i think you hit the nail on the head wrt information being easy to get and making the challenge acting on it. something i have historically struggled with as a gm is making sure my party has enough information to act on the plot points i am giving them, and because my plot-building improv is not very strong i am often caught out when they get stuck and i don't have any more clues to throw them (because in my mind it seemed like what i had prepared would be sufficient direction).
do you have any insights into how to develop a sense for 1) how much information is "enough" or 2) how to present it in a way that is organic, not dumpy, but doesn't require too many leaps of logic on the part of the players to piece together; or any strategies for doing this better?
So. I am good at clocking this in the context of someone else's beautifully crafted narrative (ie, watching actual play; playing RPGs). I am less good at it myself in practice.
I think my advice would be as follows:
in terms of providing enough information, start small and increase as needed - it's really rewarding if someone figures it out from very little information, and you can't take back info, only add
in terms of figuring out how much information is enough, it's impossible to know in advance, and it sounds like you do have an ability to figure out when players are stuck so what I'd do is not worry if you have to go beyond your basic clues. You can just outright give them information or ask for an insight/investigation/whatever check and then give them. A good example from Campaign 4, if you are following that, is that Brennan just tells Luis-as-Azune that he realizes Thjazi never broke the spell glyph when someone else breaks a spell glyph in his vicinity. It then falls to Luis to act on that, but he knows what the hook is. I know this sounds vague - it's hard to discuss this without an example, but basically, figure out what specifically is the hold-up (eg:, do they know they need to talk to someone but don't know where to find them) and then find a way to convey either where they should go, or a place they can go to get that information in the first place. You can provide either of those either via a single check you ask the player to make, or by telling them.
In terms of making it organic: don't worry about making it organic, but do worry about infodumping. Like, the above spell glyph example is SUPER not organic, but it's quick. It signals to Luis "this is important" and drives him to ask questions of the person who cracked a spell glyph downstairs. You can breadcrumb it - that's the issue with infodumping, frankly.
stepping outside of the bullet points because I think it's important to write up both "what are the series of conclusions I need the party to make for this plot" and "what are the steps they need to take to resolve it. So for example, if your mystery is "this nobleman was found dead" and the solution is "his valet is a werewolf and mauled him to death" then the party needs to realize things like his wounds appear to be from claws, it's a full moon, the valet avoids wearing silver, etc (and they might be able to figure it out without all these pieces of information). The steps they need to take are inspect or get information about the nature of the wounds and to question the valet. So then, depending on when and how they get stuck, you can fix it:
Let's say they know "claw wounds" and "valet avoids silver" but they're not getting it [ie, need more information]. You ask everyone to make a nature or investigation or arcana check. One person gets a high investigation and you say "Alice, you realize that the locks don't appear to have been meddled with or broken, so you think it was someone with access or a key." Another gets high nature and you say "Bob, you realize it is a full moon." Let this stand, see if they figure it out, and then if no one does, look at the person with the high arcana and say "you realize that you know what a full moon and avoiding silver and claw marks add up to: a werewolf." and so on. If no one rolls well, then I would say give them something they would know offhand to direct them to more clues or to someone who can help them, eg "This rings a faint bell but you're not sure; you think going to the rangers on the edge of the town might give you more insight into what kind of creature might have made these claw marks." (also, it goes without saying, but if you didn't have rangers on the edge of town, Improv Babey! You do now.)
Let's say they are having trouble questioning the valet [ie, know what they need to do but can't get to it]. have them overhear city guards talking about the case, or have them question someone else in the house, or have them notice a sign for a task for the guard where they might be able to wrangle a reward or information in exchange. Don't get too hung up on who would have information - obviously you need some logic, but as stated, make up a ranger. Make up a housemaid who happened to notice the valet was weird about silver. Give them alternate ways to obtain this information or assistance in the way they are attempting.
Those are the two big ways in which people get stuck figuring something out. The other thing is getting stuck deciding what to do (eg, do they want to try to cure this lycanthropy or kill the valet or imprison him) which is very complicated and sometimes involves straight up personality conflicts so for THAT I'd say 1. ticking clock forces the decision and 2. let them discuss for a bit but if it goes on a long time have them roll to realize what seems to be the hangup and turn that into a task/mystery to solve and 3. above all, and this is always true at any table, it is better to break immersion and say hey guys, what's your feeling, what do you need from me than to let people flounder and try to organically correct. This could be a whole separate post but like, a lot of people are really hesitant to just jump out of character and use their words as DM and Players and like. don't be. That's not metagaming, that's making sure you're having fun and aren't frustrated.
Bored at work so I wrote Apologia for each of the evil gods in the standard D&D settings.
