Role Player's Digest #2
February 23, 2026
Welcome to the second edition of Role Player’s Digest. We have a great feature article from Paul Walker for you, some wonderful art from Toby Penney, as well as some links to more role playing inspiration.
Index
Feature Article
Table for One? Why I’m not embarrassed to play solo by Paul Walker
Game Reviews
A casual stroll through the Painted Wastelands by Kind of Old
Review of Sketchy Birds by Brian Jones with illustrations by Toby Penney
Mindset
The Performance Paradox by Kate Korsaro
Podcasts and Videos
How to play SoloRPGs - 3 Ways anyone can play by Daniel
Playthroughs
Shadowdim solo play by Bryan Miller
Resources
Creating a Sci-Fi Star System with Mythic by Alone in the Realm
Storytelling through Gaming
Behind the Scenes: Writing the Silver Spire Pt. 1 by Niamh Celeste
Strategies
Kitbashing my Knight Game: Or a Short Guide to Playing Multiple Games at Once by Nick Martin
The Best Status Condition by Riley Clark
How I solo Dolmenwood: the Campaign Mode of Omen GME by The Random Refuge
Feature Article
Table for One? Why I’m not embarrassed to play solo
by Paul Walker
If you spend any time lurking in the digital shadows of Substack, Reddit, or Facebook, you’ve seen “That Post.”
It almost always starts the same way: “I got into solo roleplaying because, as the years have passed, my gaming group has gradually crumbled into dust.”
The eulogies for these groups are remarkably consistent. It’s never a dramatic falling out.
No, it’s the slow, agonising erosion of adulting. It’s scheduling conflicts that require a PhD in logistics to solve. It’s cosplaying as a Taxi Driver for teenage kids who have a more active social life than we ever had at their age. It’s work commitments, lawn maintenance, and the general exhaustion of existing in the 21st century.
Suddenly, the gaming group that—ten years ago—had more free time than they knew what to do with, becomes a mathematical impossibility.
Then you have the “System Refugees.” These are the poor souls who want to try a gritty cyberpunk heist or some whimsical journaling game about being a sentient mushroom, but their group is welded to D&D 5e with the strength of industrial-grade epoxy. They won’t budge.
If it doesn’t involve a D20 and a Fireball spell, they aren’t interested.
I’ve seen every reason under the sun for why solo TTRPGs are considered “the lesser option”—the methadone to the group-play heroin.
Rarely, if ever, do I see someone standing up and shouting that solo play is their primary gaming mode of choice. It’s always framed as a fallback, a lonely plan B, or a way to kill time until the “real” gamers come back from their kids’ soccer practice.
A couple of months ago, a little notification popped up on my local Facebook community page. A guy was trying to establish a local RPG group. The best part? The venue was a community hall no more than a five-minute stroll from my front door. I could have walked there in my slippers if I’d been feeling particularly bold.
My initial reaction was one of intrigued curiosity. Sure enough, D&D 5e was mentioned as the main system, but the organiser appeared open to other options. He emphasised that it was “beginner-friendly” and assured that anyone interested would be shown the ropes, even if they didn’t know a d8 from a hole in the ground.
It sounded promising. It sounded wholesome. It sounded like a great way to re-enter society.
Until I actually thought about it for more than ten seconds.
First, I did what any self-respecting internet user does: I engaged in some light Facebook profiling. The guy setting up the group was, I guess, somewhere in his mid-twenties. The initial respondents looked to be in the same demographic ballpark.
I, on the other hand, am a gentleman of a certain vintage. I’m in my mid-sixties. To put it bluntly, these people looked younger than my own children.
I started mind-mapping the “walk-in.” Imagine it: half a dozen bright-eyed Millennials and Gen Z-ers sitting around a table, trading memes and laughing about things I’d probably need an Urban Dictionary entry to understand.
Then, the door creaks open, and in walks this “knackered old Boomer.”
The silence would be deafening. It would be the kind of conversational death that follows a fart in a library. I could almost see the thought bubbles above their heads: “Is he here for the bridge club? Did he get lost on the way to the pharmacy? Is he someone’s grandpa coming to pick them up?”
Or, even worse, they’d be perfectly polite and assume I was the janitor wandering in to check why the heating was making that clanking sound or looking for a misplaced set of master keys.
Then there’s the experience gap. Despite the “beginner-friendly” tag, these groups inevitably attract people with years of D&D experience. My experience with the world’s most popular role-playing game is exactly zero. That is a very low bar to clear.
The thought of being “carried” through a rudimentary starter dungeon by a group of well-meaning, yet undeniably condescending, twenty-somethings triggered my social anxieties in about five seconds flat. I could hear the helpful, slow-motion explanations: “Now, see this plastic shape? That’s the twenty-sided one. You roll that to see if you hit the goblin, Sir.”
I started visualising the entire evening: the “fish out of water” feeling, the forced small talk about “the youth of today,” and the crushing weight of trying to roleplay a brooding rogue while my knees are making more noise than the dice. I’d be desperately checking my watch, waiting for the sweet release of the session ending so I could throw on my coat and escape back into the cool, solitary night with a massive sigh of relief.
Paranoid? Overthinking it? Of course I am!
I’m reasonably certain it wouldn’t be that bad. They’d probably be lovely, welcoming people.
