I dig feedback. Especially questions. Feedback’s how this site became what it is. But that’s a long story for another time. And questions? Questions — smart ones — show people are thinking and learning. And because this is the internet, I lose faith in that a lot. Smart questions reassure me that some people are thinking and learning. And that makes this s$&% worth it.

I pay attention to questions. Usually, when someone asks a question, there’s a bunch of other folks with the same question. Hell, often, someone will start a big ole dogpile with a question. They’ll ask something and suddenly everyone’s like, “yeah, I’d like that answer too!” That’s great s$&%. Really gratifying.

Do you know what else is great? When I get the same question from a bunch of different people all at once. That tells me I’ve hit on something important. To my readers, to gamers in general, and probably to the whole of RPG design.

But you know what’s not so great? When people get obsessive with their questions. Every so often, someone asks a question that doesn’t get an answer right away. Maybe they’ll post it in my comment section, or ask during one of my supporter Live Chats, or ask in the super-secret Angry Discord. But, for whatever reason, I don’t answer it right away. So they ask again. And again. And again. Over every channel. Over and over and over.

I don’t like to reward that s$&%. The minute someone seems just a little too obsessive and impatient, that’s a big-a$& warning sign. “Don’t give them what they want,” the sign says. “You’ll just make them think that’s how to get an answer.” And it’s true. Moreover, it shows others that the obsessive, impatient approach works.

The point is, this article goes against my better judgment. Because there’s been some obsession over this. Don’t worry if you’re feeling called out, though. I’m probably not talking about you.

Anyway, let me tell you why there’s so many NPCs in my games…

Overusing NPCs the Angry Way

The whole Angry Table Tales thing has given everyone a look at how I run things. More of a look than I’ve ever offered before. And that’s led to certain questions. Questions like, “why are you such an a$&hole to your players,” “how do you pull so many ideas out of your a$& mid-game like that,” “you’re really an a$&hole” and “you realize most people can’t just invent entire characters and plotlines whole cloth,” and “stop being an a$&hole.”

Funnily enough, I actually have a good answer — and actual, actionable f$&%ing advice — about that s$&%. Well, about how to get better at pulling ideas out of your a$&. My advice about my a$&holry is, “don’t play at my table.” But I’m not talking about either of those topics today.

Today, I’m talking about my overuse of NPCs. A lot of you have commented on how many NPCs populate my adventures. And not just townies during between-adventure s$&%. And not just social encounter challenge things. There’s just a lot of NPCs running around in the middle of my adventures. And some of them even join the party.

Lots of you have asked me to explain. And at least two of you have become obsessed with the subject. So, to get at least two of you to shut up and leave me alone, I’m going to address this NPC thing. Specifically, I’m going to answer the following four questions:

1. Why do I use so many f$&%ing NPCs in my games that I need spreadsheets to track them all?
2. Why do I send tagalong NPCs with the PC party so often?
3. How do I do this s$&% so artfully that the players actually like it?
4. How do I keep my NPCs from turning into GM avatars?

Why Are There So Many People in the World?

If I’m being honest — and I always am, which is why so many of my relationships fail — if I’m being honest, I’ve got to admit that question about why I use so many NPCs in my games caught me totally off guard. I don’t want to call it a stupid question, exactly, but I can’t think of a way to finish this sentence. To me, using as many NPCs as often as possible is the most natural f$&%ing thing in the world.

Why?

Because I’m running roleplaying games.

A roleplaying game is one in which the players play imaginary characters in a fictional world. And a roleplaying game is a game that provides a satisfying narrative experience as well as a satisfying gameplay experience.

You know that right? I’m not blowing your mind here, am I?

Except those of you who keep forgetting the game part and whinge about collaborative storytelling blargle wargle blah blah pppppppppbbbbbbbbbbbbttttttttttttttthhhhhhhhhhhhh….

And so, it’s should be pretty obvious why I use so many NPCs. Especially party companions. And why you should too.

Right?

Okay, fine. Let me spell this s$&% out.

