Post by Joe the Revelator on May 4, 2015 8:21:06 GMT
Author: OP Rob
Word Count: 1500
Full Title: 4 Ways to Steamroll Your Players (Advice from a Shitty DM)
Preferred Post: Long Monday article
Rob, just need you to check this over before you post it. Took a while for me to change all the tenses so it was from the DM's perspective. Also added a few quips between the long text blocks, and broke each block into 2-3 paragraphs.
Everyone has had at least one stubborn DM-- The guy who tries to cram your character into his preconceived world regardless of backstory or motivation. He’s the dude who thinks he knows all the rules, yet throws a fit when you hit on an amazing build that will wreck his dungeons. He’s the jerk who tells you roleplay isn’t important, and throws endless combat at you, until you feel like you came to his house for six hours of math and you leave feeling like you had a study group instead of a D&D session. And if you have an insightful, original idea, god help you. Rather than give you a legitimate reason why something couldn’t or shouldn’t be done, he’ll flat out tell you “No” if it doesn’t fit within the scope of his narrowly structured world.
(pic of god, or Morgan Freeman as god from google images. Caption: “Why would you want to add your imperfect ideas to my perfect universe?”)
Everyone knows an awful DM. But…what if you become that awful DM? What if one day you find yourself defending that rigid structure? Championing those perfectly balanced encounters? Scolding the players for ruining your beautifully manicured world? What if it’s your scowl the players see when they appeal to that not-so-faceless god in the sky?
Not to worry fellow tyrant of the table. Here, to help you crush the creativity out of your misguided adventurers when that day finally comes, are 4 ways to steamroll your players.
(stock picture of a steamroller. Caption: Hopes and dreams in my campaign is what tar is to pavement.)
1) Pretend You Don’t Understand the Player’s Concept
Thogar the Mighty, Tipper of Cows and Minotaur, might be an amazing concept for a character, but the rest of the party isn’t going to get it. Why would he tip cows in the first place? Don’t you know Minotaur aren’t related to cows, but horses? Who would think of such a thing and why? No one will understand why in the name of the greater and lesser deities this crazy bastard is running around looking for bovine to tip over when there’s a perfectly good dungeon to pillage.
As a stodgy, steamroller DM, if you encounter a character concept you don’t get, simply tuck it away. Shove it to the back burner, or a vault, never to be thought of again. And your “creative” player? Fuck that guy. What could they honestly do with a character that breaks the RPG mold? Does this player want a medal for tipping cows and minotaur? Is he expecting some sort of in-game bonus? Are they after a rare cow-based item?
The player’s dreams are inconsequential. Allow them to feel unfulfilled and unrewarded for the extreme amount of thought and work they put into the backstory they came up with regarding why Thogar is so obsessed with changing the horizontal orientation of large four-legged creatures, and move on. Because what else would you do? Work with your player outside the game to find out what in the nine hells they expect out of this? No. No, no no no. Nope. Not gonna happen.
(Stock photo expressing fierce denial)
2) Let Munchkin Players Specialize Until They’re Functionally Useless
One of the worst game-breaking offenders is the power nerd. Not to say these guys are bad. It’s just, sometimes you encounter a mind that’s precisely detail-oriented, capable of memorizing facts and figures for days, with the spare time to read the entire rule book cover to cover.
(Stock pic of a nerd. Possibly Sam Tarly from Game of Thrones. Caption: His day job is ruining your game. His hobby is also ruining your game.)
This makes for quite the potential shouting match when the player behind Thogar only focused on the skills to get all the bonuses for tipping cows and minotaur, but never explored any other abilities that might apply to your game. Bonus to cow tipping! Sweet! The player will close the book and call it a day, then try it next game only to find out that you, the Steamroller DM (Steamy DM, for short) can poke holes in his plan.
You’ve removed all the cows and minotaur from your campaign. For the Throgar, the game is ruined, and this is why we can’t have anything nice. Friendships have ended over sillier things than D&D… right? But you don’t need friends. You need loyal players! And if Throgar quits because you invalidated his munchkin ass, you can always pick up new players at 7-11, or the halfway house on the corner.
(meme pic of a hobo – I don’t always drink beer. Caption: He’ll be playing the sultry bard.)
As the DM, what else would you do? Explain things before the game? Help them during the campaign? Coax them into a soft landing when they find out what they wanted isn’t actually doable? Heavens no! They’ll totally derail the entire game. Let one munchkin slide and soon chaos will overtake law and order. Nazis will ride on dinosaurs, and wolves will make human suits to attend “Furless” cons.
And if somehow this cretin manages to locate a slumbering herd in your game without you sabotaging it first, force him to make a perception check to find that the cows and minotaur are wearing Leg Bracers of Stability.
(stock pic of a cow. Caption: “Try it motherfucker.”)
3) Ignore Roleplay
Roleplay is a funny thing. Some groups want to show up in full costume and never speak out of character unless they absolutely have to. Whereas other players won’t even speak in character because it’s embarrassing. Most opt for an awkward middle ground, half OOC, half in-character. Which means half the time when they’re hitting on the hot priestess of the party, they’re actually hitting on Ted across the table.
