Beyond the Tabletop: How Game Designer Alex Roberts Blends Narrative Play with Therapeutic Healing

In the modern tabletop landscape, few games have achieved the cultural resonance of For the Queen. Known for its elegant, Jenga-powered mechanics in titles like Star Crossed and its evocative, card-driven storytelling in For the Queen, game designer Alex Roberts has carved a unique niche for herself. However, Roberts occupies a dual identity that is increasingly influencing her creative output: she is both an acclaimed game designer and a practicing professional counsellor.

While these two career paths may appear disparate to the casual observer, for Roberts, they are inextricably linked. Her design philosophy is built upon the belief that the architecture of a game can facilitate human connection, empathy, and emotional catharsis. As the second edition of For the Queen hits shelves—published by the Critical Role-owned Darrington Press—the industry is taking a closer look at how play can serve as a vessel for healing.

The Intersection of Play and Psychology

At its core, For the Queen is a collaborative storytelling experience. Players assume the roles of attendants to a matriarchal monarch, drawing prompt cards that force them to navigate complex emotional terrain, power dynamics, and personal loyalty. It is a game designed to prioritize the journey over the destination, encouraging players to listen as intently as they speak.

For Roberts, this structure is intentional. "Playing story games made me a better counsellor," she explains. "I got into making games because it’s fun, but the practice has taught me how to pay close attention and listen to people. The game is structured in such a way that people are primed to listen to each other. Players enter a specific mode of listening so they can craft meaningful follow-up questions."

This focus on active listening serves as the bridge between her clinical practice and her design desk. In a therapeutic setting, the goal is to create a safe space for vulnerability; in For the Queen, the mechanics create a "rehearsal" for that same vulnerability.

Chronology of a Creative Evolution

The journey of For the Queen from a niche indie project to a second-edition release via a major studio like Darrington Press represents a broader shift in the tabletop industry.

• Early Development: Roberts conceptualized For the Queen as a response to the need for low-barrier, high-impact storytelling. The game was designed to eliminate the need for long prep times or complex rulebooks, focusing entirely on the "human element" of the narrative.
• Initial Reception: Upon its debut, the game was praised for its minimalist mechanics and its ability to foster deep, character-driven conversations among players who were previously strangers.
• The Second Edition Transition: As Roberts and the industry observed how players were utilizing the game, the need for a second edition became apparent. This allowed Roberts to refine the experience, improving the artwork and, more importantly, removing prompts that caused unnecessary friction or discomfort.
• Current Status: With the support of Darrington Press, the second edition has cemented its status as a staple for both casual gamers and those interested in the therapeutic potential of roleplaying games (RPGs).

Supporting Data: Why "Passing" is a Core Mechanic

A critical component of Roberts’ design is the "pass" mechanic. In many games, there is a pressure to "perform" or participate equally, which can alienate quieter players or those who feel uncomfortable with specific emotional prompts. Roberts argues that the ability to opt out is not just a safety feature—it is a design requirement.

"It’s really important to me that people can pass on their turn," Roberts says. She recalls a session with her sister, who identifies as a quieter player. "My sister passed on maybe half her turns, and what was so interesting is that I was so happy with how that worked because she was still enjoying it very much. It is vital to design for those players."

This reflects a deeper understanding of group dynamics. By removing the pressure to "be productive," Roberts creates a space where players are free to engage at their own pace. This mirrors the principles of person-centered therapy, where the client’s autonomy and comfort are the primary drivers of the session.

Refining the Narrative: Removing Friction

In the second edition, Roberts took the opportunity to curate the experience more carefully. While she acknowledges that games can be challenging, she also recognizes that certain prompts can be counterproductive to the goal of shared storytelling.

"Being told you’re ugly hits people a certain way," she notes, referring to a prompt from the first edition that saw significant negative reactions. "Keeping it in was not worth the bad times it caused." This editorial decision underscores a key tenet of her work: for a space to be truly therapeutic, it must be curated to allow for vulnerability without falling into the trap of emotional trauma or unnecessary toxicity.

Official Responses and Industry Implications

The rise of games like For the Queen has sparked a wider conversation about the role of RPGs in mental health. While formal therapy is a distinct medical practice, the "therapeutic potential" of play is gaining legitimacy.

"The experience of being acknowledged and treated as a valuable human being that’s being listened to is powerful," Roberts asserts. "Being able to say things that you’ve maybe never said before and have it be accepted as alright—that is a restorative experience."

She compares this to group therapy, noting that the "empathetic witnessing" by peers with a shared experience is a profound catalyst for change. "We often talk about therapeutic relationships as being a rehearsal for other relationships; these things can also happen in the roleplaying space."

Challenging the Medicalized View of Healing

Roberts is quick to remind people that "therapy," in the clinical, Western sense, is a relatively recent invention. Throughout history, communities have found ways to process trauma and grief through ritual, performance, and shared storytelling.

"I like to remind people that therapy hasn’t been around for that long, but people have always suffered and found ways to work with that suffering," she says. She points to international programs—such as community-based grief processing in Rwanda—where traditional one-on-one therapy was rejected in favor of communal, shared experiences. Her work with For the Queen serves as a modern, accessible, and voluntary iteration of this historical impulse toward communal healing.

Implications for Future Game Design

As the industry moves forward, the influence of designers like Roberts suggests a pivot toward "intentional design." This involves:

1. Cultural Sensitivity: Moving away from universal prompts that may trigger negative reactions without adding narrative value.
2. Player Autonomy: Integrating mechanics that allow for "passing" or "re-framing" to ensure player safety.
3. Active Listening Focus: Building game structures that mandate engagement and empathetic response from the table.

However, Roberts offers a caveat for those looking to turn their next game night into a self-styled therapy session: context is king. "I think it has a lot to do with the culture of play at the table; it’s perfectly legitimate to not want to be in anybody’s therapy session."

She encourages players to prioritize the "social contract" of their group. The most profound moments in gaming do not come from forcing a therapeutic agenda, but from creating a secure environment where players can safely explore their boundaries.

"One of the reasons why I feel games are therapeutic is that they don’t have to actively be therapy to provide some of the healing benefits," she concludes. "You don’t know when something profound is going to happen in a roleplaying game. My God, just play with people you like and trust."

Conclusion: The Path Forward

The second edition of For the Queen is more than just a refreshed deck of cards; it is a testament to the idea that games are a powerful, often overlooked tool for human development. By bridging the gap between clinical psychology and the tabletop hobby, Alex Roberts has provided a framework for designers to create experiences that are not only entertaining but genuinely restorative.

As the industry continues to grow, the question is no longer just "Is this game fun?" but "What does this game allow us to be?" In the case of For the Queen, the answer is a space where players are seen, heard, and—perhaps most importantly—accepted for exactly who they are in that moment. Through the simple act of drawing a card and answering a question, we are reminded that we are not alone in our experiences, and that there is a profound, quiet power in simply being present for one another.