An Article on Constant Effort, by Philip-Gianni Gaspari

“Is that really how a Goblin-Necromancer sounds like?”This is the question that catapulted me into the experience that is Dungeons & Dragons. Over six years later, the game continues to be a constant provider – a source for some of the most unique experiences I could have as both a player & individual. None of this happened over night. Anyone who has committed to any (or multiple) sessions knows that “life” can always get in the way; I believe that in the same vein, “life” can help bring things together.

For myself, & I don’t think it’s a stretch to say many can relate: it can be tough… really tough… to get or meet like-minded folks to play with. Just finding them as you get older & have “life” responsibilities can be the hardest part. Having like-minded individuals is the hardest piece to your consistency puzzle.

Now, what do I mean about “life?”  It could be anything really; getting even just 4 individuals to coordinate times & schedules in an adult-life is difficult. There can be many conflicts between everyone’s schedule with things like birthdays, kids, family-events, work-events, an infinite amount of different commitments. Schedules & Conflitcs is another great name for D&D. Not to mention, the older you get, the tougher it can be, due to the responsibilities that come with everything mentioned above.

What do I mean regarding “consistency?” Simply put : how often can we play or run a game/session? Scheduling can be difficult, but I would argue that finding people who want to play & give the same amount of effort, care, & integrity to the experience as much as you do – that’s the hardest piece to find.

I feel lucky that it didn’t take me more than three years to find. This was after my first session ever. My first brushes with D&D was a result of my other gaming-love for Magic the Gathering. As a kid playing in the local game store during the early 2000s, there was a lot of “non-competitive” Magic being played, as wel as other games at these tables. From time to time, some of the older, or should I say, more experienced gamers would be there with many books, pencils, papers, building characters in an imaginary world, saying they would be “playing later.”

Ironically, the way D&D was presented to me seemed much more complicated than Magic the Gathering was. I was quite young, yet, considering I knew & understood Magic the Gathering fairly well, in hindsight, I’m sure I could have played my first D&D session then… but the young mind plays tricks on itself, doesn’t it?

It wasn’t until 2018, when the D&D 5th edition Guildmaster’s Guide to Ravnica was released that I took my first real plunge into D&D. Once again, it was a moment where it was adjacent to Magic; we had our usual scheduled Friday Night Magic (FNM), this day at a friends place; we were going to be 8 people for a cube-draft. Indulgence & consumption was mandatory. I got there first, right after finishing my classes for the day, & shortly after, another friend walked in – beaming with excitement. He revealed that the new D&D manual based on one of the most beloved Magic planes just released, & that he would try & see if the 8 of us were into rolling characters & running a D&D game. As the other friends began trickling in, & we each pitched into the idea, we realied we didn’t need much selling; we collectively agreed we’d forgo the draft, & play a D&D session, set on the fictional plane of Ravnica.

As we’re preparing, I realized I was the only one who hadn’t ever played before. I remember being particularly excited to the point of being a little anxious. We all started at level 1, & I insisted on being a Goblin-Necromancer (Wizard), who was named Cheez.. We had maybe too much fun just rolling characters, drinking, laughing our heads off with stupid jokes while finalizing & figuring out all the details for our characters & setting. Suddenly, it was time to begin. 

Everyone got quiet. Our friend started what we commonly refer to as “The Hook.” I should mention that this friend by trade was an entertainer; a show-man, & a good one. I mean that without exaggeration. Imagine being a fresh faced recruit, in the presence & grandeur of a true-polished veteran.

I was seated directly to his left, & the further along he went with the Hook, the more anxious I became. I was full on tripping out. I had knots in my stomach, my mind was racing. I was nearly unable to focus on the Hook. Just as my anxiety seemed to peak, the Hook ended with him motioning to me: “You walk forward to the others & introduce yourself.”

I (very modestly) said “I’m Cheez, the Goblin-Necromancer” snapping out of my anxiety-trance & getting a few low-tone chuckles from the table. The Dungeon Master was taking a swig of his beer as I spoke, then leaned over when I finished & whispered something: “Is that really how a Goblin-Necromancer sounds like?”

He had spoken smoothly, softly, & respectfully, but it was like a slap to my mind, body, & soul. In an instance my brain said  “No, that’s definitely not how a Goblin-Necromancer sounds like” & I immediately stood up out of my chair. I delivered a very Goodfellas – Joe Pesci inspired performance, & everyone else at the table cheered in unison – howling of laughter as I continued. It was a beautiful moment, & the Dungeon Master just took another swig of his beer, smiling a knowing smile, & we continued on. We were all immediately hyped & hooked.

That one moment represented everything of what D&D would be for me.

However, those three years after that amazing first session was just chasing that feeling of hype & hook. I played & DM’d a few sessions since it was necessary in order to convince my friends to play. Yet, it never became something constant or consistent. I quickly realized that this one night was just something special we enjoyed – those friends would never substitute Magic for D&D. So, for the following years, especially with quarantine hitting, all I did was research & study. This was the only way to get my fix. At the time, I managed to run a few sessions, but it was insanely difficult to develop anything consistent. The people who I tried to involve enjoyed playing, but lacked the effort & commitment.