Whichever side your players land on it will be you, the DM, who does 90% of the roleplaying. It’s just a fact of the game, since the DM is, for all intent and purposes, playing all the characters at once except for the PC’s. Thogar might show up to the game wearing a Conan costume he got from his brother who wore it last Halloween (which still reeks of Natty Ice) but it will be you playing the role of his victims, mooing at the top of your lungs for mercy after you’re awoken by a vicious +5 tipping.
The important thing is to remember is that for every roleplay moment where Thogar shouts and thumps his chest in-character, is another interruption where players aren’t listening to you descriptions of rolling hillsides and icy mountains. As the Steamy Bonus Master, it’s your job to quell unnecessary roleplay. If the players want to get into character, let their dice do the talking... During strictly designed combat encounters, of course.
After all, what other option do you have? Let the group decide on the amount of roleplay they all expect before the game even starts?
(stock photo, asserting a strong “No” attitude)
4) Don’t Let the Players be the Hero
Many players spend hours dreaming up the perfect moment for their character in your game. It is, after all, a game powered only by their imagination. A scene can be imagined five different ways by five different people. And this “imagination “ is where we run into problems as Steamroller DMs.
When Thogar thinks how perfect it will be to lead a cow up a tower, onto the balcony, over the edge, and tip it onto a market table below, thus launching the goods seesaw style into the air for their waiting party earning them a magical artifact that will open the last room of the dungeon—you have to quell that shit.
While this plan makes perfect sense in Thogar’s mind, what the player neglected to take into consideration was how you had planned, in agonizing detail, the heist of this magical item. Never let the players come up with their own solutions. Never indulge them in that quintessential power fantasy. They are not the hero of the story. They are your players, and they are here to listen to your tale of middle earth.
“No, you can’t do that.”
This is your go-to answer whenever they want the interaction with the shopkeeper to be more pronounced for some reason. And don’t let Thogar believe he can sidestep your immaculate reasoning with questions. Why can’t he lead a cow up the church tower stairs? It will physically fit-- Just need some wheat or something to lead the cow. It’ll work. What? No? Why not?
“Because I said no”
Yelling will commence. Things will get ugly. Someone is likely to get soda in their face. Just remember it’s all for the greater game. Shutting down a player out of hand is the quickest way to cause a shouting match. Which might be all well and fun if you like to fight. But no one ever said games were all just harmless fun. Or any kind of fun.
(stock photo of a boardgame. Maybe Mouse Trap. Caption: Pictured – No fun whatsoever)
Word Count: 1500
Full Title: 4 Ways to Steamroll Your Players (Advice from a Shitty DM)
Preferred Post: Long Monday article
Rob, just need you to check this over before you post it. Took a while for me to change all the tenses so it was from the DM's perspective. Also added a few quips between the long text blocks, and broke each block into 2-3 paragraphs.
Everyone has had at least one stubborn DM-- The guy who tries to cram your character into his preconceived world regardless of backstory or motivation. He’s the dude who thinks he knows all the rules, yet throws a fit when you hit on an amazing build that will wreck his dungeons. He’s the jerk who tells you roleplay isn’t important, and throws endless combat at you, until you feel like you came to his house for six hours of math and you leave feeling like you had a study group instead of a D&D session. And if you have an insightful, original idea, god help you. Rather than give you a legitimate reason why something couldn’t or shouldn’t be done, he’ll flat out tell you “No” if it doesn’t fit within the scope of his narrowly structured world.
(pic of god, or Morgan Freeman as god from google images. Caption: “Why would you want to add your imperfect ideas to my perfect universe?”)
Everyone knows an awful DM. But…what if you become that awful DM? What if one day you find yourself defending that rigid structure? Championing those perfectly balanced encounters? Scolding the players for ruining your beautifully manicured world? What if it’s your scowl the players see when they appeal to that not-so-faceless god in the sky?
Not to worry fellow tyrant of the table. Here, to help you crush the creativity out of your misguided adventurers when that day finally comes, are 4 ways to steamroll your players.
(stock picture of a steamroller. Caption: Hopes and dreams in my campaign is what tar is to pavement.)
1) Pretend You Don’t Understand the Player’s Concept
Thogar the Mighty, Tipper of Cows and Minotaur, might be an amazing concept for a character, but the rest of the party isn’t going to get it. Why would he tip cows in the first place? Don’t you know Minotaur aren’t related to cows, but horses? Who would think of such a thing and why? No one will understand why in the name of the greater and lesser deities this crazy bastard is running around looking for bovine to tip over when there’s a perfectly good dungeon to pillage.
As a stodgy, steamroller DM, if you encounter a character concept you don’t get, simply tuck it away. Shove it to the back burner, or a vault, never to be thought of again. And your “creative” player? Fuck that guy. What could they honestly do with a character that breaks the RPG mold? Does this player want a medal for tipping cows and minotaur? Is he expecting some sort of in-game bonus? Are they after a rare cow-based item?
