Like a lot of gamers, I came into the tabletop RPG hobby through what was then the current edition of Dungeons and Dragons. This was right around the time that 3.0 was making its transition to 3.5, for those of you looking to construct a timeline. I'd had brushes with funny-shaped dice and narrative gaming before, but that was when I really committed to the hobby.
It wasn't long after that my dice collection began to become... an issue.
Also like most gamers, the longer I was in the hobby, the more games I discovered. The World of Darkness got its reinvention not long after I became aware of it (the games now referred to as the Chronicles of Darkness for those feeling confused), and several groups I played with ran stuff like BattleTech, Call of Cthulhu, and in one night of zany experimentation, Paranoia. And one of my clearest memories as a gamer was when Wizards of the Coast brought out the 4th Edition of DND.
Like a lot of gamers who'd gone all-in on 3.5, I hated 4th Edition. I felt the lack of customization was a major flaw, and I disliked how it felt more like an MMO or a minis war game than the sort of RPG I was used to. My group all shared the same opinion, and we decided to stick to 3.5 until we found something we liked better. Which we did when Paizo released Pathfinder. It was everything we liked, plus some extra wooge, and we couldn't have been happier.
I Told You That Story So I Could Tell You This Story...
The reason I told you all of that is to establish that for the first decade or so of my gaming career, I was a gamer who found that most of my wants and needs were in sync with the broader strokes of what was popular in the hobby. I came in when the dominant game design philosophy was to make games that focused on giving players the ability to fully customize their characters, and where the DMs had to do the minimal amount of improvisation regarding common rules (there were charts and scales for falling damage, weather, monsters and traps were fully statted out, skills had specific thresholds and modifier, etc.).
However, over the past several years as both a player and a designer I have noticed that the pendulum is definitely swinging the other way now. 5th Edition Dungeons and Dragons came back hard from 4th Edition's failure, and gobbled up a huge amount of the market. Thanks to shows like Stranger Things, simpler editions of DND are coming back in vogue. And, generally speaking, the market is filling up with games that have a lot fewer moving parts, and which require a lot less investment and time on the part of players and storytellers alike.
Just what the hell is going on here?
There are a lot of reasons for this. One is that with gaming's increased accessibility, gamers are reaching for the editions they see in their favorite shows (Critical Role, in particular, I hold responsible for a portion of 5th Edition's booming fan base). Another is that more gamers are adults, and adults with jobs (and sometimes kids of their own) don't typically have hours upon hours to dedicated to learning labyrinthine, complicated storytelling systems. When you add in that lots of games are also geared toward shorter campaigns, and even one-shots (I'm looking at you, Dread), the market is clearly changing to fit a much different audience. And since shorter, less complicated games require a lot less work to make, they're popping up in greater numbers.
This is a gaming demographic I'm not part of.
This is frustrating both as a gamer, and as a game designer (though in my defense I'm stretching out and following the curve with 5th Edition DND modules like False Valor and The Curse of Sapphire Lake), but meditating on it has lent some clarity. Once upon a time the things I liked in games were popular, and that drove profit margins. Now my style of game is less popular, and as a result there are fewer companies putting out the type of content that I enjoy. That's not a slight against me, that's just how the free market works; if there were more gamers in the hobby who wanted what I want, it's what companies would produce.
And that's fine (at least personally; professionally it's a different kettle of fish). I am under no obligation to buy the games being produced if they're not the sort of things I want to play. No one is going to make me move on to Pathfinder's second edition, or Dungeons and Dragons' fifth, in the same way that no one forced Vampire: The Masquerade players to move onto Requiem when it was released. The games I like still exist, and I have full control over what I play in my own time. We all do.
With That Said... Let People Enjoy Things
Having said all of that, not liking something doesn't mean that you should volunteer your opinion in places where it isn't wanted. If people are talking about their latest campaign, and your only contribution isto disparage the edition or system they're using, just shut up. Move on from that conversation, because it's not for you, and no one is asking for your input.
"In my day, natural tharks weren't an auto-success!"
As geeks and gamers (particularly those who are used to being the dominant audience), we occasionally get confused and think that other people beyond the folks we play with care what we think. We fall into that trap where we mistake not being catered to with having our interests ignored, and too often we end up trying to spread that negativity around. Like how grown men will rail against the popularity of boy bands or romance novels just because something that isn't made for them is popular and successful.
