I’ve been an active GameMaster (or DungeonMaster, for those Dungeons & Dragons players) since I was fifteen years old. That translates to twenty years of campaign-writing, map-building, dungeon-crafting, and trap-setting. I’ve written more stories for gamers than I ever have for my novel-writing, and with two novels (not published) and four more in the works, that is saying something substantial.
I’ve had to deal with subversive players. Truly rebellious players who saw my attempts at giving challenges within a world as a means of just making me frustrated. I’ve been challenged for my views on worlds, my means of writing consequences, and even whether or not a village could handle a single magical item being sold.
I’ve left my gaming table with migraines. I’ve been drawn into shouting matches with my players over fine points and rules-lawyering. I’ve had to quit an entire campaign because one player decided they wanted to take the party so far away from the main storyline that they created an entire pantheon of gods as a result.
But for all the frustration and pain, I absolutely love it.
For all that I am a writer and that I hope to be published, I love being an actual storyteller. This is highly ironic, given that I’m also extremely introverted and shy about speaking in front of crowds. I have a fierce passion for explaining scenarios, for trying new voices as independent people, for giving emotional investment to a given situation. I want my players to become part of the story, not just characters in a momentary chapter.
I personally hate just giving my players challenges. I get it, the challenges are there to give them a numerical sense of scale. But really? Can I dive into Why the black dragon is harassing the nearby city? Can I give the players context? Can I explain to them what the consequences of their actions are? I believe that doing so makes for better characters, and ultimately better players.
For this to work, however, I must tell my players that “I’m running a long campaign and I want to have fun, too”. No, I’m not here to just kill the characters. If my players show the same investment, I’m right there with them. If the dice don’t kill them, they’re welcome to ask the questions and see the world I’ve created for them.
My greatest moments, in my opinion, are when I get to let loose and just tell the party what happens. They tell me what they want to do, they roll for it, and then it’s MY TIME.
I love being a storyteller. For all that I hate crowds, if given the chance to tell a story, I will tell it to anyone willing to listen. Even if my own social batteries are nearly empty from interacting, I will always step up where I can. It’s a personal reward when, while explaining a scene or running through a monologue, I see the audience riveted by the story.
When this occurs, I feel a connection to my spiritual ancestor of storytelling: Homer.
I am personally of the mind that Homer, as an individual, did not exist. I’ve always thought of him as multiple people, each using the name as a title for their level of storytelling. While I’m not of that caliber and never will be, I love getting to tell an epic story and seeing an audience be invested.