This musing on the idea of the “guilt-free TPK” was inspired by an exchange with Judd Karlman and Eric Nieudan on Mastodon. Judd’s text on the subject is on his blog, Githyanki Diaspora, here.
TPKs (“total party kills”) get a bad rep. A classic horror story is that of a spiteful or vengeful Referee who engineers a no-win situation or simply dumps a near-guaranteed party killer for their players. Such experiences, or the impression that such motivations were in play, understandably leave a bad taste in the mouth of players, and just as understandable make them cry foul at the very thought of “being TPK’d”. The obliteration of their lovingly crafted characters was not an emergent occurrence, but something deliberately inflicted upon them by an abusive Referee.
These experiences make it easy to think of the TPK as a tool, a gamemastering weapon that can (but probably shouldn’t) be deployed to… Teach those pesky players a lesson, maybe? Assert control? In any case, blech.
I firmly believe that TPKs have their place in roleplaying games, and that place is not as a tool, but as an outcome. I have had heart-wrenching, nail-biting sessions that ended in glorious last stands made all the more heroic because it was not ordained or planned and it was the emergent result of player and Referee decisions combined with dice. The chain of events that caused the situation was clear to all, and the Referee could think back on it without remorse. After all, there was nothing to be remorseful or guilt-ridden about. The game, as they say, worked as intended.
But for the game to work this, the Referee must also play a certain way. Play the world authentically. Be excited about your players and their characters. Telegraph danger. Make clear that you too are a participant at the table, and not a decider of results. Frame exciting adventure and action, invite player agency. Disclaim responsibility for where exactly everything will go. Wing it, don’t rig it. A rigged game cheapens the players’ successes and turns their failures fatalistic.
Trust is required, as it is in all gaming. But if the players trust that the Referee is playing the world and the adventure authentically and fairly, and the Referee trust his players’ judgment and their emotional investments, the web of decisions and randomness that coalesced into the TPK will be all the more clear to everyone. Because, as mentioned, a TPK should not be something decided, but something emerging. It should loom as a possible, but not probable, outcome of actions affecting other actions. When it is clear the party’s defeat at the claws of the hungry dragon was the result of collective engagement in play, the finger-pointing can subside, and all that’s to blame is the story that emerged from the alchemy of play.
“But,” said the erstwhile player of the 8th-level fighter turned dragon food, “our characters are dead! The campaign is over!”
Such an assertion is understandable, but ultimately myopic. A campaign, and especially one built on OSR principles, exists beyond the immediacy of the PCs. Surely there are stones unturned, corners unexplored, and many possibilities for adventure, play, and story. That’s how Game of Thrones stayed on the air for many seasons despite regularly trimming its cast of characters the hard way. That’s how the blood feuds and heroic vengeance stories of the Icelandic Sagas are launched. That’s how history itself labors on, despite the Ides of March, sacks of Troy and battles at Agincourt. Let defeat create possibilities.
With a well-established and played-in campaign world, there’s sure to be someone ready to pick up the torch – perhaps even literally, to go delve and recover the bodies of a certain group of fabled freebooters (and to snatch their magical swag, of course). Runaway hirelings, player character heirs, loved ones, apprentices, even just wannabe heroes enamored with the now-deceased heroes’ story all make great fresh start characters. Or start new characters in a corner of the world you’ve all been itching to explore afresh, far from the recent tragedy. Player characters may not always survive, but the game can. After all, wouldn’t we be terrible adventurers if we let some pesky trifle like being killed stop us?
Augury Ignored 