Three of the Biggest Things I’ve Learned to Become a Better LARPer – Part 2

Compassion: The Secret Roleplay Superpower

If integrity keeps the game fair, compassion keeps it fun. This is the lesson about being decent to each other, both in-character and out. LARP is a community, and at its best, it feels like a big, weird family. At its worst, well… as mentioned, it can have its share of problematic individuals. The difference often comes down to how we treat our fellow players. I’ve heard about both extremes: players who act toxic and standoffish, and players who, from day one, treat you like a long-lost friend. A great example is that one amazing player. Many newcomers have stories of meeting someone just like them at a game they were attending solo. Within an hour, this kind of person is sharing snacks, watching your back in fights, and hyping up a newbie character’s every small victory as if they’d slain a dragon. They didn’t know the person they just met, but they made them (and every newcomer) feel genuinely welcome. Players like this remind us why this hobby can be so amazing, instant camaraderie, generosity, and zero ego. We could all use more players like them.

On the flip side, we all know the “Other Guy”: the one who sneers at noobs, or the veteran who refuses to roleplay with anyone outside their clique. I’ve heard accounts of players trying to interact in-character with an experienced player, only to have them roll their eyes and mutter “Ugh, fine, whatever” out-of-character. Talk about a buzzkill. Another time, I heard a story about a group literally turning their backs on a new player who was trying to join a quest, because they didn’t think he was “cool” enough. That kind of elitist behavior drives people away faster than a critical hit to the face. It also totally breaks immersion, nothing yanks you out of a fantasy faster than realizing someone’s out-of-character attitude is that of a bully or a diva.

Here’s a raw truth: LARP, like any social activity, can attract some challenging personalities. People sometimes use “it’s what my character would do” as an excuse to act like jerks or to be exclusionary. But there’s a clear line between playing an in-character villain and being an out-of-character jerk. Many players have had to learn that distinction. I’ll admit, I’ve gotten carried away before, a bit too aggressive in combat or too harsh in a negotiation scene, and later realized I might have made someone uncomfortable. These days, if players portray an evil or unfriendly character, they often check in with fellow players afterward, or give a quick out-of-character wink during the scene to signal “hey, player-to-player, we’re cool.” A little compassion like that goes a long way in making sure everyone is having fun and nobody feels actually attacked or unwanted.

One of the biggest ways compassion shows up in LARP is how communities handle newcomers and mistakes. Newbies will mess up rules, and veteran players will occasionally swing too hard or forget a spell effect, we’re all human. You can respond by yelling and shaming, or you can be understanding and help them learn. I vividly remember hearing about a new player’s first event: they were overwhelmed and accidentally called a skill they didn’t actually have (whoops!). The local “asshole contingent” was reportedly ready to crucify them for it, complaining loudly that they were cheating. But then a player, a legend, stepped in. He gently explained the rules the new player got wrong, in character, and even worked it into the story as if the character was “mistaken about his abilities.” Everyone had a laugh, and that kindness was never forgotten. From then on, many players try to pay it forward. When someone forgets a rule or gets upset out-of-character because they’re lost or anxious, they remember their own shaky start and try to be the helpful voice they needed back then. Most LARP groups are reportedly extremely welcoming, going out of their way to help new players. I’ve been lucky to hear about many communities where folks create a safe, inclusive space for anyone willing to play. They give “newbie speeches” at the start of games, loan gear, and make sure nobody eats alone at dinner. Little things, but they truly matter.

Compassion also means reading the room and taking care of each other. We deal with intense themes and physical activities; people can get hurt or triggered. I’ve seen tough-looking warriors drop character because they got hurt for real, or because a scene stirred up some personal trauma. Those moments reveal the true heart of a LARP community: Does everyone pause to help, to make sure the person is okay? Or do they ignore it and carry on? I’m proud to say that in many circles, they pause. They put a hand on the shoulder and ask, “Are you alright?” They fetch water or an ice pack. They reassure them it’s okay to take a break. One time, a heated Player-vs-Player duel reportedly got out of hand, and one player started actually crying when it was over, the fight had gotten too personal. The other duelist immediately dropped to one knee, took off his boffer helmet, and apologized sincerely, hugging the guy (with consent of course) in front of everyone. It was a beautiful moment of human empathy overtaking the game, and it defused what could have become a bitter feud. As a marshal or just as a fellow player, many would rather stop the entire adventure for five minutes to show compassion than push on and have someone silently suffering.

Ultimately, we’re all just nerds in a field playing pretend. Sure, we play mighty heroes or wicked rogues, but off-script, we need to have each other’s backs. The real world is hard enough; when we escape to fantasy, it should feel like a welcoming refuge, not like high school all over again. Many players strive to be the kind of LARPer who says “Good fight!” even when they lose, who invites the loner by the fire into their conversation, who thanks the game runners and the NPCs every chance they get. As the saying goes, the people are always more important than the game. If you treat your fellow LARPers with respect and kindness, you’ll earn a reputation as someone everyone wants on their team, in character and out. Plus, it just makes the hobby so much better. When players reflect on their favorite LARP memories, it’s often not the win or the sweet loot they scored, it’s the friends they made and the times someone’s kindness caught them by surprise. Compassion is truly an unsung hero of LARP skills, and it’s one that can be developed indefinitely.

Continued in Part 3: “Helping Others: Play Your Part, But Don’t Be a Pawn”, so keep an eyeball out in the next few days!

Tenze

Tenze the Path is a faun, a news-chaser, and probably the most dedicated field correspondent in LARP. People know him as The Furry Fury, and honestly, he’s kind of impossible to miss. Whether he’s darting through battlefields, picking up tavern gossip, or chasing down the next scandal, he always seems to be right where the action is. Just look for the faun in the ridiculous furry pants. When he’s not knee-deep in a LARP (which, let’s be real, isn’t often), he’s writing stories packed with firsthand drama, wild retellings, and just enough flair to keep things interesting.
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