These are reasons why someone might convert to actively worshipping "Evil" gods beyond "idk they're just evil" or "idk they're just insane". This isn't me attempting to make a straw-cultural relativism "actually all gods are good if you already worship them" point, the people making these arguments will still probably be driven to do Villainous things, but it should lead to players hearing them out and going "Okay I can see why you came to the conclusion why that would be a good thing to do". I've also tried to stay within 'canon' as much as possible; it's easy to come up with reasons why people might pick a god if you just make stuff up whole cloth. If you want to use these in your own games, either as NPCs, Villains or Morally Complex PCs, feel free - just let me know how the other players respond, because I'd like to hear!
Auril, the Frostmaiden, is a goddess of Winter and the Arctic. She is cruel and harsh, though beautiful, and her favour grants no protection from ice and chill. Mostly, she is Propitiated against, as the subsistence farmers and hunters of the North pray merely for survival during the darkest months. She does still have a corps of dedicated worshippers, though. These clerics travel North for one of two reasons. Firstly, to prepare against the inevitable. Winter is always coming, and you must always be ready to survive it., The starvation makes you lean, cutting out the unnecessary fat, and the cold keeps you sharp. Those who can't make it were never going to make it; what remains when the Spring comes is what was best able to make use of what Autumn's bounty brought. clerics of this type travel light, with only what tools they need to survive, disdaining the ostentatious wealth of those who have never faced a true trial of strength. Secondly, to take in the beauty of ice. Winter is cruel, yes, but the silence carries a sharpness of sound, and the light reflects beautifully. Auril preserves those who she favours most forever in ice that never melts; in this way artists can find true immortality, as their works will remain as frozen perfection until the sun dies and Greyhawk is taken by the final winter that never ends.
Asmodeus is an outlier amongst the evil pantheon, in that he LOVES Civilisation. He loves hierarchies. He loves rules. He loves when people organise themselves and come to agreements. He loves contracts. Humanity has never known such flourishing as it has experiences since the dawn of civilisation, and Asmodeus can't get enough of that. He hates oathbreakers and traitors. He wants the powerful to watch over and protect those who serve them. Deference to the law is a key point of dogma amongst worshippers of Asmodeus. What separates Asmodeus from the Traditionally Lawful Good deities like Ilmater or Torm is that he teaches that even an unjust contract, freely entered into, should be obeyed. Even cruel rulers should be paid deference. If your conscience says that a law is immoral, it is your conscience that should be quieted. There's a relief in that. If you know exactly what the rules are that you need to operate under at all times, you never have to think about your choices. Is it Legal? Then it is Good. If there's no rule against it, then it's fine. Justice is simple when the only two colours are Black and White.
There are gods who serve for specific times and places, and take a backseat at other times. Bane is one of those gods. Bane comes to bring civilisation by the sword, whether you want it or not. Those with power must rule; all else must take their place and serve, or be trampled. Bane watches over those who conquer, and he loves you as long as you keep winning. As for the conquered - why struggle? If your way of life was better, you would have won. What has your fighting profited you? The yoke was inevitable. Make peace with your chains, or find yourself torn down to the roots and fed to the soil of the people who will own your lands after you. Those are your only options.
Beshaba, or Lady Doom, is the necessary counterpart to Lady Luck. As every gambler knows, no matter how solid your apparent string of good luck, there will always be the inevitable return to the mean. The Maid of Misfortune reminds you that, at any time, your fortunes could turn - the wheel of life spins, and those on the top can always find themselves on the bottom. She teaches, therefore, to hedge your bets, and guard against the inevitable turn; to look upon those you consider your lessers, and realise how little separates you from them; and to always know when to cut your losses.
Bhaal is a god who reminds you that, when it comes down to it, every king and saint dies just as easily as you do, and history remembers their killers. Not just remembers - some are even celebrated! And that could be you! You could have your name spoken through history as the Slayer of the Tyrant - or, equally, as the Murderer of the Martyr. No matter how messed up your life had been up to that point, however ordinary or provincial, there's always a chance for you to change the course of history - just little old you and one blade, or arrow, or jar of poison. If history is written by the winners, this is your chance to grab the pen. How many other gods offer that?
Dendar is technically only an Elder Primordial, not a deity, but if you talk to a cultist of the Eater of Nightmares, they'll tell you the distinction is mostly academic. She predates most of the modern pantheon, she fights when the gods go to war, and she answers prayers. What more do you want from a deity? They say Dendar is unfairly maligned as causing nightmares. In fact, they say, a more careful reading of the texts indicates that Nightmares exist regardless of her input; and, in fact, without her devouring the fears and nightmares of mortals, they say, we would remember every nightmare we ever experienced. It's pretty obvious that the world would be a worse place if she wasn't doing that. A priest of Dendar will help you when your nights are no longer restful; the venom of Dendar induces dreamful sleep, and the great servant will devour your night terrors, leaving only peaceful dreams and restful nights. She demands no price for this boon. It is simply her nature. Most servants of Dendar once suffered this way themselves; in their gratitude, they traverse the lands, seeking out others who can benefit from the Night Serpent's aid.
