The Delicious Freedom of D&D

Duncan Cox
5 min readNov 8, 2019

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A screenshot from “Critical Role”, D&D’s most famous podcast/show

One of my most cherished hobbies is Dungeons & Dragons. As a quick rundown, Dungeons & Dragons, colloquially known as D&D, is a fantasy role-playing game in which a group of people, called a “party”, navigate the world created by a “Dungeon Master” (DM). The party each role-plays their own character. Characters can be as simple and grounded as a town guardsman with exceptional skill at the spear (Human Fighter), or as high-fantasy as a cursed, horned descendant of demons with the ability to alter the very fabric of reality through magic (Tiefling Wizard). Throughout gameplay sessions that usually last 3–4 hours (but can go indefinitely), players explore the dungeon master’s world, fighting monsters, making friends, uncovering plots and “saving the day”.

I started playing about 5 years ago while studying abroad in Osaka. A fellow American hooked me into a group, where he took us on a whirlwind tour of Pathfinder.

For those of you not familiar with D&D lingo, Pathfinder is one of the editions of D&D. Since the game’s genesis years ago, various parties have released new editions for the game, with wildly different time frames in between. Some editions tweak and change the previous version. Other editions overhaul everything. The current state of D&D is 5E (“E” being short for “edition”).

Pathfinder, also known as 3.5E, is by far the whackiest edition. It allows for ultimate freedom, has the most insane and cumbersome details, and feels like what would happen if a bunch of middle school boys created a role-playing game. To provide a little context, my character, named Dumbo, was a human turned into a literal elephant by a curse. Dumbo specialized in unarmed combat (Elephant Fighter). He was thousands of pounds, could lift the entire party at the same time, and had about 4 times the strength and constitution of any other player. Oh, and important to mention: I couldn’t talk.

For a month or so, I communicated with the other players solely through hand signals and trumpets. If I had any questions for our DM, he made me private message him. It got us into tons of hilarious scenarios caused by miscommunication, and usually ended with my elephant smashing a wall.

When I gained a level, everything changed.

In D&D, players usually start out as Level 1. At this level, players choose a “class”. It’s essentially a profession based on a character’s background and experiences. A man who worships a god might be a Cleric, a skilled archer and woodsman might be a Ranger, and a person given magical abilities via demon possession might be a Warlock.

An interesting wrinkle in character creation occurs upon level up. When you gain a level, you can choose which class your level goes toward. Most often, people will choose the level of their original class, as the best benefits usually happen the higher level your class is. An example, a Level 3 Barbarian is going to be much stronger than someone with 1 level Wizard, 1 level Fighter, 1 level Paladin.

Since Dumbo had been acted upon by dark forces to be transformed into an Elephant, taking a level of Warlock would make sense from a role-playing perspective. From a *player* perspective, Warlocks in Pathfinder have a very useful ability: they get a familiar, a magical creature from another realm who acts as a companion and can telepathically communicate with their master. One familiar option is a raven. And in the D&D universe, ravens can mimic human speech . . . so . . .

I obtained a raven familiar named Derek, who I would communicate telepathically to. Derek would then “speak” on behalf of Dumbo, acting in the 3rd person. Through ingenuity and the freedom of choice D&D provides, I was no longer locked into trumpeting and gesturing at my fellow players. I could finally talk!

Freedom

This is a long way of demonstrating the absolute freedom that D&D lends its players. I can do anything I want. I can construct an identity for myself from the bottom up, and pretend to live in an alternate world. Moreover, it’s not bound by constraints like video games are. The limits of D&D are your imagination. You can do literally whatever you want, without real-world consequences (except maybe your fellow party members getting a bit peeved at you). See something you like in-game? Your character can steal it, or barter for it, or kill someone to grab it. Bored with the city you’re in and the quest you’re doing? You can convince your party to leave and do something totally different. In the middle of a fight with a horrifying ancient dragon? You can seduce it with music and sweet nothings. Or, more properly (and ominously), as our glorious DM often says: “You can try”.

It’s a risk-free way to exercise ultimate freedom of choice, to experiment with new ideas, and sink into another identity for a few hours.

I know asexual people who have role-played as non-ace characters, just to see what it’s like. I’ve known people to role-play as gender non-conforming characters, sinking into an identity that’s different than they present to enhance their own understanding. I myself once role-played a 6’5” woman who never took off her armor or helmet, lending the impression that she was a man. Having to remember the values of the character I was playing and experience the context of someone hiding their true self (for 8 months!) was a beautiful thing. My next character is a 300-year-old dwarf blacksmith and doting grandpa. I hope my journey with him is equally as fulfilling.

A New Educational Tool

I’ll close with a thought: D&D has amazing potential in education. Imagine D&D parties of 4–5 young children. Each one has a character they must create and cherish. They have opportunities to engage in problem-solving with each other, experience a new identity, and experiment with being in a way that can’t hurt themselves or others. A mentor or teacher can act as the DM, supervising the experience and guiding the kids to new opportunities that flex their growing social and emotional skills. Most importantly, this valuable educational experience could be FUN. It could be hilarious, riveting, and inspiring for children, especially for those who don’t have much control or freedom in their own lives.

I believe that D&D and other similar role-playing games have the potential to be a leading social and emotional learning tool. Fellow role-players and education enthusiasts alike, let’s give it a shot!

Thanks for the read! If you have any thoughts or questions, feel free to comment, or send me an email!

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Duncan Cox

D&D enthusiast & part-time vegan // Community Director at Learning Economy // Contributing Editor at Diplomatic Courier