Dungeonosophy
Legend
Over in the "Argument-Stopping Protocols" thread, ENWorlders gave me advice in regard to ongoing conflict/dissonance with my fellow co-DM (we switch off DMing and playing). We are best friends (in some ways), but it has often been hard gaming with him. I'm posting an update here in a different thread, hopefully so that my players won't find this discussion, where I speak more frankly.
So, I shared what y'all suggested. Me and the other co-DM met face-to-face and read your comments aloud. Then we argued some more. But also had some emotional breakthrough. But then we argued more the next day on the phone. Which blew my fuse. So I sat down and hammered out a list of all the issues I feel sore about from our year+ of play, and what changes would resolve those for me, so that I could look forward to playing.
I turned those issues into Twenty Table Rules. I just sent this to my friend this morning, and am waiting for his response.
As you can see, we've had some issues.
PART I
Travis' Table Rules
Version 0.1, March 26th, 2020
Table Rule Zero: I'm the DM.
When I am DMing, it is my table. This is the way it's always been in D&D. Ever since D&D was invented in 1974, the Dungeon Master has always been the master of the table—master of both the rules and master of the fictional world. In all aspects, the DM has the final and total say—like the writer, director, and producer of a play, and the author, editor, and publisher of a novel…all rolled into one. The DM can make up rules on the spot, fudge the dice, repeatedly change rules, alter a monster's hit points and stats on the fly, retcon the story, switch to a different rules system, and even modify your character's traits, stats, and features!…anything, at any time, at any moment. D&D has always been like that. That's not authoritarianism…it's authorial sovereignty. That's just the way D&D rolls.
The DM is of course obligated to be respectful of the players as human beings. And the players (moreso than actors in a play) have individual sovereignty over their own character's choices and actions. That is a lot. Yet even the PCs' stats and fluff (bio) are subject to DM modification, when that character enters the DM's milieu.
Within the game, whatever the DM says goes. Period. If a player doesn't like it, they can find another DM…or step up to DM yourself! Likewise, when you are DMing, I respect your authorial initiative.
"You're the DM, and you are in charge of the game."— 5e Dungeon Masters Guide
Table Rule One: The Social Contract. Having said that, of course there is a "social contract"—we are here to have fun, and to co-create a story based on a relatively consistent and stable set of rules. It's great to provide occasional opportunities for the players to further invest in co-creating the world; but I retain total editorial discretion on each and every facet of that world.
Even fun, co-creation, and rules stability are secondary to the authorial independence and artistic initiative of the Dungeon Master. There is no Rule One without Rule Zero.
In my experience, Rule One (superficially maximizing the players' entertainment and wish-fulfillment) without Rule Zero leads to co-dependency and people-pleasing, followed by negotiations, arguments, demoralization, and unfun (for the DM, and then for others).
Table Rule Two: Alcohol and Substance Free. I run an alcohol and substance free table. Thank you.
Table Rule Three: "PG" in regard to goriness, horror, and cursing. In those three regards, I run a "PG" table. In regard to serious themes and intense challenges, the storylines may have adult gravity.
The DM can and will redirect a player's language which seems to be going in a gruesome or explicit direction. Though the words "kill" and "dead" are not totally banned, I strongly prefer the words "slay", "defeat", "overcome", and "down", as in: "I slew/defeated/overcame the monster." and "The monster is down." I also prefer the word "volley" or "release" instead of "shoot." "I volley/release an arrow at the monster." And "fight" or "battle" or "affray" (the world Tolkien uses) instead of "combat."
As for curses, I and my table mostly refrain from the four letter words. This includes pre-game and post-game conversation. Feel free to use mild oaths, such as "darn." Another option is to invent fantastic, creative curses and exclamations, which are tied into D&D lore. Such as "By the sainted dog!", "gods!", "Nine Hells!" (or "Hells!" for short)—these have all appeared in D&D fiction. Tolkien's dwaves use "drat!" as the f-word (as in "drat him!"), and his hobbits' f-word is"fiddlesticks!" Gandalf uses "great elephants!" and "in the name of all wonder!"
Table Rule Four: Evil-ish PCs are Okay, But Player-vs.Player Conflict is Not Okay. Though it hasn't really come up in our group yet, most PCs will be Good or Neutral in alignment. However, you are allowed to play an Evil-aligned character, with these caveats:
1) Your Evil PC must be of the "not-quite-so-evil" type of Anti-Hero, like Raistlin Majere and Dalamar the Dark Elf (two Black-Robed Wizards in the World of Krynn), or (the later evolution of) Artemis Entreri the assassin in the World of Toril, or even Eric the Cavalier in the Realm of the D&D Cartoon Show or Edmund in the Chronicles of Narnia. (In fact, even if your PC is Evil, they can't be as much as a jerk as Eric and Edmund were! See caveat #3.)
