Dancing with Dungeon Masters // Priya Sridhar

As part of our guest-edited month, “D&D and Creativity,” Priya Sridhar has shared a piece discussing her good and bad encounters with Dungeon Masters.

Playing with other people in an RPG is a lot like engaging in a tango. A tango only works when you decide if you’re going to lead or your partner does. You have to cede control to complete the dance. WhatI’ve learned is that when you collaborate with someone, you want to know what kind of dancer they are. Otherwise, it can colour the experience. You may come away with excited feelings or sour ones.

The First Dungeon Master

I hadn’t played much Dungeons& Dragons.Last year, friends started inviting me to campaigns. One had a game run through a chat group. “Sure, why not?” I said. “I’ve always wanted to try it.” I researched the races/classes online and based my character on Jim Lake Jr. from Troll hunters. The group pinged us ahead of time to know when sessions would beheld.

I soon found out that the Dungeon Master for this game was anti-immigrant and racist. As an Indian person and the child of immigrants, I greatly disagreed with their stances. Between games, we started getting into serious arguments. I tried to point out that they were sharing the same views as fascists. They tried to pull the old “I’m from this country so you don’t get to lecture me on it!” excuse. Did these arguments have anything to do with the campaign? Not really. They happened in the general Discord chat. Sometimes the Dungeon Master sent me direct messages. I made it clear to them that I wasn’t going to back down on my stances. I refused to tolerate such statements in a space that I considered safe and an escape from reality.

The last straw came when they asked for our opinions on Vikings—the campaign happened to have a lot of Vikings. I explained that I liked them because, for the time period, they were progressive.

“Actually, they weren’t,” the Dungeon Master said. “Their values were not that great.”

I cited how divorce was legal, rapists were punished, and the laws were fairly egalitarian.

“Yes, for free women,” they responded. “But for thrall? Rape all you want. In fact, it was Christianity that wiped out the practice in the Norse. As more converted, the practice of thralldom was largely abandoned.”

Excuse me? Had they not read US history where slaveowners used the Bible to justify owning human beings? Well, maybe not, since they wereEuropean, but still! I rage-quit the conversation. I later told them off for asking for my opinion only to disparage it. They didn’t really apologize.

A gap formed between us. I’d coldly give them neutral feedback on their stories and inquire about their life. I started losing interest but didn’t want to quit the game. The story was interesting.Eventually, the game imploded when two players had a giant argument and killed the session.

When you collaborate with someone, you want to show that you respect them and their time. This Dungeon Master was not respecting either outside of the sessions. When the game fizzled out, I felt relieved.

The Second Dungeon Master

That first Dungeon Master told great stories but was unaware of the hurtful remarks they made outside of the game. As a result, part of me was leery about finding out who people really were when they broke character. I still wanted to try long after that game fizzled out. A lot of my friends are into D&D, and it felt like I should give the RPG a sporting chance, as both a writer and a nerd.

I met a second Dungeon Master named Joe. Joe is a fantastic writer who went through a vast number of D&D modules. He was sympathetic when I told him about the experience. “This cannot stand,” he said.

He arranged a quick game online with me and two other players. Keeping it simple, he had us make up stories about how other characters were to blame for our mishaps. We spent an hour making up dramatic stories that involved extortion, robbery, and bar fights. It was good fun, and I was giggling by the end of it. He promised that if we wanted, we could resume the next week.

I appreciate that this Dungeon Master changed my perspective on the game. He showed that new worlds emerge at the drop of the virtual dice. I savoured the narrative and my fellow writers’ creativity in making up lurid misadventures and talking about politics in this strange world. Being able to laugh while role-playing with others was a delightful change.

Standing Together As A Group

My previous view was that role-playing is a dance. Be willing to tango with the other person and decide who takes the lead. As a result, if you have a rather aggressive tango partner, you find yourself spinning and tripping over heels. Then you would want to get proper dance lessons with someone who won’t let you fall. I don’t hold that view anymore. Instead, I believe that D&D goes beyond the dance floor.

NowI see that D&D is more like improvisational comedy. The Dungeon Master provides the prompt, and we have to deliver all the lines. Ideally, we strike to find loopholes to go out beyond the obstacles. Then we either die, or the Dungeon Master gives us an out.

The difference with comedy is that when you fall, the floor is much softer. You are more likely to dance on a hard floor and you may twist something if your partner drops you. There are blankets and cushions. You’re wearing sneakers instead of heels. You’re just with your friends trying to have an adventure and make each other laugh.

You also aren’t alone when doing comedy as part of a group. More people have to keep the story moving, and a pleasant experience depends on whether other people will have your back. If they do, then you know they’re a great group of friends.

A good Dungeon Master is supposed to make you feel safe. They’re not supposed to act like the world revolves around them or their biased viewpoints. Instead, they will act as the person pulling the prompts out of a pile of index cards and reciting them for the group. No one leads uniformly.

The racist Dungeon Master and I haven’t spoken in months. But, I’m looking forward to another session with Joe. Let’s switch from an intense tango to have some fun and joke about whose fault it was that we all ended up in prison.

Priya Sridhar is a writer living in the United States. Her work has been featured on Medium, Book Riot and Alban Lake. Her piece “No Charisma for Joss Whedon” was featured in the We Told You fanzine by Women Write About Comics. You can find out more about her at www.priyajsridhar.com

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