RPG GM Tropes
some background
I DM’ed 2nd edition Dungeon and Dragons in my early teens. I’d say it was an awkward phase of my life, but things haven’t really gotten less awkward, just differently. My DM career has improved with my life experiences. I’ve been running a campaign series since 2018. I’ve lost players, gained players. I’ve run bad sessions, and had to lock horns with some players that are very opinionated.
I’ve also been a player for just about as long for another group, and I get to learn from my DM’s mistakes (as I see them), and the strong points.
I don’t think I have every answer, but I find articulating my mind space in a way that others understand is a very useful exercise. And hey, maybe it’ll help someone else.
the checklist
I’ve done some reading and found there’s some kind of checklist that most experienced (see vocal) DMs I’ve taken any kind of advice from is good. Perhaps you’ve heard it before: Don’t over prep, prep, rule of cool, NPC pools, have a session 0, etc. But find it requires more context. Without context, I’m just as likely to bumble into the problem and wind up learning the lesson the hard way. I’d like to avoid those generally, as they can be quite painful. So, I won’t be rattling off some checklist, but instead going over the things I’ve experienced with some depth.
dysfunctions
There’s definitely dysfunctions you can have as a DM, and I feel like as the DM you are the one who sets the tone of your table. The players are involved just as you are, but when it’s your table, you have the power to govern it. If it doesn’t happen to be your table, well, that gets tricky.
not your table
I’ve played with a group where this is the case, and it definitely can create some social tensions. The DM does the prep but other people host. The hosts have the benefit of not traveling, but they lose the benefit of a mental health break for the campaign if they are having a rough day. It’s important to consider that their rough days might have little to nothing at all to do with your campaign. I highly recommend reading up on Spoon Theory if you aren’t familiar with the idea. I’ve definitely skipped out on some sessions just because there was too much social tension going on at the table. The tension might even be healthy/normal stuff, but it was too much for me when considering everything else in your life. I’m glad I can just call in on those days.
significant other
I don’t think having a significant other as one of your players is automatically a dysfunction, but it’s worth considering that it could be dysfunctional. Remember that your biases are largely invisible to you, and one of the lovely thing about [BROKEN LINK: dice] is that they remove a great amount of the biases from you. However you have to stick with the dice rolls.
using your screen to lie
This feels like Gragaxian era player-DM hostility. It might be tempting to fudge rolls because your boss is underperforming, but the flip to that is that you’re robbing your players of their victories. Defeating the boss isn’t necessarily the victory. But getting that amazing hit in at just the right time is a huge victory for the player.
Similarly, you could fudge your rolls to go easier on the players. This is probably more a matter of opinion, but I feel you shouldn’t do this. The randomness a d20 offers is great, and combat should never be a certainty. Every fight should involve risk of some kind, and if there is risk then there is reward (not just treasure - but in narrative and enjoyment). Also, if you pull a shot on player A, will you do the same when it’s player B’s turn? Are you really allowing player A to learn the right lesson? Things just get harder for inexperienced players later. Instead of pulling a shot, allow the players to call in a favor for a raise (that’s why it’s in the game), or use some other narrative outside of dice and combat. And sometimes a PC death can be a wonderful thing, narratively speaking. Characters can show their loyalties to each other. Raising player A becomes a quest of its own that just writes itself. Player A now has a chance to feel indebted to their party, and the bond is strengthened. Death or even near death creates vulnerable moments, and that’s wonderful for story telling.
Your screen is a chance to build suspense, to cut the players out of bias. I like to roll for encounters on each day, but I roll them at night. That way if it’s a day encounter, they can run into it anytime between waking and the next day they wake. You can also make players wonder if you’re rolling for attacks, traps being triggered, etc. And if you do it enough, and make it look convincing, it keeps them on their toes. To make it look convincing, you need to look at the dice, and then consider what that might mean. You could even make something up briefly and then just not act upon it. It’s the perfect fake tell to throw.
story preparation
On occasion I daydream about my campaign. I consider what’s going on, and what could happen. And really, besides having some stat blocks ready and maybe some props (if that’s your style), that should be enough.