Interaction is Everything

Humans are social creatures. All humans. Even you. As such, we learn about ourselves and about others through interaction. And others includes fictional characters. Like the kinds in stories and roleplaying games.

Interaction helps us understand characters. Which thereby helps us connect with characters. And leads to us liking characters. Or disliking them. Or loving them. Or hating for them. And cheering for them. Or against them.

All stories are about people. At least, all the stories people give a s$&% about. The stories people remember for more than an hour after they’re done. Why? Because stories are how we pass life skills between ourselves. And human lives are 90% social. Yes, I know you’re an introvert. But you still have to get by in the social world because the world is full of people. And most of them don’t give a s$&% about those memes you’re posting yelling at others to stop being nice to you. They ain’t going to change. So you’ve got to learn to function. Trust me.

That’s why stories about people resonate. Because our survival depends on social interaction. And that’s also why we personify things. Our brains are wired to understand everything in terms of motivation, behavior, personality, choice, and action. We ascribe will and personality to everything. Even our computers and our dice. It’s totally natural. Totally human.

If you want your roleplaying game to actually pull off that satisfying narrative s$&%, it’s got to include plenty of interaction.

A World Outside the Party

Now, let’s talk about that fictional characters in an imaginary world thing. Specifically, let’s talk about that imaginary world. Because RPGs present this illusion that there really is this magical otherworld in which the game takes place. An RPG’s not just a series of gameplay challenges that pit game constructs against merciless plastic random number generators. It’s the story of a world and the people in it.

Players and GMs must fool themselves into thinking there’s a whole imaginary world swirling around the game’s events.

The problem is that the players’ perspectives are limited to their characters. They know only what their characters experience. And there really isn’t anything beyond the characters. Nothing happens in the game world unless it affects the players somehow.

That’s why you need NPCs. Well-crafted NPCs represent stories that aren’t about the PCs. NPCs are the manifestation of stories that intersect the PCs’ stories. Stories that started before the PCs came along and that will continue long after the PCs move on. Thus, NPCs are a big part of the illusion that there’s a world of stories out there and the PCs are only seeing one of them. The one they’re in.

If the PCs go into a shop and then the shopkeeper says, “well, what can I do fer ya” and then the PCs buy some s$&% and then the shopkeeper says, “thank you, come again,” that shopkeeper’s just a game construct. He popped into existence when the PCs entered the shop. He’ll cease to exist the moment the PCs leave.

But suppose the PCs go into a shop and the shopkeeper says, “what?!” and then he softens and says, “sorry, didn’t mean to snap at yah. I’m just not in a good mood today. Don’t mind me. How can I help ya?” That, right there, suggests the NPC didn’t just spring into being to sell the PCs some s$&%. Why would he pop in in a bad mood? Why would he have any mood at all? And why would he suggest that his mood today was any different from his mood yesterday? Or that he might have a different mood tomorrow?

Even if the players don’t give a crap about the NPC’s mood — even if they don’t say something like, “what’s wrong sir; can we help? We are adventurers, after all!” — even if they totally ignore that s$&%, their brains are still tricked into thinking the shopkeeper’s an actual, real human person. I’m not saying the players literally, consciously believe they’ve been magically transported to a real fantasy realm. But their dumb, emotional brains get tricked into having emotions. Maybe sympathy. Maybe annoyance. It might not be much of an emotion. But it’s something. And, if that s$&% keeps happening — if their emotional brains keep squirting emotions — they start giving a f$&% about the world as a world.

NPCs also provide different perspectives on the same story. The PCs are exceptional people. Powerful. Lucky. Rich. Amoral. They can go anywhere, do anything, and get away with anything. They’re in control. Except when the dice say otherwise.

When the PCs meet NPCs who aren’t adventurers, they get to see the lives of the non-protagonists. The lives the protagonists make better. Or worse. That makes the PCs feel special. Like they’re unique. Heroes. But it also shows the players they have an impact. For better or for worse, their actions affect others.