2) Your PC's Evil alignment is just background flavor. Though your PC may be aligned with an adversarial organization (such as a cabal of Evil wizards or an Assassin's Guild), or has a major chip on their shoulder and is angry at the whole world, or maybe has a troubled, criminal past, the PC effectively functions in the game as just another friendly-ish character. Their Evil aspect is just edgy background flavor.
3) Your Evil PC must not actually betray the party. Like Raistlin in the Companions of the Lance, or Artemis Entreri in the Sellswords, the Evil PC considers the party to be genuine friends. Even Evil people have friends. Though there might be dramatic tension among the party members due to differing ethos, no major PvP conflict, fighting, and betrayal are allowed. (Except for maybe a dramatic scuffle or two.) The DM reserves the right to veto and retcon actions along these lines. The same applies to thievery—no (permanent) stealing of stuff from fellow party members.
4) See Table Rule #3. Even Evil PCs must be PG in their actions—e.g. no gruesome descriptions, no random acts of violence, etc. Raistlin's "noble evil"—as seen in his kindness toward the gully dwarves—is an ideal archetype.
Table Rule Five: Emotional Serenity. It's against table etiquette to express temper, disturbedness, or wrath at character setbacks, including death of your PC or allies; injury or dismemberent; loss, theft, or breakage of magic items, equipment, or wealth; poor dice rolls by yourself or others; high rolls by the DM; or TPL (Total Party Loss). It's D&D. That's what happens.
If you are truly feeling emotionally unbalanced in the moment, you are welcome and encouraged to call for a break—to take a breather, drink some water, get a shoulder rub, and take counsel with the DM and other kindly friends about your emotional state.
I have always disdained those of our friends who become actually disturbed when playing the game Werewolf. After witnessing this folly a couple times, I began to announce and remind everyone at the start, that this is a work of fiction, like a play; and that we are playing fictional roles—roles which could include dishonesty and treachery—just as in a Shakespeare play. The dishonesty of the fictional role has no bearing on the morality of the actor. Any confusion of the two is sheer foolishness. In the same way that it's total folly to feel actually disturbed by watching, say, a production of Macbeth. I witnessed Laurie Portocarrero's teenage Shakespeare on the Green actors stab each other with swords on the Philmont Village Green. Should I be horrified and disturbed? Will I never look at those young people the same? Are they morally compromised? No, don't be silly.
I would say the same to D&D players. Please refrain from such confusion. Take hold of your emotional life during play. Serenity is the watchword.
Table Rule Six: No Comments about the DM's High Rolls. Furthermore, even if you say it in a lighthearted way, I do not want to hear any comments at all about the DM's "luck" or high rolls. I don't believe in luck or unluck, or "spirits of gambling." You're welcome to lightheartedly (but not angrily) comment about your own luck or unluck, but not about other players' rolls (unless positive, like "nice roll!"), or the DM's (at all).
Table Rule Seven: Magnanimous World Acceptance (MWA). The principle of MWA means that even if I flub something up, forget an important fact, mix up the story, or totally misunderstand how a rule works, it still happened. There must've been some kind of weird reality-blip that resulted in that.
For example, if I forgot to apply a monster's special power, then the monster just wasn’t inclined (was too startled/excited/angry) to use the power in that moment. In the chaos of battle or tense social interaction, monsters and NPCs can forget important things. That's just what happened. Or if I got the map mixed up, then some reality-bending effect actually warped the space, perhaps temporarily. The D&D worlds are mysterious, and not always predictable.
MWA trumps the rules. But, if you spot a rules mistake in the moment, you're welcome to speak up. (See Table Rule #9.) And it could also be something to bring up after the "24-hour delay" (see Table Rule #11).
Table Rule Eight: Non-Self-Perfectionism—Tactical Mistakes Happen (TMH). Similarly, if you make a tactical mistake, and the next player has begun their turn, we generally will not rewind to retcon the story. It's okay to feel and express light dismay ("darn!"), but not to yell in anger. For example, if you inadvertantly targeted an area-effect spell in a way that will catch an ally in the fire (or vice versa, your PC is effected by someone else's mistake), and no one caught it before the next player started their turn, that's just too bad. It's 'friendly fire' and the fog of war.