Prepping for the story invites bias to yourself as a storyteller. Here’s kind of a contrarian stance: Your job is not to tell the story as a DM. Your job is to set the stage. You use metaphorical props to dress up your scene and provide it to the players. Your players are the primary actors. Your playwright is a combination of dice and players.
Instead I like to think of there being a world, and whether the world has players in it or not, it still turns. Market prices rise and fall. Nations war with each other, and later make peace. Evil creatures spill from whatever holes birth them, until culled. Villagers band resources together to do this culling. Power hungry people work to seize power. Your world is a rich place for stories to happen, and all of them can happen at a moment’s notice. Consider who the big players are of your world, and how their ambitions cause events to sway in their favor.
Then drop the players into such a world, and let them become big players who set their own series of events in motion. The big people are out there, but perhaps they have not yet noticed nor cared about the party. Maybe they have, but the assassins will take time to reach them, or the smear campaign needs time to warm up such that these powerful individuals should be locked up rather than let to roam free, unchecked, and above the law.
tell instead of show
This is ancient storytelling advice. You must show instead of tell. This means you want to stay away from factual descriptions you’d see in some boring textbook. “You arrive at the town” is certainly easy, but there’s no flavor. Try something like this:
“As you crest the hill, you can see the double-ring of the city’s walls. Nestled in its center are spires of smooth marble. From here you can hear the low buzz of the city’s bustle. The glint of spearpoints from the guards at the city gates catches the sun and makes you squint for a moment. The breeze picks up and the manure of the surrounding farmland makes your face scrunch for a moment. Welcome to Duranae, the jewel of Nomasgard.”
I wouldn’t necessarily write this down. Though sometimes I write down some parts I think will stand out. To me, “tell” is stating a fact. “Show” means you impregnate the senses. There’s a lot more than 5! You can talk about how things are cold. Talk about how there’s an overcast, yet the green of the grass is crisp in your eyes. You hear the sound of wheats cackling against themselves when the wind picks up. The city smells of body odor and bile. You feel the cobblestone vibrate as the mounted soldiers pass you on their way to the gates.
This is stuff you can think up a little bit ahead of time, but you’re also just pulling it directly out of your ass. The more you do it, the better you get. It might seem like this causes things to drag on, but players drink this up. Their imagination thirsts for detail. They want to be there with you in your mind’s eye. Embellish. Always embellish. And when the players want to interact with that embellishment, let them! I mentioned mounted soldiers. The party’s rogue wants to see if he can pinch some orders from the belt of one of the soldiers in the back of the troop. Go for it! This is what rogues are built for. Now you have a story about entering this stinking, busy city, and the first thing the fucking burglar does is snatches something that doesn’t belong to them. And then the story gets better when the party has to break the burglar out of the jail. In order to do so, you have to work out some kind of deal with the local underbelly. This underbelly that your burglar doesn’t have a great history with. But maybe the party never knew this, because the burglar kept secrets! Oh wow. Could you imagine such a session? Who cares about your quest you planned. You have all the time in the world to weave the “main” story back in. Just make connections later.
puzzles and riddles
Puzzles and riddles are, at best, going to appeal to one of your players. Hardly the whole group. Even a party exclusively made of wizards is going to have some wizards that are less “thinky” than others. The lure of puzzles and riddles is that when you read and book or watch a movie with it, the affordances of a movie or book is that they can advance time to the viewer as well as understanding. Your table cannot do this. You can give more and more hints if they get stuck, and then it becomes less satisfying for everyone in the end, including you, the DM.
If you want a puzzle for players to tackle, put a door in front of them during a situation where there are a lot of unknowns. It can be a mighty door, with a intricate locking mechanism, and fearsome statues of giant dragon heads poised to breathe on the poor fool with the lock picks. The party will use the tools at their disposal to open the door, but which one? The dwarf with the hammer could bash it in, or the wizard could use knock on it. But both of those are loud, and one takes longer than the other. Firebolt will cause smoke to carry through the cave, and might even make breathing difficult. The rogue can’t get high enough up to the dragon heads to determine for sure if they are traps, but damn they look like a trap. And more importantly, their trigger and exactly what they will do - it could breathe fumes into the whole room - not just the sucker who picked the locks. The ranger could employ their pet to sniff the area to tell if there are certain creatures that inhabit this area (and you should let it work! It smells like orcs in here…). The druid might be able to conjure or persuade an insect to climb through the keyhole and report back what it sees. The naive warlock might just misty step to the other side, and have zero support from their allies for a few rounds while everyone tries to beat the door down, hearing the screams of their friend being assaulted by some unseen horror.
The players will think through their tools (or not), and it becomes a big part of the fun. You’re playing a table-top RPG. Not some computer game where the inputs and outputs are relatively fixed. This is where your medium excels, so let it!
house rules
One of my favorite examples of house rules turning upside down is in Matt Mercer’s first campaign for Critical Role. I love these folks. They showed me what D&D could be, and are responsible for getting me back into it and giving me such a creative outlet in life. And also I want to learn from things I feel like bit them.
From watching his campaign (like, all of it) and also thumbing through the feats section of his campaign book, I get the impression Mercer doesn’t feel like spellcasters are powerful enough. If you tally things in up in the various player materials, you’ll find for sure that spellcasters have fewer feats available to them (circa 5th edition) than the non-casting counterparts. As a spellcaster, you distinguish yourself mostly through your spell choices, with a smattering of other things (sorcerous origin, school of study, religious domain, etc). A wizard that takes telekinesis is different than a wizard that takes fireball. Taking a two handed hammer over a two handed sword really isn’t that different, but taking great weapon master vs mobile is very different. Take a look at the feat schedule for all the classes. You’ll notice that everyone gets the same number of feats - except rogues who get one more, and fighters who get two more.
Standard rules are that if you cast a level spell (as in 1st level or up), any other spells you are permitted to cast that turn must be a cantrip. Likewise, if you cast a spell (not a cantrip), you can cast a cantrip as a bonus action. This all assumes the casting time permits this. No cantrips are bonus actions for good reason, but Quicken changes this at a price.
Mercer’s house rule basically substitutes “cantrip” with “3rd level spell or lower” throughout. Before you correct me, hold on. This means you can possible double or even triple-tap fireballs before initiative is even rolled. And this happened. And the fucking sorcerer soloed an entire encounter. The look on Matt’s face was one of daggers that day. Or at least that’s my recollection of it. Afterwards he knocked it down to “2nd level spells or lower”. Give me some time and I’ll abuse that too…
If you’re reading this, chances are you are not a game designer specifically from D&D. So you don’t have all the notes, all the arguments, and the 40 or so years of history to know how to just tweak a single rule in the middle of a giant ecosystem of other rules. And before you say it’s not that big, consider every spell is a rule.
I’m not saying you shouldn’t ever house rule, but you should do so both deliberately and sparingly. Matt Mercer was deliberate, and as far as I know it was the only notable thing he house ruled (so, sparingly too). Even then, it bit him and he had to dial it back. His players weren’t the crunch heads that could’ve continued to make him regret it, fortunately.
Also, a house rule should be included in your session 0, because players build their characters around the confines of the rules. When you change rules without telling them, you’re squashing their carefully laid plans. Don’t do this. Not without getting buy in for your session 0.
Even then, make sure your motivations aren’t for realism. Your game’s rules should outline a way that everyone can have fun that’s consistent. Before you bring down that house rule, consider: Is it really that bad to leave as it was?
realism
Add rules to supplement what exists already because it makes things fun and interesting. Not because you want a simulator. When the rules don’t seem to jive with how you think things should go, I invite you to revisit your interpretation of the rules. Don’t add dexterity modifiers to walking speed. Dextrous doesn’t necessarily mean fast. Mobile doesn’t necessarily mean coordinated. Hit points aren’t necessarily meat points (they could be some combination of plot armor, meat, will to live, and rolling with the punches earned from countless fights).
balancing
Show me one underpowered or overpowered thing in 5th edition, and I’ll show you something you don’t understand.
One thing I like to remind my players when they get janky with spells: Whatever bullshit they came up with that’s crazy powerful is also available to the bad guys. You want to polymorph that thing into a snail, then put it in a metal tube, and break concentration to see the thing squirt out both ends in a macabre shower of gristle? Just wait to see what the Evil Druid Enclave has in store for you when each member casts Conjure Woodland Beings, each bringing out 8 sprites that can fly and cast polymorph. They make their own cliffs!
good habits
roll with it
Be a slave to the dice. They set you free. No player can blame you for their shitty rolls. Imagine how badass your boss looks when he lands that critical hit on the warrior and knocks her down. Then he looks up at the cleric and licks his lips. He knows who he’s going for next!
Call for rolls constantly. This is also counter advice, but it’s good advice, and here’s why: Players spend painstaking amounts of time on their characters, and the painful part to them is picking from all the good choices they have. Proficiencies, powers, spells, and other specializations make some characters better at some things than others. If you have a character who learned how to use a two handed sword, and even learned a fighting style with it, then you want that character to swing it. Similarly if someone at your table put together a character who is a con artist, then let them con.
You do this by calling for rolls. You don’t have to have them roll Deception for every lie they tell, but you can call for it during a the course of a conversation. When the party is in the wilderness, the important of the group’s tracker is highlighted when the city boy rushes out into the bushes and gets lost. The barbarian in the group can cleave goblins without breaking a sweat, but nobody will let her into the city without a fast talker spinning a wild tale of the barbarian’s indentured servitude, and how the city’s law allows for all of the party to enter, so long as the speaker keeps everyone in line.
Some find part of their immersion with the “crunch” or the stats and numbers of the game system. While this doesn’t have to be you, it’s helpful to respect that this probably applies to someone at your table. Let their numbers guide their character. Furthermore, also respect the roll itself. I’ve have players who hate the roll. But the roll is liberating as a DM. You can make anything happen by calling for a roll, as long as you can own the outcome. Don’t try to control the outcome with a roll. Rolls fight predicted outcomes. Instead, roll the dice first and then use the result to prompt your next narrative. If your paladin can’t hit anything (dice are cold, and rolling low tonight), then your paladin can spin it as having lost her conviction - they’d let that thief go because she knew the thief was going to feed the stolen bread to his family. Now the paladin isn’t so sure of herself and her righteous position she so readily takes. Her head isn’t in the game. A great player may even use that moment to reach out to another character, and be helped or rebuffed. No answer is wrong! But it will be memorable. Or, you know, you can throw up your hands and say “dice are bullshit”, and now you’re just worse off than when you started.
props
I like me some props. Props are little things, like miniatures, but also can include a cape you wear on your person, despite also wearing that shirt from the last video game you played. Other props can be a lack of lighting, candles (be mindful of unattended, open flames), and music from movies and video games that match your setting and the theme of the moment.
I love video game music far more than movie music. The reason being is that video game music is designed not for one specific moment, but for a general moment (like combat, or dialog, or tension, or discovery). It’s also not too invasive. Movie scores oftentimes make loud noises to accompany some dramatic moment in the movie, like when a bomb goes off or the character ends their dance with a flourish. Your moments are more like what a video game has.
These props all help set the mood. Think of movies you watch, like Lord of the Rings. One actor is littered with props: A long beard, thick linen robes and a wrinkly, pointed hat. That’s a wizard! But we all know that was an actor. If we stop thinking about the story of Lord or the Rings for a moment, we’ll quickly realize that actor has bills, probably a family, fiends, and has certain apps installed on his smart phone. But the props are so rich in the movies that they help us slip into immersion. As DMs we can’t be expected to match the budget and skill of all of those involved in a movie. However we can buy $10 worth of fantasy coins, or paint the goblins mostly green and toss them in some dip to make them pop a little. We can even take a little extra time to add some flourish to the maps we draw with wet erase markers. Add a line and a circle to show a torch sconce. Put a rug on the ground, or a pile of hay. It’s so much more immersive than lined boxes everywhere. Don’t worry about the time it takes to add a little extra. The story must keep moving, but not necessarily at some crazy fast pace.
embellish
let the players drive the story
cards on the table
Don’t just tip your hand with your secret story elements. Drop the whole hand of cards on the table.