Accessible Adventures

Discover how adventure games level the playing field for a gamer who has cerebral palsy

Manannan is returning! Oh no! He could be here at any moment! My heart races as I watch our character, Gwydion, walk around the screen as he searches desperately for Manannan’s magic wand! Wresting it from the wizard’s control is the only way he can win his freedom! Where could it be; the closet, the kitchen, the study? Where? He’s running out of time! We must help him! Ignoring the smiles of my friends, I struggle to control my breathing as Mananan poofs in and, with a savage thrust of his enchanted finger, zaps Gwydion into dust. As I release an audible breath that I wasn’t aware I was holding, the quiet chuckles of my companions tell me they think I’m taking this a little too seriously. I relax a little as I hear the ending music and my friends say, “Well that didn’t work, what should we do differently, Erik?”

Since the dawn of history, games have brought many people of varied abilities together. It was true for the ancient Egyptians, who galvanized their middle kingdom through the invention of the board game Senet in 3100 B.C., where the movement of pieces was governed by throwing sticks.¹ Even though I grew up far from Egypt’s mysterious, burning sands, and video games have eclipsed my interest in board games, the uniting power of games is just as evident to me. I was born with cerebral palsy, a disability that affects my ability to move, talk, type, and play most games; adventure games are the exception. Fortunately, I grew up in the eighties and nineties when Sierra and Lucasarts were in their heyday. Gwydion’s adventure, King’s Quest Three, was rooted in story and puzzles that I could solve with my intelligence and not my reflexes. I stood the same chance of aiding Gwydion as an able-bodied player. I knew it and my friends knew it, too!

My gaming childhood was comprised of adventure games like King’s Quest and first-person shooters like Doom. Shooters were very hard to play because my disability limited the dexterity in my fingers and put me at a disadvantage. When playing a shooter like Doom with my friends, I felt invisible. Other players would unintentionally forget about me or might think of me as an easy target and end my twitchy misery quickly. I didn’t really like to play shooters. Narrative-focused Adventure Games, were different. When I played an adventure, it drew me into a compelling story which flowed from an imaginary world where I was just as capable as everybody else. My disability didn’t matter; my friends could readily see how I could contribute and made efforts to include me and ask for my advice.

Jean Piaget said, “Play is the work of childhood.” His wisdom can benefit people of any age. When games are at their best, they allow us to hone our skills and allow us to demonstrate them in a relaxed, friendly environment. Ever since the ancient Egyptians threw that first stick in that long ago, revolutionary experiment in entertainment, games have served the same purpose: to make people accessible to each other. Adventure games helped me become accessible to other people in a way very few things did. I hope new accessible adventures are made for a long time to come.
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¹Senet- Ancient Egyptian board game
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About the Author
My name is Erik Parkin. I like iced coffee. I graduated Suma Cum Latte from Seattle University. I enjoy a good story and have been telling them since kindergarten. When I’m not playing adventure games, I volunteer at a non-profit organization in Seattle, work on my fantasy novel, and write in my blog, Fantasy’s Gate.