Players, Remember, Nobody is a Jerk to Everyone All The Time

We've all shared a table with this character at least once. Maybe it was the rogue who always seemed to have a veiled threat when they interacted with anyone. Perhaps it was the barbarian who always bullied people to get their way. Or the wizard who talked down and condescended to everyone else because, as evidenced by their stats, they were clearly the smartest person in the room at any given time. Even if you liked the player, or you recognized what they were trying to do with their character, after a while you just couldn't put up with it anymore.

Because no matter what happened, no matter what you did, or how you tried to roleplay with them, the character had one setting, and it was being a jerk. That was their whole thing, and no matter what buttons you pushed they just didn't seem interested in shifting gears.

Got a problem? Fight me!

This week I want to remind players of something; no one is a jerk all the time, and to every person they know. Everyone has their moments of thoughtfulness, apology, camaraderie, and even support. Everyone has people they want to stay friends with, whom they want to like them, or who they know they cannot afford to burn bridges with. Being unpleasant all the time is just playing one note, and it's a note people get tired of really, really fast.

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You Don't Have To Be Nice (Just Don't Be a Pain in The Ass)

To get out ahead of the strawman criticisms on this point, I'm not saying that all our characters need to be kind, good, nice, or accepting. You don't have to bake cookies and give everyone cool nicknames like you're coaching a little league team. What I'm saying is that to avoid a concept from becoming a one-note character, you need to develop their attitudes more. Allow the character to change and grow, and let them have more than one way of interacting with the world around them.

And in this context, remember that a tabletop RPG is a team sport. All of you are in this together, which means you've got to be able to work with each other.

One more word out of you, and I won't heal you till next week. We clear?

I talked about this back in Make Sure Your Character is as Fun to Play With as They Are to Play, but that entry mostly focused on the meta concerns of gelling with the rest of the table as a player. For this entry I want to look at characters who always seem to respond with snark, hostility, or some sort of aggressive dismissal, and point out that it's a pretty shallow take.

Because you can totally still play characters who act this way... but you need to understand why they act that way, who they act that way toward, and to ask how that element will add to the story rather than taking away from it.

Hey! Nobody Talks That Way To The Wizard But Me...

As an example of what I'm talking about, take your stereotypical barbarian/wizard friction. The barbarian is distrustful of the wizard's academic approach, and dismissive of their use of magic instead of muscle. The wizard considers the barbarian ignorant and savage, always escalating situations pointlessly out of ego, or some backward idea of honor. This situation starts out rough, probably with the two of them either ignoring each other, or trading barbs because neither can do what the other can.

Over time, and the progression of several levels, their relationship begins to change. Uther charged in, sword swinging, to save the wizard from an assailant who could have killed him. And when battle was joined another day, Egregor used his spells to fill Uther with strength, and to protect him from the onslaught of their foes. Their barbs became duller as they began to understand each other, turning into a kind of rough camaraderie that one would expect between soldiers who'd served together, or brothers whose fights camouflaged their affection.

The sort of relationship where Uther might call Egregor a thin-wristed, moon-eyed wren, but let anyone else talk to the wizard that way and Uther will knock that person's teeth out.

Now apologize, before I get upset.

Characters who spend time together, and who face danger side-by-side, should see their relationships change over time, and the layers should be peeled back to reveal what's actually happening.

As a for-instance, the rogue who ran with a gang of toughs is used to insults being exchanged as a form of greeting, or friendship (with certain insults being signs of good relations, and others still maintaining their original, hurtful intent). So what seemed like a barrage of disrespect is actually how you can identify who their friends are. Over time a few party members pick up this patois, while the rogue learns to instead speak to the cleric in a lighter tone that still implies respect and familiarity, without shifting entirely to cold formality. Alternatively the grim, taciturn fighter who always kept to herself slowly comes out of her shell, learning to trust this group of adventurers she's signed on with. In time we find out that she's lost so many comrades that she simply didn't let herself get attached, using stoicism and silence to stop anyone from reaching out to her. After half a dozen levels, though, her party finds out she can cook, and when she's comfortable around you she'll even sing.

This Applies To Evil Characters, Too

The other side of the coin is that you might have a character who is a genuine bastard. There's no cultural misunderstanding for how they act, and no deeper trauma they're hiding; they're just nasty to other people because that is what gives them feelings of power. The ability to hit someone with a really nasty insult, or to outmaneuver someone socially, just makes them happy. Maybe they're not actually evil, just toxic, and they need to keep a strict social hierarchy (and to make clear where they are in the pecking order) in order to function.

Even in these situations, it's important to let characters change and grow as their relationships develop. And, generally speaking, to examine the goals, motivations, and self-preservation of the character in question. And while I covered some of this in 5 Tips For Playing Better Evil Characters, it's worth returning to.

Words are weapons... don't wound your allies, or they won't be your allies for long.

Consider the black knight. His handsome face is constantly twisted by a sneer of disgust, and his every word to those he sees as beneath him is dismissive and arrogant. He'll be the first to backhand a commoner for not bringing him his drink fast enough, or for what he sees as talking back to him.

But would he treat those in his party, his chosen band, the same way? Probably not. It isn't out of the goodness of his black heart, of course, but it might be out of a sense of respect, of honor, or simply of self-preservation.

The knight doesn't respect the hulking brute Caligras, but he knows the half-ogre is dangerous. So he plays the friend, treating him more like a favored hound than as an equal (or even as a person). The witch Tiberius is common-born, and claimed by fell magics to boot, but the knight respects his power, so he treats him the way one might a favored vassal, or a distant cousin. He doesn't want the witch turning those arcane arts from the enemy, onto himself. The same is true of the dark priest Fenethor, whose talk of blood and pain would be frightening were it not so constant. He doesn't waste time intimidating the servant of a flayed god, nor in trying to bully them. Instead he treats their interactions formally, as he would when discussing strategy with an advisor or a lieutenant upon the field of battle.