So the next time you get ready to hold forth about something you don't like that's popular in gaming, or how this or that group who's clearly having fun is contributing to the popularity of the "wrong" kinds of games, take a moment and ask if anyone solicited your opinion. If you were specifically asked to share, consider whether what you're about to say will have a positive impact on those who hear your words.
Take my advice on this one; your games of choice will not get more popular if you shout about how they're superior to all the stuff people are playing and enjoying now. Instead, make a pitch for what your games do that other games don't. Put on your salesman's cap, and hold the door open for gamers who may not have heard of your favored system, or preferred edition. Be an ambassador who persuades those watching to give your style of gaming a try.
Because in this instance, you will catch far more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.
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That's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday.
Hopefully you found this suggestions useful!
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 latest short story collection The Rejects, then head over to My Amazon Author Page!
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About two years and change ago, I wrote a post titled The 5 RPG Characters We Should All Stop Playing. I'd written some controversial posts before, but that particular piece exploded. Once the initial furor died down, little brush fires would start up from time to time when it got re-discovered and re-debated by people. Then Nerdarchy gave me a shout-out last year, basing a fairly popular episode on the five characters I put forth, and the resulting explosion made that piece my most-visited post ever.
Thanks again, guys!
I've been thinking on the concept of disruptive, frustrating, and all-around trying characters again, though. So I thought it was time to create a follow-up to that original piece, and talk about 5 more concepts that I would be glad to never see again... as well as some advice for making them functional, if you insist upon them.
"Hey, Varas, have you seen my-" Gold? No, why? You think I stole it? I didn't, no one saw me!
Thieves have a long and storied place, both in the genre of fantasy as well as in tabletop RPGs. It was even the granddaddy of the rogue, for those who've been playing that long. There are some characters, though, who are not thieves in the professional sense of the term. They're kleptos. These characters must steal everything. This includes goods they could actually afford, the treasure they find in dungeons, and even the purses and backpacks of their companions while they sleep.
Some players think this concept is hilarious, and anyone who doesn't see the joke is clearly just a stick in the mud who doesn't know how to have fun. If the DM protects this character from having his hands cut off, it often sours the rest of the table. And if his victims are allowed to pay him back for his acts? Well, that often leads to a sulky player.
This is why so many DMs don't allow you to play a kender.
But If You're Going To Do It Anyway...
Just be a thief. There's nothing wrong with being a thief, and a party can really benefit from having someone who's light-fingered at the right time.
"At the right time" being the key phrase.
Generally speaking, this means that your fellow party members, friendly NPCs, and your allies, are off-limits. For maximum efficiency, only steal objects that are valuable, and only do it when it would have an impact on the game. Swiping a few coppers from the drunk at the bar isn't really worth the time or effort. Palming the dungeon key from your jailer, though, is something that will earn you a great many thanks from your fellow party members who would like to just walk out of their cell.
#2: The Proselytizer
"Excuse me, have you heard the good word?" Only a thousand times, Jerry.
There is an urge to model the fantastical off of the familiar. And when we attempt to model characters who genuinely believe they have been chosen to do the will of the gods, and that they are on the side of good and truth, we end up with a bunch of sanctimonious, stuck-up, self-righteous killjoys for some reason.
Paladins, clerics, and other servants of the divine come in a thousand different flavors. From the pious to the quiet, from the brooding to the jolly... but there is always that one character who wants to do nothing but tell you their good word. Who wants you to listen to them sermonize, who wants you to pray with them, and who will often withhold their aid from you if you choose to act in a way that runs counter to their own faith.
Whether it's the holy knight who guilt trips her companions who choose to celebrate with wine, or the cleric who shames his party-mates as they come out of the brothel, you are not winning any friends among the table.
But If You're Going To Do It Anyway...
There is something admirable about someone who sticks to their own beliefs, despite temptation. The key to remember, here, is that your vows, your oaths, and your faith are yours. So if those vows aren't actually compromised by the company you're keeping (if you are a servant of the light, your god might frown on you for keeping company with Blitzrock Baby-Eater, for example), don't make a big deal out of who the rest of the table chooses to play.
