How to Agree on a Story Game’s Genre Before the Group Starts
Before a group starts a collaborative story game, agree on more than a genre label. Decide what the players will do, what the story should feel like, how serious or playful it will be, and which kinds of scenes belong in it. A short “game pitch” followed by a few concrete examples gives everyone something specific to accept, adjust, or decline before the first move.
Why a genre label is not enough
“Fantasy,” “mystery,” and “science fiction” name broad shelves, not shared expectations. One player may hear “fantasy mystery” and picture a cozy puzzle with eccentric suspects; another may expect a dangerous expedition in which clues are scarce and the outcome is uncertain. Both interpretations fit the label, but they lead to different choices once play begins.
Genre agreement is therefore a practical conversation about the experience the group wants to create. For a useful precedent, tabletop role-playing guidance treats a pre-game discussion as a way to align expectations around the campaign, its premise, and its boundaries. The same principle applies to a one-shot or a freeform co-op story game: say enough about the intended experience that players can picture the same kind of evening. Sly Flourish’s guide to running session zeros describes this alignment as a central purpose of the conversation.
Start with a one-sentence pitch
Have the person proposing the game offer a compact pitch with four parts: genre, premise, player role, and main activity. Keep it descriptive rather than sales-like. For example: “A lighthearted fantasy caper about a crew of apprentice magicians retrieving a misplaced festival lantern; we’ll solve problems through clever plans, character banter, and a few surprising twists.”
That sentence tells the group more than “fantasy adventure.” It suggests a playful tone, a low-stakes objective, a team dynamic, and activities that mix planning with improvisation. It does not settle every detail; it creates a shared starting point for questions.
Use this fill-in structure if a pitch is hard to write: “This is a [genre and tone] story about [premise]. The characters are [role], and most scenes will involve [main activities].” For instance: “This is a warm science-fiction mystery about a small repair crew investigating why a space station’s garden lights keep changing color. The characters are coworkers, and most scenes will involve exploring, comparing clues, and deciding what to try next.” The example is illustrative, not a rule about what a mystery must include.
Translate tone words into scenes
Words such as “fun,” “cinematic,” “dark,” “epic,” or “comedic” can mean different things to different people. Ask each player to describe one scene they would enjoy seeing. Then compare the answers. If one player imagines dramatic speeches and another imagines quick jokes during a chase, the group can decide whether both belong, and how often each should appear.
A small scene test makes the decision concrete. Offer two possible opening moments: “The crew discovers a map that redraws itself whenever someone tells a lie” and “The crew is challenged to a ridiculous pie-baking contest by a rival band of explorers.” Ask whether both feel like the proposed story, whether one should be rare, or whether the group would rather choose a different direction. These are fictional prompts to clarify taste; they are not evidence about any particular game system.
You can also agree on a simple tone range: mostly playful with occasional sincere moments, mostly earnest with room for jokes, or consistently whimsical. That gives the group a useful guide without requiring every scene to match one mood exactly.
Agree on what characters will do most often
A genre describes the flavor of a story, while repeated activities shape what players actually spend time doing. Ask the group to pick two or three activities to emphasize. Options might include exploring unfamiliar places, solving puzzles, building relationships between fictional characters, making plans, overcoming obstacles, or discovering how a setting works.
Try a quick allocation exercise: give everyone three imaginary “spotlight tokens” to place on the activities they most want. If most tokens land on exploration and problem-solving, the pitch should promise plenty of both. If players split between social scenes and action, agree how the story will make room for each. The tokens are just a discussion aid; no tracking system is needed during play.
This step is especially useful when genre and activity could point in different directions. A “mystery” can emphasize clue collection, character conversations, dramatic reveals, or a playful puzzle. A “space adventure” can focus on exploration, crew relationships, strange discoveries, or daring escapes. Ask what players want to do, not only what they want the story to be called.
Set content boundaries alongside genre
Agree on tone and subject matter in plain terms. A whimsical fantasy pitch, for example, may still leave open whether the group wants slapstick mishaps, frightening surprises, romance, or detailed descriptions of danger. Ask what should be included, kept brief, or left out. Players can answer without explaining personal reasons.
A helpful method is to distinguish a firm “leave this out” from a “keep it offstage or brief.” Monte Cook Games’ Consent in Gaming offers a checklist that uses these kinds of differentiated comfort signals and identifies the planned game theme as useful context. The checklist is a starting point for conversation, not a replacement for listening to players or checking again if the story changes direction. Monte Cook Games’ Consent in Gaming
For a lighter adventure, a group could agree: “No graphic descriptions; slapstick peril is fine; surprises are welcome if they fit the playful tone.” Another group might choose “No scary scenes; keep mishaps gentle; focus on curious discoveries.” Specific examples help more than a vague promise to “keep it comfortable.”
Use a short discussion framework
The Daggerheart Session Zero resource points to the CATS framework: Concept, Aim, Tone, and Safety. Those four headings make a compact agenda even when you are not playing that game. Daggerheart’s Session Zero guide
Use them as prompts: Concept—what is the story about? Aim—what do players hope to do or discover? Tone—what should scenes feel like? Safety—which subjects or portrayals are out, and how can someone request a change? This is a topic-specific decision aid: it keeps genre talk from getting stuck on labels by connecting premise, activity, mood, and limits.
For an informal group, this conversation can take ten minutes. For a longer campaign with a developed setting, spend more time on the pitch and content expectations, and leave details that do not affect the opening session for later. The point is to make the first play session intelligible to everyone, not to pre-write the whole story.
Turn agreement into a simple group brief
Before starting, repeat the decision back in a short brief: “We’re playing a playful fantasy caper about recovering a festival lantern. Expect teamwork, exploration, and clever plans; keep danger cartoonish; skip scary scenes. The group can pause and suggest a change if a scene stops fitting.” Invite corrections. If a player says “I thought it was a serious mystery,” you have found a real mismatch while it is still easy to adjust the pitch.
Write the brief in the group chat or keep it visible during play. It should be short enough to reread. Include the genre and tone, the main activities, any agreed content limits, and one way to signal a needed adjustment. Daggerheart’s guide describes lines and veils as boundaries that can be revisited, and an X-Card as a way to edit out content during play; these are optional tools, but the general practice is useful: expectations can be updated when new information appears. Daggerheart’s Session Zero guide
What to do when tastes do not match
Not every preference has to be combined. If one player wants a cozy puzzle and another wants a high-speed expedition, look for a premise that genuinely supports both—perhaps a cheerful treasure hunt with timed challenges—or choose one emphasis for this session and save the other for a future game. Do not describe a compromise as settled until the people involved agree it sounds enjoyable.
If the mismatch concerns a firm boundary, remove or revise that element rather than asking the player to defend the boundary. If the disagreement is about frequency or intensity, specify a manageable adjustment: “Keep action scenes short,” “Let clues be discoverable through more than one approach,” or “Make jokes welcome between serious scenes, not during every dramatic moment.” These are creative choices, not universal genre rules.
A five-minute pre-game checklist
Before the first scene, make sure the group can answer these questions:
A clear genre agreement does not lock the story into a script. It gives players a common direction, a few boundaries, and enough room to improvise together. Revisit the agreement when the premise changes, when a new player joins, or when the group discovers that the story they are actually enjoying differs from the one they first pictured.