This lets you play the character as you envision them, but it also means your fun isn't rubbing the other players the wrong way. And even if you establish starting attitudes and opinions regarding others in the party (or even other PCs), those things can always change over time.

Just because a character felt, acted, or behaved one way at the start of the game doesn't mean they can't change as they go through the game. They're getting experience, after all, and experience is what allows all of us to grow and become different over time.

Also, for further reading on the subject, check out:

- Remember, The Party is Under No Obligation To Adventure With You

- Let Them Reap What They Sow (Actions and Consequences For PCs in RPGs)

- 6 Dos and Don'ts of Character Flaws

Like, Follow, and Stay in Touch!

That's all for this week's Fluff post!

For more of my work, check out my Vocal archive, and stop by the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio. Or if you'd prefer to read some of my books, like my alley cat thriller Marked Territory, my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife or my recent short story collection The Rejects, then head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, and now Pinterest as well! To support my work, consider Buying Me a Ko-Fi, or heading to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron. That one helps ensure you get more Improved Initiative, and it means you'll get my regular, monthly giveaways as a bonus!

Everything is Weird in Fantasy RPGs (But That's Not How You Make a Character Stand Out)

Many years ago I got invited to play an RPG with a group I'd never met before. It was pretty large, and the general gist of things was that it was a high-fantasy world with a lot of magic and some rapidly advancing technology. The party, as I was introduced to them, included the following;

- A powerful psychic warrior who'd escaped from a brutal, repressive nation
- A halfling paladin who literally shown with a halo of light.
- A half-elf alchemist smart enough to understand the very fabric of the cosmos.
- A cyborg mercenary with a gambling problem wielding a sword that had slain a powerful lich.

There was one guy who was standing off in the shadows and playing it coy, though. Rather than just introduce his PC, the way the others did, he made a big deal about how there was this tall figure in a black robe that obscured his features. And he was carrying this huge scythe. Then he pulled back the cloth, revealing... well, basically exactly what you're expecting with that lead up.

Hey man, you got any twos?

The player had gotten super special permission from the DM to play a pseudo-undead race, and he had chosen to make this living skeleton a cleric of the god of death. It was, of course, then completely necessary to walk around in a ragged robe that really did very little to conceal what he was for long, and while carrying a big, obvious weapon. The loud kind of mysterious that is not, in fact, mysterious at all.

This player continually expected to get a big reaction out of this character, and he never did. And that's something I'd like to talk about today, because there are a lot of players (and DMs as well) who seem to forget that when everything is weird, the flip side of that is that nothing is weird.

The Fantastical Mundane

I talked about this over on The Literary Mercenary in Making Use of The Fantastical Mundane in Sci-Fi and Fantasy, but if you didn't catch that when it first came out, the concept is pretty simple. In short, the world you are in decides when something is or isn't unique, strange, or special. If you're in a setting where, for example, magic is rare and wondrous, then just the act of being a magical creature, much less a wizard or a sorcerer, would immediately make you a target of fear and awe. In a setting where magic is everywhere, though, it ceases to be a spectacle. In that sort of setting, sorcerers might be casting spells on street corners for pocket change, and levitating trains might run between cities on the power of ancient runes.

In New York, this is terrifying. In hell, this is Tuesday.

This is something a lot of players sort of forget about when making their characters. Base races, even the notably inhuman ones, aren't some impossible creature that only exists in stories. People have heard of them before, and in more cosmopolitan areas there may be entire neighborhoods of them. Whether you're a six-and-a-half-foot-tall cat person with a massive crossbow over your back, or you're a fuschia-haired, jade-eyed gnome riding around on a floating pink cloud instead of a mount, you might be unusual, but you're still mundane by the standards of the world.

Which is to say that you might get a, "Huh, haven't seen that before," or perhaps some curious questions or funny looks out in the hinterlands, but you're probably not going to cause riots simply by existing the way you would in a low-magic world.

Interesting Characters Are More Than Skin Deep

And we need to explore them over time.

A common mistake that lots of players make is to assume that making a character look weird, frightening, or unusual is the same as making that character interesting. It isn't. A standard human fighter can be the most interesting character in the party, and the drow wizard/assassin might be the most boring... it all depends on what's going on beneath the skin, and how you lead the rest of the party down that path to figure it out.

Let's go back to the overly-grim reaper for a moment.

To add some context to that introduction scene, it was the new PC being introduced to the squad he was going to work with through the adventurer's guild. They were in the middle of a major city, so even though the new guy had never seen a sentient undead before, there were dozens of possible explanations for what this thing was, and why it was here. It was unique, but it was far from unheard of just in the context of what one might see walking down the street in the high magic district.

But the character displayed no unique personality after that initial reveal.

As a cleric who seemed to be the party healer, the player missed a golden opportunity for the others to call him Bones (the age-old nickname for the sawbones). The character, post-reveal, could have offered a bony hand and apologized for the state of himself, but he was in the middle of conducting a service when he got the call to come in and thus was still in his "official" robes/costume rather than something a little more casual. Even something as simple as asking for alignment, deity of choice, and funerary rite preference should the new guy meet a terrible end while on a mission, as disposing of his earthly remains would likely fall to the cleric would have added some personality.

Any of those simple quirks would have instantly made the leper in the room into one of the most interesting characters at the table. Alternatively, if there had been some effort put into genuinely disguising what he was (say, being under a constant illusion spell that he never risked someone seeing through by avoiding physical touch whenever possible, or wearing actual concealing robes, veil, etc. that would have genuinely shrouded him), then it would have been a big surprise when the party realized they'd been traveling with a living skeleton this whole time. Combined with an interesting personality, that sort of long-term reveal could have been really interesting as well. But, alas, it's not what happened.