Also, it is in no way the DM's responsibility to catch your mistakes or sub-par choices beforehand—I have enough to do to run the monsters and the rest of the setting. You are totally responsible for your PC. Even if your PC would be more adept than you are, they still made the mistake, due to a mental slip, a moment of confusion, or whatever. If I notice a looming mistake, and I feel like it, I may or may not point it out, at my total discretion and whim. I am not a bad person if I choose to let friendly fire or other mishap happen.
(Of course, there's an exception for total newcomers—we are here to guide them—but once you basically know how to play the game, you'll be learning from your own mistakes.)
Personal note: That's how my Psion perished in the Third Edition campaign I was playing in San Diego. Caught in the edge of afireball, IIRC. After a moment of light dismay and laughs and mourning—I happily rolled up a new character.
Tactical mistakes happen in D&D. "TMH" is part of the game, and part of the story.
Table Rule Nine: It's okay to try to correct me in the moment. If you think that I'm running something incorrectly (according to your understanding of the 5E Rules-As-Written, or whatever ruleset I'm using)— it's okay to speak up. It could be helpful to me.
Yet sometimes it may be the case that you don't know all the factors, and I may say so. If our understandings still differ, then see the next table rule…on Argument Protocol.
Table Rule Ten: Argument Protocol I—The One-to-Three-Minute Limit for Making a Case. If during the game (or possibly even outside of the game, such as during a rules discussion afterward, or on the phone), a player has a point of contention (such as about the rules), I can set a limit between one and three minutes to make your case, at my discretion. I may ask one of the other players to serve as time-keeper. When the time is up, I'll make a ruling, which will stand for now, until I can research the issue more fully.
I can unilaterally extend the time-limit if I wish, but the intent is to strongly limit rules arguments, for the sake of the entire table. In fact, other players can also speak up and request for an argument to be timed. This time limit is currently being playtested by me, to see whether one minute or 3 minutes works best for my table.
Table Rule 10.1: As the pinnacle of crazed, endlessly prickly, codependent wrangling, no player is ever to speak to me again about the Shield Master Feat, or any variant or hack thereof, or speak about its merits or demerits, within my earshot. haha. Seriously.
Table Rule Eleven: Argument Protocol II—The Twenty-Four Hour Delay. As the game session wraps up, and we are getting ready to head home, as DM I do not want to hear any criticism or negativity at that time, even obliquely. I would be happy for a few compliments ora simple "thanks", a smile, and a handshake.Even if I did a terrible job, I put a lot of work into it. I need you to wait least till morning of the next day before coming to me with issues and complaints. You're welcome to do so then. Players are encouraged to keep a piece of note-paper during play, where you write down all the things that rubbed you the wrong way. I welcome frank feedback…after a night has passed.
Table Rule Twelve: Argument Protocol III—No Grumbling, Griping, or Underhanded Sniping at the DM During Play. Don't be such a critic or "auteur." For example, I do not want to hear your criticismsor off-hand comments about there being too few or too many magic items, not enough plusses on the sword, or not the right kind of magic weapons found. I don't want to hear there should be no traps in D&D. (Let me assure you there will be many, many traps in your way in the months to come…that's D&D!) And so forth. Stop griping during play.
Even if I'm using a pre-made module, griping directed at the module's author is griping at me. Even when using a published module, the DM is truly the auteur—the author.
You're welcome to openly bring your concerns to me in the moment—via a quick correction (Table Rule #9), a one-to-three minute case (Table Rule #10), or to write yourself a note to bring those issues to me after a 24-Hour Delay (Table Rule #11).
Table Rule Thirteen: Argument Protocol IV—For my part, I will aim for a gentle, moderate tone when correcting/redirecting players, rather than press too hard upon anyone who has made any kind of mistake. I believe that if people are encouraged, and I am light about goof-ups, then people tend to have more courage to experiment in the moment be innovative and all that good stuff and I think we have more fun. You are welcome to remind me of this Table Rule if I speak in a hard tone.
Table Rule Fourteen: Refrain from reading of reviews or articles about modules which I'm planning to DM. If you know the title of the module we're currently playing, or you've heard that I'm planning to run a certain module in the future, it is poor sportsmanship to read about those modules. Even a so-called "critically panned" module can be brought to life in a uniquely fun or curious way.
And even if there are no spoilers (and there almost always are!), reading reviews tramples on the effort and joy I put into prepping the adventure. Like:"Oh, you're planning to run this module? I heard that this module sucks." Not cool. That's trampling.