Erynthul loves you. He loves every part of you. He especially loves the parts of you that the 'Good' Deities would prefer you keep hidden. He loves your hate, your fear, and your ignorance. He loves your pettiness and your laziness. He loves your trauma and your brokenness. He loves every part of your existence, and he recognises that most of that is not the stuff that hymns are written about. Everyone faces hardship in life. Everyone's a little bit broken by the cruelty of the world. Erythnul says that this, too, should be celebrated. Let others raise their eyes to the heavens in glory; Erythnul wants you to look down, at the mud and blood and crap and piss and sulphur that surrounds us, and realise that this, too, is holy. Erythnul is there at every barroom brawl, every mass-hysteria witch hunt, every time a debt collector breaks a widow's kneecaps and every acrimonious divorce, because without moments like these we wouldn't know how good we have it when there is kindness and beauty and grace. Erythnul is there when you would otherwise be all alone, when every other deity would leave you behind, and he will laugh joyously at your suffering, but he will love you even then, when you truly believe that there is nothing in you that can be loved. Erythnul will never turn away from you.
Gargauth is a close ally of Asmodeus, though the relationship is a strained one. While Asmodeus holds the contract as sacred, and the breaking of agreements as the highest of sins, Gargauth recognises that contracts can easily be exploited by the powerful, and considers turnabout to be fair play. Gargauth knows that power corrupts and that systems tend to distortion and decay, and says "why not take what you can? Better that it be you, who does it with open eyes and good intent, than that it be done by someone who would turn that benefit to your loss." His worshippers invented the Work-to-Rule, the Jobsworth, and the Malicious Compliance. His holy book is the Simple Sabotage Manual. Stay within the rules that protect you, but always seek to bend or avoid those that would confine you for no benefit. Everyone else does - why shouldn't you?
In the ancient times, survival was purely a matter of strength and conditioning. Did you have enough stamina to keep up with the deer? Were you strong enough to make the killing blow? If you weren't strong, you didn't eat. Nowadays, people are weak. Soft. Civilised. First they sharpened edges to make up for their lack of muscle, and crafted bows and throwable spears to make up for their inability to keep up with their prey. Then they came up with ideas like "Farming" and "Currency" and "Written Records". Now the people who rule you are not the strongest, but those who were best educated by their tutors, who can make the best argument about why they should be in charge. Hextor knows that the Final Argument of Kings has always been Violence, and that when steel fails, all that remains is force of will and strength of muscle. "Why should you take orders from your lessers?" Hextor asks. "If it came down to it, only one of you would be walking out of here alive, and he knows it. He fears you for it. Why don't you just remind him?"
Lolth represents Ambition Above All. It's never wrong to want better for yourself. It means you can better look after the things you care about. For Lolth, however, there's no difference between ambition achieved because your value is finally recognised, and ambition achieved because there's no-one left to stop you from taking what could be yours. Lolth doesn't care if you're the best candidate, what matters is that you want it more than they do. Lolth doesn't care if you have the right family or if you know the right people or the special handshake. As long as you're looking forward and pushing to get where you want to be, Lolth is right there with you. The greatest sin to Lolth is Despair; deciding that your lot in life is fixed and that there's nothing you can do about it.
Pyremius is the god of the Crucible. His primary worshippers are alchemists and assassins, but he will take in anyone willing to throw themselves into the fire to purify what remains. As iron sharpens iron, all human improvement comes through struggle and contest. How this contest happens is immaterial; what matters is that two worshippers pit themselves against each other in earnest, and are forever changed by the trial. The Great Work can never be achieved through stasis, and the cleric of Pyremius seeks constantly to refine both themselves and the things around them. The hierarchy of his temples is a true meritocracy - only the most worthy are capable of surviving the constant testing from all directions, for what better measure of worth is there than Survival? They sponsor torunaments and marathons, seeking to find the strongest and most able among the people, and when nations fall into complacency, they engineer Challenges. Pyremius knows that hard times create strong people, and he will not stop until he has refined humanity to perfection.
Shar is the goddess who watches over the hidden and forgotten. Shar looks over those who would be considered inconvenient, and all those who suffer the unspeakable behind closed doors. Shar sees your private pains, your unspoken grief, and your silent regrets. Shar is there to acknowledge your pain, and to bring the hope that, one day, the door will open, and all will be forced to reckon with what was done unto you. Shar tells you that your suffering makes you a better person than your oppressors, and that those responsible deserve to be brought low before you.