Solid concept for this game, by the by, so go check it out!

Get Weird (And Go Deep)

To address the other side of this coin, though, there are also a lot of players who claim that by picking a big, loud, colorful, or bizarre class or race that you are inherently less interesting as a character. This comes back to the Stormwind Fallacy (the idea that a mechanically optimized character cannot be roleplayed well, and vice versa), except that this time it's players arguing that the weirder, more unusual, or more inhuman a character is, the less roleplaying there will be as a result of that choice.

I would, instead, argue that the more inhuman, weird, or bizarre a concept or character is, the more opportunities you have to really embrace the things that make them strange and unique as characters.

Don't mind fluffy, he gets me where I'm going, and he's a friendly sort.

From the bizarre habits and comforts that inhuman characters have (such as a tiefling putting hot coals in his mouth to think, or an orc or goblin eating things that would never be acceptable to a human palate), to the bigger implications of their cultures, background, upbringing, and even their age, I fully endorse players getting as weird as a setting will allow and really stretching out into those roles.

As long as you're aware that what makes you interesting isn't the race on your sheet, or the levels you have in a given class. It's what you do with your character's personality, and how you make them stand out in meaningful ways that also bring the characters around them deeper into their orbit, and their story.

For more recommended reading and inspiration, check out some of the following:

- Reveal Details About Your Character Through Flavor-Based Skill Checks A unique strategy for bringing across your character's details, and getting other PCs involved in the process.

- 100 Random Mercenary Companies: If you are, of have been, a mercenary, then you likely carry some specific gear, linguistic quirks, etc. from that life that could make other folks curious about who you served with. Other entries that might provide similar background information include 100 Knightly Orders as well as 100 Gangs For Your Urban Campaigns.

Like, Follow, and Stay in Touch!

That's all for this week's Fluff post! If you've used this in your games, share a story down in the comments!

For more of my work, check out my Vocal archive, and stop by the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio. Or if you'd prefer to read some of my books, like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife or my recent short story collection The Rejects, then head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, and now Pinterest as well! To support my work, consider Buying Me a Ko-Fi, or heading to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron. That one helps ensure you get more Improved Initiative, and it means you'll get my regular, monthly giveaways as a bonus!

Reveal Details About Your Character Through Flavor-Based Skill Checks

There's a struggle that comes with effectively bringing across a character with layers. Making one is hard enough, but peeling back those layers and letting the rest of the table see all the work you did can sometimes feel like grandstanding instead of sharing. And in the spirit of the old writing tip of show, don't tell I thought I'd offer one of my favorite tools to use at the table to pique my fellow players' interest.

Flavor skill checks.

Hey Steve, you've got Knowledge (Nobility) right? Roll me a quick check...

How Does A Flavor Check Work?

Typically the DM is the only one who asks people to roll dice, and even then only if it's something that actually matters. However, much like how a DM might ask for Perception checks to notice little details, or for certain Knowledge rolls to provide hints and tips, you can do the same thing as a player. And often it's a handy way to bring across clues about your character's history without just sitting there and reading everyone your nine-page backstory.

That flourish... I've seen it before. Just can't recall where.

As an example, say you're playing a sorceress who calls herself Elsmere Oaks. Tall and proud, she always dresses in flowing garments, and she's the first to step in to protect the weak. On the surface she seems to be just another adventurer with a good heart, and a unique talent... but there's more to her. A noble girl who was betrothed to a man she hated, she fled her name and her marriage when her powers exploded into being at the dedication feast in her and her spouse's honor... but how do you bring that across in an organic way?

Well, one way to do it is with a flavor skill check.

For example, if she shouts her family's battle cry, "Wine of Victory!" (found in 100 Fantasy Battle Cries (and Their Histories) for those who are curious), that might be a clue for those with a knowledge of history, or nobility, as to her true family name and origin. If a certain type of bloodline is associated with her noble house (and if she casts her spells in a way that suggests she had a tutor rather than figuring them out on her own), those with an appropriate arcana, history, or nobility check might get a clue. If someone catches sight of a signet ring buried in her wallet, or notices that she has rather refined tastes for a wandering adventurer, they might also start to suspect there's more to her than meets the eye.

Giving out your information in this way serves several purposes. First, it avoids telling your fellow players outright all of the behind-the-scenes information about your character, while still giving them clues. Also, by handing it out as a reward to players with certain skills, it makes the clue feel more special. It also turns it into a back-and-forth interaction; their PC noticed something, but what does the other player do with that clue? Do they look a little harder to make another check? Try to be subtle about it in conversation with your character? Ask the rest of the party if they noticed what they noticed? Or do they just walk up and ask point black about it?

These clues should be small things that give hints, which over time allow you to seed your details into your fellow players' hands, and help weave your stories together over time. And, generally speaking, you want to offer a few of them here and there, rather than dropping a big load of them all at once.

Subtlety is The Key, Here

Some details are... less subtle than others.

The whole point of flavor checks is they're meant to be smaller details that provide clues, rather than big baseball bats to hit someone over the head with. While big reveals are definitely cool (such as the Shadow Summoner not revealing her eidolon to her companions until after she's come to trust them because she worries they'll fear or reject her), flavor checks are more for planting seeds that get the rest of the table curious.

A few examples, for those looking for inspiration:

- Koren Fellhand is a broad-shouldered, long-haired man with a thick beard and a full laugh. Those who see him might discount him as a threat due to his wide smile and heavy belly, but the enchanted ring on the middle finger of his left hand marks him as a one-time member of the elite mercenary company the Acolytes of Arannis (found in 100 Random Mercenary Companies). The war wizards who fought beneath those glowing banners could destroy entire legions with a wave of their hands, and though he seems a gentle enough fellow, only those who completed their contract were allowed their rings as a keepsake.