By all means, roleplay your discussions about religion. Have long philosophical talks about the meaning of good and evil in your fantasy setting. If other members of the party follow your god as well, then discuss the vows you took, and the proper path you should follow. But if your faith declares you must give your wealth to the poor, or only eat simple meals, or do Crossfit every third Saturday, don't nag everyone else for not following your restrictions. Especially if them not following your restrictions doesn't actually hurt you in any way (losing your powers, being expelled from the church, etc., etc.)
#3: The Murder Machine
"Afternoon, sir! A fine day for-" I bury my ax in the innkeeper's face!
Combat is a healthy chunk of any RPG. Even in situations where you're trying to pull off a bloodless heist, or orchestrate a political coupe, there's always the chance that swords come out, and blood is spilled. However, there are some characters who exist only to leave a wake of destruction and death behind them. Every merchant they've ever met, every town guard who ever asked them their business in the city, and every bartender who ever asked what they were drinking was met with death threats... if the character bothered to speak at all before just running them through.
There is some exaggeration here, but if you've been round the gaming block before, you know a Murder Machine when you see one. Likely because you're constantly trying to stop them from pulling steel, or slinging spells, as a response to anything resembling conversation openers from an NPC.
But If You're Going To Do It Anyway...
The concept of a character who only comes alive in battle (or one who only feels comfortable there, since they know the rules of combat) is one that's quite common in a lot of different genres. But if you're going that route, you still need to flesh out who your character is off the battlefield, and what triggers their aggression response. Are they a socially-awkward hulk who gets angry when people laugh at them, so he tends to brood and glare in silence unless someone actively puts in the effort to get past his outer defenses? Is she paranoid, seeing violence or the threat of violence as the only thing that keeps those around her honest, and preventing them from thinking she's weak? Or does this character deal with a bloodlust that has to be slaked, which is why they don't come near civilized places unless they've had enough battle to get it out of their system?
There are all kinds of options, and all sorts of characters, that fit this mold. From warriors on a hair-trigger, to formerly brainwashed bodyguards, to sorcerers who have trouble controlling their tempers along with their powers, the easiest way to avoid going too far and becoming a Murder Machine is to make sure there is always a method to when your character decides that violence is necessary. And to make sure they have personality and presence when initiative is over, and it's time to play the rest of the game.
#4: The Square Peg
A dozen books full of character options... and this is the one you chose?
RPGs are a group-oriented activity. Everyone makes their avatar, and comes together to tell a cooperative story... but it only works if everyone is willing to work together. A square peg character, though, does not fit the game. Whether it's conceptually, or in the execution, it does not matter how hard you hammer that peg, it is not going to fit.
Anyone who's played for a while has examples of this one. Whether it's the sadistic, demon-worshiping child torturer who tried to join the party of holy warriors, the paladin plunked down in the middle of a gang of thieves and assassins, or the light-hearted bard who showed up to the grimdark game, these characters are like a sour note. It's like the player behind them is off in a totally separate game that no one else is playing, and it wears pretty thin pretty fast.
But If You're Going To Do It Anyway...
The easiest way to fix a square peg is to simply shave off the corners until it fits in the round hole. As an example, say you are the monster who tries to sign up with the party of holy warriors. You could be a repentant villain, attempting to undo your past wrongs with the skills you learned before your change of heart. Or you could take a few precautions to keep your wickedness hidden, ensuring your companions don't instantly sniff you out. If you're a bastion of law, but you find yourself surrounded by thieves and killers, ask how you came to be there? Do you attempt to use diplomacy and intimidation on their behalf, lowering the body count and achieving real results so that no one has to get hurt? Or have you turned your back on righteousness, and you're going your own way now?
And if you're the light-hearted minstrel in a world full of darkness and terrors, the easiest way to fit is to squat down in the mud and blood with your companions, light up a smoke, and drop your performer's cheer for a moment. Take a deep drag, and talk about how hard it is trying to keep the light burning in people's hearts when you live in a world full of rain. But someone's got to do it, and you're pretty sure they don't know how to handle a mandolin.
The core concept of most of these characters can be preserved, while shaping them to fit the game you're actually playing. But remember, not every character will fit in every game.
#5: The Rando
"My elf jumps off the bridge." But why would he- "Did I stutter!?"