Tharizdun is the God of Darkness, Entropy and Despair, creator of the Abyss. History textbooks will tell you that he is one of the few truly Evil gods, seeking only the destruction of the universe as a whole, including himself, and that this is why worship of him must be rooted out wherever it remains. His few followers who survive whisper that this is a short-sighted view. "The world," they tell you, "tends to destruction. All lives must end, and all bodies will rot. Monuments will crumble, parchments will fragment, and in time even the most influential will be forgotten. This is because creation as a whole is flawed. Look to the gods - constantly struggling and feuding. They are only worshipped because people feat the outcome if they don't. Our souls are held captive by their machinations - when we die, we are snatched up by whichever deity took the biggest claim, and set to either serve them in the heavens, or suffer for eternity in the hells. But our souls would exist regardless! Among people, we call it slavery, and rage against those who run the machine - but amongst gods, we simply shrug and accept it as the natural order. Nothing could be further from the truth, and Tharizdun shows us this. Should Tharizdun triumph, he would bring an end to the flawed hegemony of the gods, including himself, and return us to the perfection of pre-existence. Then we shall all be free of the delusions of Creation and the chains of Divinity, and all shall be one."
Vecna values knowledge above all. Not cleverness, or wisdom, or expertise. Not even scholarship, or writing, or learning. Vecna values Knowing Things. He's the god of the Shibboleth, of the Secret Sign, the god of Blackmail and Numbered Lists. Knowledge is what gets you ahead in the world - whether that's knowing who to talk to, or what to say and how to say it, or simply where the bodies are buried. The world is divided into Those who Know and Those who Don't, and those who Don't don't even know what they're missing. For those who Know, the Knowing can be worth any price - this is why Vecna is missing his left hand and eye. If you Know, the world is open to you - and if you can't bring yourself to sacrifice something as minor as an Eye or a Hand for the sake of gaining the World, you will always be left outside.
Finally, a quick view of some simple gods that require no further explanation, and some brief considerations of the canonical "Racial Pantheons", such as they are.
Malar, God of the Hunt. It's not fun if it's a foregone conclusion.
Mask, God of Spies and Thieves. It's a living.
Iuz. Literally emperor of a state. You do not have another option here.
Talos, God of Destruction. Sometimes you need to burn down the forest to let new shoots grow.
Incabulos, God of Disasters. Mostly you just want him somewhere else.
Talona, Goddess of Poison, Disease and Medicine. The Dose Makes The Poison.
Myrkul, God of Death. Memento Mori.
Velsharoon, God of Necromancy and Undeath. Okay I know I just said Memento Mori but come on who really wants to die
The Orc Pantheon
Gruumsh: God of Survival. Orcs are hated by the "Civilised" Races. When everyone you meet wants you dead, the only virtue is in finding ways to live.
Ilneval: God of Strategy. Charging straight forward gets you killed. Survival comes from being smart enough to avoid falling into traps, and strong enough to push through what you can't avoid.
Luthic: Goddess of Humility. Not all of life is war. If you don't know how to live peacefully, you'll get yourself killed.
Bahgtru: God of Simplicity. Other gods make things too complicated. Be as strong as you can be, and let others worry about how to best make use of you.
Shargaas: God of Cunning. Being underestimated makes it easier to position yourself for survival.
Yurtrus: God of Rot. Death is inevitable. Make sure you have a good one.
The Goblinoid Pantheon
Maglubiyet: God of Leadership. Being a goblinoid is pretty cool, actually.
Bargrivyek: God of Cooperation. Please stop stabbing each other for five minutes.
Khurgorbaeyag: God of Doing What You're Told. If you don't defend your position, you'll lose it.
Meriadar: (Mongrelfolk) God of Patience. We'll win in the end. Why rush?
Nomog-Geaya: (Hobgoblin) God of Authority. Maybe that whole 'Civilisation' thing has some stuff going for it.
Hruggek: (Bugbear) God of Violence. Pick your battles. Fights are won by the person willing to escalate fastest.
Grankhul: (Bugbear) God of Ambush. Move Quietly and Carry a Big Sword.
Skiggaret: (Bugbear) God of Fear. The best battle is the one you don't have to fight.
[Unnamed]: (Nilbog) God of Fools. Sometimes things just work out! Don't question it, just take as much advantage as you can before anyone else notices.
Stalker: God of Death. Enemy of all that live. What do we say to the God of Death?
The Drow Pantheon (I am particularly not a fan of this one)
Lolth: Goddess of Ambition, discussed above. It is always correct to seek to better yourself.
Ghaunadaur: God of Adaptability and the Food Chain. All life has its uses. You'll never find where you fit by standing still.
Selvetarm: God of Aggression. Combat is the ultimate test of power and strength. Give it the reverence it is due.
Chaeraun: God of Rebellion. Being a Drow kinda sucks, actually? Maybe we could improve society somewhat? Is a chump.
Kiaransalee: Goddess of Death. Death is not the end; once the soul leaves the body, there's no point being precious about it. Make use of those who have gone before you.
Eilistraee: Fake Goddess. Unnecessary. Cut this one. Why is there both a "Goddess of Good Drow" and a "God of Drow who Dislike Drow Society"? Pick one.