- Therishan Bane: A mahogany-skinned warrior with deep frown lines and a shorn scalp, those who have met Therishan have found her curt, easily-riled, and unpleasant. Those who recognize the winged skull on her sword's guard may find it hard to believe she was ever a member of the Grave Wardens (found in 100 Knightly Orders), but her knowledge of the living dead and how to put them back in the ground speaks to a well of experience she keeps out of sight.

- Cedran Grande is a friendly man with a streak of white through his red hair. Often dressing simply, he always has a pair of iron-studded bracers around his wrists. Those who've caught him without them have seen the brand of the Firehands (found in 100 Gangs For Your Urban Campaigns) that he still carries. Arcane arsonists and deadly enforcers, that doesn't sound like the man his companions have come to know... but the brand is old, the edges blurred from healing, and it's possible that at least some of his acts of charity are driven by a guilty conscience, and a heavy heart.

If you want to have your fellow players make flavor checks, think of specific things they'll notice about your character's word choices, their tattoos, their scars, their gear, their accessories, or even the way they fight, or how their powers work. One little clue can often be the spice that gets others invested in what you're doing, turning it from you telling everyone about your PC into a game where everyone finds out about one another.

Try it... you might like it!

Like, Follow, and Stay in Touch!

That's all for this week's Fluff post! If you've used this in your games, share a story down in the comments!

For more of my work, check out my Vocal archive, and stop by the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio. Or if you'd prefer to read some of my books, like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife or my recent short story collection The Rejects, then head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, and now Pinterest as well! To support my work, consider Buying Me a Ko-Fi, or heading to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron. That one helps ensure you get more Improved Initiative, and it means you'll get my regular, monthly giveaways as a bonus!

Players, Don't Bring Antagonism to The Table

"I'm just saying, if you're going to go into those mines, you're going to need someone tough enough to survive," Durgard said, hefting his tankard.

"And what's that supposed to mean, exactly?" Ventaran asked, folding his arms over his chest.

"Well, I couldn't help but notice," Durgard said, raising his voice along with his mug. "That you've got a pair of pointy-eared thin skins. You want my advice, leave them here in the tavern. Else wise, you may as well be tying a pair of steaks round your neck to bring out the beasts."

"Uh-huh." Ventaran finished his drink, and stood. "Thanks for telling me everything I need to know."

"It's not a worry," Durgard said, grinning. "So, when do we leave?"

"We don't," Ventaran said. "I don't bring big egos on the trail with me. I wish you luck in your travels."

And don't let me catch you trying to follow us.

If You Wouldn't Do It At Work, Don't Do It In-Game

Since last week's Players, Make Sure Your Characters Actually Want To Be Here was so popular, I thought I'd build on that with another piece of hard-earned experience a lot of my fellow players should take to heart. If you get the urge to build a character who's cantankerous, dismissive, prejudiced, or in some cases outright hateful, take a step back for a moment and ask if this is really the first impression you want to make on your new co-workers.

Because if your character isn't worth the trouble (and sometimes even if they are), there's a good chance you're going to find you got left behind at the inn by people who just didn't want to deal with your bullshit anymore.

You want to throw down, greenskin? Huh?

Much like the reluctant hero trope that I covered last week, we see this one everywhere in our fiction. The most famous is probably Gimli and Legolas, but it's also the basis of dozens of buddy cop movies (and you could argue the foundation of that entire genre), as well as a good third of war movies where the brotherhood of arms erases the prejudices of the outside world.

And Remember The Titans, if you're more of a sports film buff.

The issue with characters who come pre-loaded with their own baggage (whether it's the elf racism, or the dismissive sexism, or the constant shit talking to magic users or to non-magic users depending on the character) is that you're walking into a stressful environment, and then ratcheting up that tension even more. It's bad enough that you all need to work together to repulse the goblin raiding parties trying to burn down the village, or stop the plague of undead wreaking havoc on the countryside, you don't need to compound that stress by actively making the rest of the table wonder if they can trust you to do your part, or being so unpleasant to work with that they fantasize about just letting the werewolf eat you if the opportunity presents itself.

You don't have to be sunshine, rainbows, and happy thoughts; just don't bring a character who is a jerk, and then look surprised when other members of the party don't want to deal with you. Because as I said a while back, Make Sure Your Character Is As Fun To Play With, As They Are To Play.

With That Said, Though...

As with all rules, there are exceptions to this. In the case of the antagonistic character, the exception is usually because you want to actually make the character grow past whatever it is that makes them so abrasive, and give them a kind of redemption arc. If you've seen Guardians of The Galaxy Vol. 2, then what we're basically describing is Rocket's arc where he learns to trust people, and to let them become his family rather than pushing them away by being as mean and hurtful as he can.

Yeah, we see through you, big guy.

If you want to do that, then it pays to work it out beforehand with another player. Go back to the example of Gimli and Legolas, and say you want to mimic that in your game. One of you wants to play the dismissive elf, the other the aggressive dwarf. They're both mistrustful of each other, and both of them are prone to needle the other to try to get a reaction. If both of you check with each other beforehand, and confirm with the DM that this won't be a problem, then you are free to play that out and let things develop. Maybe by the end of the first arc, once they've learned how to fight together, they end up sharing drinks, and the dwarf finally admits, "Ah... you're all right, you are," while the elf just smiles, and says, "Three hundred years I've been adventuring... and this is the fastest I've ever come to enjoy a dwarf's company."

It's sort of like a boxing match; both people involved need to give consent for this. Otherwise you're just walking up to someone and punching them in the face, and that's not the experience they signed up for.

Because, as I said before, Remember, The Party is Under No Obligation To Adventure With You. You have full control over your character, and you're the one who decides what they say, and how they act. Do your best to enhance everyone else's fun, rather than being the only one at the table who is enjoying your character concept.

Like, Follow, and Stay in Touch!

