Under normal circumstances, if your date jumped to their feet and announced they were late to fight a vampire, you might be forgiven for thinking they just weren’t that into you. But things are a bit different when you’re larping – live action role playing – and the person in question is dressed as a (literal) knight in shining armour. In fact, vampire hunting sort of comes with the territory – and it turns out I was right not to worry. Because that knight, Matt, is now my husband.
Larping is a strange mix of improvised acting and storytelling. You take on a character in an imaginary setting, solving problems and defeating enemies by acting out your character’s conversations and plans, and engaging with monsters and plots provided by the larp organisers. But it’s often a hobby with a bad rep. People tend to think there’s something a bit suspect about grown adults playing dress up and pretending to be heroes in a whole other world, as evidenced by the strange looks I still sometimes get when I mention it; and there are a bunch of (largely inaccurate) stereotypes about maladjusted nerds with poor hygiene.
But when a friend of mine raved about how much fun it was, back in the summer of 2008, I was curious enough to agree to give it a go. I’d been in a bit of a mental health pit of woe and I was keen to interact with life again. I wasn’t necessarily looking for love specifically, but I also wasn’t closed off to the possibility.
So, that August bank holiday, I rocked up to a campsite usually used by Scouts and Guides – along with 800 or so other people – and was amazed to see a whole fantasy medieval world, with decorated bell tents, people cooking over open fires, and complex, engaging stories being played out in real time. It was next level escapism with a bonus helping of nature; and I was hooked.
I swiftly became a committed attendee at the four annual events, spaced evenly across the summer months, and the hobby became an important source of community and fun in my life. But, while I quickly realised larping was an intensely sociable hobby, involving oodles of face-to-face interaction – I was never expecting to find my future husband as a direct result.
In the early days, I was largely enjoying swishing around in a ball gown and playing politics with the other ladies of the court. Sometimes I would still have moments of intense self-consciousness, thinking, ‘What on earth am I doing here, trying to solve a riddle set by a man painted green?!’ – but since everyone around me acted like this was perfectly normal, I just followed suit.
Matt, on the other hand, had been larping for much longer than me. He was involved in organising the game as well as playing it – and he seemed to be universally kind to everyone. But we’d never really had much to do with one another, until one particularly stormy evening sent half the attendees of a larping event I was attending seeking shelter in the atmospheric, candlelit tavern: the Crimson Moon.
We were sitting on different tables to begin with – casting glances in each other’s directions. But when he asked me to join him for a game of historical strategy called Nine Men’s Morris, we quickly fell into a playful, teasing rhythm.
While it was technically only our characters spending time together – him, a smiley and passionate knight devoted to righteous vengeance; me, a noble lady with a penchant for puzzles and code breaking – I started to wonder if there might not be some real life feelings beyond the in-game connection. I won Nine Men’s Morris conclusively and he was charming and self-effacing about it. We both grew rosy and relaxed with the warmth of the fire and the honey sweet mead we were drinking, cosily ensconced from the howling wind and battering rain outside.
And then he suddenly jumped to his feet and disappeared to fight the aforementioned vampire – after all, it was what his dutiful knightly character would do – leaving me cursing his conscientiousness (but secretly impressed with his swordsmanship; even if it was only made of latex).
After that, we spent more time together at events.
For a while, we pretended it was purely a romance between our in-game personas; but it soon became obvious that it was our real selves who were falling in love. The games often run until the early hours of the morning, but we would always stay up beyond that for a chance to talk in real life.
And, while our larping story had a rather tragic ending (my character watched his being murdered by undead creatures in a ritual circle!), our own had a happier one. Several months after that tavern ‘date’, we saw each other at a real life larp social in a nightclub. From there, we arranged another in-person date where I horrified him by deconstructing my fajitas in a Mexican restaurant. Fortunately, it was already obvious by this point that we were a done deal and so he didn’t hold it against me.
Four years after we first met, we got married – with many of the friends we’d made through larping in attendance. That stormy night was over a decade ago; but we’ve continued attending larp events, and larping has remained a big part of our lives.
We have a little boy now, too – and though he’s yet to attend his first event, he’s already obsessed with knights, wizards and dragons. Clearly, there’s something in the genes.
I think you need certain qualities to be attracted to larp in the first place – a willingness to suspend disbelief, an open approach to things that seem different, and a sense of whimsy and playfulness. And when you find these qualities in a kind and handsome knight who is also caring and heroic in real life; well, it’s hard not to be smitten.
