The Mon Calamari gambler in a red and gold spiral patterned cloak that would put Lando Calrissian to shame spoke in a slurred accent reminiscent of Sean Connery speaking through a particularly thick milkshake he had just enjoyed. “A wager? Fer my cloak?”
The Twi’lek ambassador responded in a slow, Christopher Walken drawl that William Shatner would have envied for its pausing. “A... wager. A … game … of cards … just … you … and me.”
The Twi’lek ambassador responded in a slow, Christopher Walken drawl that William Shatner would have envied for its pausing. “A... wager. A … game … of cards … just … you … and me.”
“The game ish on, my boy. Shabacc.”
“Mind… who you call boy… fish man.”
I’m paraphrasing and editing dialogue and inventing witty repartee but I swear to any gods that might be listening this exchange happened between a Twi’lek Christopher Walken and a Mon Calamari Sean Connery in the middle of a space station cantina that the party would go on to destroy the next in-game day.
He lost the game of sabacc (space-poker-blackjack, look it up) and had to buy the incredible cloak for somewhere around 500 credits (space money, look it up). The cloak offered no benefits. I did not provide artwork to explain what the cloak looked like. When I described it as having a “spiral pattern” my player probably pictured a different spiral than I did. But he had to have that cloak and he had to try and win it by gambling with a particularly rowdy Mon Calamari (sentient space appetizer, look it up). The pattern I imagined was the same as the purple and white hood that Tali’zorah wears in Mass Effect (overall disappointing sci-fi game trilogy, you’ve heard of it don’t play this game).
But my friend had the time of his life gambling for a fake cloak that provided no benefit from a character they probably would never see again. His character’s motivation was to acquire a flashy object that he could picture his character wearing. That’s the kind of motivation that is my absolute jam.
Let me tell you another quick story before I get to my point (because I love telling stories, look it up).
Sarven Sylmaris, an often mentioned character that has appeared in my longest running D&D campaign, has some of the most interesting character development for what was supposed to be a one-shot character. He began as a katana and blowgun wielding duelist who just wanted to challenge people to fights. When he ran across a drow pirate named Ark Kyness that made him mildly upset he realized that these weapons were not for him and he needed to embrace a more swashbuckling lifestyle. So he killed Ark, stole his purple pirate coat, and got a rapier. When the party went up against a dread pirate illithid named Captain Pryde his player wanted nothing more than to take the Davy Jones wannabe’s tattered black pirate coat and his enormous captain’s hat. So he did. By the end of the campaign Sarven had the following strange conditions:
- He wielded a sentient cutlass that constantly told him to kill his friends.
- He welcomed a benevolent friendly loud and hilarious Elder God into his mind.
- He merged with a female dragonborn, gaining the breath attack, tail, and left arm of a dragonborn while also having to constantly deal with her mind merged with his.
- Lost his other hand and replaced it with a gauntlet fueled by blood magic.
- Willingly allowed himself to be sacrificed through ritual blade murder so that a portal to the Shadowfell could be established, which then led to the Raven Queen herself returning him as an undead Dread Pirate to forever haunt the seas of the Shadowfell. Sarven admitted after this happened that even though he could never have seen it coming, it was what he always wanted.
Sarven is one of my favorite characters. My friend’s charismatic Twi’lek is one of my favorite characters.
I love characters that are in love with their own weirdness. Characters that don’t apologize for wanting what they want when they want it. Sarven wanted cool things so he got them. He wanted an Elder God in his brain so he invited him in. He wanted to let the Shadowfell rejoin the Material Plane so he made it happen.
Characters that know what they are about, that know what they want, that fight and strive to get it are ten thousand times more interesting (in my humble incredible opinion) than characters that hem and haw and hee and other three letter H words.
That doesn’t mean every character needs to be that way and that doesn’t mean characters that aren’t that way are invalid. Every character type is worthy and worth our time and admiration.
