Uncommon Catalysts
Uncommon Catalysts: On the Nature of First Things

Uncommon Catalysts: On the Nature of First Things

Metaphor Publications is pleased to present Uncommon Catalysts a series of guest articles sourced in the rich, yeasty intersection between fantasy fiction and role playing games (RPG, or  RPG's). Irregularly, we'll be reaching out to irregular writers and gamers and getting their irregular perspectives on how fantasy/speculative fiction and RPG's compare, contrast, overlap - and lead to new ways to enjoy both.

We're kicking things off with Brian Casey, Editor-in-Chief for The Mad Adventurers' Society, a place online to find a lot of good advice and highly entertaining podcasts about RPG's. He was gracious enough to agree to be the first penguin off the ice floe for this gig. Good luck, man. *boot* Watch out for the orca.

fantasy fiction role playing games
Deep in the Dungeons of Despair, below the Castle of Pain, the heroes confront the evil mage and his minions. This is it, the point of the whole crusade; the entire quest ends in the moment of the mage's demise. Will our heroes succeed? Or will they fail and plunge the world into a thousand years of darkness?

A fantasy story well-told takes its reader on a journey just as important, and just as significant, as any character's story in the book. Part of the attraction of a good story is getting to put yourself in the hero’s place and asking yourself, "what would I do if I were fighting this monster, or bearing this ring, or just living in this jungle?"

Modern fantasy writing owes its roots to an Oxford professor who, late in his career, published a series of books about something called hobbits and what they did with a ring that one of them found in a deep, dark, wet, hole. It's not a lot to start a literary revolution with, but it did. Since Tolkien wrote The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, the fantasy genre has been redefined. It took a few years, but it happened. After Tolkien, it's impossible to go back to the way things were before. They just don't measure up. Previous efforts are no longer good enough.

And the funny thing is, it's not just a literary genre that got that treatment thanks to Tolkien. Waiting, just off to one side, was a whole other group. They were looking for something to revitalize their favorite experience. These people were equally concerned with the movements of small figures across a vast world filled with peril and the very real chance of never making it home in time for dinner. And, like Tolkien, they felt a distinct need to enhance their cultural touchstones with some modern myth in order to give them something substantial to grab hold of and share as a common experience.

These were gamers, people with names like Gygax and Arneson. They'd been military miniature enthusiasts, reenacting the battles of Napoleon, or ancient Rome, or the American Civil War and it was all well and good, but something was missing. There was no space to tell the sorts of stories these gamers wanted to tell, the kinds of stories that involved less real world enemies, and instead included the occasional dragon to fight, or princess to rescue. Possibly both. And sometimes, they needed to rescue a prince, too.

In any case, they had this yearning for a different sort of game. Their inspiration for the elements they wanted to incorporate and the kinds of stories they really needed to leave the historical battlefield to tell, came from the wave of modern fantasy writing that came about because of Tolkien and those who came after. Not long after that change, the Gygaxes and Arnesons of the world began drawing from the ancient myths of Greece and Rome, the Vikings, and the Easts both near and far. They began going on adventures inspired by these stories, old and new, and writing things down and really getting down to the business of telling stories themselves. After that, it was a short step or two before they were sharing this amazing new game, this role-playing game called Dungeons and Dragons, with the world at large. The next thing you knew, you couldn't play games the same way any more than you could continue writing fantasy in the old ways after Tolkien. There was a whole new genre of gaming in play, one that promised more interaction, involvement, and fun than you had a right to expect.

It wasn't long after that that others started making role-playing games and telling their stories about their adventures. And writing them down. Sharing them, too. That's when the fantasy fiction genre changed again. Suddenly, anyone with a line on a sufficiently interesting evil mage - possibly with some minions, an agenda for world domination, a shop set up in a dungeon deep below a castle, and a penchant to become a quest for crusading heroes - could try their hand at writing. And folks were willing to partake. People wanted to read about other characters like their own at the game table, and maybe critique how they were doing. Again, putting themselves in the heavily-armored boots of those they read about. What people want to read, others want to publish. It's an undeniably attractive proposition.

Now, you can hardly breathe for all the scarred boy wizards, savage barbarian warriors, lands powered by ancient mystical artifacts, far away galaxies with glowing swords, strange beasts, arcane secrets, and worlds built on the backs of any number of sea-going reptiles. Each and every one of these feeds both their literary and game spaces. They build on each other and keep growing - constantly growing - in scope and range. And both the games and the books are improved by the association.

Now, there's no reason you can't read your favorite fantasy story, close the book, and have adventures of your own in the very same world. Maybe you're the evil mage. It's possible. It's your story.

Pesky heroes.


Brian Casey is Editor in Chief at The Mad Adventurers Society (www.madadventurers.com) where the goal is to have "An Adventure on Every Table." He is also a freelance writer and editor, one time game store owner, cab driver, residential treatment counselor, and has shown other evidence of horrible life choices. You can check his progress @Fiddleback on Twitter.

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