That's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday. Hopefully you enjoyed, and if you've used run these kinds of games before, leave us a comment to let us know what worked for you!

For more of my work, check out my Vocal archive, and stop by the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio. Or if you'd prefer to read some of my books, like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife, then head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, and now Pinterest as well! To support my work, consider Buying Me a Ko-Fi, or heading to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron. That one helps ensure you get more Improved Initiative, and it means you'll get my regular, monthly giveaways as a bonus!

DMs, Prevent Murderhobos By Rewarding Alternative Player Strategies

We're all used to hearing from the dungeon masters who complain about the murderhobos at their table. DMs who are trying to run a world with depth, complexity, and meaningful characters, but where the only response from their players seems to be to keep stabbing until either the plot moves forward, or people stop trying to talk at them.

He's a big guy, right? I take his shoes.

While there are numerous reasons that players turn to the life of the murderhobo, there is one thing you can do to help reform them. In some cases it even stops PCs from becoming murderhobos in the first place. The method is simple.

Reward the effort that comes with taking alternative routes, rather than simply making death the quick and easy answer to everything.

Enemies Should Be More Than Mere Mooks

There are going to be some enemies that have no unique characteristics. They have no personality, they aren't important to the story or the world, and they really are here just to have their heads staved in by the PCs. Your automatons, your mindless undead, things like that. However, any time there is a living, breathing creature involved in a combat, you need to signal to players that these characters aren't just targets to be knocked down so they can progress. They're a living, breathing part of the world that can be interacted with in ways other than violence.

It's still AN option, just not THE option.

 

You can lead by example on this, if you want to. For example, rather than just having a gang of outlaws ambush your party while they sleep, have them hail the camp. The leader lets the party know they're surrounded, and they have a choice. They can hand over a tithe (some reasonable amount of gold, typically), and the gang will leave... or if they refuse, then the gang will take everything they have.

Sure, some players are going to just draw steel or cast a spell, drawing all the readied actions coming their way. But others might try to get a dialogue going. To make a deal with the bandits by appealing to their sense of professionalism, by scoffing something like, "I thought the Cardinal's men had honor, yet you approach us like this?", or even by challenging them to single combat. But by opening the scene with dialogue, you've shown these particular bandits are characters. They react like reasonable, rational people, and they're open to suggestions if the party can make something worth their while.

That's a start.

Taking Prisoners, Instead of Taking Heads

Another thing you can do, as a DM, is to institute the Old West rule of bounty hunting, as I call it. If you've seen old-timey Wanted posters, then you know the phrase, "Dead or Alive," that was so famously tacked to the bottom of them. But the thing a lot of folks forget is that the reward for a live capture was often a great deal more than that given for a dead body. And in some cases the reward was entirely contingent on the individual being handed over while they were still alive, and able to stand trial, with no reward for someone who was dead.

Poster don't say nothing about the condition his knees have to be in, though.

 

Take that logic and apply it to early quests in your game. PCs want to get paid, but if killing someone means the reward for them goes up in smoke, then they're going to approach the situation very differently. It will get them thinking about the world, and about how they can win without needing to deliver a death blow. The sheer challenge is why I listed this approach in my 3 Ways To Spice Up Combat in RPGs, but it can have a larger effect than a single mission.

Especially if you plant the seeds just right.

Let's go back to that bandit gang example. Say you've got a low-level party, and they want to claim a reward that's out right now for the Cardinals; a gang of cutthroats and highwaymen who have plagued the area. Rather than just giving the PCs a flat reward for killing all the bandits, change it up. Give them a big reward for bringing in the leader of the gang to stand trial, with a smaller reward for him dead. Give the lieutenants the same treatment. But for the smaller foot soldiers of the gang, there's no reward if they're dead, unless a living prisoner verifies who they were.

Now you've got a challenge on your hands. Because not only do you have to take captives (ideally), but you may need to negotiate with some of them get them to act as your witnesses that their dead comrades-in-arms were actually part of the Cardinals so you can get paid. How do you persuade them to do that? Do you scare them into it with Intimidate checks? Do you talk to these bandits, and find out who they are, and who they used to be? Does the fighter recognize an old army tattoo on one of the prisoners, cajoling him to stand up, and tell the truth like a soldier should? Can the rogue get one of them talking over their soup, finding out that he only joined the outfit to get the money to take care of a wife, or a sick mother? Do they use that knowledge to make a deal with them, agreeing to take some of the proceeds to that bandit's family, if they help them out here and stand witness?

Repercussions For Their Actions

If you set the tone early, then you can give PCs repercussions for their actions... both good and bad.

Valor may be its own reward, but sometimes it helps to sweeten the deal.

 

As an example, say your PCs are trying to stop the bloodshed between a clan of orcs, and a local town. Common setup. While some raiders might be slain, those who are taken prisoner present another opportunity. Can the PCs show their captives that they will treat them with respect and dignity, as enemy combatants are due? Does this improve the attitude of the prisoners (perhaps from hostile to distrustful)? Do they find that the orcs are unique from one another, with some holding forth about the blood debt the town owes them, and others saying this whole thing is just a show because they're hungry and pushed off their land, but pride won't let them just move onto greener pastures... so to speak?

To take it a step further, say that the chieftain's son was among the raiders. A party of murderhobos would see his fine equipment and noted rank (likely as the raid leader), charge him, and kill him. Doing so might make him a martyr, and entrench the orcs that much more deeply. PCs who think to make knowledge checks, and who disable him so he can be captured may find they now have a prisoner who is very valuable... both for the information he possesses, and because he could force the chief to come to the negotiation table so terms for ending this feud can be discussed.

