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.

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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!

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