Table Rule Fifteen: Gratitude for Illustrations. I do not want to hear any criticism of D&D artwork or illustrations which I show to the players during a game—unless the image is gruesome or horrifying. (And I myself have tried to refrain, and will continue to refrain, from showing such images—but you're still welcome to speak up if what I show is still too scary/unsettling for you. )
But if the illustration is merely cartoonish, clumsily drawn, ugly-ish, or 'materialistic', I don't want to hear any criticism. (At least not until afte rthe 24-Hour Delay.) Just because a piece of artwork is not a Steinerian veil-painting, drawn by Anthroposophically-Aware artists, doesn't mean it's totally worthless. Don't be such an "aesthete","Steiner church lady," and critic. Please be glad for any visual aids which are offered.
Table Rule Sixteen: Come Prepared to Play. This includes:
1) Regular players at my table must acquire a copy of the Players Handbook—Fifth Edition. (Newcomers have a few grace sessions where they can decide whether they are in or out, before they get the book.) Our club has one loaner copy. (Despite this requirement, I retain the right to change to a different ruleset someday, at my whim.)
2) You must read the following sections in the PHB before sitting at my table. (Unless you are a newcomer, here to try it out.):
3) You must have your character sheet filled out.
4) Spell descriptions (and magic item descriptions) must be fully noted: either by hand-writing the description out fully on your sheet, or cut and pasting and printing it out, or marking those pages in your PHB with labeled post-it tabs, or (at the very least) writing the page numbers on your sheet.
5) You are responsible for not being overly tired. If you had a long day, please at least grab a short nap, and/or drink some tea, and/or take a refreshing short walk before coming to play that night. You owe it your fellow participants to be wakeful and attentive. When you are at the table, willfully take hold of your energetic sheath—slap and shake yourself if necessary, rub your face and limbs, drink lots of water, or even call for a break to get fresh air.
Try hard to preëmpt yawniness, but if you do yawn, table etiquette is to cover your mouth and say some sort of "excuse me"—and even to stick out your hand and say something like: "hold up, I feel a yawn coming." My table pauses for yawns. If you are too tired, we may need to stop early, which could be a disservice to our shared plans for the evening.
Table Rule Seventeen: Smiling Helpfulness. If something is offered by me or another player—say, we drew our character or wrote up our last adventure as a novel—the normative humane response is to smile widely and say "Awesome!" or "Pretty cool! Thanks for showing me!" Because it must be awesome in some way—it's at least awesome that they made the effort.
And something which I would be most glad for is this: ultra-intentional, warm-hearted, super-supportive helpfulness and camaraderie. If I or another player are spinning our wheels, getting bogged down, flustered, or confused—offer to help them. "How may I help?"
Table Rule Eighteen: I'm free to modify these Table Rules. Even these table rules can be modified by the DM at will. However, I intend to let you know of substantive changes or additions, which you can agree to or not.
Table Rule Nineteen: Due Process. So what happens if you don't abide by my table rules? Well, I really hope we can speak as adults, best friends, and human beings. Hopefully, occasional slips can be dealt with via gentle re-directions in the moment, or by a DM-player consultation after the 24-Hour Delay.
I'd also be grateful for other players' help in reminding each other of slips in the moment, like: "Dude, you're slamming on the artwork (or making comments about other players' low rolls, etc)—that's against the Table Rules. C'mon man." My serious wish is that having each player read and sign the Table Rules may help us all get on the same page.
A more intensive option would be to call for a table business meeting dedicated to resolving the dispute or disruption.
Yet, at all stages of the process, the consequences are at my total discretion . it could range from a zany, old-skool, Gygaxian-style, in-game "punishment" of your character…to ejecting a player from my Table temporarily (until comensurate amends are made)…or permanently. If the campaign and group dynamic remains un-nourishing to me as DM, I could of course also disband the group. It's not the end of the world.
Note: our D&D Club is not identical to my Table/Campaign. There may eventually be more "tables" (DMs) in our D&D Club. If I have an issue with a player at my Table, that doesn't necessarily translate to the Club as a whole. The householder / host of the meeting space also of course has their own general parameters as householder.
Table Rule Twenty: There is only one Agreement to make. These aren't multilaterally negotiated ageements. To join my table, a player must read and agree to these Table Rules. This is The Agreement. If you don't understand these provisions, or if you have clarifying questions, do not hesitate to ask beforehand. By signing this, you agree to play by my rules, in my world. If you can't or won't agree to that in good faith, then don't sign—and find another DM.
___________ ______________________________
Date Read Player Signature
So, I shared what y'all suggested. Me and the other co-DM met face-to-face and read your comments aloud. Then we argued some more. But also had some emotional breakthrough. But then we argued more the next day on the phone. Which blew my fuse. So I sat down and hammered out a list of all the issues I feel sore about from our year+ of play, and what changes would resolve those for me, so that I could look forward to playing.
I turned those issues into Twenty Table Rules. I just sent this to my friend this morning, and am waiting for his response.