...Or would they? (Insert ominous Twilight Zone theme music here.)
After staring at the “Reply” button for a good twenty minutes, I decided to let the opportunity pass. And in that moment of clicking away, I had a minor epiphany.
The reason I didn’t go wasn’t that I’m shy (though I am), or because I’m old (though I am), or because I’m worried about being “the janitor.”
The truth is, I’m not a solo player because I can’t find a group. I’m not a solo player because I’m “testing” things out for a future party.
I am a solo player by choice.
There. I said it. Someone notify the authorities.
There is nothing inherently “wrong” or “sad” about being a solo-only TTRPG player. I’m not neck-deep in this hobby because I’m a social pariah who can’t find friends (though, let’s be honest, my social circle is basically the guy who delivers my Amazon packages and me).
I play solo because it is, for me, the superior way to experience a story.
Get over it, Reddit naysayers!
When you strip away the social pressure and the “consensual storytelling” of a group, you find some incredible perks that the group-huggers will never understand:
I play whenever I want. I don’t need to consult a shared Google Calendar or wait for Dave to finish his shift at the hospital.
If I want to play at 11:00 PM on a Tuesday, the table is ready and waiting.
I can shoehorn a cheeky session in between a doctor’s appointment and a nap. I don’t need a four-hour “block” of time to make it worth it.
I can stop mid-combat to spend twenty minutes reading the deep lore of a fictional city or writing a flowery journal entry for my character. In a group, people would start throwing dice at my head. Solo?
I can spend fifteen minutes agonising over whether to turn left or right in a corridor. I can ponder the moral implications of a dialogue choice until the sun goes down, and nobody is there to tell me to “just roll the damn dice.”
I can break off to grab a sandwich, stare out the window at a passing bird, or check the score of the game without breaking anyone else’s “immersion.”
The more I think about it, the more I realise that solo play isn’t a compromise. It’s the gold standard. It’s total creative control without the baggage of human egos and scheduling nightmares.
So, am I a “saddo”? Maybe a little. But I’m a saddo with a dragon to kill, a world to save, and nobody to tell me I’m doing it wrong.
Are you with me—or do you still need to check with your group first?
Game Reviews
A casual stroll through the Painted Wastelands by Kind of Old. An agile review of the Painted Wastelands, a horror/psychedelic hexcrawl for OSE based on the delirious and surreal comics of Tim Molloy. We go through both the great stuff and the not-so-great stuff, all from first-hand experience playing the module.
Review of Sketchy Birds by Brian Jones with illustrations by Toby Penney by Niamh Celeste. If you need a quick palate cleanser for your day, you need Sketchy Birds, a game so fun it should be illegal.
Mindset
The Performance Paradox by Kate Korsaro. Tabletop RPG culture has shifted from an external focus on exploration (“How cool is that?”) to an internal focus on performance and character curation (“Look how cool I am”). This shift often clashes with complex rule systems, leading us to hand-wave mechanics in favor of cinematic moments, which lowers the stakes of the game. Furthermore, the pressure to emulate the production value of professional “Actual Play” shows is causing unnecessary GM burnout. To sustain the hobby, we should consider returning to a “gaming” mindset: respecting the dice, exploring the world with curiosity rather than pre-written scripts, and playing to be surprised rather than to perform.
Podcasts and Videos
How to play SoloRPGs - 3 Ways anyone can play by Daniel. I create an adventure hook and walk through 3 different ways to play a SoloRPG
Playthroughs
Shadowdim solo play by Bryan Miller. A Beyond the Wall derivative mega dungeon campaign
Resources
Creating a Sci-Fi Star System with Mythic by Alone in the Realm. Read a demonstration of the Star System Crafter in Mythic Magazine Volume 46. The perfect tool to create your adventures in space!
Storytelling through Gaming
Behind the Scenes: Writing the Silver Spire Pt. 1 by Niamh Celeste. Putting together and organizing a homebrew campaign for writing a serial novel.
Strategies
Kitbashing my Knight Game: Or a Short Guide to Playing Multiple Games at Once by Nick Martin. Here are some ideas for how to break out of the constraints of singular systems and start crossing over however your story might need. Included is my current stack of materials and games for the knight-centered game that I’m playing.
The Best Status Condition by Riley Clark. This post is about what I think the overall best status condition across all games is (both video and tabletop). I use Mythic Bastionland as an example for why "Dead" is the best status condition.
How I solo Dolmenwood: the Campaign Mode of Omen GME by The Random Refuge. One of the most asked questions about Omen GME is if it will be able to run prewritten material, such as campaign books like Dolmenwood. In this article I discuss the oracles specifically added to the new Campaign Mode.
We hope you enjoyed The Role Player’s Digest. If you’d like your work to appear in the March 2026 edition, please submit your articles, art, reviews, GM tips, or anything else having to do with role playing to us here by Friday March 27. In the meantime, May the Dice be With You!
I loved Paul’s piece. I laughed so hard at so many different sections - probably because I identify with the narrative.
Your worries about strangers - I’m trying to get a regular game started with MY adult children (3 boys) and the ribbing has already hit alarming heights and we’ve yet to roll any dice!! Who needs strangers or enemies!?!
I hear ya, Paul. For me, I tell myself solo is for convenience. But we both know better… 😊
"solo because it is, for me, the superior way to experience a story." <= AMEN.