Dungeons and Difference
My Tabletop Roleplaying Game Philosophy
I’ll be honest, most online discussions of tabletop roleplaying games make me cringe, particularly in the age of streaming and actual play podcasts. I could go on a diatribe about why that is, but in the post-Twitter era, I’m trying to be less cynical. Rather than alienating people for what I’m sure they think is fun, I’m going to offer my own positive vision for roleplaying games instead.
The Vision: Beyond Scripts and Stats
There’s a moment in every great tabletop roleplaying session when the lines between players and their fictional world blur. It might be when the party decides to negotiate with the dragon instead of fighting it, or when a failed stealth roll turns into an impromptu diplomatic crisis. These moments aren’t scripted—they emerge naturally from the intersection of player creativity and the game’s framework. This emergent storytelling lies at the heart of what makes tabletop roleplaying games unique and powerful. We hear this term a lot nowadays—emergent storytelling—but its the core of my gaming ethos.
My true vision for tabletop roleplaying games extends far beyond character sheets and dice rolls. At its core, we’re creating a space for immersive, collaborative storytelling where players genuinely explore a fictional world. This isn’t about following a predetermined path or hitting story beats in the right order. Instead, it’s about fostering an environment where every decision carries weight, where consequences feel real, and where the story unfolds organically through play.
The Dance of Player and Referee
Central to this philosophy is the relationship between players and the referee. Unlike traditional storytelling where an author guides their audience through a crafted narrative, tabletop roleplaying games thrive on the dynamic interplay between player agency and referee facilitation. The referee’s role isn’t to control the story but to present a rich, plausible world that responds authentically to player choices.
A common analogy is jazz improvisation—the referee provides the chord progression, but the players determine the melody. Their decisions, whether brilliant or misguided, shape the developing narrative. This means embracing uncertainty and allowing for mistakes. Some of the most memorable moments in roleplaying games come not from executing perfect plans but from dealing with the unexpected consequences of failed ones.
Diegetic Character Growth
Traditional RPGs often focus on mechanical advancement—better stats, new abilities, higher levels. While these have their place, true character development at my table runs deeper. A character’s growth is measured not just by numbers on a sheet but by their influence in the fiction: the allies they’ve made, the resources they’ve gathered, the factions they’ve influenced.
Consider a veteran adventurer. Their power isn’t just in their +2 sword or improved hit points—it’s in the network of loyal hirelings they can call upon, the ancient artifacts they’ve recovered, the political alliances they’ve forged. These tangible connections to the world matter more than any statistical improvement. They represent real growth and impact within the game world, grounded in narrative rather than statistics.
When Rules Meet Reality
The question of rules and resolution often dominates discussions of RPG design. Rules are essential, particularly in managing conflict and risk, but they should serve the story rather than interrupt it. Most situations can be resolved through simple discussion and consensus, with rules stepping in, serving as abstractions when significant uncertainty or risk demands it.
This extends to combat as well. Unlike many systems that treat combat as a spectacular set-piece, we view it as just another tool in the narrative toolkit. Combat should be quick, brutal, and consequential—not a mini-game that pulls players out of the story. Even character death serves a narrative purpose, moving the story forward and underscoring the reality of risk within the game world.
Don’t mistake this for supporting mechanics explicitly involving narrative—just no. I’m being positive :)
System As Framework
I view systems as a framework for play. The rules exist to support the emerging narrative, not to constrain it. They’re guidelines that help establish a common language between players and referee, ensuring fair and consistent resolution without bogging down the story in procedural details.
This approach requires trust between all participants. The referee must trust players to engage with the world honestly, while players must trust the referee to adjudicate fairly and consistently. This mutual trust allows the game to flow naturally, focusing on the developing story rather than rule interpretations. It is worth noting that I benefit from having roughly the same playgroup for the past twenty years, so that trust has been earned.
Embracing the Journey
At its heart, this philosophy of tabletop roleplaying celebrates discovery and consequence. It’s about creating spaces where players can genuinely explore, make meaningful choices, and experience authentic outcomes. The best stories emerge not from following a script but from the organic interaction between player decisions and world responses.
When we embrace this approach, every session becomes an opportunity for genuine discovery. We move away from the idea of “winning” the game and instead focus on the rich experiences that emerge through play. The referee, the players, and the system work in concert to create something unique—a story that couldn’t have been predicted at the start but feels inevitable in retrospect.
This is what makes tabletop roleplaying games special for me and my playgroup. They’re not just games, and they’re not just storytelling. They’re a unique form of collaborative creation where the journey matters as much as the destination, where mistakes are as valuable as successes, and where every choice contributes to an evolving narrative that belongs to everyone at the table.