The player’s dreams are inconsequential. Allow them to feel unfulfilled and unrewarded for the extreme amount of thought and work they put into the backstory they came up with regarding why Thogar is so obsessed with changing the horizontal orientation of large four-legged creatures, and move on. Because what else would you do? Work with your player outside the game to find out what in the nine hells they expect out of this? No. No, no no no. Nope. Not gonna happen.
(Stock photo expressing fierce denial)
2) Let Munchkin Players Specialize Until They’re Functionally Useless
One of the worst game-breaking offenders is the power nerd. Not to say these guys are bad. It’s just, sometimes you encounter a mind that’s precisely detail-oriented, capable of memorizing facts and figures for days, with the spare time to read the entire rule book cover to cover.
(Stock pic of a nerd. Possibly Sam Tarly from Game of Thrones. Caption: His day job is ruining your game. His hobby is also ruining your game.)
This makes for quite the potential shouting match when the player behind Thogar only focused on the skills to get all the bonuses for tipping cows and minotaur, but never explored any other abilities that might apply to your game. Bonus to cow tipping! Sweet! The player will close the book and call it a day, then try it next game only to find out that you, the Steamroller DM (Steamy DM, for short) can poke holes in his plan.
You’ve removed all the cows and minotaur from your campaign. For the Throgar, the game is ruined, and this is why we can’t have anything nice. Friendships have ended over sillier things than D&D… right? But you don’t need friends. You need loyal players! And if Throgar quits because you invalidated his munchkin ass, you can always pick up new players at 7-11, or the halfway house on the corner.
(meme pic of a hobo – I don’t always drink beer. Caption: He’ll be playing the sultry bard.)
As the DM, what else would you do? Explain things before the game? Help them during the campaign? Coax them into a soft landing when they find out what they wanted isn’t actually doable? Heavens no! They’ll totally derail the entire game. Let one munchkin slide and soon chaos will overtake law and order. Nazis will ride on dinosaurs, and wolves will make human suits to attend “Furless” cons.
And if somehow this cretin manages to locate a slumbering herd in your game without you sabotaging it first, force him to make a perception check to find that the cows and minotaur are wearing Leg Bracers of Stability.
(stock pic of a cow. Caption: “Try it motherfucker.”)
3) Ignore Roleplay
Roleplay is a funny thing. Some groups want to show up in full costume and never speak out of character unless they absolutely have to. Whereas other players won’t even speak in character because it’s embarrassing. Most opt for an awkward middle ground, half OOC, half in-character. Which means half the time when they’re hitting on the hot priestess of the party, they’re actually hitting on Ted across the table.
Whichever side your players land on it will be you, the DM, who does 90% of the roleplaying. It’s just a fact of the game, since the DM is, for all intent and purposes, playing all the characters at once except for the PC’s. Thogar might show up to the game wearing a Conan costume he got from his brother who wore it last Halloween (which still reeks of Natty Ice) but it will be you playing the role of his victims, mooing at the top of your lungs for mercy after you’re awoken by a vicious +5 tipping.
The important thing is to remember is that for every roleplay moment where Thogar shouts and thumps his chest in-character, is another interruption where players aren’t listening to you descriptions of rolling hillsides and icy mountains. As the Steamy Bonus Master, it’s your job to quell unnecessary roleplay. If the players want to get into character, let their dice do the talking... During strictly designed combat encounters, of course.
After all, what other option do you have? Let the group decide on the amount of roleplay they all expect before the game even starts?
(stock photo, asserting a strong “No” attitude)
4) Don’t Let the Players be the Hero
Many players spend hours dreaming up the perfect moment for their character in your game. It is, after all, a game powered only by their imagination. A scene can be imagined five different ways by five different people. And this “imagination “ is where we run into problems as Steamroller DMs.
When Thogar thinks how perfect it will be to lead a cow up a tower, onto the balcony, over the edge, and tip it onto a market table below, thus launching the goods seesaw style into the air for their waiting party earning them a magical artifact that will open the last room of the dungeon—you have to quell that shit.
While this plan makes perfect sense in Thogar’s mind, what the player neglected to take into consideration was how you had planned, in agonizing detail, the heist of this magical item. Never let the players come up with their own solutions. Never indulge them in that quintessential power fantasy. They are not the hero of the story. They are your players, and they are here to listen to your tale of middle earth.
“No, you can’t do that.”
This is your go-to answer whenever they want the interaction with the shopkeeper to be more pronounced for some reason. And don’t let Thogar believe he can sidestep your immaculate reasoning with questions. Why can’t he lead a cow up the church tower stairs? It will physically fit-- Just need some wheat or something to lead the cow. It’ll work. What? No? Why not?
“Because I said no”
Yelling will commence. Things will get ugly. Someone is likely to get soda in their face. Just remember it’s all for the greater game. Shutting down a player out of hand is the quickest way to cause a shouting match. Which might be all well and fun if you like to fight. But no one ever said games were all just harmless fun. Or any kind of fun.
(stock photo of a boardgame. Maybe Mouse Trap. Caption: Pictured – No fun whatsoever)