“That’s his son?! Is there enough time to stop my sword?” my sister said in a panic. “Of course, but now the Gnoll father and his son see you land in front of them with your sword held high. The father jumps back, and pulls his son behind him. What do you do?”.
My sister assumed everything that looked like a monster was a monster in this game until this very moment. She was playing a Lawful Good Paladin. And she had sworn to the king to clear the monsters who live in this forest. Now things have gotten a bit more complicated… But this is what she wanted
A little over a decade ago, I discovered Pathfinder. I was sitting by my desk listening to random podcasts on YouTube while I was drafting a house for one of my clients. I heard laughter and a voice saying “How deep is the well?” and what followed can only be described as the best comedy improv I have ever heard. But what were they doing?
Sorry, fancy mansion design, you will have to wait.
As I climbed into this rabbit hole that was my introduction to the complex and fun world of TTRPG’s, I discovered my imagination again. A muscle that had not moved in ways beyond architectural design, maybe since I was a boy.
“I like his beard” said a young boy to the most mischievous of his uncles, as he was admiring a poster from the 80’s of a wizard. The wizard was holding a crystal ball, and I can still image his beard flowing in the wind as the power of the item before him was activated. My uncle is about 16 years older than I am. He is silly, fun and full of creative ideas, but I can’t help but wonder if I am the way I am because of the same reason he is the way he is… Enough mystery, let me colour in your imagination.
I grew up, much like my uncle, on a farm in Namibia under a vast starry sky. And on this farm we were told an abundance of stories. How could there not be stories here, where a gum tree stood nearly 100m (200 ft approx.) covering us under it’s cool shade, where the wind blows strongly through it’s leaves in a way that sounds like applause?
My grandfather told us stories of gnomes that lived in cities underground, and trolls that guard the entrance to the underground, somewhere in the shadowy valley where snakes liked to live. Our imaginations were rich, and we spent our days playing pretend. When did we loose our talent to imagine?
When did we decide to substitute our rich inner world with phones and social media? I thought to myself as I threw my chair back, standing up tall with drive. The sort of drive that you can only really know if you’ve experienced obsession or madness. I stormed out my home office and marched into my sisters room.
My sister, of course being the most creative person I had ever met, for she has studied every art expression under the sun. She was painting a portrait of someone in vibrant colours of green, orange, pink and yellow, as I Waltzed in with the sole intention of interruption.
“Do you want to play a game?” Of course I knew she couldn’t resist the temptation of fun – she grew up digging her toes into the river sand, just as I did. “What sort of game?” she inquired with eyes so blue and a face so very covered in paint.
We played a story with no end. A story of pretend. We took breaks to do “important” things but we kept playing for days on end. Before I knew it I had built a world for her. Then her friends wanted to play along. Then my friend also wanted to play. Then strangers started asking me to play. And then I organised an event with other Game Master, and the requests to play never really ended.
And so my inner world only grew richer.
This is my oath to my players. An oath to excellence.
I am on your side, my dear players. But the monsters are not. That is why I must make this oath so you may better understand my intentions.
As your Game Master it is important that I guide you as you navigate through the story and the rules of the game. I must provide you with challenges so you may overcome them. I must surprise you with twists and scenarios so you may be curious about your story.
I am not only responsible, for being the arbiter between you, the other players and the world you play pretend in, but I am also here to ensure that you may get along with your fellow tablemates. I do this through the use of safety tools, expectation setting and fostering a safe play environment where we may all feel welcome without worry, because we all will know that we are trusted and respected. This will allow us to create collaboratively, and share excitement for the game.
I will always strive to interpret and uphold the rules fairly. I will never misuse the rules for the sole purpose to “win” against players, for I believe that I only win when we all are having fun at the table. I make my rulings to preserve fairness, pacing, clarity and in fact the integrity of the game itself. I believe that the rules are there to support the experience, not suffocate it, and I will maintain this in our games.
I will celebrate you in your creativity, your engagement, and your courage to take risks. I may challenge your created characters in honest ways, because I believe that triumph means little without the dangers, uncertainty, or consequence you had to overcome to obtain it. I will not protect these characters from failures in cases where the dice have decided and failure will serve their story best. But I will never seek to act cruelly, and my intentions will remain virtuous.
The experience does not stop at the table, because I care about the person beyond your pretend character. I may check in with you privately to make sure that the experience is what you had hoped it would be. The people at my table matter, you matter, and I want you to feel comfortable enough to tell me what’s on your mind.
I will protect you, from bad players. Players who behave in ways that are harmful, disruptive, hostile, and unhealthy for the table dynamics. I am not a timid man, and I will confront individuals when the situation calls for it. I do this through the use of warnings, conversations, and if all else is a loss, I will remove individuals from the table if it is necessary. I will do this for you because I have a responsibility towards you to maintain a healthy environment.
I’ve got your back,.
Because I believe tabletop role-playing games are at their best when we feel seen, fairly challenged, respected, and free to lose ourselves in worlds of wonder alongside others who care just as deeply about our journey.
And so I make you this promise: I will strive to be fair. I will root for your victories when I send monsters your way. I will celebrate with you when you overcome them. I will mourn with you when you fail I will respect your boundaries. I will prepare well for sessions.
And together, we will tell unforgettable stories.
This is my oath to you.