Once again, this is meant to admonish gently, which is why there is humor and silly language. The salty language is because I am incorrigible.
Comment as you will.
Gather round oh my children and sit ye down 'pon the floor that I may beginneth thy second lesson. For surely as the last lesson's topic concerned the proprieties of playing in a game, so shall this lesson's topic counsell those who wish to take up the enormous burden of command - the mantle of Game Liege.
A righteous and correct Game Liege taketh up not the mantle of God-hood, for this angers the Gods and they shall visit such a knave with boils and the dropsy. Furthermore doth the Gods punish Game Lieges who pretend to be them by setting the group upon him to argue ceaselessly with his decrees, each and the other in turn until the Gamer Liege requireth Tylenol, Whiskey and hoochie mammas to sooth his fevered brow.
Yea verily 'tis better by far that the Gamer Liege taketh up the mantle of Prophet - that he standeth like Moses with the Ten Commandments, such that when his gamers starteth to hassle him, lo can he utter thusly "Hey, guys, come on, it isn't me eh? It's the book that says that y'know...I mean *snort-giggle* those guys are just crazy...when will they ever learn.." and thus and such. This stoppeth most arguments yea verily.
Just as it is proper for the player to owneth his own tomes of tourney, so also should the Game Liege, for truly 'tis difficult to surpriseth thy players when thou must ask "Hey Joe, can you lend me your third Monster Manual for a while? You know, the one with the God-smashing Dragons of Pain and Hemmorhoids in it?"
Knoweth thy players. This is a truism without peer, for lo 'tis a foolish Game liege who putteth the player whose only desire in a game is to spill blood beside the gamer who wisheth politics and machinations. Worse yet, let shame falleth a hundredfold upon a Game Liege who sticketh two people together at the table who hateth each other's guts outside of game for surely at best this is the road to ruin in game, and at worst thy living room shalt becommeth like unto a boxing ring, complete with busted teeth, furniture and wailing.
The righteous and correct Game Liege knoweth that he is neither assassin nor competitor. 'Tis not his appointment under the eyes of Heaven to see-eth just how fast he may slaughter a party to the last crying child, nor shouldst he judge his own worth according to how much wailing and gnashing of teeth occurs as he conducts Tourney. Let him openeth up the mighty Tome that Lord Webster hath penned and seek him the definition of the word 'fun'. The wise Game Liege notes that neither the word 'pain' nor the word 'frustration' exist within that definition. Neither should they be at Tourney.
Confuseth not Deathtrap with Challenge. 'Tis a facile confusion, but 'twill drive players from thy Tourneys as though thy home art plagued.
'Tis righeous and correct that thy NPC's be manifold and that many be powerful, but they shouldst not all be so. Confuseth not importance with focus. Though thy 6th Generation Vampire Prince be the most storied and hallowed Kindred in all the city, he shall be cursed in game and out shouldst his appearance always herald a long spell in which thy players can taketh no action in Tourney. Thy game must focus on the players. Let them glimpse power and greatness, yea verily let them often stand before it or be affected by it, but let them not be pushed off to one side by it.
The righteous and correct Game Liege WORKETH HIS ASS OFF to fashion a tourney fit for the heavens. For every hour of Tourney, the Game Liege should expendeth at least 1/2 hour at toil. For surely as the brown bean maketh a man a windstorm, the Game Liege can save himself ten minutes of work DURING Tourney for every 1 minute he spendeth working upon it outside. Fear not the strain of toil nor the sweat upon thy brow - 'tis good for thee. 'Tis a Knave and a Braggart who doth swagger about the bawn - his nuts clicking together - procaiming is prowess "at running completely unscripted and off the cuff". In the world of mine ancestors didst dwell such efficionados and in this world do they dwell once in a few thousand leagues but thou canst bet thy sweet bippy those who caterwaul their skills in such bravado haveth them not. See to thy toils and thine efforts shall bring rewards beyond mention.
Though 'tis correct to be vexxed when a player at thy Tourney art absent (and to be vexxed moreso shouldst their absences multiply) the wise Game Liege knoweth never to piss nor moan at such travails. If he hath discharged his duties as befits one of his station, then the players who art absent are so only with good cause - and he shouldst shite not upon such matters. If many of his players art absent from Tourney then perhaps 'tis time to go into meditation and penitence for surely thou art lacking somehow. Absent players doth by their very absence point fingers at a guilt not readily seen.
Betimes thou shalt find among thy players an eater-of-feces who showeth up to the game whenst-ever the fuck he feeleth like and at whatever time doth tickle his pickle. Take him by his nape and with great wroth and invection CAST HIS PUNK ASS OUT and let him be thought of no further!! Also, let such a creatures' name be forever struck from the roles of honorable gaming for evermore.
Let any Game Liege who getteth out his jollies by forcing characters in game to be raped or molested be shamed and let his name be known far and wide as a Son of a Scabrous Whore-Dog. Such things are not to be trifled with and such persons who would do this are never to hold the trust of a game-group again. Enduring a rape or molestation in game does not toughen anyone up or provide ANY tangible benefits - period.
Some things are not for Tourney.
The righteous and correct Game Liege should never fear to use art and music to move his players at Tourney. One picture is worth a thousand words and a correctly chosen set of musics for a scene sharpeneth the senses and setteth the scene more tightly. The Game-Liege shouldst make free with his pimp-slaps and ass-hoofings unto those who allow their twinkie-ramps to flap whilst such a scene art being set.
Though music doth set the scene and make all things wonderful, the Game Liege shouldst avoid simply opening up his MP3 playlist and running it from start to finish during Tourney. This can make the gathering seem more a party than Tourney and if said Game Liege wisheth to maintain the mood of a scene nothing shalt rip it further apart than the wrong piece of music. Players who art locked in combat most perillous with the Great Evil Lich Andostorous (who art known for skinning babies alive, sodomizing horses and parking in handicapped zones without a sticker) may not render the scene the gravitas it deserves if they are forced to fight whilst Aqua's Barbie Girl doth play. Similarly, it may be difficult for two young and innocent lovers to bond when Trent Reznor bawls out "I wanna fuck ya like an animal!!!". UB-40's Red Red Wine may not be the best accompaniment to characters visiting a Nunnery and so forth.
Now my sweet ones, here endeth the lesson. Go forth and spread the Corradan Doctrine. Take it to those who have it not, for by fuck they sorely need it.