Evil Deities of 'Good' Races
Abbathor: Dwarven God of Greed. Why shouldn't you have the best?
Deep Duerra: Dwarf Goddess of Psionics. Fuck Illithids. Drow are next on the shit list.
Laduguer: Dwarf God of Crafting. Function wins over Form every time.
Vampires in 2020: *Shitting themselves because phones and CCTV are everywhere*
Vampires in 2025: My Prince, I know my childe slipped up and their Masquerade violation is now on Reddit, but I think you should let this one slide because half the commenters are saying it's staged or AI
Ai is a Camarilla invention (Nos design?) to make the masquerade easier to protect. Most Hunters are anti ai because of it. Garou love munching on the wires of AI server banks (their umbra spirits are really annoying).
Was thinking about something funny about D&D, there's a 1st level spell called "Ceremony" that does most things that one would associate with a Cleric (funerary rites, marriages, coming-of-age blessings, and all that) and I never heard of it before because nobody takes it as a spell, when at least to me, logically, it should be something that the class has as default. THOSE are important things that anyone that plays as a "cleric" should be able to do, and one should be able to think about how those ceremonies are made, how do they apply, how different beliefs interact with each other, etc.
Maybe I've heard too many anecdotes about this, but it's so jarring when playing in a setting where gods are actually demonstrably real and have direct effect on their worshipers and the world (how much depends on the setting, but in most fantasy settings this is a fact), many play clerics or other characters as just spell dispensers. I mean, that's how you PLAY them, sure, but not how you should ROLEPLAY them.
This is also common in many fantasy works, where the gods and the supernatural are real, but everybody has the attitude of a 21th century agnostic or atheist (GRRM I'm talking to you bitch). Even in our world, no matter your posture on the supernatural, the belief on it changes peoples lives and mobilizes organizations of millions of people. You should keep that in mind in your writing, in fact you should keep that in mind every time you write something related to religion.
This is the spell by the way, it's actually on one of the latest 5e books (Xanathar's Guide to Everything)
This is really interesting stuff, because much of it fits the role that "clerics" in general have had through history and all sorts of societies. This isn't something that should be a spell, it should be something that every cleric has, with different rituals, components and such for every different god (or creed or belief). And also, isn't it cool that your party's cleric can marry you, or give last rites to a fallen comrade? And wouldn't it be cool to explore how different clerics do different beliefs?
I don't know, this is the kind of thoughts you get when you get an anthropologist to sort through RPG manuals.
One thing I’ve never understood about D&D druids is how they’re so often imagined as stationary. They’re found ‘guarding sacred sites or watching over regions of unspoiled nature’. And, I know. This is mainly because of the imagery and popular imagination around sites like Stonehenge. But.
If I had the druid spell list? I would take Create Bonfire, and I would take Goodberry, and I would take Create or Destroy Water, and I would pack up a sleeping bag, and I would just start walking. Where? Everywhere! What’s down that road? What’s over that hill? What’s up this river? What’s past this forest? What’s over those dunes? Let’s go see! I can’t starve. I can’t parch. I can’t freeze. I can go forever. So I’m gonna.
Honestly, the druid should be the picture of the wandering vagabond. They have everything they need. You can just walk and keep walking, wherever the wanderlust takes you. You wanna go across an ocean? You can make drinking water. Ships should pay to carry you. You wanna go across a desert? A baby druid with one level and 2 measly spell slots under their belt can still make food and a gallon of water a day for 10 people. Druids should be the explorers, the navigators, the pathfinders. They can travel endlessly, without hurting that which they pass through, the very picture of ‘leave nothing but your footprints’. They can walk the earth, stopping here or there along the way to help where they need to help, and fight what they need to fight, and then they can move on again.
Yes, some druids get tired and settle down. Circles are formed, and that’s how baby druids get their starts, finding a circle. And some areas do need a permanent circle to defend or watch over them. But I do think there should be more of a picture, more of an image, more of an option, for the druid as the wanderer, the rover, the vagabond. A pocket full of berries and a wave of a hand for some rain. Just head out and follow your feet. What could stop you?
(Particularly the Stars druid, my beloved. Could there be a better picture of a navigator? That’s where a Stars druid belongs, at the prow of a ship, or guiding their people across trackless dunes, or carrying news across vast ice fields under an endless polar night to keep tiny isolated hamlets connected. Follow the stars, follow your feet. Yes, accomplish things in the process, but the journey itself is also enough. Just walk. Go. The stars will guide you).
Sorry. In real life, so often, I just really want to see what’s down that road, or over that hill. And, like. As a druid you could just go. You have all you need from a standing start. Well. You’ll have to get clothes and good boots and shit, but you can totally feed and water yourself for completely free and regardless of natural resources out there.
