Why I was scared to play D&D
Why I was scared to play D&D is an odd title for an article from Dorkadia, I know – It’s a pretty safe assumption all of us are in or planning a campaign at any given point in time. So the thought of being scared to play at the table with a bunch of friends and pretending to be a wizard and making goofy voices seems silly right? NOPE. This isn’t just about the barrier of entry into table top RPG’ing (which is a whole article in itself), but that I was scared about how to actually role play around the table.
I have had some previous experience with D&D; I played a 2nd edition game when I was in high school that was moderately successful. We all had fun, but it didn’t last for super long. After that, my nerd circles were filled with comic books, anime, and video games, and it was a good 15 years before the opportunity came around again to play. I was introduced to Jon Spengler, who wouldn’t shut up about RPG’s for about the first two years I knew him (when he wasn’t trying to mime shooting my cat like a bazooka). He ran a few one shots and started a campaign that I observed a few times, which stopped me in my tracks of feeling like I knew how to play this game.
Before you yell at me – I’m not condemning Jon! What I saw in those games was a DM who whipped in and out of silly voices, and embodied the NPC’s he portrayed. I saw players make fantastical speeches on the fly and pontificate about how to proceed. They in gory detail explained what their fireball looked like, and exactly how their sneak attack damaged the beholder. I immediately felt intimidated by my friends around the table, because I didn’t live inside the head of a character like that. I didn’t think I knew how to role play. Which, you know… feels kind of fundamental when playing a tabletop role playing game, right?
It took me a little while to think about why I was so scared to sit down at the table with these guys, who are all my friends, playing a game we all are prepared to love. How much harder would it have been if I was looking at a table of strangers, only united by the fact that they want to throw some D20’s and compare mental defense scores? I was lucky to be able to put my toes in the water in the shallow end before making a dive – but I want to tell you if you’re scared to play… don’t be. I took the leap and joined a Mouseguard game Jon was running, mostly bolstered that there were only 3 players (and I was married to one of them), so my embarrassment couldn’t go too far. I had fun! But while I was having fun, I still felt like maybe I was… doing it wrong. Maybe they were ignoring that I didn’t say in a silly voice “Go get the frog!” and instead told everyone at the table “Kahlen directs them to attack the frog” or work-shopped with the other players when we had to make a choice to be cold and angry, how my mouse would get snippy with them as we pressed on down our path. What I was doing at the table was different from the other players, and different from the DM – and it was a scary place to be.
Fast forward a year and I’m still getting comfortable with a gaming group playing 13th age and recording weekly podcasts with my DM, another DM, and my husband who is another player in our game. I made the side comment about playing 13th age on how I didn’t think I was really RP’ing correctly – and I swear there was a record scratch and the music stopped. Both DM’s looked at me like I grew horns on my head and rainbows shot out of my ears. “What do you mean, you’re not RP’ing right?” – Having to admit that I felt like I was making it up while I go, table talking and not using silly voices like everyone else was probably my most embarrassing moment at Dorkadia to date, for anyone curious.
This is probably a good approximation of what my face looked like.
What came after was my personal “You’re a wizard Harry!” moment. Just because I don’t chew on scenery all the time doesn’t mean I’m role playing wrong. I’m telling the story of my character, I’m making her actions and intentions known to the players and it’s clear what is different between Megan the player saying something and when D’Cat the evil Drow sorceress is saying something. I’ll never be the bard at the table who has a power of singing a song, where the player actually writes a song in 2 minutes and belts it out to everyone at the table, but i’m still participating – having fun, and shooting all the lightning.
When it came down to it, we were all playing the game in ways that made it fun for us around the table. I LOVE when the bard sings his songs, and when Jon squeaks like a Kobold, it leaves me in stitches. Finding a group of friends willing to spend hours at a time playing imagination games is hard enough. Know that you’re going to have fun, and however it is you want to play, you’re not doing it wrong. I’m now drafting up a new character to play and plan on slinging the D20’s without feeling like a fraud – maybe less vocal than others, but just as ready for fun adventurer at the table.
