D&D General Adventurers a distasteful necessity

TheSword

Warhammer Fantasy Imperial Plenipotentiary
One of the things I like about the gritty, grimdark world of the Witcher is how the local people fear and dislike Witchers. It keeps them on the road, keeps them moving and provides a reason for them to stay adventurers instead of settling down with the fortune they acquired in that trolls horde. It’s always seemed strange to me that adventurers who saved the village wouldn’t capitalize on this with free accommodation in the local inn. Discounts at local traders. Free spell casting at the temple etc.

I spent a while thinking about how to make the world a little grittier to make this not the case. Maybe a class that locals might fear but still need. Or an organization that the party could belong to that would bring this out. But then I realized that ALL adventuring parties by their very nature could already fall into the same social niche that a Witcher does. If you look at it from the perspective of an ordinary villager—someone who just wants their crops to grow and their children to stay alive—adventurers can be just as unsettling as the monsters they fight.

They bring trouble with them: Monsters, curses, bandits, and dark forces often follow adventurers. A village might think: “If these people show up, something terrible must be nearby. ”Even if the adventurers solve the problem, the collateral damage can be enormous.

They’re touched by the unnatural: Adventurers handle cursed relics, ancient magic, forbidden knowledge, and strange creatures. To common folk, that makes them… not quite normal. Someone who casually carries a demon-slaying sword or chats with spirits is inherently suspicious.

Their motives are unclear: Adventurers often work for coin, not charity. That makes them look mercenary, unpredictable, and potentially dangerous. A farmer might wonder: “If they can kill a troll for gold, what stops them from killing me for what I have?”

They’re too comfortable with violence: Adventurers are used to killing—monsters, bandits, sometimes even people. That level of desensitization can be terrifying to civilians. A group that laughs over ale about “that time the ogre exploded” is not relatable to a baker or shepherd.

They don’t fit into society: Adventurers are rootless, transient, and often strange in dress, speech, or species. They don’t follow local customs or laws very strictly. They’re outsiders by definition, and outsiders are easy to fear.

They upset the balance: A village might fear that adventurers will anger the local lord or attract rival factions. Even if the adventurers mean well, their presence destabilizes the fragile equilibrium of rural life.

They remind people of the world’s horrors: Most commoners try to ignore the dark things lurking in the world. Adventurers are walking proof that those horrors are real. People often fear the messenger as much as the message.

What would this mean? In small isolated communities folks would likely encourage adventurers to move on. Maybe by providing clues to other adventuring activities - ideally a ways off. They might withhold hospitality. Inflate prices or claim they are out of stock to get them to move on. Similar could happen in larger settlements, but with added complications. Adventurers would garner attention as soon as they arrive. Local law enforcement and authority figures would take note of them and perhaps have them watched carefully. Ultimately the resources of the settlement could be marshaled to ensure their threat is neutralized.

None of this stops the adventurers forming strong bonds of influence and loyalty with key NPCs. But the every day Joes would want them at arms length. They remain outsiders.

It isn’t fair, but it is plausible. What do you think? do you prefer your adventuring parties to be local celebrities or like the above suggests the equivalent of a Witcher?
 
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I think there are two (or maybe more) types of adventurers in the context of this question.
The first type are your classic adventurer trope: rough, hard-bitten mercenary types who don’t fit in with normal village society, and are challenging or even dangerous to have around. They might not be mercenaries just for money, magic and power; they could be “mercenaries” who get “paid” by achieving a cause, such as destroying ancient evil, but they are tough to have around regardless.
The second type may not, at least initially, see themselves as adventurers at all. They are simply people who fall into that life: perhaps their home village is attacked by something wicked, or a friend is killed/taken. One thing leads to another and, without realising it, their life has changed and they no longer feel able to go back to their “old life”, regardless of whether that old life will accept them or not.
 

There are two problems scenario in game that I've seen play out.