However, in early 2021, still during the quarantine/pandemic era, I was looking into running a D&D campaign online. I thought, maybe this was an easier way to generate commitment amongst folks. By chance when mentioning it to another friend-group, they expressed interest in playing D&D, but said they never had the opportunity. To add, one of them put me in touch with their brother, who apparently had clocked in over a thousand hours in online D&D sessions; I didn’t realize how this would change everything.

The original idea was for this new-friend to show me the ropes of this program; that included character creation, building & setting up maps, monsters, music, & so on. It was really impressive – I had only played in-person up until this point, & this was all a fresh take on D&D, filled with new possibilities. It was a new lens, however, when I mentioned to this new-friend what I intended to run for this group of fresh-players, he proposed an entirely new idea; it was truly an offer I couldn’t refuse.

“Since you’ve played before, how about I DM for you guys, & you show them the ropes? We run a basic new-player campaign, you lead by example as a player, & this way, I can also teach you the functions of this platform?” It was an excellent idea, & we immediately got to work on how to tie that into the campaign with what I initially wanted to run, & who my character would be: the friend who is eventually revealed as the villain (introducing my character, Lord Bane). In the end, we would all get experience together in different ways.

This propelled into an amazing 3-year long campaign, where I coud probably write an entire book or saga by itself. Our new-players grew into serious & committed dungeoneers, & we built so much out of the world, characters, & any little thing we thought valuable. The end-game reveal of my character being the final-boss was a poetic contrast to everything we had built together. Everyone was shocked & betrayed by not just my character, but both myself & the DM. They could not believe after all this time, & everything that happened, that it had come to this.

To clarify, nothing was scripted; we did not know how things would pan out – we just knew at some point there would be a moment for the reveal. Some of my other friend-group knew I was part of a D&D campaign, & when I had explained to them how the campaign ended, while emphasizing the humble beginnings, it really resonated with a few of them. Essentially, finishing one campaign, & those who were a part of it mentioning it to their friends, spawned another two campaigns.

So, almost six years after my first session as Cheez, the Goblin-Necromancer – I finally was able to build & piece together a network of like-minded individuals, & create opportunities to spawn or partake in various D&D sessions & campaigns. I’m at the point where I am no longer “trying” to play D&D – I am now fully in control of how much I can play. I can finally generate for myself, & others, levels of hype & hook which I previously could only dream of.

Putting into words what a D&D experience is like would & could never do the feeling justice. It would be like trying to explain music, or describing how a piece of art makes you feel; listening to the song, or seeing the piece for yourself is simply more effective.

The moments & feelings evoked in D&D are tough to imitate – it’s an organic game where everyone involved collectively tells a story, in a collaborative manner. Once you look back on that story, you always feel the contrast of being humbled by how amazing it was, but also grandiose by how beautiful the effort you all put into making the story work.

Each person involved combines their imagination, sharing it with one another to create these intense, thought provoking, & sometimes emotion evoking moments. There is nothing else quite like D&D.

Of course, not everyone feels that way about D&D; some have played & it has fallen flat. To this I say, there is a guarantee that a certain amount of collective effort & vulnerability was not provided. Therefore, you couldn’t attain a “true” experience for D&D; it’s as if you said “I tried to play X game.” Truly trying means actually investing a real amount of effort.

Effort is the difference – the more you give to the game, the more you get out of the game. If everyone involved is engaged, cares, & provides effort – it’s the easiest recipe for having fun. Having fun snowballs these things into something fresh, special, & unique; that’s where true D&D is played. Those moments where something new emerges, each of you know that you all pitched in to make it happen, & that’s what the game is all about.

I write this because I am coming up on a few anniversary-like dates for some campaigns I am a part of. I feel privileged because, since I was young, I taught myself how to fit in, so I can play the games I love. Even at a young age, I always understood that “playing” means sometimes having to listen more. “Playing” means time, compromise, & dedication.  “Playing” means you have to connect with others.

I have been fortunate & blessed in being adept at always finding an good way to connect with people, & this is what allowed me to get to where I am at; not just in my hobbies, but professionally, & most importantly, in life. I had great role-models, good teachers, & met many great people throughout my time in hobbying, competitive events, & gaming. Each relationship helped me build on the next,

My message to those kids, or even those adults struggling to find ways at expanding your game, or finding those to connect with – keep up your effort. Get out there, be vulnerable, trust your instincts, you’ll be surprised how many people are willing to meet you halfway. More importantly, you’ll always impress yourself with how far you’ve come.

If I was talking to the nine year old version of myself, & I told him of my forays as Lord Bane, Ser Xorakk, Arthenius of Legion, Bahtiik, Viggo Tomaso, or Bara-lôk – he would be absolutely mesmerized by his own capabilities.

~ Philip-Gianni Gaspari