Lots of GMs piss and moan that their player-characters are a bunch of amoral murderhobos and they don’t know how to stop it. How to make them care. Well, one thing to consider is how many nice, normal, real-seeming, non-silly, non-wacky, non-fantastical, real human people the PCs stumble across. Because that’s got a lot to do with it. Not everything, but a lot.

Dance with Who Brung You

If you give a f$&% about running a game in which a bunch of players act as fictional characters in an imaginary world and share a satisfying narrative experience, NPCs are the second most important thing you’ve got to master. If you don’t care about that s$&% — if you’re in it for gamey dungeon crawls — that’s fine. Stop reading and move on. You can get away with a bunch of NPCs-as-dialogue-boxes.

Seriously. That really is fine. I ain’t disparaging it. I’m totally down for gamey dungeon crawl murderhobo fun. Do it.

But if you do give a f$&% about the s$&% I said in that preceding paragraph — and if you’re really smart — you probably see a giant-a$& flaw in this whole thing. At least when it comes to fantasy adventure roleplaying games. The heroes in such stories — the PCs — spend all their time wandering the wilderness and delving into deathtrap dungeons.

Opportunities for interaction during the game parts of the game are pretty thin on the ground.

That’s why companion NPCs are so awesome. And understand that here, I’m not talking about Companion NPCs as a mechanical system for handling hirelings, sidekicks, allies, pets, and s$&% like that. I’m talking about the general concept of an NPC — any NPC — that travels with the party on one or more of its adventures. Or at least a part thereof.

Take my recent story about the Dancing Halfling Dungeon. The PCs had two oarsmen rowing them through the wilderness. They — the oarsmen — were there throughout the adventure. Though they hung out at camp whenever the PCs went into particularly dangerous situations. Along with the party’s guard dog.

A companion doesn’t have to be an adventuring ally. It’s just a little, interactable bit of the world that exists beyond the PC’s adventures that the PCs can interact with. An intrusion of another story on the PCs’ tale. And given the s$&% above, it should be clear why that’s such a great thing to have.

That said, I run plenty of adventures without any NPCs at all. Adventurers wherein the party’s on its own in the wild. No halfling gypsy families or oarsmen or lumberjack encampments or wilderness guides. Just a few days of hiking and a dungeon full of hostiles to slay. But, on balance, a good half of my adventures have some sort of NPC interactable at some point. Sometimes, they’re just strangers met on the road. Sometimes they’re companions that bum around with the party for a bit. Sometimes they’re bodies to guard. Sometimes, they’re fellow adventurers to team up with.

The Problematic Toxicity of GMPCism

I have to mention this briefly. There’s this attitude among gamers that GMPCs are bad, wrong, problematic, and toxic. If you’ve never heard that term, it’s a slur. It’s used to describe an NPC ally that travels with the party and contributes to the adventure. The implication is that the GM is running a PC party member of his very own. And the implication is that it’s bad wrong.

GMPCists — haters of GMPCs — will insist they have good reasons. And they’ll be quick to point out that not all party companions count as GMPCs. And they’ll give you a list of ways the bad ones can be better. Here’s the thing: this attitude is complete horses$&%. If you hear someone use the phrase GMPC at all, ever — except for me in this article right now — just stop listening for a while. Tune them out. Think about dinosaurs or something. Just wait for the advice to end. Then, smile and nod and say, “thanks for that perspective. Hey, did you know some dinosaurs were as small as chickens? That’s pretty cool, isn’t it? I wonder if they tasted like chicken.”

Good NPCs Need Good Reasons

So that’s the why. Why my adventures are chock full of NPCs. And why I send so many NPCs bumming along with the party. And why I remind my players they can recruit or hire NPC allies whenever they want. I encourage that s$&% whenever I can.

But this ain’t as simple as flinging companions at the party and dropping camps and caravans in its path.

Except, actually, it is as simple as that. But…

Actually, there’s no but. Just fling companions at the party and drop camps and caravans in its path. Whenever you want. Or, at least, whenever you have a reason to.

All right. Maybe I should talk about good reasons.