Protecting a World that Hates and Fears Them: In such a scenario where the locals find adventurer's a threat, players tend to respond in kind. That is, a merchant who overcharges becomes the target for the group's thief. The sheriff who sends guards to watch them might those guards beat up in an alley. A cruel world makes men cruel. Its one of the hardest issues I had with Ravenloft. How do you balance a game where the characters are supposed to be heroes with a world who hates and fears them? It only works if you are running a game where the PCs have either an unflappable sense of morality (willing to do what's right no matter what the cost) or eventually decide to use the infamy they have earned (You think I'm a problem, I'll SHOW you a problem!)

Pariahs and Outsiders. Until They're Not: The "wandering adventurer with no roots" model works well at low levels. But famously, D&D has asked for PCs to settle down somewhere eventually and has mechanics to support that. AD&D assumed name-level PCs gained followers and strongholds. 3e had the leadership feat. 5e now has Bastions. Many 5e (2014) backgrounds assumed some manner of support from certain groups (folk hero and locals, acolyte and churches, soldiers and former army buddies). Even the notion of groups of classed characters (wizard orders, ranger lodges, bard colleges) assumes enough mutual stability that PCs could find shelter amongst their groups. (Nobody would be stupid enough to offend an adventurer who can call on a whole group of powerful wizards to help them.)

All that to say you would have to really start reworking D&D society to make this work and make sure your players are fine with playing pariahs from society.
 

One of the things I like about the gritty, grimdark world of the Witcher is how the local people fear and dislike Witchers. It keeps them on the road, keeps them moving and provides a reason for them to stay adventurers instead of settling down with the fortune they acquired in that trolls horde. It’s always seemed strange to me that adventurers who saved the village wouldn’t capitalize on this with free accommodation in the local inn. Discounts at local traders. Free spell casting at the temple etc.

I spent a while thinking about how to make the world a little grittier to make this not the case. Maybe a class that locals might fear but still need. Or an organization that the party could belong to that would bring this out. But then I realized that ALL adventuring parties by their very nature could already fall into the same social niche that a Witcher does. If you look at it from the perspective of an ordinary villager—someone who just wants their crops to grow and their children to stay alive—adventurers can be just as unsettling as the monsters they fight.

They bring trouble with them: Monsters, curses, bandits, and dark forces often followadventurers. A village might think: “If these people show up, something terrible must be nearby.”Even if the adventurers solve the problem, the collateral damage can be enormous.

They’re touched by the unnatural: Adventurers handle cursed relics, ancient magic, forbidden knowledge, and strange creatures. To common folk, that makes them… not quite normal. Someone who casually carries a demon-slaying sword or chats with spirits is inherently suspicious.

Their motives are unclear: Adventurers often work for coin, not charity. That makes them look mercenary, unpredictable, and potentially dangerous. A farmer might wonder: “If they can kill a troll for gold, what stops them from killing me for what I have?”

They’re too comfortable with violence: Adventurers are used to killing—monsters, bandits, sometimes even people. That level of desensitization can be terrifying to civilians. A group that laughs over ale about “that time the ogre exploded” is not relatable to a baker or shepherd.

They don’t fit into society: Adventurers are rootless, transient, and often strange in dress, speech, or species. They don’t follow local customs or laws very strictly. They’re outsiders by definition, and outsiders are easy to fear.

They upset the balance: A village might fear that adventurers will anger the local lord or attract rival factions. Even if the adventurers mean well, their presence destabilizes the fragile equilibrium of rural life.

They remind people of the world’s horrors: Most commoners try to ignore the dark things lurking in the world. Adventurers are walking proof that those horrors are real. People often fear the messenger as much as the message.

What would this mean? In small isolated communities folks would likely encourage adventurers to move on. Maybe by providing clues to other adventuring activities - ideally a ways off. They might withhold hospitality. Inflate prices or claim they are out of stock to get them to move on. Similar could happen in larger settlements. At the same time adventurers would garner attention as soon as they arrive. Local law enforcement and authority figures would take note of them and perhaps have them watched carefully. Ultimately the resources of the settlement could be marshaled to ensure their threat is neutralized.

