I’ve always sought to recruit new players to roleplaying games. My
earliest efforts included drafting neighborhood kids, though
eventually I happened upon a few like-minded friends who occasionally
gathered for games. (Alas, I discovered Dungeons & Dragons
at the tail end of junior high school, which, for a brief time,
sponsored a D&D club before overly concerned parents shut
it down). Although I discovered several kids on my high school bus
route played D&D, none really wanted anything to do with
an overly enthusiastic freshman. I can imagine many gamers in the
early to mid 1980s tried finding other players, balancing the social
stigma against the potential reward of expanding their player base,
all with the cloud of the anti-D&D hysteria looming
overhead. In those days my blind enthusiasm drove my clumsy efforts
to find and lure new recruits to the adventure gaming hobby. But by
the time I got to college I started more consciously to consider
strategies to involve people in my (admittedly limited) social
circles in gaming.
[And here my memory and reality cease to coincide. For the life of
me, as I comb through my archived Dragon Magazines from that
period, I cannot find a single ad for DragonRaid. I know I saw
them somewhere, because the artwork and ad copy inspired me. Where I
saw them I cannot recall.]
The ads for DragonRaid featured intricate color artwork merged
with inspiring scripture and the promise of heroic fantasy
roleplaying action with a Christian theme. I certainly didn’t take
slogans like “Christians! Learn how to fight at the gates of hell!”
seriously, but I found the convergence of roleplaying games and faith
intriguing. Certainly something like this might appeal to my
Christian Fellowship friends, merging their faith with my interest in
adventure gaming. From all the advertising I thought DragonRaid
was the key to my early efforts. But I never found it in hobby stores
at the time, nor did I pony up the seemingly princely sum of $35 to
mail order a copy. I never proposed gaming with my Christian
Fellowship buddies.
It was just as well.
During one summer break I discovered West End Games’ Star Wars:
The Roleplaying Game. When I saw the rulebook and sourcebook at
the local Waldenbooks I just grabbed them and put them on my “for
college expenses only” credit card. I spent that summer immersing
myself in the game and playing it with my hometown gaming friends (a
small, geeky group that steadily grew over my high school and college
years). To me this was the ideal recruitment game with
approachable, intuitive mechanics balanced and an engaging theme (two
factors I’ve discussed before). Those two books offered everything
I needed to “sell” the game to my gaming and non-gaming friends:
a solitaire tutorial adventure demonstrating the mechanics; an
intuitive and basic core game mechanic; quick character creation
centered on “templates” of stereotypical cliches from the Star
Wars universe; and a familiar setting most everyone (at least of
my generation) remembered as a fond part of their childhood, all
reinforced with images from the movies. While my earliest adventures
didn’t quite go so well (someone fumbled a thermal detonator in
Tatooine Manhunt...), the game helped me hone my gamemastering
skills. I finally found a few people in my dorm junior year at
college interested in trying something new and I ran a scenario or
two of Star Wars. One of the players belonged to the
InterVarsity Christian Fellowship with me. Although I didn’t really
recruit any new, longterm gamers to the hobby, the effort offered
some roleplaying diversion from the stress of my collegiate studies.
[I’ll put in a good word for another great roleplaying game to
introduce newcomers to the adventure gaming hobby: Prince Valiant:
The Storytelling Game. I’m reminded of its prominence in my
hometown gaming sessions by the Kickstarter-funded re-issue of the
game in hardcover, full-color format along with a book of all-new
scenarios with similar high production values. I discussed my
experiences with the game in an earlier blog post. Alas, I obtained
the game late in my college years and never tried running it for my
academic classmates. I did manage to host it for friends in my
hometown, particularly those who didn’t game but had gamers in
their social circles and wanted to find out what all the fuss was
about. The easy, intuitive mechanics and the familiar Arthurian
setting with its legendary, chivalric trappings helped everyone
immerse themselves in the game.]
In retrospect my trying to run DragonRaid – had I the
patience to wade through multiple booklets and a host of charts –
would probably have opened a theological schism in my college
Christian Fellowship group between those who felt it was appropriate
and those who saw in it the evils of roleplaying games despite the
evangelical Christian approach. I recently acquired a copy of
DragonRaid and, while enjoying it for its nostalgia value (and
a piece of my “what if?” collection of early games), I realized
it was far too complex and overwhelming to serve as a gateway product
to roleplaying games, even for Christians. It was an admirable
product attempting to combine Christian elements with roleplaying
games to satisfy gamers and non-gamers alike, but the complexity of
its game mechanics overwhelmed any newcomers to the adventure gaming
hobby, no matter how strong their faith. The original game remains
available online (with a CD instead of the cassette tape); the
website seems to indicate a new edition is in the works to perpetuate
the game’s mission of serious discipleship through roleplaying game
play.
I haven’t embarked on any roleplaying game recruitment crusades
lately despite an arsenal of games well-suited for introducing new
players. A year or two ago we attempted some roleplaying sessions
with my young son, the Little Guy. We started out with Hero Kids,
what I have come to see is among the more ideal introductions to
traditional fantasy roleplaying games without the trendy storytelling
mechanics in vogue these days. With his occasional interest in Star
Wars (primarily the Clone Wars series and Rebels)
we ran a few sessions of West End’s Star Wars Roleplaying Game,
but his interest waned and our calendar filled up with other
activities. A new game store recently opened in a nearby town. I’m
considering posting a flyer and seeing players for a classic Star
Wars roleplaying game session...but that effort’s primarily
preaching to the choir.
