Writing Examples
Not My Fault:
Enchanted by Role-playing Games
Here is an example of an opinion paper which was written for a Rhetoric class at Alma College. It describes some of my experiences as an avid fan of role-playing games and the benefits I see in pursuing this hobby regardless of the stigma that is usually attached to such games.
Not My Fault:
Enchanted by Role-playing Games
by Kacie Schaeffer
Roll 2d6. Add your COR. Now add your DEX modifier and don't forget to subtract the weapon proficiency penalties from your curse. Twenty-four, you say? The evil orc crumples under the might of your blow and you are free to help yourself to his hoard of priceless gems.
To most, such a sight—a collection of teenagers holed up in a dark basement, huddled over a table and bantering unintelligibly with each other for hours on end—might be cause for concern. An avid role-player like myself, however, would feel right at home.
I don't know any better; I was seduced by the epic quests for glory as a mere child. It's not my fault; the allure of exploring floating cities and wasted ruins is too much for anybody to resist. Have you met a soul who balked at the opportunity to ride griffons and command dragons? You see, my case was hopeless from the start; I had no choice but to succumb to the worlds that opened to me everywhere I went, that called me by name. I have been bound to these fantasies ever since by a force that no sorcerer can counter and no knight, no matter how valiant, can abate: the force of my own will. I don't want to be rescued.
Once people understand this, I am met with a variety of responses ranging from enthusiastic analyses of the latest, hippest PC games to looks of incredulous horror and blatant disgust. Some ask why I don't do anything more productive with my time. Others kindly point out that such games are dangerous influences on young minds. Didn't I know kids died doing that stuff? I wince at the overgeneralized judgment that is handed to me. No, I want to cry in protest, you are misinformed! Let me tell you about the wonders that I have seen and the miracles I have witnessed! The tragedies of the Seventies were horrible and sickening; they were affronts to the hobby. No, true role-playing is one of the most worthwhile ways to spend what limited time we are given in life.
A certain magic exists in any role-playing game. The flashy lightning bolts springing forth from a character's fingertips and the conjured fire-elementals beating on armies of undead are a given, but the real magic of these games is subtle and hard to detect over short periods of time. As the leader of a longstanding group of hardcore RPers, I have had the opportunity to watch various acquaintances come to my sessions as strangers to each other and leave as the closest, most intimate friends. I marvel at this metamorphosis every time though it hardly surprises me. The characters my friends create are extensions of their adventurous selves; they mingle with each other, bash monsters together, and retrieve a few ancient relics with the support of one another's talents. Strangely enough, a fellowship begins to form out-of-game as well. The brotherhood that develops as imaginary characters come to depend on each other to survive an illusionary world of infinite danger carries over to real-world experiences. This nearly imperceptible link between imagination and reality can make role-play the most rewarding and the most frightening of experiences.
I contend that many gamers do not understand how to handle role-play responsibly and maturely. Sadly, many people use their worlds to carry out deeds that would otherwise place them in a jail cell. Others find trouble in distancing themselves from their characters—of separating fiction from truth—or try to enhance the reality of the experience by playing in dangerous areas. Game masters often enjoy wielding their massive power to destroy characters, a feat which gamers may find amusing or traumatic depending on the style of the game. Truthfully, these mentalities can be dangerous, leading to the suicides and accidental deaths that stigmatize role-play.
I try my best to steer away from these potential pitfalls. The sessions I control are interactive segments in a grand story that preaches moral values, acceptance of diverse races, responsibility for one's actions, and faith in the future. I focus heavily on the social aspect of the gatherings I host, realizing that gamers come to my sessions not only to vanquish evil and raid my (parents') refrigerator, but also to distance themselves from the irritations of life and to take their places in a warm, welcoming circle of friends. My realms are vast and my quests are fair: good deeds never go unnoticed, the wicked are justly punished, and the threat of death is but a tool to encourage the party to work cooperatively in the tasks appointed to it. I encourage characters to explore their options and revel in the freedom of my campaigns, but every action, benevolent or malicious, has a consequence. Players develop a sense of personal pride as they come to learn their importance in my fictional world, a realization that stays with them once the session is over and they must once again confront the harshness of reality. Indeed, each of my comrades leaves having grown socially, emotionally, and spiritually.
When I pause to consider the creative potential of role-playing, rebuking the claims of skeptics never seems quite so difficult afterward. No, I must continue to tell the parents who believe I am sucking young children into a demonic cult. Another side to role-playing exists, one that transforms depressed, emotionally worn adolescents into confident, caring individuals with a sense of purpose and belonging. Another side to role-playing exists where, for a few hours, a person can make up for a failed exam by saving the lives of refugees fleeing from a bloodthirsty warlord. Another side to role-playing exists in which characters are given the power to shape a fantastic world and encouraged to realize that the actions of one individual can influence the course of history. No, I maintain, role-play is an art that is natural to nearly every soul on earth. Limited only by the bounds of imagination, those who take it up casually will find themselves thoroughly addicted to the vast sense of freedom and companionship it offers.
The magic of role-playing enchanted me at an early age; I am a hopeless case, doomed to roam realms of infinite adventure with my best friends for all time.
A fate others might find enjoyable.