None of this stops the adventurers forming strong bonds of influence and loyalty with key NPCs. But the every day Joes would want them at arms length. They remain outsiders.

It isn’t fair, but it is plausible. What do you think? do you prefer your adventuring parties to be local celebrities or like the above suggests the equivalent of a Witcher?
I think it is a reasonable and interesting way for the world to operate, but one thing I have gleaned over 40 years in this hobby is that players can't abide rude NPCs. It almost always turns into a mess. Generally I think it is because players know the commoners are not a threat and so they can bully them -- but this is really a function of a larger problem: most players do not play their character as if they are a real person that lives in the world. Real people don't want to spend their lived covered in mud and blood. If the townsfolk give them the cold shoulder, real people will just move on. Many D&D players would raze the village and steal the cattle because the innkeeper asked them to leave.

One solution I have found is to flip the script: adventurers are celebrities and people just won't stop asking for help. Real World of Warcraft level side quests: Please collect my kittens, they all ran away when the Displacer Beast came! Or whatever. Some players love being fawned over, while others just want to be left alone. But in either case, they rarely go murderhobo on the town that adores them.
 
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My groups have always preferred the local celebrity perspective. I actually did try a game decades ago now which had a more episodic feel with the heroes always leaving town in a kind of Bill Bixby-Incredible Hulk “gotta move on because I’ll just bring pain to everyone” kind of way (cue the lonely man music), and maybe I was just a clod with the whole approach, but I just found that it kind of fell flat. My players wanted to be loved, or at least appreciated for having saved the town.

So I guess my thing is how would you make that work for a party that wants at least vocal appreciation but not necessarily a greater monetary reward - No “I expect a five finger discount at the general store next time I’m in town, old timer!!” type stuff. I’ve found generally adventurers don’t really want to retire. They want that next adventure and well, good ol’ Phandalin is just a little too boring these days now that the Black Spider is gone. So they have to move on to bigger and better things.

I know that’s not really gritty but it’s just been the way my groups have leaned - though sometimes we were ran out of town because whenever I played, I’d end up being a total chaos goblin who was only just a bit better than whatever ailed the town but let’s not dwell on that!
 

One of the things I like about the gritty, grimdark world of the Witcher is how the local people fear and dislike Witchers. It keeps them on the road, keeps them moving and provides a reason for them to stay adventurers instead of settling down with the fortune they acquired in that trolls horde. It’s always seemed strange to me that adventurers who saved the village wouldn’t capitalize on this with free accommodation in the local inn. Discounts at local traders. Free spell casting at the temple etc.

I spent a while thinking about how to make the world a little grittier to make this not the case. Maybe a class that locals might fear but still need. Or an organization that the party could belong to that would bring this out. But then I realized that ALL adventuring parties by their very nature could already fall into the same social niche that a Witcher does. If you look at it from the perspective of an ordinary villager—someone who just wants their crops to grow and their children to stay alive—adventurers can be just as unsettling as the monsters they fight.

They bring trouble with them: Monsters, curses, bandits, and dark forces often followadventurers. A village might think: “If these people show up, something terrible must be nearby.”Even if the adventurers solve the problem, the collateral damage can be enormous.

They’re touched by the unnatural: Adventurers handle cursed relics, ancient magic, forbidden knowledge, and strange creatures. To common folk, that makes them… not quite normal. Someone who casually carries a demon-slaying sword or chats with spirits is inherently suspicious.

Their motives are unclear: Adventurers often work for coin, not charity. That makes them look mercenary, unpredictable, and potentially dangerous. A farmer might wonder: “If they can kill a troll for gold, what stops them from killing me for what I have?”

