Every Dungeons & Dragons setting is built to be fun. But that doesn’t mean every NPC in that world has to be happy, helpful, or generally pleasant to be around. They don’t need to be an antagonist either. They’re just… annoying.
Whether intentional or not, these common side character archetypes tend to permeate every campaign in one way or the other. Maybe they’re meant as a narrative foil and end up as an irritant, maybe they were meant to guide the party back toward the path by being abrasive. Regardless of why, we all hate these NPCs.
I have long said that I am a hater in general, so you might not find these characters as bad as I do. In that case: great! That just means you are better at enjoying things than I am, and can have more fun in your D&D games.
The Pompous Noble
Most adventures take place in decrepit ruins or damp caves. But in between all of these quests, the party needs to go somewhere to buy new gear, fix equipment, and so on. So they head into town. While most folks are nice, there’s one guy who just rubs them the wrong way. Maybe they’re the mayor’s son, or a prince, or next in line to whatever a Duke is.
At best, they’re well-intentioned, but their lack of life experience makes them overconfident, so they inject themselves into the party’s plans without being helpful. At worst, they’re arrogant, actively working against the party because it doesn’t shine enough light on them. Either way, they really invoke the desire to eat the rich.
The Bothersome Merchant
Much to every DM’s dismay, players love shopping. It’s unavoidable. But most players just want to buy the specific item they’re looking for and get out. They might ask to look around if they want to see what rare items they have.
The DM, of course, gives these merchants life, trying to ensure everyone stays engaged and entertained. Merchants now want to chat, push a sale, or generally engage in extra roleplay, wasting time on something as small as buying potions.
In my own game, I’d give my housecarl a list of items I want and the gold to buy them, saving myself from having to talk to yet another storekeeper.
The Sympathy Child
A good D&D game needs vibes. The setting and general mood need to match the intended tone of the moment so that players feel drawn to what’s happening. And you can’t have adventure without stakes, so many quests involve bad things happening for the party to fix.
And what’s the easiest way to make something seem extra sad? Have a child involved. When a village is raided by bandits, that’s one thing; when little Timmy is a victim, it’s worse. The problem is that this instantly makes it overdramatic, feeling more designed to pull at heartstrings and not to set a realistic setting. It’s like those “feed starving children” commercials on TV that show a teary-eyed toddler to get you to donate a dollar.
The Exposition Machine
Portraying the greater lore of a world can be difficult in a game as open as D&D. One common way to do that is by having the information given to the party by an NPC. The problem, however, is that this ends up being the only purpose for the character, demoting them to an exposition machine.
Sure, they’re real people in-game, but when all they do is exist to spout more lore than asked for, they end up feeling like those speakers you see in museums, and they’re about as easy to listen to.
The Sending Stone Tip Line
Sometimes (okay, a lot of the time), the party might miss the clues the DM left for them to find or figure out. Having glossed over the subtle guidance, the frustrated DM will often look to other methods of conveying information, such as an NPC.
This NPC might prompt the party by messaging them through a spell or a Sending Stone. Or perhaps the DM will directly suggest they ask the NPC for help. Except this devolved the character into a high fantasy version of Clippy (a reference I grow increasingly afraid is too old for people). No one likes unsolicited advice, in-game or not.
The Rival
Ah yes, a classic. The idea of a rival character (or even a rival party) is a popular one. It gives the DM a powerful narrative tool and a recurring character to weave into the story. And for more competitively minded players, it can act as a motivating force.
And that’s why I don’t like them. The freedom of D&D is what makes it so good. Doing things because it’s an interest of your character or a part of their life is fulfilling. When you introduce a rival force to that, it becomes a rush of doing things before they do, sullying the satisfaction of doing it for yourself.
The Escort Quest
Fortunately, an experienced DM will know better than to leave an NPC in the party’s care while traveling. What narrative potential there might be is quickly smothered by the inevitable hijinks of rambunctious tablemates.
And that’s why doing escort quests for an NPC is the worst. Instead of traveling at your own pace, being distracted by caves, or doing what you want, you need to put all that aside to focus on getting the NPC where they need to be. And you KNOW they’re going to remind you about it more than once.
The Guilt Tripper
This one is like the sympathy child, but more direct. In an effort to coax the party into following the path laid out by the DM, an NPC of importance will push them into it. And since most D&D plots center around stopping something bad from happening, this is frequently done through guilt.
The whole “please help us, or people will die” shtick may make sense in the lore of the world. But as a game, it’s a terribly negative way to remove player agency. This makes the players either feel guilty or feel like jerks for resisting the plea.
The Party Pooper
On sort of the opposite end of the spectrum from the guilt tripper, the party pooper exists just to tell you no. Players can be tough to manage sometimes, as all DMs know. But reigning them in when they get a bit too unwieldy can be a challenge. One way to do that is to have an NPC literally tell them not to.
Are they sneaking somewhere the DM didn’t want them to go? Surprise surprise, there happens to be double the number of guard patrols in the area.
This is made extra annoying when the NPC bypasses the usual perception or knowledge mechanics, and they automatically become aware of the party’s transgressions.
The DMPC
The most infamous entry on the list, the DMPC, short for Dungeon Master Player Character, is when the DM wants to enact the role of a player character while still running the game. This is usually in the form of an NPC adventurer added to the party through “fate.”
Some see it as a way to provide direct guidance to the players, while most folks consider it an unfair level of involvement. How can the party react earnestly, or feel like they’ve earned their success, when an NPC who knows what’s going on behind the scenes (even if they pretend not to) is there the entire time?
- Original Release Date
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1974
- Player Count
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2+
- Age Recommendation
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12+ (though younger can play and enjoy)
- Length per Game
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From 60 minutes to hours on end.
- Franchise Name
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Dungeons & Dragons
- Publishing Co
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Wizards of the Coast