In the lingo of Dungeons and Dragons, and tabletop RPGs in general, ‘murder hobo’ is an unpleasant, but commonly used term for the type of player who’s out to kill first, ask questions never, loot the bodies, and move on – regardless of the impact their actions have on the story or their fellow players. I’ve never been one – but I recently had an experience that reminded me how easy it can be to step over the line, and it taught me important lessons about good roleplaying.
We were playing Blades in the Dark – Evil Hat Productions’ delightfully grimy game of low fantasy crime and skulduggery (and incidentally one of the best tabletop RPGs out there, you must try it). Most of our skeezy little gang, The Damned Emporium, were at the end of a pier, loosely disguised as dockworkers, busily attempting to rob a pile of cargo and load it into our boat – but my burglar/assassin character Friedrich, being less brawny, was skulking around on the dockside keeping watch.
Before long, the dock guards began to cotton on to the fact we weren’t who we said we were. Several vest-wearing toughs started edging towards my comrades, and it became clear things were about to get a lot more heated. And that’s where the problem began.
See, Friedrich had recently been through some traumatic stuff (trauma is a big theme in Blades) after a botched burglary of a museum that did some spooky arcane stuff to his brain. As a result, he was pretty fatalistic, death-obsessed, and keen to take wild risks. Experienced roleplayers will already be groaning, seeing the “it’s what my character would do” moment grinding inexorably closer. And they’re right.
Well, caught up in the moment, anticipating a fight, and seeing the opportunity to sneak up behind a dock guard for an DnD Rogue-slash-Assassin’s Creed moment, I swooped in and pushed the guy over the side of the jetty, into the lethal poison waters below. I even gave a narrative description of my character looking into the doomed man’s fearful eyes as he fell – dark stuff, which could have satisfied everyone given proper warning and consent, but which, in my enthusiasm, I sprang on my pals out of the blue.
After that, two things happened. Firstly, all hell broke loose in the game – not only did the dockworker’s death attract the Spirit Wardens (powerful NPCs who collect ghosts after every fatality) but the whole dock immediately became hostile, forcing our crew to fight our way out with a fraction of the intended loot.
And, secondly, my fellow players and GM all went a bit shocked and quiet. Nobody had expected the act, or the description. The tone and impact may have felt right for my character, but it had also messed up the mission and freaked out my friends. We paused play and discussed it out of character.
The group was split. One player had no qualms; he dug the drama and shock value of what I’d done. Most weren’t against it per se, but were pissed off about my accidentally sabotaging the heist without permission (things were going to get bad, but I’d undoubtedly made them worse).
Psychologically, nobody felt my actions were off limits – but most of the group were surprised at how shaken they’d felt. Our endlessly patient forever GM liked the storytelling, but reminded me that running these ideas by him first allows him to weave them in, and soften the blow.
It was a teaching moment for us – consent in tabletop RPGs is vital, but it can slip in long-standing, close-knit play groups, after years of never having any issues. For me, it was a rude awakening, a realization that I’d got too tied up in my own character’s headspace, and forgotten to consider the needs and interests of my friends (in-game and out). I felt awful, and apologized – luckily, my friends are an understanding bunch.
Roleplaying games are a constant balance of two complementary, but often competing priorities: the roleplaying, and the game. For everyone to have a good time, each player needs to keep a balance between actions that enrich their character’s personal story, and actions that progress the group’s goals and move the adventure forward.
So much of the good brainfeel you can get from TTRPGs is tied up in inhabiting your character, and doing ‘what your character would do’, that it’s real easy to follow that thread into choices that aren’t helpful or fun for everyone else around the table. There’s always the risk, too, that those choices could make folks uncomfortable, if you’re not careful to use consent tools right (or if your group has become so comfy and settled that they’ve fallen out of use altogether).
The experience has taught me that, when that happens, it’s OK – indeed, essential – to stop play, break character, and discuss openly with everyone what happened, how we feel about that, whether we should change anything, how to go forward, and what we’d like to do differently next time. It’s everyone’s story, and big stuff that changes it deserves to be done in a way that includes everyone.
This happened in Blades in the Dark – a rules-light, narrative driven RPG with lots of description, where heavy themes are commonplace, but there’s a lot of narrative flexibility to help smooth over some issues. In some ways, this episode hit us harder because combat and death feel so much more weighty and costly in that game.
DnD campaigns, by comparison, are usually primarily driven by combat, the tone tends to be lighter, and players are mechanically encouraged to slaughter hostile beasties by the dozen – including humans, when the need arises. But for all that, there’s no less need for care and attention about how your deeds affect your comrades – perhaps even more vigilance is needed, to prevent you being blindsided by an unexpected issue, after your consent senses have been dulled by weeks of wanton goblin-crushing.
Either way, against the odds, killing a guy in cold blood has made me a more thoughtful, group-minded DnD player – and hopefully, you won’t now need to make similar mis-steps in order to learn the lesson.
For more dungeoneering reads, you should definitely check out Mollie Russell’s 2024 Dungeon Master’s Guide review and her piece about the consent tools in it. Or, to get back to basics, read our complete guides to DnD races and the DnD classes ranked.
Source: Wargamer