Random chance plays a huge part in any given game. It determines how persuasive the judge finds your arguments, whether your shafts strike your enemy in the heart, and whether you manage to fight off that cold you contracted on the trail. But there are some characters who seem completely determined by the whims of chance. Everything, from how they feel when they wake up in the morning, to who they're friendly toward, to which enemy they attack in battle, is decided with a roll of the die.
This is both annoying, and potentially hazardous to the other characters, as well as the overall plot.
But If You're Going To Do It Anyway...
Don't... just don't.
As I said with The Misanthrope in the first installment, this kind of character doesn't need to just be played a certain way; it's incomplete. Whether you're actually rolling a d20 to determine every action the character takes, or you're choosing to make them behave in a truly random manner (not impulsive, or silly, but outright nonsensical) just stop. Sit down, and create a character who has reasons for their behavior, who has motivations, goals, drives, and a purpose.
That is not to say you cannot play the fool (such as someone who feigns getting absolutely fall-down drunk before an important mission, or whose zany antics are actually a cover for a cunning strategy), or that you must be serious all the time. Characters are people, and like people they can be complex or simple, clever or stupid, brave or cowardly... but the thing they have to be most is consistent. So figure out who your character is, and what makes sense for them to say, do, think, or believe according to the core of who they actually are.
That's all for this week's installment of Moon Pope Monday. Sorry it was a little late, but I was on the road most of yesterday, and didn't have time to sit down and bang this one out. For more of my work, check out my Vocal archive (especially my Gamers page), or stop by the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio where I help out in bringing Evora to life. 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, head over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page or consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi!
The Internet is chock full of advice when it comes to roleplaying games. Whether you're looking for rules combinations, character conversions, guides, clarifications, or just suggestions for creating atmosphere, or getting into character, you can find it out there. Regardless of the system you're playing, or the kind of tone you're going for, you're bound to find at least a few bloggers, vloggers, and industry voices you agree with. You're also likely to find several you disagree with. It is, in fact, likely for you to find a lot of people you disagree rather strongly with. Which is why, this Monday, I'd like to remind everyone out there of the silent mantra when it comes to reading RPG blogs, watching channels, reading articles, or just talking in forums and on social media.
Now, repeat after the Goat of Silliness...
The mantra goes something like this. "If I don't agree with this content, then clearly it's not meant for me, or my game."
That's it. Just a simple, silent sentiment that we should always tack to any article we disagree with when it comes to gaming.
RPGs Are Not A Zero Sum Game
I bring this up because I spend a lot of time online talking about RPGs. Whether I'm promoting my own blog posts, or those of a fellow creator, or just answering questions or joining discussions, I spend several hours a day up to my elbows talking about my favorite games. And, as anyone who spends time on social media knows, there are bound to be disagreements. Sometimes it's over a rules interpretation, and other times it's over whether or not a certain class is bound to certain styles of play. Sometimes it's just asking if something is technically possible, according to the game rules.
Now, I'm going to make the following statements from the calmest portion of my soap box that I have. Suggesting a certain way to play is not demanding that everyone play that way. Pointing out that a rule works a certain way in the game does not preclude your table from altering that rule when you play the game.
Unless someone specifically says, "this is the only way to play this aspect of the game, and if you do it differently, then you're doing it wrong," then no one is "calling you out" for having "wrong, bad fun."
Play how you want, you mad bastards.
However, if you feel the need to demand that someone else stop telling you how to play the game, and you want to sling a comment about how the, "fun police," have found your thread, take a moment, and repeat the silent mantra to yourself. Then, if you feel so compelled, re-read the thing that upset you, and ask if it is, in fact, demanding that all players play the game in a single way. If it isn't, and is simply pointing out the language of a rule, making a suggestion on how a given class could be run, or stating that at this particular person's table, X, Y, or Z are the order of the day, then scroll on along.
So What's Your Point?
What's the point of this post? To get my fellow gamers, and members of the community, to stop using the accusation of someone calling you out for, "wrong, bad fun," the same way that people with unpopular views will scream about their, "freedom of speech," or about how everyone's so, "politically correct," when the criticism starts rolling their way. Someone telling you that your interpretation of the rules is directly against the game's errata, and thus that you have house-ruled things to be different, is not an attack on you. That's just a statement. Someone pointing out that barbarians can be from big cities, or that wizards don't have to go to universities, isn't accusing you of playing the game incorrectly. They're just pointing out that there are other ways to do things.
