ROLE-PLAY OR ROLL DICE

by Andrew Trauger

I cannot count the number of times I’ve sat down with a small group of guys when we’ve almost immediately come to odds about the style of play we’re going to use for the evening.  It seems no matter how much one of us wants to become engrossed in his character, there’s another who is constantly asking, “Are we knee-deep in blood yet?”.  I wonder why this is, and why it often turns an otherwise productive evening of gaming into a struggle for supremacy over the tone.

Of course, you’d think the DM would have the final say over whether we role-play a barroom scene or hack-n-slash the whole bunch of them.  He doesn’t entirely, and that’s both the beauty and the problem with role-playing games.  Well obviously, if he wanted to exercise that kind of control, he is perfectly able.  The bartender could simply shrug off any attempts at conversation and draw a sword, beginning four hours of hit point-laden melee.  But on the other hand, that same bartender could simply shrug off the five warriors who just sliced to ribbons all his patrons.  In one sense, how the action flows is completely in the hands of the DM, but if he’s leading the group by the nose, either he’s not very good, or his group has no imagination.

My experience has been mixed, thankfully.  Some guys I know would be completely happy doing nothing but rolling dice, collecting their treasure and experience points, healing up and seeking out the next hapless set of victims.  All in the name of gaining levels as fast as possible…and power, and mind-blowingly cool magic items, and piles of gold…and god-like power.  But if those guys aren’t available for the game, the scene is generally more relaxed, and I find I actually get to know my character a bit.  I have the chance to flesh him out somewhat.  If it were up to me, and a few others I know, we would spend all night playacting, kicked back in the chair with a Michelob, and really meshing with this brick-dumb fighter I just rolled up.  But usually there is plenty of time for both.  We have a good DM who can blend the seemingly opposing styles of play into a single one-size-fits-all gaming experience.  Most of the time he mixes good measures of both action and setting, and most of us players go home pleased that way.  Some guys are so driven by the need for Schwarzenegger-like action that they will call the evening a total loss if they haven’t personally killed half a dozen giants, 35 orcs, 18 trolls, and at least one mega-demon.  And their character’s character suffers for it.  He surely may rise to tenth level after only three nights’ play, but he has absolutely no personality, or at best is just like the last PC the guy played—dull.  And that one was a wizard.

These guys do entirely too little role-playing.  Their PCs have no conversations with the NPCs, they never develop any friendships with the other characters, and the PC sounds exactly like the player (when he does talk).  It’s these missing nuances that make an ordinary blood-and-guts campaign truly memorable.  It’s when the puny rogue dies and his party takes a day off to bury him in a solemn ceremony, or when PCs fall in love—that’s when the game develops into something unique.  I couldn’t imagine many groups taking the time to act out a burial, or spending the energy working out a romance.  It’s too slow, there are no experience points to be gained, and who cared about the bloody rogue anyway?

However, if the game were nothing but weddings and funerals, it would be a crummy, worthless game.  Not only would the guys leave in disgust, but they might also feel like taking a shower when they got home to wash off the queerness.  If the campaign were devoted entirely to character development, it would play out much like a soap opera, and that’s just a waste of good beer.  Combat is unavoidable to D&D; indeed, it is central to the whole awards system, for XPs are based largely on how many things you killed and how strong they were when living.  So, killing off the nasties is necessary for the game to exist.

But, I believe that a role-playing game should consist of just that: role-playing.  If all you want to do is roll dice and determine a random outcome, altered only by a few strategic decisions, then go play the video game version (or Monopoly).  Those characters are little more than powerful pixels in the end.  A good player in D&D spends some time with his character and strives to produce a personality for the PC that is separate from his own.  The best players are the ones who talk as if they were the fellow on the character sheet, and only talk when they are the fellow on the sheet.  They use accents, they get wild looks in their eyes, they walk around the room to demonstrate an action, and they generate more than a set of stats and bonuses.  In short, they generate memories!

The best characters are not the ones with straight-18 ability scores and four billion hit points.  The best characters are the ones who limp, eat a lot, or sound like they have sand in their throat.  They take time to talk.  They learn something about the other characters without assuming that because the DM had them bump into each other that they are therefore instant friends.  They have a history, a family, a trade or profession, a quirky something, hopes, dreams, past failures, and a love interest.  They are not a list of numbers in a vacuum, nor computer game heroes minus the 21" screen.  They are as close to believably real as we the players can make them.

Is role-playing then opposed to rolling dice?  Do we have to decide whether to roll dice or role-play?  No, the two go together like the two sides of a gold piece.  But remember that it’s called a role-playing game, not a dice-rolling game.