Old-School Magic
In its half a century of existence, D&D has continually grown and expanded. For much of its life, however, it was relegated to the basements of nerds, hidden away from mainstream society. More than once, to say the least, it was slandered as devil worship during the Satanic Panic. Against all odds, it rolled a natural 20 on a persuasion check at the end of the previous decade. Thanks largely to Critical Role, the most successful actual-play D&D podcast, the game has experienced a resurgence, and a popularity streak that continues to grow exponentially.
Where I once had to profusely explain myself for playing D&D, today I can enjoy the game casually with little to no judgment—and that’s great! I’m amazed at how many kids can now learn the joy of storytelling and discover a sense of belonging in groups that go on epic adventures, just as I once did, since D&D is more accessible now.
by Dungeons & Dragons
I Cast Corporate
Wizards of the Coast—who has owned D&D since 1997—has long permitted third-party publishers (3PPs) to use the game’s system to publish their own materials without fear of copyright infringement. Their ingenious Open Gaming License (OGL) made this possible, helping both WotC and numerous indie 3PPs grow and make a lot of money, essentially. However, a couple of years ago, that very pioneering OGL became the source of the largest chasm of trust between WotC and its audience when they attempted to revert it and transform it into a draconian contract that would allow them to claim revenue and original ideas from 3PPs without giving credit.
Around the same time as fans took to the web with pitchforks and torches over the OGL controversy, a leak surfaced about an aggressive monetization plan for the new online-only edition, which caused internet havoc like a fireball cast in a closed room. Locking players into an online space with a monthly subscription is simply not cool, Wizards.
Just as Disney once stood for the magic of storytelling before morphing into a power-hungry corporate behemoth, WotC has taken the game that introduced millions to the best hobby in the world and turned it into a soulless, shiny cash grab. And it doesn’t end there—corporate greed is nothing new. It’s the “We’re now sending private security to threaten a player who opened an exclusive product too early” that shifted me from disappointment to outright disgust.
by Paizo Inc.
No Need to Roll for Initiative
What makes this already-heartbreaking situation even worse is the “TikTokization” of D&D. I’m not talking about content creators on social media; they are just passionate people sharing something they love. It’s how WotC has downsized the gameplay experience, turning D&D itself into bite-sized, easily digestible content at the expense of depth and creativity.
Since D&D’s 5th edition release in 2014, the game has been softened like a cushion that absorbs all challenges—while also casting a “feather fall” spell on players so they never land too hard, God forbid, only like a floating feather. WotC may claim they streamlined the rules to emphasize storytelling over number-crunching and introduced online tools to eliminate the “need” to dig into bulky rulebooks (scary, I know). But that approach only stifles further ingenuity and invention—that’s based on “number-crunching” mechanics.
Any actor can offer advice on how to play a character, any author can advise you on building a compelling narrative—D&D never invented those. What it did invent was a one-of-a-kind game that gave birth to a hobby cherished by millions. But once they doubled down on what made their game great, and then repeatedly breached players’ trust, WotC has become little more than a platform for other people’s ideas. I don’t need D&D rulebooks to tell me how to roleplay—I need balanced, clear rules that let me play without having to “homebrew” (creating custom rules and content) fixes for their official material. The sheer amount of homebrew content for D&D out there today is embarrassing, especially when other table-top role-playing games prove you can do it right—they just don’t have the same marketing budget.
And while I’ll try to sound less like a grumpy grandma, I’ll say it outright: Downplaying “hard” rules, favoring cushioned content, and riding on past success to lock players into a subscription-based model, has stripped away any incentive for WotC to make D&D an inventive, ingenious, or groundbreaking game ever again.
Choose Your Own Adventure
It’s important to understand that D&D isn’t the only table-top RPG option out there. There are numerous games and systems for people who want to explore new worlds. Many of them are high-fantasy adventures like D&D, but others are as different, weird, and wonderful as you can imagine. Want to play a futuristic sword warrior who partially exists in another reality? Try the odd sci‑fi game Numenera. Ever wanted to play a cop who turned into a vampire and struggles to balance parallel lives? Then give Vampire: The Masquerade a shot.
And if you crave a high-fantasy setting filled with witches, and wizards, and magical beasts, I’d wholeheartedly recommend Pathfinder. Not just because it’s the biggest competitor to D&D—I loved Pathfinder way before it was cool to hate on WotC—but because Paizo, its publisher, is taking all the right steps to cultivate a happy audience through a superb playing system and wonderful worldbuilding.
While WotC is busy turning orcs into farmers and goblins into harmless fairies, Paizo understands that depicting evil doesn’t equate to endorsing it. For example, they wrote the beautifully morally grey redemption arc of Arazni, goddess of the abused. Moreover, when the OGL controversy exploded in Wizards’ face, Paizo responded by creating the ORC (Open RPG Creative License), which essentially recreated the original OGL—partially developed by Paizo veterans who were once part of WotC.
by Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up
My frustration with WotC far outweighs my nostalgia for D&D. With other, better (in my opinion) options out there, I see no reason to spend my time and money on this power-hungry corporation.
Whether you’re a seasoned veteran at the RPG table or a level‑1 newbie who’s always wanted to play but never had the chance, I invite you to reflect on your gaming experiences—actual or potential—and consider what truly makes a gaming experience great, not just good. Sure, the people around the table are the number-one ingredient, but that holds true regardless of the system you play. Try this thought experiment on your own, or even with your gaming group. I’m not saying the results will lead you to ditch D&D; I’m saying it’s fascinating to see how these imagined stories meet us in our real lives.
I’ll finish with an anecdote—take it where you will:
My longest-played character, whom I still play, is Kai. Her full name is Kailinora Crow, but you only call her that if you want her to punch you. She’s a level-8 Aasimar Barbarian, and I’ve been playing her in a group that’s been active for most of the past eight years; we play D&D 5th edition. Now, Kai isn’t a Barbarian because she spends her days “ooga-boogaing” in the forest—she’s simply an angry teenager. She’s always been convinced she’s just a regular human, only beginning to discover her divine Aasimar abilities as the story unfolds. Kai once thought she knew everything, arrogantly dismissing the advice of her mother, teachers, and friends. All she wanted was to become a famous knight like her father. Then, during the adventure, when she discovered that her father was nothing but a lying scum, her world shattered. She’s still searching for her identity and purpose. The story continues to unfold, and I can’t wait to see what she finds—if only she dares to look outside. Both Kai and I admired something that turned out to be not worthy of our admiration. We both might never be able to fill the hole in our hearts, but at least we have each other, through the magic of role-playing games—regardless if their market value is at an all-time high.
by Esther Derksen
