll make your players stand up and cheer.

And once you make a call, keep it moving. Don’t stop, don’t take a breath. Stand by your decision with so much confidence that no one will have time to question it because you’ve already moved on to the next little piece of madness in your symphony of epic fantasy. When you know, confidently, how spells, combat, encounters, and the other foundational elements of the game work the rest of its all epic solos between the verses.

The thing that is absolutely antithetical to the Spahn Doctrine is shame. You need to have none. Ham it up like your name was Smithfield. Think professional wrestling and power metal levels of ridiculousness. Worried about feeling stupid? Well, you’re already sitting around a table playing a game originally written for ten year olds that uses funny dice to codify a game of pretend where you’re an elf. Feeling stupid got left behind a long time ago.

When you’re DM, you’re performing center stage. You better not drop your ass in a chair. Stand up, gesticulate, project, and command attention. You’re everything in the world that isn’t a player character, so you need to keep them glued on your every word, every action. They need to want it, they need to need it, and you’re the only one who can give it to them. So give it to them with the full force of the epic fantasy you’re all weaving.

Don’t hold back. Give ‘em everything you got. Act like this is the last time they’re ever gonna sit at your table. Because it is your table. And you never know when the world outside that you’ve forgotten about because you’re too busy facing off against the Ninth Hell-Dragon of Aralynthranox is going to tear you apart for good. Life has a way of doing that. You’ve carved out a scant few hours from that bastard, so make the most of them.

To encapsulate it all The Spahn Doctrine is Dungeon Mastering as a form of performance art in the same model and with the same skill set of a rock n’ roll live show wherein the player characters serve as both band mates and audience. The elements that create an unforgettable live show can be taken beat by beat, note for note, and moment to moment, applied to the gaming table and will result in the same transcendent experience that is present in large scale musical performances. In short:

Gaming is Rock n’ Roll. Treat it as such.