If you’ve been reading my blog for some time now, then you know that I am an avid player of Dungeons & Dragons. I started playing D&D when I was in high school and was instantly sold on the idea. My brother served as the Dungeon Master (DM) for his friends and me, and it was a great time. Despite the general enjoyment, his friends were pretty flaky and I wanted to introduce the game to my own circle of friends. Back then, the official Dungeons & Dragons game was on edition 3.5, but I soon got deep into the world of home-brewing. I played in and expanded my home-brewed setting for the next ten years, and it eventually evolved into the setting for my fantasy novels. After running my final campaign, I decided it was time to venture back into the official realm. I had been playing as a character in a friend’s 5th edition game, and was impressed with the new rule system. I’ve spent the past several years as both a player and DM in home-brew settings with 5e rules, and it’s been great. After fourteen years of playing as both DM and PC, I’ve got a few tips to pass on for what I see as optimum gameplay.
The three pillars of D&D, as espoused in the 5th edition, are socialization, exploration, and combat. I wholeheartedly agree with the equal footing on which these three aspects of the game have been placed, but I would clarify that they support the ultimate goal of story. D&D, as with all role-playing games, are story-centric. The mechanics of D&D combat are fun, but would lose all sense of purpose if divorced from story. If one reduced all players and monsters to nameless stat blocks, the fun of combat is reduced to a math problem. D&D is collective storytelling. We tell stories about our PCs, NPCs, and about the world in which they live. Even without an over-arching plot or campaign, story is still essential to the proper function of D&D.
Writing for D&D is very different than writing a novel. It can be used as a kind of cross-training, but ultimately the process is different. When writing a novel, everything is at the service of the plot. If my protagonist enters a village, I will only develop those characters with which he will interact. As the one who controls and predicts the actions of my protagonist, it is fairly simple to know where he will go and what he will do. It’s true that sometimes he might lead me in a different direction than I originally intended, but I can always stop writing to develop this new path onto which he has tread. With D&D, there are multiple characters working together to fulfill designs that did not originate in my mind. When they step off the path, there is no pausing, there is only improvisation.
To curtail the possible chaos introduced by freewill, I talk to my players to find out where they want to go and what they want to do so that I can prepare accordingly. Conversely, my players go to the places that are prepared for them, and take the quests that are offered. Some players occasionally like to make the DM sweat by willfully going away from the intended direction. These are bad players. A better story will always be produced by cooperation between players and DM, and many hard feelings will be avoided. There is no “winning” in D&D or “beating” the DM or players. There is only the crafting of something beautiful and enjoyable for everyone to experience.
The most essential practice that I have found for the nourishing of good story is the writing of good backstories. Traditionally, a player constructs a background for their character, an origin story that tells where they come from and where they’re going. These are essential. Players that don’t build backstories ultimately have less fun and cause the group to have less fun because they are compromising the cooperative story. In the same vein, a DM should help players with the construction of their backstories. Some players will come to the first session with a whole novella of backstory and they only need approval of their ideas. The ones that don’t construct any backstory should be helped in authoring one. I’ve found that they generally do have ideas, they just need to be prodded to form them into something intelligible.
Just as playable characters need a backstory, non-playable characters should be equally fleshed out. This is a classic mistake that DMs make, principally because it seems daunting to give every NPC a thought-out backstory. Every NPCs doesn’t need to have a written history, but their “humanity” is equal to that of the PC. They should have their own desires, beliefs, and fears that exist beyond the service of the PCs. Taking the time to give the NPC a real name is a big part of giving them an identity. When we use placeholder names, we communicate to ourselves and the players that this NPC is just a placeholder. Bad NPCs actively detract from the story by undermining the pillar of socialization. When a PC is socializing with an NPC that I haven’t developed beforehand, I mimic a person I know or a character from some media with which I’m familiar. Mimicking a developed person or character is an easy way to produce depth on demand so that the story can move smoothly forward.
One issue with socialization in D&D is that we should expect NPCs to occasionally deceive the players. Deception is a common part of socialization in the real world, so it should be reflected in our fantasy setting. However, we must remember that D&D is cooperative storytelling and meant to be fun for everyone. Players must have an opportunity to see through the deception, even if their characters are oblivious. The willingness with which good players bite on plot hooks is something to cherish, not to punish. If players think that their agency is being taken away, they will rebel against the DM’s construct and create a hostile atmosphere. Deception in the game is meant to trick the characters, not the players. I like to provide my players with repeated hints as to the truth of a situation, though their characters will likely be operating on far less. Good players will avoid meta-gaming as much as possible, and will joyfully let their characters be deceived until their is an in-world reason for them to see the truth.
Conflict is very much a part of creating a realistic and enjoyable story of socialization. Players should get into arguments with other players and with NPCs. Arguments between player characters should never escalate to violence, stealing, or other treacherous actions. The unity of the adventuring party is tantamount to the basic function of the game, and should not be broken. Some players will claim, “It’s what my character would do.” They should not have built a character who would compromise the unity of the team, and the DM should not have allowed that character to be built.
Arguments with NPCs are less stressful to navigate. Violence is always an option, but it probably shouldn’t be the player’s first response to every situation. Even characters with low intelligence or charisma know better than to murder people over perceived slights. PCs should be relatable, if not normal people. The common “murder-hobo” trope sabotages attempts at solid storytelling. Realistically, no one would root for a barbarian who is dumb as a rock and rips people in half when they shortchange his beer. I’d also like to point out that a negative one in a trait does not make you terrible at it, only below average. Nine times out of ten, a dispute with an NPC should be able to be solved just as we solve them in the real world: with dialogue. If dialogue fails, there are still many options before a group of “heroes” should resort to brutalizing some poor farmer.