But characters, player generated or DM run, that don’t apologize for going after the things they want are interesting. They’re tantalizing. They’re fantastical! It’s very different from the mundane world where everyone is hyper cautious about pursuing their favorite things. But in a Tabletop game the draconic blood sorceress that wants to be Queen and will do anything and everything to get there is amazing! In real life she would be such a bitch difficult coworker. The Half-orc fighter that fishes with gnomes would not be a fun workout buddy but in a Tabletop game he’s hilarious!
Alright Dungeon Masters, this article has gotten a little bit away from me but I can reel it back in and give you my advice.
- Help your players make characters with goals: Having goals is sooooo important. A paladin is not interesting if they aren’t being a paragon of their god and doing good things. They would just be a preachy dick to people. That’s not fun that’s boring. But a paladin that prefers mercy over death, sparing the lives of kobolds and goblins in favor of offering them a second chance, has flavor to it. That paladin makes me ask questions. That paladin lets me, the DM, set up future encounters where those kobolds might come back as grateful allies. Or those goblins could come back and mess everything up because they’re goblins and sparing them was a bad idea. But it gives me options, damn it!
- Help your players make characters with flavor: Preferably something spicy with lots of garlic. I might be describing chicken wings … gimme a sec. Personal flavor! Got it. My bad. A monk that wears plain brown robes with a bald head and sandals is played out. A monk covered in tattoos, each one a reminder of a way she has failed in the past, wearing the blood red robe of her former master who died at the hands of an aarakocra so now she collects bird feathers and adorns herself in them to give her strength and refuses to fail again is way more interesting and kind of a cool idea wow give me a sec that’s a badass NPC. Character’s that have aesthetics and preferences and desires are more fleshed out. More real. More interesting. Help your player’s find what kind of boots their character wants to wear. Make sure the treasure is interesting enough to support that kind of boot preference.
- Help your players make characters with flaws: The swashbuckler with perfect hair, a tight doublet, and exceptional sword skills is cool for like … 12 seconds. That’s 2 rounds of combat before they are boring. Gotta step your game up. The swashbuckler that manages to do cool things but no one believes them and no one tells stories about them? Now you’ve got something interesting. Fears, insecurities, tragic backstories, murdered siblings, lost loves, revenge storylines. Ugh! They’re all so good and useful but often get ignored because goblins are outside town again and they’ve got to be stopped. But a pirate-adventurer turned slaver turned adventurer again turned mage-hunter with mother and intimacy issues and an obsession with gold that really gets in the way of her dating life is much more interesting than “mysterious assassin.” At least in my opinion. I like drama.
- Help your players make characters that are larger than life: As you will learn, fair reader, as my series on the trials and tribulations of Real 8’s creation, regular people are boring. We don’t seek out adventure nearly as much as we should. We like safe jobs behind desks where we can collect silver but won’t get murdered by demons. Tabletop Gaming characters ARE NOT THAT WAY. Characters want adventure. They want excitement. They are the opposite of Jedi in that way. Characters should hear about a dragon down the road and think of the ten ways they could deal with. Befriend it? Bribe it? Kill it? Lure it elsewhere? Marry it? I don’t know! Think outside the box it’s 2017!
- Help your players dig deep into the characters they create: Race, class, background. These three building blocks help create the statistics for a player. But they don’t tell us what excites them. They don’t tell us what makes them take up the sword or the scroll or the staff or the bow. Real people aren’t the way they are because of insignificant details and those details aren’t insignificant to us. The people that love wearing sweaters have reasons. The people that think cloaks should be modern fashion wear have reasons. The people that watch football have reasons. If your character wants to go to taverns to gamble away their loot then make sure you know WHY. If your character wants to sell their boyfriend into Elder God slavery to save some treasure then make sure you know WHY. If your character supports the crime boss that enslaves people, rather than the perfectly reasonable drug enforcement agent that follows the rules then make sure you know WHY. It’s our job as Dungeon Masters and Game Masters and whatever to help players make sure they know why their characters do the things they do.
Characters are the most important part of Tabletop Gaming. Far more important than either the Dungeons or the Dragons. Or the Pathfinding … or Shadowrunmen … I don’t know. They’re important! Help your players find their characters.
Crin Nalken is a god!!!!!
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