Three of the Biggest Things I’ve Learned to Become a Better LARPer – Part 3

Helping Others: Play Your Part, But Don’t Be a Pawn

The final big lesson is about service and boundaries. LARPing isn’t a solo sport; it’s a group effort, and sometimes a downright community project. Being willing to help others, whether that’s volunteering as an NPC, helping set up camp, or lending your sewing skills for costume repairs can enrich the game for everyone. Many players discover that stepping up and pitching in is one of the best ways to grow in the hobby. But (and it’s a big but) they also learn you have to balance helpfulness with self-respect, because not everyone will respect it for you.

Let’s start with the good. Many players genuinely love helping behind the scenes. Early on, they discover the joy of NPC shifts, taking a break from playing their character to put on a silly mask and be a quest monster or a hapless town guard for a few hours. It feels great to contribute to the story and see the game from the other side. Volunteering as an NPC is often how games survive; they rely on players to donate time and energy to keep the adventure running. Many LARPs even offer small rewards for it, extra XP, in-game gold, bonus loot pulls, you name it. In some campaigns, every four hours you NPC’d might earn you a special loot ticket, and if you didn’t NPC at least once per event, you might even lose out on some XP gain. Some games basically require NPC participation (or make you pay extra to skip it). So yes, helping out is often baked into the culture. And when everyone does their part, it’s awesome, the NPC crew is happy, the story is epic, and there’s no burnout on a few people. I’ve heard about some of the best friendships being formed while working together in the NPC monster tent at 3 AM, deliriously laughing as players put on green makeup for the tenth time.

However, here comes the hard truth: some organizations will take advantage of your goodwill if you let them. I’ve heard countless stories of eager players who said “yes” to every request, and paid for it. One weekend, a player spent probably 80% of the event NPCing or helping staff: cooking in-character meals, playing five different NPC roles, even staying late on Sunday to clean up the site. They were happy to do it… until they realized it was expected every time. The game runners had found a “sucker” who would do all the boring jobs, and that “sucker” was them. Their only “reward” was a pat on the back and some extra imaginary currency that had no real value. Meanwhile, they barely got to play their own character that weekend. They went home feeling more like unpaid staff than a larp player.

This is unfortunately common, enthusiastic, good-natured players getting burnt out because they can’t say no. LARP is a labor of love for organizers, true, but that doesn’t mean any one player should carry the weight of running the whole show. Many players have had to learn to set boundaries. Now, they volunteer in ways that they enjoy and that still allow them their play time. For example, they might marshal one module or run one NPC encounter per event, but they won’t sign up for four back-to-back shifts anymore. If a game somehow demands that level of unpaid labor from them, they’ll push back or find a different game. It’s important to remember that as a player, you are also a customer. Your time, your fees, your enjoyment matter just as much as the plotlines and NPC headcount.

To any LARPer reading this, especially newer folks: help out, but know your limits. If you love NPCing, awesome, just keep an eye out for burnout. If you notice you haven’t been in character for half the event because you’re always volunteering, it’s okay to step back. Also, be wary of those “in-game reward” traps: some games will promise you special titles or treasures for doing tons of out-of-game work, but ask yourself if it’s worth it. A shiny magic sword on your character sheet means squat if you’re too exhausted or jaded to have fun with it. I’ve heard about players chasing those dangled carrots, spending hours doing setup and logistics for the promise of a unique item. They got the item… and then realized they had no actual time to play with it because they were always running around working! Lesson learned.

The flip side of this coin is respecting others’ contributions. When someone does volunteer or lend a hand, show some gratitude. Many players make it a habit to thank NPCs and staff at every game, those poor souls beaten by pvc pipes wrapped in foam often don’t get paid (or get paid in pizza and energy drinks at best), and they’re doing it to make the magic happen for you. A little recognition goes a long way. Even just staying after to help clean up, or donating costuming bits to the NPC stash, can show the organizers you appreciate them. A healthy LARP community is one where everyone, Players, NPCs, and staff feels valued and no one feels like a faceless grunt or a pack mule. Remember that the person playing the snarling orc horde or handing out character sheets is likely a fellow player just like you, giving their time. Be gracious and grateful for their energy. I’ve also learned to step aside when needed, if I’ve helped a ton, maybe it’s someone else’s turn, or maybe a newcomer would enjoy a chance to NPC. Share the load, share the fun.