As you can see, we've had some issues.
PART I
Travis' Table Rules
Version 0.1, March 26th, 2020
Table Rule Zero: I'm the DM.
When I am DMing, it is my table. This is the way it's always been in D&D. Ever since D&D was invented in 1974, the Dungeon Master has always been the master of the table—master of both the rules and master of the fictional world. In all aspects, the DM has the final and total say—like the writer, director, and producer of a play, and the author, editor, and publisher of a novel…all rolled into one. The DM can make up rules on the spot, fudge the dice, repeatedly change rules, alter a monster's hit points and stats on the fly, retcon the story, switch to a different rules system, and even modify your character's traits, stats, and features!…anything, at any time, at any moment. D&D has always been like that. That's not authoritarianism…it's authorial sovereignty. That's just the way D&D rolls.
The DM is of course obligated to be respectful of the players as human beings. And the players (moreso than actors in a play) have individual sovereignty over their own character's choices and actions. That is a lot. Yet even the PCs' stats and fluff (bio) are subject to DM modification, when that character enters the DM's milieu.
Within the game, whatever the DM says goes. Period. If a player doesn't like it, they can find another DM…or step up to DM yourself! Likewise, when you are DMing, I respect your authorial initiative.
"You're the DM, and you are in charge of the game."— 5e Dungeon Masters Guide
Table Rule One: The Social Contract. Having said that, of course there is a "social contract"—we are here to have fun, and to co-create a story based on a relatively consistent and stable set of rules. It's great to provide occasional opportunities for the players to further invest in co-creating the world; but I retain total editorial discretion on each and every facet of that world.
Even fun, co-creation, and rules stability are secondary to the authorial independence and artistic initiative of the Dungeon Master. There is no Rule One without Rule Zero.
In my experience, Rule One (superficially maximizing the players' entertainment and wish-fulfillment) without Rule Zero leads to co-dependency and people-pleasing, followed by negotiations, arguments, demoralization, and unfun (for the DM, and then for others).
Table Rule Two: Alcohol and Substance Free. I run an alcohol and substance free table. Thank you.
Table Rule Three: "PG" in regard to goriness, horror, and cursing. In those three regards, I run a "PG" table. In regard to serious themes and intense challenges, the storylines may have adult gravity.
The DM can and will redirect a player's language which seems to be going in a gruesome or explicit direction. Though the words "kill" and "dead" are not totally banned, I strongly prefer the words "slay", "defeat", "overcome", and "down", as in: "I slew/defeated/overcame the monster." and "The monster is down." I also prefer the word "volley" or "release" instead of "shoot." "I volley/release an arrow at the monster." And "fight" or "battle" or "affray" (the world Tolkien uses) instead of "combat."
As for curses, I and my table mostly refrain from the four letter words. This includes pre-game and post-game conversation. Feel free to use mild oaths, such as "darn." Another option is to invent fantastic, creative curses and exclamations, which are tied into D&D lore. Such as "By the sainted dog!", "gods!", "Nine Hells!" (or "Hells!" for short)—these have all appeared in D&D fiction. Tolkien's dwaves use "drat!" as the f-word (as in "drat him!"), and his hobbits' f-word is"fiddlesticks!" Gandalf uses "great elephants!" and "in the name of all wonder!"
Table Rule Four: Evil-ish PCs are Okay, But Player-vs.Player Conflict is Not Okay. Though it hasn't really come up in our group yet, most PCs will be Good or Neutral in alignment. However, you are allowed to play an Evil-aligned character, with these caveats:
1) Your Evil PC must be of the "not-quite-so-evil" type of Anti-Hero, like Raistlin Majere and Dalamar the Dark Elf (two Black-Robed Wizards in the World of Krynn), or (the later evolution of) Artemis Entreri the assassin in the World of Toril, or even Eric the Cavalier in the Realm of the D&D Cartoon Show or Edmund in the Chronicles of Narnia. (In fact, even if your PC is Evil, they can't be as much as a jerk as Eric and Edmund were! See caveat #3.)
2) Your PC's Evil alignment is just background flavor. Though your PC may be aligned with an adversarial organization (such as a cabal of Evil wizards or an Assassin's Guild), or has a major chip on their shoulder and is angry at the whole world, or maybe has a troubled, criminal past, the PC effectively functions in the game as just another friendly-ish character. Their Evil aspect is just edgy background flavor.