Repercussions can be small things, as well as big ones. Characters who bring in prisoners instead of corpses might find themselves admired and treated as heroes, while those who kill for gold are seen as untrustworthy and dangerous. PCs who pause long enough to find that the rampaging manticore has a toothache might be able to solve the problem without slaying the beast, giving them an opportunity to, if not tame it, then to earn its positive regard. Those who challenge an ogre to a test of strength when it tries to mug them on the road, and who then trick that ogre with some Grimm fairy tales Sleight of Hand shenanigans, may find that other ogres are deferential to them, having heard the tales of the man who squeezed blood from a stone.

And so on, and so forth.

You Get What You Give

To carry through the theme I started with If Your Players Focus On It, Make It Matter, players are going to latch onto the things that reward them. Both in a monetary sense, as I mentioned above, but also in the sense that you show them their actions are having an effect on the game world around them. That what they're doing matters, even if it's in small ways.

Return on investment is the name of the game, here.

 

If you want your players to take actions other than mindlessly killing NPCs, then those other actions need to give them something. Because if you stolidly refuse to have any give-and-take when PCs interrogate prisoners, you insist that all enemies fight to the death like zealots, or you refuse to reward any other course of action, then sooner or later players are going to stop using any other method because they aren't getting anything out of it.

On the other hand, if you show them there are multiple ways to approach a problem, and that the NPCs they deal with have real concerns, real lives, and are still characters in the world, then the PCs are more likely to treat them as such. And when they take actions, play them out. If the PCs try to reform a goblin rogue, throw them a bone for their efforts. Maybe he runs away after a while, but then at a climactic moment returns to stab another enemy in the back because a little glimmer of what the paladin was saying to him actually got through. If the party makes a deal with a crime boss instead of just killing him, develop that relationship. It could become a kind of gentleman's agreement over time, and he could act as a neutral player in the city, rather than just being another mobster to hack on their way up the chain of command.

And so on, and so forth.

This mindset takes some work, and you don't have to go whole hog on it right away. Start small, and keep several NPCs around who have more going on than just enemy #4 in this evening's fight. Lead by example, and show your enemies interacting with the party in different ways; bartering, threatening, cajoling, but doing more than just mindlessly attacking them. It's something a lot of players will pick up on, and you can establish some real back-and-forth once they've got the tune.

And if you're looking for some ready-made NPCs to help get the train rolling, I'd suggest checking out the following:

- 100 Random Bandits To Meet: Whether you want to follow the example I gave above, or you're just looking for more personality for your highwaymen, there's all sorts of thugs and mugs you can use in this supplement.

- 100 Pirates to Encounter: Whether your game is on the high seas, or just near a port town, there's scalawags aplenty to choose from in this collection.

- 100 Prisoners For A Fantasy Jail: Whether the PCs sent them there in the first place, or the game starts off in a prison, there are lots of colorful characters here that can add a dash of danger and intrigue to any game.

Lastly, there is one other thing I'd like to draw your attention to as a DM. The concept of a PC (or even a party) rogues' gallery. As I said in Who's in Your Character's Rogues' Gallery?, the individuals you oppose can define you in important ways. And if your party tries not to just murder every NPC they find (or if they do end up killing someone whose brother, father, mother, lover, etc. swears vengeance), then this can be a particularly useful narrative device.

Like, Follow, and Stay in Touch!

That's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday. Hopefully you enjoyed, and if you've used this tactic successfully in your games why not leave a comment below?

For more of my work, check out my Vocal and Gamers archives, and stop by the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio. Or if you'd prefer to read some of my books, like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife, then head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, and now Pinterest as well! To support my work, consider Buying Me a Ko-Fi, or heading to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron. That one helps ensure you get more Improved Initiative, and it means you'll get my regular, monthly giveaways as a bonus!

Make Sure Your Character Is As Fun To Play With, As They Are To Play

We've all had to deal with that one social event that just ended up becoming too much of a chore to handle. You know, like when you first met up with this group of folks down at the local bar. They got together every Thursday, and had a good time. Then Brian decided to join you. He was Sharon's friend, and you figured you'd give him a chance, but you just don't like him. From the way he drinks too much, to how he can't hold his temper, to how he always expects someone else to cover his tab, he's just not worth the trouble.

At first you just felt more tired than refreshed after your night out. But then you felt actively stressed by it. You started skipping an occasional meeting, and noticing others doing the same. Finally, you just couldn't take it anymore, and made some excuse before you never went back again.

And that, friends, is why I walked away from that table, and never looked back.

Cool story, but what does it have to do with gaming? Everything, since you ask.

Because a lot of us have been Brian. The problem is that because we are having fun, we don't always look around and notice that no one else is. Whether it was that dashing swordsman Jacques who was constantly trying to get into the pants of the rest of the party, the vindictive priest Grumheld who refused to heal anyone unless he'd been praised or bribed, or that sour-faced thief with the cheek scar who never even told anyone his name, but stole everything that wasn't nailed down and blamed the rest of the party for the crimes when he got caught, you got so wrapped up in your own fun that you forgot this is a team sport.

Which is why it's important to look around, and make sure everyone is on the same page as you.

Is Your Character Someone You Want To Spend 4 Hours With?

Have you ever stopped, and asked how much time goes into a campaign? Not on the prep side, but just in how much time you're spending around the table with the rest of the group?

Time to break out the spreadsheets!

Let's be generous, and say that your group meets every other week, and that your sessions are roughly 3 hours long each. That doesn't seem like much, does it? But given that campaigns on that sort of schedule can run for up to two years, let's crunch the numbers.

That's 6 hours a month, 72 hours a year... so roughly 144 hours of exposure time.

Ask yourself if your character is someone the rest of your table wants to put up with for three hours at a time. Then ask if seeing this character month in and month out, and knowing that the player is going to have to deal with someone abrasive, rude, confrontational, or just plain stupid is going to be a good time for them, as well as for you.

Then, if you've identified a problem, find a way around it.

You Can Stay True To Character, And Still Be Fun

This is usually the point at which a lot of players with problematic characters will turn up their nose and demand to know why they should play totally different characters than the one they want to play.