You like the way you're doing them? Beautiful! Shine on, and happy trails. But if you're going to get involved in discussions, talk about the issue at hand. Don't just raise a criticism shield and claim someone's trying to censor your fun.
Well, that's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday post. Hopefully you enjoyed what I had to say, and even if you didn't enjoy it, that you still found something worth taking away from this particular post. If you'd like to help support Improved Initiative, then just stop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to toss a few bills in my jar. No pledge is too low, and if you pledge at least $1 a month I have a free book with your name on it! Well, my name is on it, but you get the picture. Lastly, if you haven't followed me on Facebook, Tumblr, or Twitter yet, what's the hold-up?
As folks have noticed, when I'm not talking about RPGs themselves, I tend to talk about how we think about them. The language we use to describe our games, and what themes can expand or contract a game's focus, are some of my favorite topics. In fact, posts like Sexuality Matters in RPGs (And Here's Why) and Calm Down, No One is Taking Your Games Away are some of my most popular articles. So, since it's Monday, I thought I'd take the opportunity to talk about something related to gaming, that isn't gaming itself.
In short, I would like to ask that all of us stop making appeals to fun as a way to try and win an argument, or to end a conversation whenever we're online and trying to score debate points.
Appeals to Fun (And Why They're Useless)
The entire point of playing RPGs is to have fun, and tell a story. If you're not having fun, chances are good you're going to quit playing, or find another game that fulfills your needs. However, an "appeal to fun" is something that shows up in conversations about RPGs, not in the games themselves.
And, since examples work best when illustrating a point, I'll use one for you.
Oh good, I was in danger of getting confused.
Let's say we're on a Facebook group dedicated to Pathfinder. A conversation springs up about mental health in adventurers. They have to face awful dangers, and they're often subjected to terrible stresses. Post-traumatic stress disorder seems like a surefire condition many of them might suffer from, though it's far from the only condition that might crop up. Alcoholism, drug addiction, violent acting out, and other symptoms are also discussed. Other people get in on the conversation, either arguing for or against why certain conditions would or wouldn't affect certain races, or whether or not magical treatment would be effective when it came to mental disorders.
And then, in the midst of discussion around this topic, someone chimes in with, "why are you getting so involved in this? It's a game, forget all of this and just have fun already!"
The problem with this sort of statement is that, clearly, someone is having fun with this idea. For some players, the idea of having to face serious repercussions for violent lives, and losing limbs and companions along the way, is engaging. It's the sort of thing they think will improve their roleplaying experience. For other players that aspect of the game might be a downer, getting in the way of what they consider to be the fun part of the game (the power fantasy that comes with slaying dragons and fighting gods, for example). Just as some players will dive face first into cosmic horror, or grimdark sci-fi, other players want something uplifting, or even funny, for their game's tone.
Most of the time when someone says, "just go have fun," what they mean is, "go have my kind of fun."
If It's Not Your Game, Walk Away
The definition of fun will change from one person to another. There is no single activity that everyone will enjoy. So if you're the sort of person who likes to relax with a book and your cat, you do you. If your friend likes to get hammered at the bars while belting our karaoke, good for him. But if your friend tries to get you to come along for his kind of fun, and you don't want to, telling you that if you go out with him you'll experience real fun is a massive logical fallacy. Just because you love something, that doesn't mean anyone else shares your opinion.
The sword is so you can fight off the hangover in the morning.
So the next time you're reading a conversation about gaming, and you think the people having this discussion are somehow missing the point, or they're more focused on rules or tone than having fun, remember this; for some people, that is the fun part.
If you don't have anything to actually contribute to the conversation, keep scrolling. Seriously, it will make your life so much easier, and the people who are actively engaged in what they're doing won't have to deal with comments from people who just want to step in, shout, "you're gaming wrong," before they leave again.
As always, I hope you enjoyed this Moon Pope Monday post. If you'd like to help keep Improved Initiative going, then why not drop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page? As little as $1 a month will help me keep producing content, and it will get you some sweet swag. Lastly, if you haven't done so yet, why not follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter?