3) Your Evil PC must not actually betray the party. Like Raistlin in the Companions of the Lance, or Artemis Entreri in the Sellswords, the Evil PC considers the party to be genuine friends. Even Evil people have friends. Though there might be dramatic tension among the party members due to differing ethos, no major PvP conflict, fighting, and betrayal are allowed. (Except for maybe a dramatic scuffle or two.) The DM reserves the right to veto and retcon actions along these lines. The same applies to thievery—no (permanent) stealing of stuff from fellow party members.
4) See Table Rule #3. Even Evil PCs must be PG in their actions—e.g. no gruesome descriptions, no random acts of violence, etc. Raistlin's "noble evil"—as seen in his kindness toward the gully dwarves—is an ideal archetype.
Table Rule Five: Emotional Serenity. It's against table etiquette to express temper, disturbedness, or wrath at character setbacks, including death of your PC or allies; injury or dismemberent; loss, theft, or breakage of magic items, equipment, or wealth; poor dice rolls by yourself or others; high rolls by the DM; or TPL (Total Party Loss). It's D&D. That's what happens.
If you are truly feeling emotionally unbalanced in the moment, you are welcome and encouraged to call for a break—to take a breather, drink some water, get a shoulder rub, and take counsel with the DM and other kindly friends about your emotional state.
I have always disdained those of our friends who become actually disturbed when playing the game Werewolf. After witnessing this folly a couple times, I began to announce and remind everyone at the start, that this is a work of fiction, like a play; and that we are playing fictional roles—roles which could include dishonesty and treachery—just as in a Shakespeare play. The dishonesty of the fictional role has no bearing on the morality of the actor. Any confusion of the two is sheer foolishness. In the same way that it's total folly to feel actually disturbed by watching, say, a production of Macbeth. I witnessed Laurie Portocarrero's teenage Shakespeare on the Green actors stab each other with swords on the Philmont Village Green. Should I be horrified and disturbed? Will I never look at those young people the same? Are they morally compromised? No, don't be silly.
I would say the same to D&D players. Please refrain from such confusion. Take hold of your emotional life during play. Serenity is the watchword.
Table Rule Six: No Comments about the DM's High Rolls. Furthermore, even if you say it in a lighthearted way, I do not want to hear any comments at all about the DM's "luck" or high rolls. I don't believe in luck or unluck, or "spirits of gambling." You're welcome to lightheartedly (but not angrily) comment about your own luck or unluck, but not about other players' rolls (unless positive, like "nice roll!"), or the DM's (at all).
Table Rule Seven: Magnanimous World Acceptance (MWA). The principle of MWA means that even if I flub something up, forget an important fact, mix up the story, or totally misunderstand how a rule works, it still happened. There must've been some kind of weird reality-blip that resulted in that.
For example, if I forgot to apply a monster's special power, then the monster just wasn’t inclined (was too startled/excited/angry) to use the power in that moment. In the chaos of battle or tense social interaction, monsters and NPCs can forget important things. That's just what happened. Or if I got the map mixed up, then some reality-bending effect actually warped the space, perhaps temporarily. The D&D worlds are mysterious, and not always predictable.
MWA trumps the rules. But, if you spot a rules mistake in the moment, you're welcome to speak up. (See Table Rule #9.) And it could also be something to bring up after the "24-hour delay" (see Table Rule #11).
Table Rule Eight: Non-Self-Perfectionism—Tactical Mistakes Happen (TMH). Similarly, if you make a tactical mistake, and the next player has begun their turn, we generally will not rewind to retcon the story. It's okay to feel and express light dismay ("darn!"), but not to yell in anger. For example, if you inadvertantly targeted an area-effect spell in a way that will catch an ally in the fire (or vice versa, your PC is effected by someone else's mistake), and no one caught it before the next player started their turn, that's just too bad. It's 'friendly fire' and the fog of war.
Also, it is in no way the DM's responsibility to catch your mistakes or sub-par choices beforehand—I have enough to do to run the monsters and the rest of the setting. You are totally responsible for your PC. Even if your PC would be more adept than you are, they still made the mistake, due to a mental slip, a moment of confusion, or whatever. If I notice a looming mistake, and I feel like it, I may or may not point it out, at my total discretion and whim. I am not a bad person if I choose to let friendly fire or other mishap happen.
(Of course, there's an exception for total newcomers—we are here to guide them—but once you basically know how to play the game, you'll be learning from your own mistakes.)
Personal note: That's how my Psion perished in the Third Edition campaign I was playing in San Diego. Caught in the edge of afireball, IIRC. After a moment of light dismay and laughs and mourning—I happily rolled up a new character.
Tactical mistakes happen in D&D. "TMH" is part of the game, and part of the story.