Doing Things for Reasons

All that crap I said about how useful and important NPCs are? Especially companions? It’s all true. That’s why I said it. And that means there’s always a good reason to shove an NPC into the adventure. Or into the party.

Here’s the problem: a roleplaying game is a game that provides a satisfying story blah blah blah… you know this part. That means, even if something’s really good for the game, you can’t just do it. Otherwise, you’re just adding a game construct. A contrivance. And that’ll be really obvious.

That’s why you don’t want to just add NPCs to your game. You want to have a good reason. Or, rather, you want a good excuse. Because the reason’s always about increasing interaction and providing a sense of the world. So, you just need to justify that s$&%. And generally, you need to justify it to your players and you need to justify it to yourself.

Why Should We Bring You Along?

Players generally won’t interact with NPCs without a good, in-game, in-world reason. Sure, some players will. Some players get off on striking up conversations with anything and everything that can talk back. And those players are happy to fill their party with as many NPC pals as possible. But most players need a reason. A real reason.

Any NPC you stick in an adventure — especially a companion NPC — has got to come with a reason for the players to want them around. Here’s a non-exhaustive and non-definitive list of some possible reasons why the PCs might welcome an NPC into their fold:

1. The NPC has a useful skill or ability
2. The NPC’s goal aligns with the PCs’ goals.
3. The players feel responsible for the NPC
4. The adventure goal demands the PCs bring the NPC along
5. The players like the NPC and want to keep them around
6. The PCs and the NPC are going the same direction and there’s strength in numbers

My PCs — ex-PCs now; they didn’t survive that sahuagin thing and so I’ll never get to use that Tarot plot I wrote — my PCs brought those oarsmen along because rowboats are the best and fastest to search a river. And that’s what the adventure was about. Having trained oarsmen to do the rowing made drowning less likely and also freed the party to protect the boats from alligators and sahuagin.

Years ago, my PCs brought some sorcerer kid on their adventure because that was their mission. To bring the sorcerer kid safely to a nearby city.

Once upon a time, my PCs captured a dude they didn’t want to kill. So they had to bring him along.

And once, my PCs brought a friendly minstrel along just because they liked him. And possibly also because he had some useful knowledge.

See how this s$&% works?

Why is it Worth Statting this S$%& Up?

You and I know — now — that NPCs — especially companions — are totally worth statting up. They’re worth shoving in the game because of all that interaction and story and world crap, right? But you’ve still got to do something with the NPC. Otherwise, it’s just a contrivance and the players will eventually know it. If you don’t plan to actually do something worthwhile with the NPC, you won’t use it properly. And you won’t design it properly.

All that interaction and world crap are like gravy. It makes the game good. But it doesn’t make the game.

So, what kind of s$&% can you do with an NPC? Here’s a non-exhaustive and non-definitive list of some possible things you might do with an NPC companion:

• Provide the players with a specific asset or resource that’ll be useful on an adventure
• Add an extra element of challenge or difficulty to an adventure
• Add a conflict or dilemma to an adventure
• Tell a side story related to the main story of the adventure somehow

The oarsmen? They provided resources and assets. Rowboats and rowboating skills. But that’s not all. One oarsman was secretly one of the crime boss’ trusted lieutenants. And he had information that would help the party track down the missing goods. If they decided to pursue that side quest. In fact, he was actually the quest giver that would ask the party to dig deeper. Meanwhile, the other oarsman was a street-level smuggler. He had a story to tell. He was a down-on-his-luck criminal opportunist trying to escape his crappy life under the crime boss’ thumb.

Not only that, the oarsmen created a conflict. Because the lieutenant didn’t want the smuggler to escape the crime boss’ criminal empire. The party got wrapped up in the middle of that because they genuinely started to sympathize with the smuggler. But they needed the lieutenant.

Actually, the oarsmen were pretty loaded. The adventure was more about them than it was about finding some missing goods on a wrecked ship.

You don’t have to load down your NPCs with that much baggage. But it’s okay if you do.

With all of that s$&% said, though, there’s one situation in which it’s okay to include an NPC companion even if you — the GM — don’t have any plans to do anything with them.

