Meet the newbie
In Game WISH this week, the topic is newbie characters, and the care and feeding of groups that have to incorporate them.
I have very strong feelings about this, I warn you in advance. One of the strongest of these feelings is that integrating characters should not be the GM’s problem, aside from the logistics of the actual introduction. Integrating characters should be the players’ responsibility, and it requires some metagame thought on their part.
To me, it is simply unacceptable to show up to a long-established campaign with a character who is nothing more than numbers on a piece of paper. (One-offs, con rounds, LARPs—different, obviously. I’m talking about straight campaigning here.) That, to me, is treating the GM’s worldbuilding efforts and the other players’ character-building with extreme disrespect.
(Plus it’s disruptive to the collective fiction. Any character swap is going to be—I see more retcons here than anywhere else—which creates, at least for me, both desire and responsibility for keeping the disruption as minimal as possible.)
Now, this doesn’t mean I think you have to have your character’s entire history and personality defined down to the nth degree—what would be the point of roleplaying then? Go write a novel!
I do think, however, that players coming up with new campaign characters must figure out two things. First, they must understand how their characters came to be in the GM’s world. This means no whacko prestige classes that don’t fit the milieu, no pulling feats out of six different obscure sourcebooks just because they’re super-cool, and please no “my character was hanging around in this bar, when…” (I think I must play the only teetotaling D&D characters in gaming history.) Characters ought to take at least some cue from the context they will have to operate in—even if that cue is somehow subversive (as with me it not infrequently is). How can they work within that context otherwise?
I admit that Rat violated this rule a wee bit, though in my own defense I didn’t know until I’d already created the character. The GM’s world didn’t contain halflings. I was quite willing to bend on this when I found out about it—Rat would have made a perfectly fine half-elf. The GM, however, allowed me to keep the character concept, and it worked out all right. (Rat may in fact represent a shift in the cosmogony, but nobody’s quite sure about that, including as best I can tell the GM. She may be just an ordinary lusus naturae.)
Second, players need to know why their characters are joining the party, and why they’ll stick with it. The reason need not be evident at first glance—if, looking ahead, you think your character will develop a friendship with someone else’s, that’s just fine by me. Does the reason have to be wishy-washy nice-nice stuff? Nah. Mercenary contracts happen. Feudal responsibilities just are. Or maybe your character is covering up an extreme hatred for another character preparatory to an assassination attempt. Fine, though I would certainly talk to the other character’s player first!
It’s possible to integrate a very goal-focused character with no intrinsic ties to the rest of the party. The problem, of course, is what that character will do once her goal is met. If you know how you’ll solve this problem (and again, I don’t think it’s quite kosher to have your character just walk away from the group), go for it.
Cooperative versus competitive games—interesting question. I should think it easier for a player to develop a character in a competitive game given a strong tie to the goal of the game. Certainly David is much more involved in the Grand Ellipse now that he’s struck on the reason Prince Deoraj is in the race. (No, shan’t tell—Shirley doesn’t know and neither should anyone else. But it’s a great rationale.)
That said, I doubt it’s impossible to do otherwise. Nothing wrong with following your love interest, or a family member, or a creditor, into a competitive campaign. Again, the question is how you stay in the game—and if you’re a good player, I don’t doubt you’ll find a way.
What is the GM’s role, then? The GM asks the questions. “Okay, where does this character come from? How’d s/he learn to do that? What is s/he doing in this part of the world, given all these exotic tricks learned elsewhere? How do you see this character fitting into the party?”
And sometimes, I hate to say, it is the GM’s responsibility to send the player back to the drawing board. “Cool character, but I honestly don’t see how s/he can work out.” A character who doesn’t fit a campaign may break it. No one wants that.
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