More druid wanderers, is my point here. Yes, still some druids guarding henges and forests, but more druids just walking about, poking their noses into things. There is no better spell list to indulge your wanderlust and curiosity. And that’s without getting into wildshape and the eventual ability to explore under the oceans and into the air. There’s a whole world full of nature. You don’t have to tie yourself to one little bit, unless you want to.
When the players are about to visit a new town, pre-generate several NPCs who fit the demographics of the town, but don't give them jobs. Your town is Mostly human, with a number of halflings and gnomes? Make a list that's mostly humans with some halflings and gnomes mixed in, with names that match the vibe you're going for and maybe the barest description + a quirk of some sort.
So the list would look something like this:
Ophelia Bracegurdle, older Halfling woman who laughs a lot
Norabecka Johnson, a young human woman who seems tired
Geraldofinio Babblecock Nimsy, gnome gentleman who takes pains to maintain a fabulous mustache
Etc.
Then, when the players are like, "Can I go to the blacksmith?" You look at your list of NPCs and the one at the top is Ophelia Bracegurdle. She's your blacksmith now. Then they want to go to the tavern, where Norabecka is the innkeeper and Geraldofinio is a patron having a drink at the bar. He's using a straw so he doesn't mess up his mustache.
If they had gone to the inn first, Ophelia would have been the innkeeper with Norabecka as the patron, and then Geraldofinio should have been a blacksmith with some sort of mustache guard to keep the sparks off.
Making the list ahead of time doesn't take much time, and you can often re-use the people you never got to at the next town.
Your world will seem vibrant and interesting and like you have everything planned out.
Since this post has been getting a lot of notes, I would like to clarify a couple of points. This method has a few different benefits I would like people to note:
This prep is fairly simple and easy. You could use a random name generator and find lists of character quirks online or you could just make your own shit up. Because no one has any jobs or stats, you have very little you have to decide ahead of time.
It removes in-the-moment decision making from your game. Because you assign NPCs to roles as the players meet them, you don't have to pick who is gonna be the blacksmith or make up a blacksmith ahead of time.
This third point is the heart of this method for me: Randomization thwarts stereotyping. Some DMs struggle with this more than others, but I know I have made my fair share of gruff burly man blacksmiths! How many of us would really pick Ophelia Bracegurdle, older halfling woman who likes to laugh, to be the blacksmith? Honestly I probably wouldn't. But since in the example the players wanted to go to the blacksmith first, there she is. And now we have the option but not the requirement to think about why and how old Ophelia got her job. Maybe she's a widow who took over for her dead husband. Maybe she just always wanted to be a blacksmith or this town just has always had halfling ladies be their blacksmiths. Or maybe you don't think about it at all, and she's just the blacksmith because she is.
I've been in games where literally every NPC except the pretty barmaid is a man, and pretty much everyone is a light skinned dwarf, elf, or human. I've also been in games with awesome diverse characters who bring the game to life. I know I want to be a DM who creates the latter, and this system helps push back against our unconscious biases. When you have the list of everyone in the town, you can see ahead of time if you have a good gender ratio, whether your descriptions include any people with disabilities or people from different points of view.
Hey! Welcome! Since my silly garbage truck anglerfish post is getting me a bunch of attention right now, check out a post I'm actually proud of while you're here
So, from a worldbuilding perspective, wizards have schools, right? It's an easy 1:1 to go from the idea of people who gets their magic from study to the cultural touchstone of academia, and that helps us figure out what institutions and cultural norms are like in our setting.
Correspondingly, clerics have temples, place where their connection to the divine was fostered among a community of fatihful who share their devotion if not their magical gifts. If you were in a d&d world and needed someone with cleric skills, you'd head toward a temple.
But what do Sorcerers have? They're usually presented as one off oddballs or magical oddities but if power exists it's a logical consequence of worldbuilding that there's going to be institutions dedicated to preserving and refining that power.
I'm going to argue that Sorcerers have dynasties, an extended family who share the collective potential for inheriting the magical gift of their powerful ancestor(s). Dynasties would likely be closely tied to the reigning power structure, extended privileges and patronage the same way that noble families are in exchange for their marital support. If you were a ruler in a d&d world, having Battlecasters on hand to shore up your powerbase is just as important as having cavalry and footmen, so you want to make sure the people who are capable of passing down their magical gift are having kids so that their heirs can support your heirs.
This puts a sorcerous dynasty in an interesting position depending on how people in your world think that magic is inherited. Is the gift recessive? Do you breed for it or follow your heart? Are you having too few children or too many? How does that factor into material inheritance? What do you do with all the children who don't show signs of being able to do magic? What if the gift skips a generation or two one of THEIR children show signs of sorcery? Can you let them marry into other families knowing you might be giving away some of your power? Could you use that as a political bargaining chip? How do you handle bastards? What's your stance on monogomy? How do you handle fertility issues? Is the magic waning over time or is it just diluted or are none of your heirs just not living up to your potential? Is there some unadvised ritual or alchemy or dark pact you can make to restore greatness to your line or awaken dormant potential? Does intermarriage with other magical practitioners of different disciplines strengthen or weaken the chance of inheritance? Is there a way to bend politics in your favour to ensure you get this infusion of new blood? Is that baseborn adventurer with the sorcerous gifts a threat to your power or a potential spouse for your firstborn?