They’re too comfortable with violence: Adventurers are used to killing—monsters, bandits, sometimes even people. That level of desensitization can be terrifying to civilians. A group that laughs over ale about “that time the ogre exploded” is not relatable to a baker or shepherd.

They don’t fit into society: Adventurers are rootless, transient, and often strange in dress, speech, or species. They don’t follow local customs or laws very strictly. They’re outsiders by definition, and outsiders are easy to fear.

They upset the balance: A village might fear that adventurers will anger the local lord or attract rival factions. Even if the adventurers mean well, their presence destabilizes the fragile equilibrium of rural life.

They remind people of the world’s horrors: Most commoners try to ignore the dark things lurking in the world. Adventurers are walking proof that those horrors are real. People often fear the messenger as much as the message.

What would this mean? In small isolated communities folks would likely encourage adventurers to move on. Maybe by providing clues to other adventuring activities - ideally a ways off. They might withhold hospitality. Inflate prices or claim they are out of stock to get them to move on. Similar could happen in larger settlements. At the same time adventurers would garner attention as soon as they arrive. Local law enforcement and authority figures would take note of them and perhaps have them watched carefully. Ultimately the resources of the settlement could be marshaled to ensure their threat is neutralized.

None of this stops the adventurers forming strong bonds of influence and loyalty with key NPCs. But the every day Joes would want them at arms length. They remain outsiders.

It isn’t fair, but it is plausible. What do you think? do you prefer your adventuring parties to be local celebrities or like the above suggests the equivalent of a Witcher?
Big fan of this take. This also helps give an explanation to the “Mos Eisely Cantina effect.” No one wants to be an adventurer; it’s dangerous, thankless, and drives people away. But if the common folk already distrust you anyway because you’re a drow, or an orc, or a Tabaxi, or some other type of “freak,” you might not really have better options.
 

I feel adventurers in D&D are a lot like the Magnificent Seven in film.

They're not trusted because they're not generally tied down to the community enough for others to vouch for them. They don't have a steady employment - say, being a hired gun for a ranch. They tend to be tougher than the average person on the street, so there's always that inherent danger - even in the real world, there can be times and situations where seeing another human being crossing your path sets you on edge.

But... they're a nessacery evil in a world where you might live on the frontier, and it takes weeks to inform the kingdom that you're beset by bandits or have a drought, and even if that information gets out, who knows if someone will prioritize your need?

Sometimes, it's better to hire the strangers passing through with weapons and armor and presumed experience... and maybe, just maybe they will choose to settle down and protect your little town.
 

Big fan of this take. This also helps give an explanation to the “Mos Eisely Cantina effect.” No one wants to be an adventurer; it’s dangerous, thankless, and drives people away. But if the common folk already distrust you anyway because you’re a drow, or an orc, or a Tabaxi, or some other type of “freak,” you might not really have better options.
Exactly. Everyone needs to eat, and doesn't have a lord to provide it, so it's often a choice of choosing to be an adventurer or choosing banditry.

"I didn't choose the adventuring life. .... it chose me."
 

What do you think? do you prefer your adventuring parties to be local celebrities or like the above suggests the equivalent of a Witcher?
I think an adventuring party is going to be somewhere in the middle. The townsfolk are going to have a love/hate relationship with any adventuring party that happens to drop by briefly. You have already cited a good number of reasons for why the townsfolk might not like adventurers, and those reasons probably will outnumber the reasons why they sometimes will like adventurers.

One possible reason for the townsfolk to like adventurers is that the latter can handle potential threats that the former might not be up to handling. The townsfolk might not have the manpower, magic or resources to handle cultists or a something as powerful as a dragon. So, seeking some kind of outside help is a must, even if that help turns out to be a rag-tag bag of slightly dysfunctional adventurers (thinks of Vox Machina).

And even if the townsfolk don't like adventurers and aren't keen on bringing them to handle a problem, you could still take a 'two birds with one stone' approach where the adventurers and the problem take each other out. :p
 


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