Helping others in LARP also extends to in-character assistance and mentorship. If you’re a seasoned player, helping newer players learn the ropes is huge. It could be as simple as guiding them through their first spell casting or whispering reminders of the combat rules. It might be helping someone fix their broken costume piece (ah, the classic duct-tape-on-armor emergency!). Many players carry a little repair kit and extra props partly for this reason to be the person with an extra pair of gloves or a packet of oatmeal (long story) when someone needs it. Not only does this generosity improve their experience, it actually levels up your own. It feels incredibly good to be the one who made a difference in someone’s day. I’ll never forget the smile on a young player’s face when someone lent him a cool-looking sword for a big battle after his had snapped. He went from dejected to absolutely stoked, and he fought like a hero with that loaner blade. After the event, he tried to return it to the lender in character, kneeling and saying “I am forever in your debt, milord.” (I nearly died from how wholesome that was.)

However, as with NPC volunteering, there’s a balance. Don’t become the crutch or the “savior” to the point you’re fixing everyone’s problems at the expense of your own fun. I’ve heard about people pleasers ending up resenting the community because they gave too much of themselves. LARP should never feel like an obligation or like you’re being used. If you sense that happening, maybe one or two people always expect you to handle all the setup or consistently dump their emotional baggage on you during events, it’s okay to set gentle boundaries. You can be helpful and still say “no” sometimes. In fact, knowing when to say no is a skill unto itself in this hobby.

Bottom line: Helping others is one of the greatest things about LARP, it builds friendships and unforgettable moments,  but do it in a sustainable way. Be generous, not self-sacrificing. Contribute, but don’t let others treat you like a pawn or a pack animal. When we each do a little, nobody has to do a lot. That’s the sweet spot many players try to hit these days: carrying their weight (and then some) in the community, while still remembering they’re there to play and enjoy too.

Looking back, these three principles, Integrity, Compassion, and Helping Others have been my anchor and compass in the wild adventure of LARPing. They didn’t come to me overnight or from a rulebook; I, and many others, earned each one through mistakes, misadventures, and moments of epiphany. I learned integrity the day I chose fairness over ego (and probably when I face-planted in battle due to my own dumb costume choices). I learned compassion by experiencing both kindness and cruelty in the community and deciding which side I wanted to land on. I learned the importance of helping others and of not losing myself in the process by giving too much and then learning to give smartly.

Now, when players gear up for a game, they carry these lessons with them like the most valuable loot. They fight with honor, even if it means their character dies (hey, a noble death makes for a great story!). They treat everyone on the field as a potential friend or at least a fellow human behind the character even the ones who test their patience. And they jump in to help, whether it’s slaying the big bad as an NPC or sharing bug spray with the newbie who forgot theirs. But they also know their limits and respect themselves enough to step back when needed.

Has it made us “better LARPers”? Absolutely, in ways that count far more than EXP or badass costumes. These days, many players report having more fun and less drama. They’re part of healthy communities where new players blossom (instead of running for the hills), and where veteran players stick around for years because the environment stays positive. We call out cheating or toxic behavior and then work to fix it, rather than sweeping it under the chainmail. We celebrate each other’s cool character moments and real-life growth. We become, for lack of a cheesier term, a fellowship.

I’ll be real with you: LARP will always have its challenges. People are people, after all, throw us into an imaginary world with foam weapons and some of us will still find a way to be difficult. But if you hold onto integrity, practice compassion, and lend a hand where you can, you’ll be doing your part to make the hobby better. Others notice that, and it inspires them to do the same. It’s contagious in the best way.

So whether you’re a fresh-faced adventurer or a battle-worn veteran, these are virtues worth striving for. Not because any rule demands it, but because it transforms the game. It turns a weekend event into a lifelong passion and a bunch of random nerds into a community of friends. And honestly, it just feels good. There’s nothing like coming home from a LARP (exhausted, sore, maybe a little smelly) and thinking, “Yeah, we did something cool together.”

In the end, we’re all swinging foam swords and slinging spells in the woods, grown adults playing make-believe. The magic isn’t in the rulebooks or the props, it’s in us and how we treat each other. So let’s treat each other well. Keep your integrity sharp, your compassion strong, and your helping hand ready (with a firm grip on your self-respect). Do that, and I promise you’ll not only become a better LARPer, you’ll make LARP better for everyone around you. And that, my friends, is the real epic loot.