All these are brilliant adventureseeds that I don't think I've seen explored all that often. There's only a specific type of player and a specific type of adventure that are concerned with court politics/brigerton style affairs of the nobility, but making those nobles into spell-slinging-sorcerers make them FAR more relevant characters for the background of an adventure.
The following is not my idea; it was the original brainchild of a friend of mine named Omicron, with help from various others including EarthScorpion, TenfoldShields, @havocfett and ShintheNinja:
So, you know what I want to do one day? Run (or play in) a D&D campaign in which the Big Bad Super Dragon that is fuckoff ancient and unfathomably powerful and whose actions have shaped history and bent the course of nations and had repercussions on the whole culture and society in the region where it's set; the Bonus Special Boss for some endgame optional quest after you defeat the direct BBEG and win the campaign...
... is a white dragon.
To explain this for people not deep into 5e monster lore; D&D dragons are sapient beings, and known for their instincts and tendencies, and whenever you meet an big evil dragon that's really old it's usually this ancient creature of terrible intellect Smaug-ing it up all over the place.
Except white dragons are fucking stupid. Like, they're still capable of speech and thought! They're just… feral, hungry morons. And you almost never see them portrayed as ancient wyrms for that reason; they lack majesty. Critical Role did it, yes, but even then, Vorugal is explicitly the most bestial member of the Chroma Conclave, and the others are the more intelligent planners and long-term threats. An ancient white as a nation-defining endboss, though; not a thug for a smarter master but as the strongest and biggest threat around is just not the sort of thing you tend to see.
Adventurers: "Oh wise Therunax the Munificent, gold dragon of Law and Good, what can you tell us adventurers of the evil dragons which rule this land?"
Therunax the Munificent, 500-year old Gold Dragon: "Good adventurers, know this: this land is torn apart by the evil of Tiamat's spawn. The eastern marches are the dwelling of Furinar the Plague-Bringer, black dragoness whose hoard is a thousand sicknesses contained in the body of her tributes. The southern volcanic mountains are the roosting of Angrar the Wrathful, the fiery red dragon, who brings magmatic fury on all who do not worship him. And the northern peaks are home to Face-Biter Mike, the oldest and most powerful of all, of whom I dread to speak."
Adventurers: "F-Face-Biter Mike???"
Therunax: "Oh yes, verily indeed; two thousand years has Mike lived, and his eyes have seen the rise and fall of five empires, and a hundred and score champions have sought to slay him; and each and every one he bit their fucking face off."
Like... I want to see a campaign where Face-Biter Mike is genuinely the most powerful dragon in the region, if not the entire world. Where sometimes he descends on a city to grab himself some meatsicles and causes a localised ice age by the beat of his vast wings and the frigid wastes of his mighty breath and by the chill his mere presence brings to everything for miles around him, and everyone just has to deal with that for the next decade. An entire era of civilization comes to an end, an empire falls, tens of thousands starve in the winter, all because Mike wanted a snack. Where his hoard is an unfathomably vast mass of jewels and artefacts and precious stones frozen in an unmelting glacier, except he is a nouveau riche idiot with fuckall appraising skill, so half of his hoard is coloured glass or worthless knicknacks, and he doesn't give a shit.
"Your Draconic Majesty, this crown is… It's pyrite."
"Yeah, well, it's brighter than this dusty old thing made out of real gold, it's my new best treasure. Throw the other one away."
"…throw the Burnished Tiara of Bahamut, forged in the First Age of Man, your majesty???"
"See? I can't even remember its fucking name."
"But my lord-"
"DO YOU WANT TO BE A MEATSICLE"
"…I will fetch a trash bag, your majesty."
But at the same time, he's not stupid, he's just simple, and in some ways that makes him more dangerous than the usual kinds of scheming Big Bad you see in these things, while simultaneously justifying why Orcus remains on his throne (because he's lazy). Face-Biter Mike doesn't make convoluted plans or run labyrinthine schemes; he just has a talent for violence and a pragmatic, straightforward approach to turning any kind of problem he struggles with into a problem that can be resolved with violence. Face-Biter Mike has one talent and it's horrifying physical power, so his approach to any complicated problem is "how do I turn this into a situation where I can fly down and bite this dude's face off?" with absolutely no regard for the collateral damage or consequences of doing so, because those are also things he can turn into face-bitable problems.
"My lord, the dread necromancer Nikodemion is using his undead dragons to attempt a conquest of the eastern kingdom; his agents are everywhere, his plans are centuries in the making, what can we do against such a mastermind?"
