Many Christians consider Dungeons and Dragons as a mysterious, cult-like experience to avoid at all costs. Skepticism and hate for the game remain rooted in the “satanic panic”—a period during the 1980’s when a few players became involved in violent acts against themselves and others. Given this background, D&D is considered “evil” and “demonic,” and as a result, many outsiders think the game goes like this:

“The Devil smiles at you.” the Dungeon Master says, looking each of his players right in the eye. “‘Oh, dear souls,’ coos the Devil, ‘You’re hungry for power and thirsty for blood. If you pledge yourself to me, we will take over this earth and make God rue the day he created us.’”

A heady thrust of adrenaline shoots through the players as they take each other’s hands and bridge the gap between fiction and reality. “We invite the Devil to take us over!” one player cries, “And call down forces of darkness upon this world!”

While there are fans who use the game as a conduit to “demonic forces,” the game itself requires no such pledges to the devil (or any other being). In truth, Dungeons and Dragons only seeks to stimulate the imagination for a fictional world rather than our own. I know this because I am, unapologetically, a Dungeons and Dragons player—and for almost a year, this game has remained a meaningful, creative outlet for me and my friends. In fact, there are several campaigns currently running on campus. Currently, my own party is going through a campaign called Curse of Strahd.

Every Thursday night, our “party” (a particular group of drama nerds and creative writers) embarks on the epic continuation of our quest to defeat the evil vampire, Strahd, and free the people of his oppressive rule. Of course, we haven’t battled Strahd yet. Right now, we’re gleaning information about the world Strahd’s created. Through the characters we play, our party feels both the joys and sorrows the story holds for us, as well as the dangers of greed and obsession our enemy feels.

My boyfriend got bitten by the “D&D bug” first. During his Basic Training last summer, one of his Christian friends set up a makeshift campaign for a few of their buddies. Boyfriend called me later and explained his newfound obsession: he loved the story, characters and combat involved with the game. “There are actually some emotional moments,” he said. “It’s not just about fighting monsters or finding cool artifacts.” When he returned home and began narrating (“DMing”) his own campaigns, I got involved as a member of his party, and realized he was right. Dungeons and Dragons became a refuge for creativity, and it remains so to this day.

The creator of the original Dungeons and Dragons, Gary Gygax, got the inspiration for the game because of his fascination with miniature war scenes– particularly the medieval battles. So, when he published his table-top game, he included little knights and fantasy creatures to use when the players strategize against an enemy. Nowadays, players can buy their “minis” from game shops, or buy them online. I enjoy painting these little characters and bringing a new dimension to our games, and I readily volunteered to help Boyfriend when he bought a 3D printer and started printing his vast army of humans, monsters, and everything in between. Though the past few months have been too busy to work in detail, I retain my fond, summer memories of painting my dwarf character Balazor the Derailed and listening to the How to Train Your Dragon series.

As a writer, I also enjoy creating characters for our various campaigns. Every race available to play (elf, dwarf, gnome, etc.) contains a certain set of principles based on their specific upbringing. This enriches the writing process for me; I can tap into a part of myself that might (or might not) understand these standards, and use that self-reflection as a guide for building a relatable, well-rounded character. Then, I get to play as her (or him) during D&D with friends who enjoy their own character roles. My favorite part about the game is spending time with others who love writing and acting just as much as I do:

“Is there a shovel in this graveyard?” asks Oliver (“Ollie”) Henckleton, our Bard.

“Uh, make a perception check,” Says Boyfriend, our DM.

Ollie rolls an icosahedron- a twenty-sided die we call a d20. “Fourteen.”

“There is no shovel,” Boyfriend replies. At the party’s cry of disappointment, he says, “I might have materialized one on a Nat 20, but alas.”

“What about [buried] people with money in their pockets?” asks Ollie.

“That’s the ultimate perception check: X-ray vision!” I exclaim.

“Ollie just pulls out a metal detector,” Tinley (our Rogue) jokes.

The other cleric, Jorath, starts laughing, and we all join in.

This except from our session a couple weeks ago highlights the closeness our friend group now experiences as a result of Dungeons and Dragons. Before Curse of Strahd, I hadn’t even met the players behind Ollie and Tinley. Now, through all our party has gone through together in the game, we all share a bond that is unique and wholly ours. In addition, the limited phone usage during our sessions helps us feel the raw emotion of the game without seeking a way to numb ourselves. I feel like I know each member in a way I don’t know many of my other friends, because we have seen aspects of each other we don’t always let others see. For us, Dungeons and Dragons is not about violence, or gore, or even laughter. It is about bonding with others through the cords of storytelling, and finding purpose in our own lives through the fictional world we traipse around in every Thursday night.