D&D General Adventurers a distasteful necessity

[Chaltab]

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.

Bandits aren't people?

 

[Corinnguard]

Bandits aren't people?

They are when they are bounty-ful. Put a gp value over their heads and law-abiding bounty hunters notice.

 

[TheSword]

Bandits aren't people?

I meant it as common people, not in a derogatory way. Could have been clearer.

 

[not-so-newguy]

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?

I have been wrestling with this idea myself for an upcoming sandbox game that I’m developing, so your post is appreciated. The game is Lankhmar using DCC rules. My definition of adventurer is somewhat different than yours because it’s specific to a city-based game.

Anyway, here’s what I have so far.


Introduction To Players
You are an adventurer because you feel a strong call in your bones to adventure. The boredom of a calm life doesn't appeal to you – you are driven to leave behind the safety of your family and home seeking power, fame, and approval of the gods.

The garnering and spending of coin is a direct expression of what you are seeking. The treasure you gain from adventuring and, just as important, the spending of that money to further your reputation will result in experience points.

There is one way to spend your cash to gain experience points. You do it by spending coin on lavish festivities to chisel your stories into legend and gaining the approval of the gods. Money spent otherwise may be a practical choice but will not gain you any XP. Adventuring is a bold profession, not a practical one. Throwing your cash away in bacchanal festivities allows you to tamp down the trauma and horror of adventuring. Don’t worry, the trauma and horror will all come roaring back to you in your 40s if you manage to live that long.

Regardless of what drives you, you are driven. You choose where to go and what to do. There will be a handful of obvious choices, but you don't by any means need to take them. The adventure is in your hands.


Definition of Adventurer
Being an Adventurer means living a lifestyle outside of societal norms. Some may have started life as a normie, with a normie’s profession or skill such as farmer or blacksmith, but for whatever reason they have abandoned these occupations for the lure of fame and fortune. Others may have chosen the life of an Adventurer from the start, knowing early on that their life would be boldly lived, albeit a potentially short one.

The existence of the Adventurer profession has its roots in Lankhmar’s reputation as the center for world trade. Many stories have been shared of the poor merchant who made a fortune by selling products unique to their culture within the walls of the City-State. Most of these stories are false but the concept of the “self-made individual” was conceived.

In much the same way as that reputed poor merchant, an Adventurer often arrives in Lankhmar from humble beginnings, hoping to sell his unique set of skills to make a killing (pun intended). Unlike that poor merchant who would wisely save and reinvest their money, Adventurers prefer to live life fast and hard. This gives them a dangerous reputation that makes them a compelling subject for bards but maybe not someone that you would want as your next-door neighbor.

The closest modern analogy for Adventurers and Adventuring Bands would be an aspiring rock band from the 70s-90s. The fantasy novel “Kings of the Wyld” is a good point of reference.