"I'm gonna fly over the capital and eat the eastern king."
"M-my lord???"
"The kingdom will collapse without leadership, Nikodemion will win his war, he'll take the capital and crown himself king."
"And that helps us… how?"
"Once he does I'll fly over to the capital and eat him."
"…"
"This is why you advisors all suck. You're all about convoluted plans when the only thing I need to win is know where my enemy is so I can fly down there and eat him. Stop overthinking things."
And, like, yeah, it's a simplistic plan, but when you're several hundred tons of nigh invincible magical death, you don't need brilliant strategy; the smartest way to win a war is, in this case, the simplest. He's not even all that clever at figuring out the consequences of face-biting, he's just memorised the common consequences of doing so.
(If you want to go all in on Mike being the major mover and shaker in the region; Nikodemion only even has a pet zombie dragon because Mike killed the last dragon to show up and contest his turf but wasn't going to eat a whole dragon by himself. Nikodemion got to stick around and amass that much power because Mike ate the Hero of the Realm while he was adventuring because he figured the Hero would come and try to slay him at some point. Nikodemion got started because Mike ate half the leadership of the Academy of High Magic who typically keep evil wizards and necromancers in check. And then eventually this product of Mike's casual, careless actions becomes a big enough problem to bother Mike personally, at which point Mike eats him too.)
He doesn't even really fail upwards, either! He is regularly reduced to nothing but the glacier he stores his hoard in, but he's Face-Biter Mike so nobody wants to commit to actually ending him forever lest they get their faces bitten the fuck off. And his hoard's in a huge-ass magical glacier so nobody can get to it without running into the Invading Russia problem; it's hard to wage war when everything is frozen over and you're both starving and freezing to death. Once he's been beaten back to his central lair and has lost all his holdings… I mean, he's still a problem, but he's a far away problem. So he loses his assets and spends a decade in a cave brooding it up while no one dares risk trying to actually kill him, and then a generation or two later he flies down to a kobold colony and gets himself some minions, or a dragon-worshipping mage comes to offer his service against a pittance from his hoard, or a particularly stupid cult starts thinking they can get in good with him and leech off his power, and then he's (hah) snowballing again.
He's also got a very… well, the kind of weird Charisma that Grineer bosses do. Like Sargas Ruk, who's a malformed idiot, but oddly charismatic. As he's a dragon, that makes him a natural sorcerer and thus Charisma is all he needs. He's pretty relaxed when he isn't in a face-biting mood, and he's kind of infectiously optimistic, because his life has taught him that he will succeed as long as he perseveres. So he just believes it.
And sometimes that's really refreshing to work for, as an evil minion of darkness! It's like, you're coming to your Evil Dragon Lord with terrible news; you've worked for evil overlords before, you know how it goes. You fall to your knees weeping and tell him that you've failed to seize the incredibly powerful magical artifact, you think your life is forfeit. And he's just like "Eh, it's okay, these things are all over the place. Better luck next time. You remember the guy who took it, right?" and you go "Y-yes, oh great lord!" and he's like "Sweet tell me his name later and I'll grab it" and then eats a frozen adventurer he kept around as a snack.
His followers tend to quickly realise that if they fail him, bringing some temple's silver or a sack of brightly coloured beads or a couple of dead cows means he's super forgiving because at least he's got something out of the day. "Oh boy, cows? It's been forever since I had those, ever since the Orc Steppe Nomads took over it's all about goats and onions. Today is a good day." He's a master of delegation by dragon standards, in that he just tells you "Just go get it done, I don't care how" rather than micromanaging you and constantly appearing as an image in smoke or taking over your campfire.
The key part of Face-Biter Mike as a threat to players (because he exists in the context of a D&D campaign) works well in that you can rely on several known quantities:
He will not pull sneaky shit that you don't see coming
He will not make convoluted plans that you must work to unravel
He will consistently attempt to come down and wreck you personally if he finds the opportunity and you are a threat to him
You cannot fight him head-on (at least not until the last leg of the campaign, and ideally as an optional boss rather than mandatory)
So as long as you are good at staying under the radar, thwarting his minions (whom he gives broad orders to with almost zero oversight) and not putting yourself in face-biting range, you can deal with him. If you succeed, it won't be the first time Mike has lost his assets and had to go brood in his glacier for a decade or two before rebuilding. It happens; he can deal with it. And that's a win for you within the context of a single campaign, so take the win.
And if you're not going to use him as an enemy, he works pretty well as a quest-giver, too! The costs for failure are obvious and straightforward, and "do whatever, just get me mine" means that players have a lot of freedom in accomplishing their goals. As far as evil overlords go he is actually one of the least dangerous to work for; his pride is relatively subdued by draconic standards, his goals are simple and typically achievable, and he is easily pleased.
(There's also a good chance he is the forefather of any draconic sorcerer in your party, because Face Biter Mike is a deadbeat dad.)
