"But I Don't Want to Fight a Dragon: Forced into Making Unrealistic Decisions”

 

"Maybe I Don't Want to Fight a Dragon:  Making Unrealistic Decisions”

  

What I love most about Dungeons & Dragons is the open-world play aspect.  There is nothing more gratifying than taking pen to paper and creating something out of nothing.  Don’t get me wrong, I understand we pull from the sum of our experiences… and everything has near-about been written.  But, there is something cathartic about the process. 

I started loooong ago, stretched out on my bedroom floor as a kid drawing up new adventures, making maps, and dreaming of the tales bards would sing in smoky taverns after I has shuffled off the Earth (or whatever world).  The results may have been a little too fantastic at the time, thanks to a child’s overactive imagination, and needing more polishing than an old pipe organ.  But, I prize every memory made of those days.  After the years sharpened, and possibly dulled in some ways, my story-building, I have learned many important features and pitfalls when embracing the open-world freedom.  One pitfall that troubles me the most is the need to follow certain paths on an adventure without having at least some motivation interlacing the characters. 

Come to think of it, maybe I don’t want to fight a dragon.

I believe having the liberty to choose any door is one of the prime features that has led to D&D’s continued success, outside of everyone’s inner child always wanting to break free from the day-to-day adulting.  Being able to create and adventure in worlds only dreamed of screams for a continuing experience, desiring to find those impossible boundaries.  Inversely, there sits the one issue I sometimes run into when playing under other DM’s or grabbing up modules – players not able to deviate from a path.  And worse, it requires them to do something that under very, and I mean very, few circumstances would they consider a favorable path.

When sitting down to adventure, DMs may have brewed something up of their own design or run one of the many modules made available.  To simplify, the adventure’s path can either be ‘open’, with multiple options, or linear, directed by the set events taking place.  In both cases, limitations still exist.  That is an undeniable truth.  DMs cannot have every path planned and modules require a certain amount of subservience, to openly welcome whatever is coming.

In either case, there may arise an ‘ugly’ choice that creeps into the storyline at some point.  With an open-world approach, the game may not hinge on continued progression from that point, but a linear adventure requires the party to make a ‘poor’ choice, or it all ends.  This is not something I would endorse or recommend as a plot device.  I suggest to DMs to find other ways to build drama, there are so many.

I am sure for those that have been running since ‘back in the day’, you have encountered this lovely happenstance.  Don’t worry, you newer players can have that opportunity with one of 5^th Edition’s starting modules - Horde of the Dragon Queen.  This lovely launching module for 5^th edition gives a great example to illustrate my point.  A bit extreme, but fun enough.

What if I were to tell you, using similar words:

“The party crests a rise, the trail breaking free from the crowded forest behind them.  The sun’s last rays quickly disappear behind the distant horizon.  Before you, in a valley below, obscured in plumes of smoke, lies your destination.  You have arrived while the town is currently being ransacked.  At its center, a nearly obscured tower extends upward with a large creature with wide-spread wings dancing in and out of sight, wheeling around the dark finger.”

With that image in your character’s head, what could possibly make a young, ‘green’ adventurer think it is a good idea to run in to aid the town?  Really?  One can make the argument that the characters are heroes.  That this is something that they would typically do.  I wouldn’t dispute the foolhardiness an adventurer should have, but to run into this milieu would seem suicide.  Are characters to live on the jagged edge?  I would pose that this is not to be taken lightly. 

Or, how about a familiar, classic theme:

“The smell of the deep earth stains the stale air in this long-forgotten tomb… until you approach a closed, wooden door at the end of the hall.  The party has been down here for two days fighting undead creatures and horrid monstrosities, all behind these countless doors.  This one seems different.  A slight whiff of burning metal, or what could be old copper, permeates from the ‘welcoming’ change.  From the inch-wide gap at the base, the faintest wisps of yellow light waivers in and out of existence.  The scout tests the door, then slowly swings it open.  Before you stands a grand portal.  Gold bands intertwined and shaped into waves create an archway, pinned to the stone floor, and nearly touching the vaulted ceiling.  A translucent, milky shimmer swirls in no particular pattern between the arches.  Everyone standing in front of the portal looks at one another, not a clue where it leads.”

Hmmm…  Yes, my first thought is, “Let’s step through…?”  Not really.

I don’t think it matters whether you are a 1^st level or 15^th level, not knowing what is on the other side makes this portal appear to be more a dead end than the next leg of the adventure. 

The use of the “before you” in each example subtly implies that this is your one option.  Yes, there may be other approaches and probing that can be done, but the DM is hoping the players will blindly accept their fate.  Of course, this is more used to illustrate my point so that as a DM, they do not introduce that ultimatum to their players.

The challenge now should have been realized, that there needs to be some forethought on the DM’s part to consider the adventure’s path.  Whether backstory or well-placed carrots, the majority of the party members should have some reason to dare folly.  It’s widely known by DMs to read the module and prepare before the game.  This particular suggestion should not be overlooked. 

To enrich the game and aid the its progression, the DM should act as orchestral conductor, weaving the notes into a clear and simple sound.  The DM should take the time to sit with each player and get an idea of their character, know how they see their character’s motivations.  This will unburden the DM from worrying about whether a party may flip the story on its side, thus then forcing a direction they may not want to take.  This will lead to troubles at the table.  Even if it is just a game, players shouldn’t be expected to rush in and fight a dragon. 

The principle idea is to never let the players believe they have no choice.  They may have misgivings, but not get the impression they are being railroaded by the DM.  Characters having a vested interest in doing something questionable offers some indirect support from the DM.  Sorta a metagame nod.  Also, to dive briefly into running a game, the DM must adhere to the core tone of the world and story.  If a DM gives the players the impression they can chose to make rash decisions without consequence, the adventure may struggle when faced with an obvious deadly situation.  No, you cannot persuade the lich to stop his invasion of the kingdom with his undead army by dropping off some donuts. 

The creative process pushes writers and DMs to advance a story, and they sometimes try to push the boundaries as well.  Compelling images capture the imagination but reigning in those moments when requiring a party to blindly charge into danger needs some attention.  A little love and care for the characters before the game can go a long way. 

Besides, maybe I don’t want to fight a dragon.


--- James S. Austin