Today’s prompt for #RPGaDay2024 is “Marvellous Miniature,” but here’s the thing: I’m not a fan. Don’t get me wrong—miniatures are undeniably cool. They’re fun to paint, they let you channel your inner artist, and the satisfaction of finishing a perfectly detailed figurine is unmatched. But when it comes to using them in roleplaying sessions? Hard pass.

Miniatures might be marvelous in the right context, but they’re not for every game or every table. Let’s be real: if you’re not playing a tactical, wargame-derived roleplaying game, those little figures become more of a hindrance than a help. They take up space, distract from the story, and frankly, don’t fit into my preferred style of play. So while I can appreciate the artistry involved, I’d rather keep them on the shelf than bring them to the table.

Fun to Create, Not to Use

First, let’s talk about the appeal of miniatures. I’ll admit, they’re a blast to paint. There’s something satisfying about transforming a bland, gray hunk of plastic into a fully realized character. It’s creative, it’s relaxing, and it’s a great way to spend an afternoon. Plus, you can use all those fancy paints and brushes you’ve convinced yourself you need.

But here’s where things get complicated. As much as I enjoy painting them, I don’t want to deal with them during a roleplaying session. They take up room—not just on the table, but in your bag, on your shelves, and in your life. Transporting a full set of miniatures to a session feels like you’re moving an army, which might be the point if you’re into wargames, but not if you’re there for the storytelling.

Distraction Central

Once you’ve lugged all those miniatures to the table, the problems don’t stop. They become a distraction. Instead of focusing on the narrative, players get caught up in moving their miniatures around, worrying about positioning, and agonizing over whether they’re standing in the exact right spot on the grid. It turns what should be a fluid, immersive experience into a game of chess.

And then there’s the real-life chaos that can ensue. Let me tell you about the time my 7-year-old nephew wanted to watch the game. He was fascinated by what was happening on the table, but the adults were busy moving minis around, blocking his view. Determined to see what was going on, he leaned over so far that he fell right off his chair, cracked his head open, and ended up needing 14 stitches. We had to end the session right then and there to take him to the hospital. Talk about a session killer.

The Joy of a Laid-Back Session

For me, roleplaying is about the interaction between characters, the shared storytelling, and the spontaneous moments that happen when you’re fully engaged in the narrative. It’s not about meticulously placing figures on a map and debating the exact range of a fireball spell.

That’s why I prefer to play without miniatures. Give me a sofa, a comfy chair, and some snacks, and I’m set. When everyone’s relaxed, lounging around, and focused on the conversation, the game flows more naturally. There’s no need to worry about where your miniature is on the board or whether it’s facing the right direction. Instead, you can get lost in the story, react to what’s happening, and really inhabit your character.

Without the distraction of miniatures, the game becomes more about imagination and less about logistics. You can describe your actions in vivid detail, conjuring up images in the minds of your fellow players without the constraints of a physical representation. It’s freeing, and it keeps the focus where it belongs—on the story.

Miniatures: Marvellous but Not Essential

Look, I get why people love miniatures. They’re a tangible way to connect with the game, they add a visual element that can be really engaging, and they give you something cool to show off at conventions. But they’re not essential, and for some of us, they’re more trouble than they’re worth.

So while today’s #RPGaDay2024 prompt is “Marvellous Miniature,” my take is a little different. Miniatures can be marvelous—just not at my table. I’d rather leave them to the painters and the wargamers, while I kick back on the couch and enjoy a game that’s all about the story, the characters, and the conversation.

In the end, it’s all about finding what works best for you and your group. If miniatures enhance your experience, more power to you. But if you find they’re more of a distraction than a delight, don’t be afraid to set them aside. After all, the most important thing is that everyone’s having fun, whether you’re playing with miniatures or not.