Aside from the fact that ruining everyone else's gaming experience just to get your jollies in makes you kind of an asshole, you don't have to sacrifice your concept to play someone that's sunshine and rainbows all the time. Just file the rough edges off so you aren't constantly pricking everyone else at the table.

If you're going to be a little prick, at least be endearing about it.

If you have someone who is going to be a strain on the rest of the table's patience, the key is to turn that negativity toward the NPCs as much as possible, and to make it clear that even if your character may be hard to like sometimes, he does his job, supports the team, and helps everyone accomplish their goals.

Take your angry, grizzled, confrontational hard case (more commonly referred to as a Wolverine homage). To make this character easier on everyone else, find a reason to be on their team. Maybe you and the paladin go way back, and he saved your life from orcs in that trench, so even though you feel like you're babysitting most of this group, you still respect him enough to try to keep this team alive. Maybe the tough exterior shows a crack or two when one of your team goes down, and you go into a frenzy to save them before dropping to your knees to provide first aid, swearing a blue streak about how no one dies on your goddamn watch. Not anymore. Or perhaps when the wizard saves your bacon with a well-timed lightning bolt, you buy him a drink and give him a gap-toothed smile before telling him, "Ah, I guess you're all right for a wand-flicker."

You can use this same logic on any concept that causes friction at the table. Your thief's light fingers causing a problem? Make it a point that he never steals from anyone he works with. You could even give him an honesty streak, or make it a pride thing so that he would never even consider letting someone else take credit for his jobs... even the botched ones. Is your half-orc with rage issues causing too many messes? Consider that he's in a different culture, and he needs to understand how issues like this are solved here. Talk to a fellow party member and run a whole sub-plot where Garag Skull-Cleaver learns that the law of the jungle does not apply in towns, and he needs to learn the laws of this new land if he is to be a champion here. Or make him more child-like than actively aggressive, looking to his party members for the sign that it's time to play the fight game.

Whatever it is, make it so that the rest of the table can get in on the action. Whether it's, "crotchety grandpa dwarf decides we're all his adopted kids now," or, "Krunk learns to use his words," or, "that one time Black Fingers decided to steal presents for friends who couldn't afford them," the key is to make it so that it's not just you having fun and everyone else dealing with the fallout. Be a catalyst that lets everyone play as a group, and you'll find that your table will not be able to get enough of your characters; even the grim, dark, foreboding, or brutal ones.

If you enjoyed this, then you might also want to check out:
- 5 RPG Characters We Should All Stop Playing
- 5 MORE RPG Characters We Should All Stop Playing

That's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday installment. Hopefully it got some wheels out there turning. Anyone else have actionable tips? If so, leave them in the comments below!

For more of my work, check out my Vocal and Gamers archives, and head over to the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio! Also, to check out books like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife, make sure to stop by My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my updates, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. And to help support me, consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi, or going to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron. Seriously, it's the best way to make sure I keep getting content just like this from my hands, to your screen!

The First Rule of Improv Often Applies to RPGs

Improv theater, for those who've never seen stuff like Whose Line Is It Anyway?, is a kind of theater where actors get together, and start making stuff up off the cuff. Sometimes the actors are given a prompt from the audience, a general theme, or a prop they have to incorporate, but there's generally no script, and nothing is figured out in advance. In many ways it's similar to what happens around the table when we sit down with our sheets and our funny shaped dice. And there is a single rule that makes improv work, and which can help everything around the table move more smoothly.

Never say no.

With so many possibilities, don't walk around shutting doors.

"No" Kills Pace

If you watch improv, then you'll see that everything a performer adds to the scene is now canon. If one person declares it's Sunday in the scene, then it's Sunday in the scene. If someone says they're getting a call, then they're getting a call. And if someone asks how your character's trip to Montego Bay went, then you definitely took that trip (or, at least, you told them you were).

No matter how odd, unusual, or silly stuff gets, the only real ironclad rule of imrpov is that you don't say no. You can alter, modify, or mess with things as they currently exist in the scene, and you can invent new stuff, but at no point can you fold your arms and refuse to continue onward. Because to do that will completely destroy the suspension of disbelief that makes the improv work, and it brings the all-important flow to a screeching halt.

Often with disastrous results.

So, the next time you sit down, remind yourself that your game needs to go forward. And the only way for you (and the rest of the table) to go forward is by agreeing to participate in the scenario. If you ever find the phrase, "But my character wouldn't do that," rising to your lips, stop, and re-examine the scenario. Find a reason for your PC to participate.

Playing a selfish jerk who is thinking about refusing the request to do some pro-bono monster hunting to save an orphanage? Well, you may suddenly discover that this character has a soft spot for abandoned children, and he's willing to go to the mat for these kids so they don't have to face what he did when his parents were killed. Got yourself a hard case who thinks that going to the ball is a load of fru-fru bullshit? Ask if there's someone there he'd like to impress. Or, failing that, remind him that it's a party full of free food and alcohol. The sort of rich stuff only people with money can afford, as opposed to the hogwash down at the dive you've been hanging out in.

And so on, and so forth.

Your characters are under your control. Find a reason, and go forward. Otherwise it's like the DM pointed you at a door, and you refused to walk through it. Nothing is going to happen until you kick it open.

Also, beware The Dangers Of The Phrase "I'm Just Playing My Character".

The Other Side of This Coin

With that said, it's important to remember that player agency is still very much a thing at the table. Which is why it's best for a DM to describe and present, without taking actions on behalf of the players, as I laid out in Some Thoughts On Player Agency.

Put another way, if you're the DM, present the players with the door. Trust that they will walk through it on their own, without telling you, "No." Because they have to be given a choice, otherwise you're just telling a story at them, which isn't fun. Preserve the back-and-forth, and everyone will be happier for it.

