Why I RISE

Even if you come late to the game, like I did, it's well worth your time!

How did I first RISE? Reluctantly. I was never a gamer, but for whatever reason many of my buddies were. I ignored that aspect of their lives as an unfortunate character flaw, like putting Sriracha sauce on cereal or taking up professional clogging.* But, eventually, although I was sanctimonious in my certainty that scooting tiny figures over a big map in a make-believe world was likely to be a huge waste of otherwise productive time, I got lonely being the odd man out on Friday nights when all my friends were cavorting with dice and decided it could be time to RISE.

Why is RISE enjoyable? Imagine reading a good book, with a few twists: it’s being written as it’s being read, and it’s being written by you and a few of your friends. You can’t cheat and peek at the end, and you get to act the book out as you go. Unlike writing a book, you don’t share full responsibility, you don’t face the tyranny of the blank page, and you can’t linger during the composition process. At the end of a session, there is a breathless sense of wonder and sometimes horror at what you have wrought, and then the celebration of surviving and bestowal of experience points—most writers don’t get that much validation so quickly, and only the greatest of books yield such satisfaction to its readers.

The immersive nature of RISE, when your whole group buys in and your GM is well-planned, but also sensitive to his role as a conduit through which a group experience happens, slows the ticker-tape of daily anxieties for me; grocery lists, people to whom I owe emails, whether today could be the day I finally exercise effectively, whether I’ll ever master the lute in real life… all that goes away, because in this life I play the lute splendidly, email doesn’t exist, and my to-do list only includes things my character wants to do. I’m also socializing—really!— and learning more about each of my player-friends and indeed, about human nature, as I see good buddies make crucial decisions and suffer consequences accordingly. RISE, with its emphasis on character’s choices having direct in-game effects, invites conflicts of ethics and opportunities, and it’s fun to see friends navigate them twice-over, as players and as their characters. Many a night after a RISE session we remain at the table to hash over shocking turns of events and how we handled them. All the intrigue of real life (and much more) without —real— consequences…what’s not to like?

A game of RISE is kind of like one glass of very good wine— both seem to engender fellowship and warmth and lead you to get caught up in the moment, carried away in the jubilation or desperation of the situation… but like wine drunk with a close group of friends where the stakes are low and you know you will come out unscathed and heavily entertained at the end of the night.

RISE has been, for me, a consistent source of joy, both in the immediacy of play and in the reflections thereafter. RISE allows me to play, to get silly and creative and frolic and mock dragons and actually make use of my capacious knowledge of early modern period trivia, to spend time on something that is seemingly not immediately applicable to my CV or usual metrics of productivity; this is possible because I see the value it brings in my life. Practically speaking, RISE has called forth some skills like mathematics and memory that had dulled, since you must keep track of your character facts and perform basic math on command. Philosophically, RISE has granted me a front-row seat to tons of moral and ethical dilemmas. RISE provides a creative outlet that enriches my outside projects. It grants me a stage for my innate hamminess. Most of all, RISE deepens my friendships with and understanding of the folks with whom I play.

So, reader, RISE—embrace the opportunity to play, and if your results are anything like mine, you will feel elevated by the experience, and know that, like reading a great book or having a glass of wine with friends, it was time well spent.

*I jest. Clogging is awesome. I have, in fact, clogged with a buddy who went on to be one of my staunchest RISE companions. I don’t, however, recommend Sriracha on cereal.