Saturday, November 15, 2008

The 'Why' of 'Dice Free'

Dungeons & Dragons was my first official roleplaying game, the red box with two red books and a funny dice set. It remains nowadays the iconic picture of the roleplaying phenomenon: a gang of geeky teenagers tossing odd dices around a paper, moving miniatures on squared maps and adding up their damage bonuses. The games we played at this time were fairly straightforward: enter the dungeon, kill the monsters, grab the loot. The characters were also either straight archetypal or totally off the map's edge, near unreal - even for imaginary characters. The fun was no lesser.

Growing up in age an maturity, the games' focus varied, became elaborated. Characters gained in depths, in equilibrium, in realism. I tried game systems and settings one after the other, went through more characters than I can shake a Wand of Wonder at. With time, my dices gathered more and more dust while my pen and paper got more and more used. The squared paper maps got replaced by my imagination, the damage bonuses by background work and so forth. Game lawyers turned to be my worst nightmares (you know, those who follow the rules by the book). That's what happens when you choose to apply the number one Golden Rule of all roleplaying and storytelling games: The first rule of all rules is to have fun. If another rule comes in the way of fun, change it or ditch it.

Ultimately, the tossing of the dices was... well... tossed aside mostly. In the games now I play, 'scrying the bones' is now only relied upon when the illusion of neutrality is paramount to keep the fun going. What makes the 'meat' of the games is how characters act, react, talk and evolve in their own imaginary universe. Characters have become more valuable than all the gold in a dragon's hoard. The fun is no bigger but it lasts way, way longer. Maybe one day I'll only need the Golden Rule, to go with my imagination.

Friday, November 14, 2008

The Oldest Game

Storytelling goes way, way back. According to anthropologists, it started with fire. Earlier men and women would gather around fire, communication and speech ensued. They told about mundane things, at first, then about feelings and further down the road, they started to share pure intellectual ideas, concepts with no physical representation. This, is invention. This, is philosophy. This, is storytelling.

In more recent times, the campfire was replaced by newspapers, radios, televisions, computers. The heap of concepts conveyed through medias is tremendous. At the same time, these concepts lack in human warmth, in humane quality, pressing us to desire for things we may or may not want or need. Families are divided, the individual is praised. Storytelling allows people to evade from life's stress and live, for a short time, in an imaginary construction.

Children do it naturally through their games. They have imaginary friends. An empty plastic cup becomes precious chinaware holding tea for the visiting royalty, Princess Barbie and King Teddy. A towel and a pin makes a boy fly like Superman. Paper planes become the theater of unique episodes of Battlestar Galactica meeting Drakemen from Draconia.

Is is but a matter of imagination, of letting go and pretend, of transforming reality. Especially when alone, it happens. Maybe your coffee thermos cup is in fact an artifact from Dimension X, with limitless powers for those who know the secret incantations? Is your mirror changing you into a pop star and suddenly, hundreds of fans worship you? Do you have erotic fantasies about the model asking you, Got Milk? These also are pieces of storytelling. Almost all of us do it, though a few dare to share.

Getting past the fear of rejection and sharing imagination with others is a magical experience that can increase the fun a thousandfold, if done right. Like in theater or movies, you are an actor and become someone else, anybody else you wish you could be. With less barriers, trust and pleasure comes naturally, allowing humane relations without the usual frictions. Petty lies become a magical lubricant.

Around the campfire, in our waking dreams, we are all part of the same legends, forever.