D&D: On the Sole Survivor Trope
Every group has at least one. The player whose homeland or town was somehow razed. Reduced to dust by bandits, them, or an evil army, setting their character forcibly adrift in the world. Youâd be hard-pressed to get into this game and never find one.Â
As a DM, Iâd long since made jokes about this trope. Iâm infamous among certain playgroups for DMing with a Wile E. Coyote-likeness mug at my side. However, in the first session, players can explain backstories to other players as part of introductions. Every time the trope emerges, I take a large, obvious sip out of the mug. Any player may point this out and explain why, and provided itâs the first time this comes up, they get Advantage on a roll of their choosing in that session.Â
But one day, I was handed the opportunity for the joke of a lifetime. To say a silver platter would be an understatement. This was like a solid Platinum DMâs Guide, pages and all.Â
The new setting for this regular group was ideally a mystery to the players. I had constructed it to be a small island nation-state. It did have its own sovereignty, but there were no more than six major townships on the entire island (one for each player). Soon it came time for Session 0s with individual players. To spare you lengthy, similar explanations...
...four of my six players had the trope in their backstory.Â
I started cackling after the final Session 0, out of the playersâ earshot. And I mean Lawful Evil, despicable laughing that would give anxiety to any kickable puppies in a five-mile radius. Because I wasnât just laughing at the trope.Â
I was about to play a very mean-spirited joke.
Session One arrived. I didnât expect there to be another.Â
The players all woke up on a familiar island. One theyâd thought theyâd moved on from long ago. How had they returned?Â
Quickly, the players found that there was nothing of note on the shoreline, so they began to move inland. Eventually, they stumbled on a desolate ruin of what was once a peaceful town. I pointed at the Tiefling.Â
âYou know this place. You grew up here, and you watched the slaughter of its people.âÂ
The players, to their credit, did well in RP to console the Tiefling player. After a brief skirmish with a group of marauders that was riding by through the jungles, they went on.Â
The next village was alive, but in constant fear of bandits. There were no merchants, and any produce of the town was taken as tribute, or the bandits would kill the townsfolk. The players had started to question if the main plot was to restore order to this nation-state and defeat the bandits. They left, being unable to do anything besides wonder at the odd lack of civil commerce of any kind.Â
Then came the tipping point.Â
The players cleared through the next stretch of jungle, and found another village in ruins. I pointed at the Halfling.Â
âYou know this place. You grew up here, and you watched the slaughter of its people.âÂ
I took care to use the exact same words.Â
It was at this point that the Tiefling player, whose village was the first one, started to mull something over. I could see it in her eyes. She was so close to realizing. And then she asked me something along the lines of:Â
âHold on. You said there werenât any more than six villages here. Why are they all destroyed?â
I sneered, ready to deliver the finishing strike.Â
âYou already know the answer. You destroyed these villages. Each of you. With only six veritable towns on this island, they could ill afford to lose two-thirds of their civilization to malicious raids by bandits. Now the island lies in shambles, and civilization is an anarchistic mess of kill-or-be-killed.â
The remaining third of my players, who had not destroyed their own hometowns in writing a backstory, were snickering.Â
âIf that doomed the campaign, why wouldnât you change the setting, then?â One of the players, who had yet to see the remains of the village they had wrecked, protested. âWhat do you expect us to do here now?âÂ
âWell, seeing as the bandits rule everything in immense numbers, no one wants to create a centralized economy for fear of being paid a visit by the bandits and having their lifeâs work sacked, and the easiest way to live is to forsake an honest life and turn to banditry...I guess the best path is to start pillaging, nerds. You wanted villages destroyed? You get everything that goes with it in this situation.âÂ
I easily made my Dex save against a flying d20, and subsequently sipped my Wile E. Coyote mug loudly.Â
âPoint your finger all you want. Throw all the d20s you want. Post recaps of this session anywhere you want. In the end, thereâs no one else to blame but yourselves for destroying this setting. You already know that I prioritize your characters over railroading you into my plot, and this is just evidence of that. Have a nice week! Iâll see you next time with a different world.âÂ
So, kids with tragic backstories, be careful about destroying the place you were born especially en masse. Thereâs a chance the DM might actually make you answer for it.Â