When You Feel Invisible at the Table, And Start Actin’ Out
Mike’s Personal Thoughts
By Margann’s crusty beard, lad, nothing twists a tavern night faster than a player who feels unseen. One moment yer quiet as a sleeping badger, the next yer throwin’ dramatic monologues at the GM, wrestlin’ spotlight from yer party, or derailin’ the whole quest because someone didn’t hear ya speak up during the planning scene.
Now don’t get prickly. This ain’t me swingin’ insults at ya. This is me recognisin’ the tremor in yer boots. Because folk who act the loudest often started the night feelin’ the smallest.
Long before I kept this tavern, I traveled with a fellow named Brannik the Softstep. Rogue sharper than a serpent’s tooth, eyes like a hawk, soul wound tight as an unstrung bow. He didn’t speak much. Didn’t need to. But when someone else earned praise? Or when the party talked over him without meanin’ to? The lad cracked like thin ice.
Suddenly he’d be climbin’ rooftops mid-conversation. Pickpocketin’ friendly NPCs for “fun.” Interruptin’ tense moments with ill-timed stunts. None of it came from malice. It came from the ache of bein’ unseen.
One night I caught him mutterin’, “If I don’t make somethin’ happen, no one remembers I’m here.”
And something inside me dropped like a hammer.
There’s no loneliness sharper than bein’ surrounded by people who don’t seem to notice yer heart beatin’. But the lie at the root of it is the same lie fear always tells:
Yer worth is measured by how much attention ya grab.
No. Yer worth is yer worth. Attention don’t change it. Silence don’t dim it. Others shinin’ don’t take it from ya.
If this fear’s been gnawin’ at yer ribs, wander through scrolls like “A Compliment Ain’t a Confession” in the Tavern Etiquette halls. Sometimes feelin’ invisible comes from misreadin’ simple kindness as neglect.
When Yer Voice Feels Too Small for the Table
👉 If yer nerves twist every time the spotlight passes ya by, the old stones of Mike’s Tavern have room for ya. Step through the About door, or tap the contact stone if ya need a place that won’t forget ya exist.
Fear of bein’ ignored shows up long before anyone notices. It starts as a quiet ache. A hesitation. A moment where ya think, “They didn’t hear me… maybe I’m not worth hearin’.” And from there, fear starts shapeshiftin’.
Sometimes it turns ya loud.
Sometimes it turns ya reckless.
Sometimes it turns ya clingy to scenes that ain’t meant to be yers.
Not because ya want to steal attention.
Because ya want proof yer presence matters.
But listen close, lad, because this truth’s carved deeper than dwarven runes:
Yer presence matters before ya prove a single thing.
The table is richer because yer in the room at all.
And when ya start actin’ out, the table ain’t annoyed at yer personality. They’re confused by the fear drivin’ ya to strain for attention ya never needed to fight for.
If fear’s makin’ ya tug the spotlight, read “Roleplay Ain’t Theater, It’s Teamwork” in the Player Tips hall. It’ll show ya that havin’ a voice at the table ain’t about volume. It’s about connection.
If fear’s makin’ ya overcorrect with wild actions, the scroll “Talk First, Swing Later” at the Player Tips chamber might steady yer instincts. Not every scene needs ya to shout, flip a table, or throw a grapple check just to feel real.
And if yer fear comes from seein’ others shine too bright next to ya, take a long, slow look at “How to Celebrate Wins That Aren’t Yours” over in the Tavern Etiquette shelves. Jealousy ain’t born from greed. It’s born from the ache of bein’ unseen.
On the GM side, if ya think they’re ignorin’ ye because they “don’t care,” take a breath and peek at “When Yer Mind Goes Blank and the NPC’s Name Is Just… Uhhh” in the GM Wisdom hall. Half the time they’re jugglin’ goblins in their head and forgot what day it is. It ain’t personal. It never was.
Ya don’t need to fight for a place ya already have.
Ya don’t need to shout to be heard by people who want ya there.
Ya don’t need to prove yer worth to folk who never questioned it.
Yer seat at the table is carved as surely as mine behind this bar.
Yer Presence Ain’t a Trick, Lad — It’s a Gift
👉 If this scroll stirred somethin’ in yer ribs, wander deeper into the Tavern Etiquette archive or shore up yer instincts in the GM Wisdom corner. And if fear grips ya like a goblin hangin’ off yer boot, send word through the contact stones. The Tavern remembers ya, whether ya feel visible or not.
FAQ
Q: What if no one notices when I speak up?
Folk get distracted. Happens at every table in every tavern across every world. yer value isn’t tied to how fast others respond. Keep speakin’, lad. Yer voice deserves the air it walks on.
Q: How do I stop myself from overacting just to feel included?
Slow down. Ask yerself what ya actually want in the moment. A scene? A connection? A choice? Start there. The table responds to sincerity more than stunts.
Q: What if I feel invisible even when others say they care?
That ache comes from inside, not outside. Tables can welcome ya. They can cheer for ya. But only you can let the truth sink in. Yer presence has weight. Yer quiet moments still matter.
