Recently, my ancient love of table-top RPGs has reawakened, ravenous and insatiable like some fire-eyed dragon rousing from a thousand-year slumber. Like a lot of kids with a love of math, lots of time indoors, a penchant for assigning systems to describe even the most mundane tasks, and a deep and abiding need for power fantasies, I gravitated toward roleplaying games. I rarely played them, however. While the internet was around, most people (including myself) had not yet learned to use it for its most powerful application: connecting shut-ins with bizarrely specific and unpopular hobbies with similarly afflicted fellow-travelers. On top of that, there were virtually no kids in my neighborhood who were (a) my age and (b) bad at sports. Therefore, most of my experience with the RPGs of the day would go something like this:
1. First, I would by pure chance happen to see a sourcebook on the shelves of my local suburban mall's solitary bookstore, usually misplaced next to the crossword anthologies and Hoyle's rules compendia.
2. If the cover had something that was of interest to me (robots, monsters, superheroes, dragons, barbarians), I would flip through the book to determine whether the system contained therein struck the right balance between simulational accuracy and ease of play.
3. Assuming it did, I would purchase said book, devour its contents in my room over the course of the next 72 hours, attempt to generate a few characters--almost always rip-offs of the X-Men, whether or not the system was meant for such a setting--and quickly become frustrated with the entire endeavor.
More than anything, it was a lack of support that doomed my abortive forays into roleplaying. So I wasn't, back in the day, what you would call an "avid gamer," but I always harbored a general fascination with the *idea* of RPGs. At the base of it, I liked the idea of adopting the role of protagonist and narrator in the same story. But tabletop RPGs are poor activities for producing solo entertainment. My fantasy time (read: the portion of the day in which I was awake) was more easily consumed by an unhealthy mix of comic books, video games, and repeated viewings of The Rocketeer.
My... not "love," let's call it "acquaintanceship," with RPGs lasted until junior high, when I discovered that playing the guitar and drawing pictures was not only more fulfilling, but socially condoned, as well. Over the next decade or so, I played in a handful of regular games, almost always for extremely brief periods of time, the bug never took hold. It wasn't until law school that I was both secure enough in my own geekiness and surrounded by enough fellow geeks to get "back" into tabletop RPGs again.
Since that time, I've resumed my previous relationship with RPGs, learning many more systems than I even have time to play. At the same time, I've started playing again, both as a GM and a roleplayer. What I've come to find is that the normal way of playing doesn't actually scratch the story itch the way I had imagined it would way back in my pre-teen years.
In most RPGs, the storytelling is collaborative only in that other people control the narrator's protagonists (the PCs). The narrator (or "DM" in RPG parlance) of course retains control of some characters, such as allies, enemies, and the environment, but these characters are never the "stars" of the show--or, to be more specific, they shouldn't be; when an NPC becomes the primary protagonist of the game's narrative, it is almost universally (and rightfully) reviled by players. On the other hand, being a player carries the illusion of agency, but it's an unavoidable fact that the PCs are simply rats in a maze designed by the Dungeon Master.
So, where before I was looking for a system that would facilitate my starring in my own narrative, I now find myself looking for systems that offer the opportunity to engage in collaborative storytelling, world-building, and character creation. Over the next few days, I'll discuss some of the lessons I've learned, such as whether such a thing is truly possible, how different rules systems can hinder or enable it, and why we should care so damn much.