Table Rule Nine: It's okay to try to correct me in the moment. If you think that I'm running something incorrectly (according to your understanding of the 5E Rules-As-Written, or whatever ruleset I'm using)— it's okay to speak up. It could be helpful to me.
Yet sometimes it may be the case that you don't know all the factors, and I may say so. If our understandings still differ, then see the next table rule…on Argument Protocol.
Table Rule Ten: Argument Protocol I—The One-to-Three-Minute Limit for Making a Case. If during the game (or possibly even outside of the game, such as during a rules discussion afterward, or on the phone), a player has a point of contention (such as about the rules), I can set a limit between one and three minutes to make your case, at my discretion. I may ask one of the other players to serve as time-keeper. When the time is up, I'll make a ruling, which will stand for now, until I can research the issue more fully.
I can unilaterally extend the time-limit if I wish, but the intent is to strongly limit rules arguments, for the sake of the entire table. In fact, other players can also speak up and request for an argument to be timed. This time limit is currently being playtested by me, to see whether one minute or 3 minutes works best for my table.
Table Rule 10.1: As the pinnacle of crazed, endlessly prickly, codependent wrangling, no player is ever to speak to me again about the Shield Master Feat, or any variant or hack thereof, or speak about its merits or demerits, within my earshot. haha. Seriously.
Table Rule Eleven: Argument Protocol II—The Twenty-Four Hour Delay. As the game session wraps up, and we are getting ready to head home, as DM I do not want to hear any criticism or negativity at that time, even obliquely. I would be happy for a few compliments ora simple "thanks", a smile, and a handshake.Even if I did a terrible job, I put a lot of work into it. I need you to wait least till morning of the next day before coming to me with issues and complaints. You're welcome to do so then. Players are encouraged to keep a piece of note-paper during play, where you write down all the things that rubbed you the wrong way. I welcome frank feedback…after a night has passed.
Table Rule Twelve: Argument Protocol III—No Grumbling, Griping, or Underhanded Sniping at the DM During Play. Don't be such a critic or "auteur." For example, I do not want to hear your criticismsor off-hand comments about there being too few or too many magic items, not enough plusses on the sword, or not the right kind of magic weapons found. I don't want to hear there should be no traps in D&D. (Let me assure you there will be many, many traps in your way in the months to come…that's D&D!) And so forth. Stop griping during play.
Even if I'm using a pre-made module, griping directed at the module's author is griping at me. Even when using a published module, the DM is truly the auteur—the author.
You're welcome to openly bring your concerns to me in the moment—via a quick correction (Table Rule #9), a one-to-three minute case (Table Rule #10), or to write yourself a note to bring those issues to me after a 24-Hour Delay (Table Rule #11).
Table Rule Thirteen: Argument Protocol IV—For my part, I will aim for a gentle, moderate tone when correcting/redirecting players, rather than press too hard upon anyone who has made any kind of mistake. I believe that if people are encouraged, and I am light about goof-ups, then people tend to have more courage to experiment in the moment be innovative and all that good stuff and I think we have more fun. You are welcome to remind me of this Table Rule if I speak in a hard tone.
Table Rule Fourteen: Refrain from reading of reviews or articles about modules which I'm planning to DM. If you know the title of the module we're currently playing, or you've heard that I'm planning to run a certain module in the future, it is poor sportsmanship to read about those modules. Even a so-called "critically panned" module can be brought to life in a uniquely fun or curious way.
And even if there are no spoilers (and there almost always are!), reading reviews tramples on the effort and joy I put into prepping the adventure. Like:"Oh, you're planning to run this module? I heard that this module sucks." Not cool. That's trampling.
Table Rule Fifteen: Gratitude for Illustrations. I do not want to hear any criticism of D&D artwork or illustrations which I show to the players during a game—unless the image is gruesome or horrifying. (And I myself have tried to refrain, and will continue to refrain, from showing such images—but you're still welcome to speak up if what I show is still too scary/unsettling for you. )
But if the illustration is merely cartoonish, clumsily drawn, ugly-ish, or 'materialistic', I don't want to hear any criticism. (At least not until afte rthe 24-Hour Delay.) Just because a piece of artwork is not a Steinerian veil-painting, drawn by Anthroposophically-Aware artists, doesn't mean it's totally worthless. Don't be such an "aesthete","Steiner church lady," and critic. Please be glad for any visual aids which are offered.
Table Rule Sixteen: Come Prepared to Play. This includes:
1) Regular players at my table must acquire a copy of the Players Handbook—Fifth Edition. (Newcomers have a few grace sessions where they can decide whether they are in or out, before they get the book.) Our club has one loaner copy. (Despite this requirement, I retain the right to change to a different ruleset someday, at my whim.)