• When the party seeks, recruits, or invites an NPC companion on its own initiative

If the players ask an NPC to join them on an adventure — or, better still, seek an NPC out — that’s all the reason you need. Pack his bag. That NPC’s going on an adventure.

Of course, a smart GM knows an opportunity when the players giftwrap one. So maybe come up with something to do with the party’s latest junior member.

The Lovingly-Crafted, Well-Used NPC

NPCs are a good thing. A great thing. As long as the players have a reason to drag them along and you’ve got something to do with them, you’re golden. But lots of GMs worry about doing this s$&% right. Or doing it well. And that’s mainly due to all the bulls$&% other GMs have spouted about how GMPCs are the worst things ever. Which you know to ignore now.

Generally, the more you include NPCs, the better you get at it. Sorry. This is another one of those practice things. So just throw some NPCs in your game and see how it goes.

But here’s a few pro tips to help you practice right. Especially if you’re needlessly worried about your NPCs turning into GM-insert avatars.

The Two-Note NPC

If this article gave you some déjà vu, that’s because you’ve heard some of this s$&% before. Which is another reason why I was caught totally off guard by the questions that started this whole thing. “Didn’t I already cover all this s$&%?” Turns out, I sorta did. But I sorta didn’t.

I sorta did enough, though, that my first piece of advice is go back and read some s$&% on this site that you apparently missed. Because all this s$&% hinges on your ability to humanize an NPC and to then build a simple, two-note NPC.

Now, the point of that s$&% was that there’s certain qualities fictional characters have that make them relatable. And you can build a good NPC just by smashing two such qualities together. A good NPC is just — initially — a song with two notes.

When it comes to companion NPCs, you want to hit specific notes though. Everything that joins the party must start with either a goal or motivation as its first note. Motivations work better for long-term buddies. Goals are good for short-term companions. And if a short-term companion turns into a long-term buddy, you’ve got to turn their goal into a motivation.

So, say an NPC joins the party on a tomb-plundering adventure because the NPC wants a specific gem. That’s a goal. But then, suppose the players like the NPC and want to bring him along on another adventure. You’ve got to figure out what actually motivates the NPC. Which’ll help explain why he wanted that gem in the first place. Maybe he wants to get rich. Or maybe he collects unique artifacts to prove he’s the best treasure hunter in the world. Something like that.

Once an NPC’s got a goal or a motivation, they need one other humanizing trait. And, in those articles, I provided a non-exhaustive and non-definitive list of some possible humanizing traits you could shove inside an NPC to turn it into a real boy. They included:

• Vulnerabilities
• Fears
• Pains
• Dreams
• Values
• Virtues
• Beliefs
• Flaws
• Shortcomings
• Self-Awareness
• Growth Potential
• Agency

Pick a kind of humanizing trait, come up with something specific, write it down, and you’re good to go.

Don’t Play, Portray

I’ve been thinking a lot about this s$&%. Again. How GMs play NPCs. In fact, I recently concluded a lot of modern GMs and RPG systems are getting this s$&% really wrong. In fact, I think I’ve got a whole article in me about portraying NPCs and dealing with social actions and social skills. But I ain’t sharing that today.

Today, I’m just telling you to remember that, as a GM, you ain’t a f%$&ing player. Which means, you don’t play characters. And, whatever the acronym stands for, NPCs ain’t characters. They’re game constructs. And you portray them. You describe them.

What’s that mean? Mostly, it means nothing. It’s just semantics. But sometimes, it means remembering that the game mechanics make the choices and you just describe the results. NPCs don’t decide whether to stay or run. They make morale checks. NPCs don’t decide what they believe, they resist Bluff checks. That kind of s$&%.

Personally, I track every companion’s attitude toward the party. I use a simple, vague system where every NPC’s got a Reaction Stat. It tells me how the NPC reacts to the party. Not how the NPC feels about the party. NPCs don’t have feelings. They behave. They react.

