The Second Person
Not a lot of stories use the second person singular perspective. Fewer use the second person plural. But this is the primary perspective of dungeon-delving modules, Chtulhian investigations, and space-faring adventures.
Few adventures within Dungeon Magazine's comes with boxtext, and most of this boxtext comes at the start in a block of a dozen paragraphs, spread across multiple pages. Here's one such introduction:
As you enter through the large doors, you are suddenly confronted by a massive, 8'-tall humanoid with long yellow fangs protruding from his upper jaw. He stares down at you with great black eyes and empty white pupils. After an empty silence, during which thoughts of or drawing your sword have crossed your mind a dozen times or more, he suddenly breaks into a wide grin and begins to chuckle deeply.
- Dungeon Magazine, Issue 4, Page 44
This presents some 'facts' about the 'you'.
- You have a sword.
- You think about drawing it for violence when someone looks inhuman.
- You do not respond to a strange-looking person with 'hello', but silence.
Perhaps this boxtext oversteps its duties by telling people how they feel about someone with tusks. Perhaps it helps situate the players in the world's mindset, reminding them that prejudice exists, and they cannot help their thoughts. The fact that it focusses on what they think so much, rather than their reactions to their own prejudices might excuse it as a necessary violation of the standard limits of boxtext.
The next also comes at the start of a module:
Your band of weary adventurers has stopped at Vynald, a small town to the south of a long stretch of mountains. The town's only inn - Nevvar's Inn and Tavern - is small but cheery. You are sampling an afternoon dinner brandy when Nevvar, the mayor of the town as well as the proprietor of the inn, sits down at your table. He is a middle-aged elf dressed in green and silver. Earlier in the day, he looked cheerful and merry - but, as he speaks to you, his face reflects a strange mixture of embarrassment and fear.
- Dungeon Magazine, Issue 5, Page 39
This continues for 5 more paragraphs, about the same size. It's a big speech! And it says a lot about you.
- You care about what this elf thinks.
- You decided to buy dinner (you will not use existing rations).
- You drink brandy.
These dungeon introductions seemed ridiculously long until I noticed they only came at the beginning. Perhaps they got people into the mind-set. I have a feint memory of actually tackling these things, of actually reading the full thing at the start in a timid, stuttering voice, cross-legged on the floor, with masses of ragged binders that look like they were stolen from a skip.
Keeping teenager's attention isn't easily, especially when you are also a teenager. If you can get through the introduction without interruption, it certainly sets the expectation for attention, and what's required of the party.
Our next boxtext comes mid-adventure.
As you approach the top of the pyramid, you can see through the nest's intertwined branches. Once creature, with the shaggy head of a lion and the gold body of a dragon, likes sleeping on a large pile of silver and gold coins.
- Dungeon Magazine, Issue 7, Page 22
This one is much shorter. It has nothing but perspective, much like the passage in any book. But unlike a book, the perspective isn't hidden. It doesn't sound like a fact which actually comes from looking. It points that perspective clearly at someone.
Back to introduction boxtext, we have an absolute belter here, introducing a module where each player has a character from one of the 'evil races' - an orc, ogre, goblin, and were-rat.
Each of you is a servant of Gronk, the local orc chieftain. Having fallen into his disfavour for various acts of mayhem or incompetence, you were summoned before the great Gronk and given a map to the old temple, with the command to search it out and return with a gold and ivory drinking horn known to be somewhere within its confines.
None of you were too happy to leave the security of the camp, especially after learning of your intended destination. Local rumour has it that the temple is haunted, and a high level ranger is known to live in the area. And so, once once you were out of sight of the camp, you briefly debated lying low for a few days then returning with a good story, as Gronk frequently forgets about orders issued when he's angry. Unfortunately, the few times Gronk's memory has been sharp have spelled disastrous consequences for those who failed to accomplish their assigned tasks. Reluctantly, you embarked on your great journey.
- Dungeon Magazine, Issue 10, Page 24
This time the boxtext insists upon being second person plural, as it mentions the various crimes the group has committed in the most general sense.
Takeaway Notes
You can't help but notice that this language occurs throughout every game, and about how fundamental second-person language is to RPGs, on all levels. You feel a deep connection to this bizarre mode of storytelling, but at the same time feel a gnawing irritation with the cunt telling you who you are, and how you feel. 'Who does this idiot think he is?', you say, almost out-loud, with knotted eyebrows. 'Stop pretending you know me', you conclude as you close the article.