Generally, I don't like fantasy. I've never seen Lord of The Rings and I have no interest in doing so. Dragons and elves don't excite me. I have no interest in race and gender allegories thinly (and, in my opinion, distastefully) disguised as mythical beings and monsters of the forest. I don't want to see the damsel in distress, or the wise and noble wizard, or the gnomes in their little gnome pub drinking mead. I don't have anything against those things, it is just not for me. Personally, I feel it has been done before, and done a hundred times - the hero always wins.
So why am I obsessed with tabletop roleplay?
Let's begin. I started playing Dungeons and Dragons about a year and a half ago, because of two things. One, my partner. Two, Griffin McElroy. I'm sorry, love, but Griffin McElroy has to come first in this story.
My first toe-dip into the world of Dungeons and Dragons came when my dear friend Becca recommended the comedy 'actual play' podcast The Adventure Zone. Actual play is a form of podcasting or streaming in which the members of the party play the game in real-time, with real dice rolls, for the enjoyment of people other than the party. Simply, they play and we watch or listen.
The Adventure Zone is an actual play podcast run by the McElroy family, consisting of father Clint and the three brothers - Griffin, Travis, and Justin McElroy. It is the funniest thing I have ever listened to. At the time, I was going through a difficult period at work. I was working on a project that seemed endless and required a lot of focus and energy, so I listened whilst doing that. Often, I would have to cover my mouth to hold in the laughter. I'm must have looked absurd to my colleagues. So, what is it actually about? What makes it so deeply enjoyable?
The Adventure Zone is the story of three mismatched outcasts - a celebrity chef elf wizard, a quirky sometimes-youth-pastor cleric, and the impulsive but cuddly fighter-rogue. The story starts quite simply: there is an artifact that requires recovering, and they fight some bad guys along the way. But what really draws you in with this podcast is the laughter. For example, in one of the climactic battle scenes against 'Magic Brian', Taako the wizard casts a spell with the cry of "Abraca-FUCK YOU!"
It is at that point that I believe the podcast becomes something more than a simple dragons-and-wizards fantasy story. It's about ridiculous characters developing over time, and how the story becomes so much more than even the McElroys envisioned. The story is always at the mercy of bad decisions and bad dice rolls, of which there are many. And in that sense, it feels organic and 'real'. Just as real life, the best intentions can come crashing down with one 'critical failure'. To risk a spoiler for the first arc 'Here There Be Gerblins', it is so refreshing that the hero doesn't always win. Sometimes the hero has to endure too much, they have to lose something, and they have to suffer. There are so many genuinely moving moments of this podcast as you become invested in the story. It feels real because the result of the rolls are. You can't undo a bad roll. You know that your favorite character could die, permanently. The stakes are high and real, but that only makes the potential for impact so much greater. This podcast had an enormous impact on me. Personally, it is one of the greatest stories I have ever heard.
So naturally, I wanted to play.
My partner had been playing Dungeons and Dragons sporadically in the time we were initially dating. He had an interest in it, but never committed to a full campaign (a sustained adventure over multiple sessions) or delved much deeper than 'one-shots', or one-off stories with a concrete ending.
My first game was a one-shot, just for me. I didn't want to commit to playing a full session until I knew it wasn't really nerdy and uncool. My partner crafted a world especially for me, tailored to my interests - an alternate Victorian London in the midst of their industrial revolution. There were railway trains, factories of workers who needed liberating, and a theatre putting on a hit opera. Best of all? I played a cat with a sword! I was like a kid in a candy store. Ima the tabaxi bard was my first character, and in true Dungeons and Dragons player form, was an extension of myself. Their name was inspired by own, only in reverse. I was playing as my favourite character, and made them behave in the manner I would. Their characteristics were heightened versions of my own. It was a self-insert adventure, where it dawned on me - I can do anything in this game, with these dice and my imagination. All I needed to have a few hours of thrilling escapism and an adventure I could be involved in was a set of dice. Suffice to say, that after liberating the factory-workers and establishing a workers union, catching the opera with the fantasy-Queer-Eye boys, and generally saving the day: I was hooked.
So, I pestered my partner to play more. At the time, I am not ashamed to admit I was pretty lonely. I was going through a sizable personal shift, with many of my friends still at university or off establishing their own lives, and was beginning to forge new friendships with a fantastic bunch I met through my partner. He suggested we had them all over and played a campaign. So, I had to make a new character. I felt bold, here. I had played as myself, and knew there was a certain enjoyment in seeing what I would do when faced with a monster and a puzzle to solve. This time, I wanted to see what fresh narrative I could help craft with a new character, one I could grow and develop as the story went in.