That's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday update. Hopefully there are some folks out there who found it to be helpful. For folks who'd like to see more of my work, check out my Vocal archive (particularly my Gamers page), or stop by the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio where I help out from time to time. To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. Lastly, if you want to help support me and my work, then either become a patron over at The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page, or Buy Me A Ko-Fi! Either way, some sweet gaming swag will be yours as a thanks for your help.

Do Clothes Make The Adventurer?

The man sitting in the chair near the fire in the common room needed no introduction, if one had eyes to read the signs. His surcoat was green velvet, finely cared for and tailored to his frame. The shirt beneath was silk, the cuff links glittering with emerald chips. His boots were well-made, and had been re-soled a time or two. Most tellingly, though, was the symbol that adorned his breast. A black heart, with a fire burning inside it. That badge, combined with the signet ring on his right hand, marked him as the Maester Arcanum to Lord Blackburn. A man, and a position, not to be trifled with lightly.

Don't even get me started on his bodyguard...

We've all had those moments when we sit down at a table, and describe to the other players what our PC looks like. Problem is, most of the time it sounds like a police description rather than a heroic introduction. We get ethnicity, race, hair and eye color, height, weight, and general description of what they're wearing and carrying. Which gets the point across, but it paints a pretty flat image overall. So if you want your PC to stand out, look at what they're wearing. Now give it a little personality, and maybe an Easter egg or two for the people with Knowledge skills to roll.

Going Beyond The Basics

What you wear says something about you, but the devil is in the details. For example, say your PC is a man with a shaved head, wearing a brown robe, and walking with a staff. Sure, that tells us the broad strokes, but what else do we notice? Is the robe a rough weave, indicating it was made by hand for utility rather than looks? Is it new, or old? Does it fit well, or was it made as a kind of one-size-fits-all garment? Does it have any adornment, such as a cloak clasp on the chest, or large pockets in the front? What about his footwear? Does he wear pants with the robe, or is that his only garment?

Once you have the answers to those questions, ask what the sum of those answers means. Is this the way peasants and farmers dress in the outlying provinces of a particular nation? Or is this the uniform of an order of monks who wear only plain, functional clothes? Or is dressing like this the mark of a pilgrim, showing that this person is likely on a religious journey? Or an arcane tradition that focuses on the ephemeral and internal by eschewing luxuries?

And how well-recognized is this attire by those who see you?

Everything your character wears tells a story, if you include the right details. As an example, you might have a big man dressed in fine clothes, and wearing rings and jewelry. However, the fine clothes don't fit him well, and he looks uncomfortable in them. If you combine that with a rougher manner of speech, scars, and sword-calloused hands, then you may have someone who's been knighted, but who was clearly not born to the aristocracy. You could also have the reverse, where the one-eyed mercenary in the ragged cloak speaks just a little too well to have been born and raised as a common sellsword.

That particular tell shows up more than once in my 100 Random Bandits to Meet list, for DMs wondering where they could incorporate those moments of surprise insight.

It's Not Just What You Wear, It's How You Wear It

There are a thousand little details in what your character wears and carries that you can use to help make it clear who they are. For example, say your character openly wears a rapier and dagger. Those choices of weapon make a statement, but what are the nuances beneath the obvious? Are the hilts fancy, or common? What sort of guards do they have? Do the weapons bear a maker's mark? Do you wear them forward on your hips, or back? Or do you wear the sword at your hip, and the dagger in an underarm brace for a faster, cross-draw? And are any of those things indicative of where the weapons came from, the style of fighting the character uses, or membership in any particular groups?

Every style tells a different tale.

The same is true for your armor, your jackets, your jewelry, and your other accessories; what do they say about you?

To help get your gears going, I'll give you a few more examples.

- Jerran Vand is easy enough to spot in a crowd, with her white breeches and cape. Cut high and tight, she strikes a dramatic figure. However, it's the braided red leather of her sword belt that gives most pause. The white marks her as a student of the Damari sword guild, but that belt names her a city champion who has blooded some of the most dangerous swordsmen ever to step in the square.

- Dane Hardwell looks exactly the way a man-at-arms should look. His tabard is clean, his boots shined, and his belt always square. His armor is always polished to a parade shine, and his face clean-shaven. It isn't all for show, though. Anyone who notices the medals stamped along his paldrons can tell at a glance that this man has seen his share of battles, and survived to tell the tale.

- Farran Emberwell is a squat, broad dwarf. Though he dresses in workman's leathers and wool, making him look almost like a common laborer, he wears a pair of ruby rings on the third finger of each hand. Those rings, clearly marked with the seals of Arendale, declare him a Master Transmuter.

You can include as many, or as few, of these details as you want. But before you tell the table that your PC is a tall human wearing a chain shirt and carrying a short sword, stop and ask for more specifics. What kind of chain is it, and is it being hidden or worn openly? What else is he wearing in terms of accessories? Does he have a hat? Ear rings? Bracers? A necklace? And what, if anything, do the things he's wearing say about his past, his religious beliefs, his status, or his membership in any organizations legal, illegal, or otherwise?

For other thoughts on how you can get more specific with your character's looks and habits, check out What Is Your Character's Everyday Carry? (And What Does It Say About Them?) and What Do Your Characters Eat?

That's all for this week's Fluff update. Hopefully it got your wheels turning, and you're thinking about what your character's outfits, accessories, etc. actually say about them. For more content from yours truly, check out my Vocal archive, or head over to the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio where I and other gamers put together all kinds of different videos. If you want to keep up-to-date on my latest releases, then follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. Lastly, to help support Improved Initiative, head over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron. Or click this link to Buy Me A Coffee! Either way, I'll send you some sweet gaming swag as a thank you for your help!

And if you've got a hankering for a new book, you could head to My Amazon Author Page to check out books like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife!