This is part of the ongoing opinion series “Chief Yells at Clouds”. LP’s Curmudgeon in Residence, Shawn Stanford (call him ‘Chief’), takes issue with everything that isn’t exactly the way it was when he started playing D&D on papyrus and clay tablets.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.
– John Donne
Is it okay to kill player characters? And if so, when?
I saw a recent thread on a DnD 5e FB group where a GM’s players had angered a powerful and dangerous faction by trespassing at a forbidden site, and as a result faced summary execution. It was a spirited discussion. There were three clear camps:
- Absolutely not! Killing PCs is bad storytelling and bad refereeing (and a dick move).
- It’s okay as long as you’ve given them every conceivable opportunity to not be killed.
- They knew the rules and the potential consequences. Do it!
I tend to fall somewhere between camps 2 and 3, leaning toward 3.
I’ve been playing DnD for a couple days, and having GMs that killed players if they messed up has always been a part of my experience. I’ve lost toons because I made poor decisions. I’m not sure why there’s an expectation that the GM should bail the players out of their bad choices, but that seems to be where we are. We want “player driven” story telling, but also don’t want to kill players if their decisions put them in mortal peril.
It’s unfair to expect that the GM will always make things right when PCs blunder into – or with open eyes walk into – danger. If players up and jump into a volcano, is it incumbent upon the GM to make them fireproof? Or to have a god reach a hand down and pluck them out? I think any reasonable DnD player would see it as fair that the players roast. Even deus ex machina has to have limits.
The culture and factions in a game are just as much a part of the setting as the geophysical features and physics.
DnD is set in world where the players are bound by rules and conventions. It is not a world that is bound by the players, where the basic rules are subject to their whims. And the culture and factions in a game are just as much a part of the setting as the geophysical features and physics. Both gravity and powerful factions will hurt you – even kill you – if you don’t take them seriously enough.
How much effort the GM puts forth to save the players will depend on what type of campaign the GM is running. Is it a sandbox, where the players drive the story? Or is it a narrative, where the players are part of the story, but don’t necessarily drive it?
In a narrative, the GM is telling a story with the help and involvement of the players. The onus is on the the GM to keep the players from getting into situations that will break that story. In the case of the forbidden site and the faction, the GM could have distracted the players with something shiny, or had a powerful entity assign the players a task, or simply raised the drawbridge.
But in the end if the players wander off the path despite the best efforts of the GM, then they’re driving the story and whatever happens is on them. If they ‘break’ the story or don’t play by the rules, they deal with the consequences.
Players at a table are terrible storytellers. They don’t have enough information to be otherwise.
If the situation is a sandbox and the players are driving the story, then the GM needs to deliver the story they’ve driven into; no matter how badly it goes. And it probably won’t be fun for them; and it’s probably not a good story. Here’s a dirty little secret about sandboxes: Players at a table are terrible storytellers. They don’t have enough information to be otherwise.
I’ve seen arguments that killing the players removes their agency. But agency is what got them into that situation in the first place. You don’t get to eat your cake and have it too: Choices in DnD have consequences. If they don’t, then what’s the point?
If players can behave with impunity at all times, where’s the risk? Where’s the struggle? Where’s the meaningful reward? You can go to Disney World and ride ‘Expedition Everest’ all day with infinitesimal chance of a bad outcome. But in DnD when you climb Mount Everest, you might die. And that’s a Good Thing, because without true risks, rewards are meaningless. What’s going to give you the bigger sense of accomplishment: riding ‘Expedition Everest’ thirty times, or climbing Mount Everest once?
I understand and support giving players every opportunity to recover from their errors. But that means a reasonable chance – even heroic chance – within the context of the world. The GM never owes the players an extraordinary chance. If players don’t face consequences for their choices, then it’s no longer a game. If the rules were clear, if every reasonable option for a different outcome was exhausted, and if the story allows for it, then a good GM can, and should, follow through with a dire result.