I introduced our group to Elfred, an elephantine cleric of the grave. Thinking how elephants are prone to mourning their lost companions, I created an elephant-like character who's religion aligned with death. It sounds morbid, but it comes with some really great skills and traits like stabilizing dying creatures, sensing the undead, and later raising the dead completely! It's all very spooky and grim, and for anyone who knows me, the absolute opposite of what I am usually like.
One of the great joys about playing tabletop roleplaying games is that you are doing something you never would. I can be male or female. I can be strong or fiercely intelligent. I can cast spells or master a host of weapons. I can do anything, and the blunt truth of it is that I can't do these things in real life. At least, can't do all of them. How brilliant is it when you are playing your favourite video games to press 'X' and cast a spell that incapacitates everyone around you? Or when you hold R2 on the controller, and use your sword to bring justice? Dungeons and Dragons is, in many ways, just the same, except with dice. I can declare, "I cast prestidigitation!" in a world where there are no limits to what I can do. There are endless possibilities, far more than I can imagine for my pale, sadly human form.
Many people have even used D&D to explore their own identity, to trial how it might feel to be male, female, or non-binary through their character. Imagine how liberating it must be to people who in their daily life might be too shy to speak to a friend but is bravely able to charm their way out of a skirmish in-game. Or, a disabled player who can imagine the mightiest of adventures. Imagine yourself, in lockdown, being able to imagine being anywhere, doing anything. Is that not the tiniest bit exciting?
From there, I also created Jessie the strong-but-stupid Bugbear, and Suzie the secretive koala with a thirst for vengeance. There might be a theme developing here, with all these animals... I have loved playing DND and a range of different 'indie' tabletop games among friends, at my local tabletop roleplaying group at Chaos City Comics St Albans, and have even designed my own Jane Austen inspired game! The possibilities are endless and I simply have the time of my life when playing. It's a group game, with such a core community that has connected me with some incredibly funny, talented, and kind people - I always look forward to our games together and wish I had time to play more!
Still, the fact looms: it can go so horribly wrong. Dice rolls usually work on a scale. You have 'modifiers' from your character's skills which may increase your chance of success, but it largely comes down to how your dice is behaving. Your goal, at all times, is a 'nat-twenty' or the naturally highest roll of '20' on the dice. This is a complete success, and your character can achieve what you intended them to do, with no repercussions. However, a roll of a 1 is a 'critical failure', and as the name suggests is not the most ideal scenario. In this case, it is up to the 'Dungeon Master' or 'Game Master' (most don't wear capes and hats, but it certainly brings a little extra ambiance if they do!) to decide what consequence you must face. In an ordinary scenario, perhaps if you were rolling to see if you knew what had happened in a certain ominous place or where searching for footprints and clues, the outcome may be fairly harmless but less than optimal. When my partner is DM-ing, his go-to failure is "you shart." It's happened to the best of us.
But imagine if the stakes were higher. Imagine if it was your character; who you hand-crafted from the bubbling cauldron of your imagination, who has survived lord only knows what hell until this point, and who is in a life-or-death stand-off with their foe. Your health is down dangerously low, and your healer friend is preoccupied elsewhere, fighting their own fight. Perhaps you teeter precariously on the edge of a cliff, and this is it. This is your chance to cast the perfect spell to reverse all the damage that has been done or to draw your weapon and seek revenge for all you have lost. You and your friends shift on the edge of your seats, as you shake the dice in your trembling, anxious hands. This is it.
There is no denying the fates as the dice finally lays still on the table: a cold, sharp '1' reveals itself like a blade that holds your destiny. It's a critical failure. It is ultimately out of your hands, now, and the DM may decide your fate. Perhaps you lose your footing and slip off the edge of the cliff. Perhaps your attack misses, shooting clear out the way. In one game, the fallout for my critical failure meant that my character's Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde-style secret murderous identity was divulged and it created a new challenge for my character to overcome which eventually lead to a personal exorcism of the darkness inside them! These rolls are important, they have ramifications.
It is that sheer unpredictability that is so appealing about Dungeons and Dragons. I can play literally whoever I want to be and I can escape into a world that feels so organically formed, with joyous surprises and unwanted moments of genuine fear. It is not your standard Lord Of The Rings-Lite, it is an entirely immersive game that plays out in your own gloriously technicolor imagination. It is a game that you can win, heroically and in a blaze of glory - or lose, gracefully with a character who has been by your side from the start. It is all at the mercy of your dice.