You Never Know Until You Join the Game: The Power of Collaborative Storytelling

Well, that’s what happens when you use a fire elemental to power your stove. It eventually burns down your inn!” I point out sarcastically to our paladin as we watch the remains of said inn collapse into smoldering ruins.

We’re in the Elven equivalent of San Francisco, and our fancy-ass accommodations just got burned to a crisp because of Spark the sentient Bic lighter.

“You burned down another inn!” our druid wails after they return from a side quest. Their real-life child was sick, so they couldn’t make it to the D&D (Dungeons & Dragons) session. When this happens, we just say they’re on a “side quest.” Or they have “food poisoning.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I was in no way responsible for this!” I shout back indignantly. “And those other two were bars, thank you very much.”

My D&D character, Kazmira, is constantly getting blamed for anything that turns into flambé because of her inherent flame magic. Even when someone else sets them ablaze. 

👉 Like the 2 bars in a town supporting the completely sus magic school infested with serpent people.
👉 Or when our “totally not a harpy” party member touched the super dangerous glowing magic purple crystal that possesses people.
👉 Or that ogre who just so happened to be a dragon using illusion magic.
Yep, all totally her fault. 🙄

Now, Story Quester, you may be thinking D&D… 😬 🤔?

Well, if you’ve watched like, any Stranger Things or caught a glimpse of that Dungeons & Dragons movie with Chris Pine, you have at least a vague idea of what I’m talking about.

If you’ve still got no idea what Dungeons & Dragons is, no worries. Because—another bit of honesty here—I was not someone who grew up playing D&D either. Seriously. I legit didn’t even know it was a game that existed until the mid-2000s.

So here’s the Threads version. It’s a collaborative storytelling game you play around a table with friends. You roll a collection of dice and move awesome miniature figurines on a square-grid board.

You pretend you’re on missions created by a Dungeon Master to accomplish goals like…

Saving an inn of people when the fire elemental decides to go on strike and burn it to the ground.

Some more truth. Despite having 12 years experience in musical theater  and 10 years experience in historical reenactment, I sat in the corner of our living room with headphones and worked every other week while my then-boyfriend (now husband) and our friends role-played.

For a freakin’ year!
Because I thought…
I can’t do this.
I’m not good at this.
It’s not the same as other things I’ve done before.
I did this for an entire YEAR!

But then over New Year’s—a decade or so ago—I agreed to play a completely ridiculous game called Kobolds Ate My Baby. And well… Now I’ve been role-playing every other weekend for a decade and a half because…

This thing that I thought wasn’t for me was actually kinda awesome.

Because more often than not, trying something completely outside your wheelhouse and comfort zone actually turns into an unexpected pleasure. Something you look forward to. Something you never even realized you might actually be good at.

Which makes me wonder, Story Quester. How many things do we tell ourselves we can’t do?
I can’t write a whole novel.

I can’t write in that genre.

If I wrote that, what would people think?

But would they really? Or are you just imagining the worst? Could it actually turn out kinda awesome if you gave it a shot? You’ll never know unless you give it a try, right?

Until next time, Story Quester, this is your friendly neighborhood storytelling Kat signing off.