You can use a 1 to 10 scale as I do, or you can classify NPCs as Hostile, Unfriendly, Indifferent, Friendly, or Helpful as older editions of D&D did. Either way’s fine. Whenever the party interacts with the NPC — or the NPC’s directly involved in a game event — I use the score to determine the NPC’s actions. And whenever the party interacts with the NPC — or the NPC’s directly involved in a game event — I decide whether the score needs adjusting and adjust it.

I use the same score to help me set DCs when players make die rolls against NPC companions. And the die rolls determine the NPC’s responses.

What I don’t do — because I know some of you like to misread my s$&% and then claim I said things I didn’t — what I don’t do is roll to randomly determine what an NPC does. I never do that. That’s bulls$&%. GMs who do that s$&% should have their screens revoked.

Speak When Spoken To… Unless You’ve Got a Good Reason

Some GM’s NPCs never f$&%ing shut up. They’re involved in everything. They’re always cracking jokes. They’re always offering advice. They’re always inserting themselves into party decisions. And you might think that’s good because of the whole interaction thing. It isn’t.

NPC companions — in general — should neither initiate interactions nor join interactions without an invitation from a PC. They should speak when spoken to and stay silent otherwise.

There’s an exception though. An important one. Remember when I told you to have a good reason for sticking an NPC in your game? Plan to do something with them? Well, NPCs are allowed to speak up when the plan demands it. If the NPC’s there to provide information, they can volunteer it. If they’re there to provide a useful skill, they can use it. If they’re there to tell a story or create a conflict, they can do that too.

Understand, though, this ain’t blanket permission to volunteer any information or use any skill at all. Or create any conflict. Or tell any story. That’s how the GM’s voice ends up coming out of an NPC’s mouth. That’s why it’s important to define each NPC’s purpose. Specifically.

Can you improvise? Devise new purposes while the group is in the heart of an adventure? Hell yes. But they should be specific, purposeful plans. For example, I didn’t know the smuggler had a story to tell about escaping his crappy life. I came up with that mid-adventure. And I knew it would create a conflict for the party. I didn’t just decide I wanted the NPC to f$&% with the party and then blurt out whatever I came up with.

Improvising specific stories, conflicts, and purposes isn’t carte blanche to join the party as one of the players.

That said…

Don’t Let Anyone Forget the NPC Exists

Game comics and shows are loaded with jokes about forgotten pets, familiars, and companions. NPCs that get overlooked for sessions at a time. Who only pop into existence when needed. Kind of like that shopkeeper I mentioned 3500 words ago. And that’s precisely what you don’t want. And if you follow the above rule about not speaking unless spoken to, there’s a real danger it’ll happen.

First, don’t forget the NPC companion exists yourself. If you’re using tokens on a virtual tabletop or miniatures on a meatspace grid, make one specifically for the NPC. And leave it on the table with the rest of the party. And keep your NPC notes handy. Wherever you’ve got the NPC’s stats and s$&% written down or typed up, keep that visible. Or record the NPC on your GMing Game Control Sheet or whatever. Make sure you can’t overlook the NPC. And if you keep overlooking the NPC, then, guess what? You need better notes. Take notes. Write them down.

Second, whenever you set an in-game scene, mention what the NPC’s up to. If they’re there, of course. When the party makes camp, mention the NPC’s gathering firewood. Or pitching a tent. Or tending a boat. When the party’s sitting around eating, note the NPC’s chewing thoughtfully on his stew while he listens. Or smoking his pipe. Whatever.

Third, whenever the party’s sitting around talking or whenever a scene or encounter ends, remind everyone the NPC’s there too. My favorite method is to inject small, useless remarks. Asides. Which doesn’t count as interacting. They just make pointless comments about whatever’s going on. “I’m glad we survived that,” an NPC might say after a fight. Or the NPC might join the other PCs agreeing with Bob’s clever plan. “That sounds like a good idea,” the NPC might say. But only after other PCs have already voiced their agreement.

Basically, whenever an NPC’s in the background, remind the players he’s there. In the background. Because all the story and world and interaction s$&%’s wasted if everyone forgets it’s there.