2) You must read the following sections in the PHB before sitting at my table. (Unless you are a newcomer, here to try it out.):
1) The entire write-up, including the boring roleplaying fluff paragraphs*, of the race, background, class, and subclass of the PC which you're currently playing. (Though not required, it could be helpful to mark those pages with post-it tabs, for quick reference at the table.) *(Look at these fluff paragraphs as a meditative exercise in concentration, even if boring—you only have to read them once in your life in order to qualify for my table. And you might glean an inspiring tidbit from them.)
2) The descriptive paragraph for all the skills and feats which your PC has chosen.
3) The descriptive paragraph for any piece of equipment which your PC owns, including weapons, armor, tools, and other gear.
4) The entirety of Part II: Playing the Game—pages 171 to 198.
5) If your PC is a spellcaster, the entirety of Chapter 10: Spellcasting—pages 201 to 205.
6) The entire description of any spells or cantrips known or prepared.
If you haven't read those sections, don't come. You don't have to have memorized, or even understood, everything you read—but you must have read it. At my table, we are co-responsible for rules familiarity.3) You must have your character sheet filled out.
4) Spell descriptions (and magic item descriptions) must be fully noted: either by hand-writing the description out fully on your sheet, or cut and pasting and printing it out, or marking those pages in your PHB with labeled post-it tabs, or (at the very least) writing the page numbers on your sheet.
5) You are responsible for not being overly tired. If you had a long day, please at least grab a short nap, and/or drink some tea, and/or take a refreshing short walk before coming to play that night. You owe it your fellow participants to be wakeful and attentive. When you are at the table, willfully take hold of your energetic sheath—slap and shake yourself if necessary, rub your face and limbs, drink lots of water, or even call for a break to get fresh air.
Try hard to preëmpt yawniness, but if you do yawn, table etiquette is to cover your mouth and say some sort of "excuse me"—and even to stick out your hand and say something like: "hold up, I feel a yawn coming." My table pauses for yawns. If you are too tired, we may need to stop early, which could be a disservice to our shared plans for the evening.
Table Rule Seventeen: Smiling Helpfulness. If something is offered by me or another player—say, we drew our character or wrote up our last adventure as a novel—the normative humane response is to smile widely and say "Awesome!" or "Pretty cool! Thanks for showing me!" Because it must be awesome in some way—it's at least awesome that they made the effort.
And something which I would be most glad for is this: ultra-intentional, warm-hearted, super-supportive helpfulness and camaraderie. If I or another player are spinning our wheels, getting bogged down, flustered, or confused—offer to help them. "How may I help?"
Table Rule Eighteen: I'm free to modify these Table Rules. Even these table rules can be modified by the DM at will. However, I intend to let you know of substantive changes or additions, which you can agree to or not.
Table Rule Nineteen: Due Process. So what happens if you don't abide by my table rules? Well, I really hope we can speak as adults, best friends, and human beings. Hopefully, occasional slips can be dealt with via gentle re-directions in the moment, or by a DM-player consultation after the 24-Hour Delay.
I'd also be grateful for other players' help in reminding each other of slips in the moment, like: "Dude, you're slamming on the artwork (or making comments about other players' low rolls, etc)—that's against the Table Rules. C'mon man." My serious wish is that having each player read and sign the Table Rules may help us all get on the same page.
A more intensive option would be to call for a table business meeting dedicated to resolving the dispute or disruption.
Yet, at all stages of the process, the consequences are at my total discretion . it could range from a zany, old-skool, Gygaxian-style, in-game "punishment" of your character…to ejecting a player from my Table temporarily (until comensurate amends are made)…or permanently. If the campaign and group dynamic remains un-nourishing to me as DM, I could of course also disband the group. It's not the end of the world.
Note: our D&D Club is not identical to my Table/Campaign. There may eventually be more "tables" (DMs) in our D&D Club. If I have an issue with a player at my Table, that doesn't necessarily translate to the Club as a whole. The householder / host of the meeting space also of course has their own general parameters as householder.
Table Rule Twenty: There is only one Agreement to make. These aren't multilaterally negotiated ageements. To join my table, a player must read and agree to these Table Rules. This is The Agreement. If you don't understand these provisions, or if you have clarifying questions, do not hesitate to ask beforehand. By signing this, you agree to play by my rules, in my world. If you can't or won't agree to that in good faith, then don't sign—and find another DM.
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If I can yell out a cheer when something goes right I'd also think I'd be allowed to yell out something quite the opposite when something goes wrong. That said, you haven't mentioned what age grup you're running for, nor the social situation (a group of your friends at home, or organized play at a store, or what).
