How Tabletop Role-Playing Games got me Through 2020

I miss making up stories onstage. Sure, like the rest of the global improv community in 2020, I now do shows via video chat, but the gigs I am part of usually feature montages of disparate scenes. We often explore the same universe, but we are rarely telling one tale.

While it may be a while before I’m doing narrative improv in person again, I have found a medium that sates my need to devise adventures with friends: tabletop role-playing games.

Much like the improvised quests I devise with The Parentheticals, games like Dungeons & Dragons are focused on collectively creating a story that follow the same characters throughout. Everyone involved becomes emotionally invested in the party’s journey. You wince at their pain and punch the air when they are victorious. It is exhilarating.

I cannot wait to get back onstage, but until it is safe to do so, I am very content with participating in what are essentially private performances. Each campaign is a story shared with only five to eight people. Some groups livestream their game or turn sessions into podcasts, but part of the appeal for me is that no one else can fully appreciate the world in our heads.

To explain what happened during these sessions is akin to telling someone your dream. The significance of events is lost of them. You cannot adequately convey how exciting it is to defeat a fictitious foe. In-jokes are never going to be as funny when explained to someone.

Given the improv background of my fellow players, there is a giddy silly energy to proceedings whenever we play. There are lots of comedy bits and tangents. Introducing an audience however could make us self-conscious. The Observer Effect would kick in.

These sessions have helped me become far more comfortable telling a joke for one person than trying to please an entire room. I still miss the thrill of whipping up a crowd, instinctively feeling when to ride a laugh, but I think I may emerge from this time at home as a less needy performer. I don’t want to be a SUPERSTAR. I am satisfied just making my pals laugh.

That said, I do enjoy how RPGs allow me to do some acting without the rigmarole of pursuing it as a career. The roles I give myself are never ones I would be up for in auditions. No one would look at my boyish chubby cheeks and floppy fringe, then cast me as a po-faced bureaucrat nearing retirement (which is exactly the part I created for a Monster of the Week campaign). You can play characters outside of your age, gender identity, and, if you want, species. As these games take place inside your mind, the only limit is your imagination.

Playing the same person each week makes me feel like I am part of a long-running serialized drama. I have the luxury of being able to settle into a role. Just as in an improv scene, I can gradually feel out which choices instinctively seem wrong. I can adapt and drop quirks until I have a rounded character whose choices are completely different to mine. Brendan thinks running into danger would be a terrible idea. My grumpy monster hunter however…

Admittedly, at times, the line between myself and my creations can be blurred. For instance, in one campaign, I am playing a boy saddened that circumstances beyond his control mean it is not safe for him to go home and see his family. Mostly though, it is a joy to turn up each week and know whatever happens will be fun.

After all, the most obvious benefit of playing these games in these times is escapism. For a few hours, we have a chance to temporarily forget the ongoing numerous crises and instead focus on something fantastical. Don’t think about rent – we have an orc to slay.

I will now stress, for the sake of my parents, that I do also think about how to pay rent.

Right now, in the real world, we are not encouraged to travel. In our imagined adventures however, we can go all over the map, traverse many lands. We ride horses, sail boats, and trek across fields. We hunt vampires and haggle for potions. We can actually hang out in a pub! And all from the comfort of our respective homes.

Holding these sessions virtually is so convenient. Playing together in the Before Times required coordinating half a dozen schedules to find the one Saturday afternoon a month in which we can all travel to the same house. Now we play weekly.

It is a delight to “meet up” so often. Before the lockdown in March, I was already part of one campaign. I now play in three. In this year alone, I have played seventy sessions of TTRPGs. To put that into perspective, in 2019, I played a total of twelve.

The games are such a great way to bond. They are the happy medium between a free-flowing jokey chat of a check-in with mates and the structured fun of a quiz (although both of these have been part of my lockdown too). I finish each week with two consecutive nights of games and always leave them wanting more.

When we can go to each other's houses again, all the campaigns I am in will continue and most, if not all, will stay online due to people living in different cities. Tabletop role-playing games are a major part of my schedule now and I like it that way. They form part of a balanced diet of hobbies alongside improv and making podcasts.

I love having these games in my diary. They have kept me sane. They made sure I’m still exercising my storytelling muscles. They gave me something to look forward to. In other words, they are exactly what I needed to help me cope with my time at home.

The Games that Got me Through 2020

Dungeons and Dragons (various authors. Currently published by Wizards of the Coast)

I am playing two campaigns. One is taken from a book (Curse of Strahd. I’m a big fan of this as I love all things spooky). The other is an incredibly inventive homebrew adventure devised by my sister.

Monster of the Week (original guidebook is by Michael Sands)

Your group is a team of monster hunters trying to figure out which supernatural threat is causing chaos this week. Basically, it’s your chance to roleplay as Buffy and the Scoobies/Mulder and Scully/Sam and Dean.

Goat Crashers (one-shot by Grant Howitt)

A one-page game in which you are all goats trying to fit in at a party.