So you’re a Dungeon Master? Okay, listen, I gazed into my crystal ball, and your future looks pretty grim. Let me tell you all about it. Free of charge.
More and more now, Dungeon Masters find themselves standing between Wizards of the Coast and the millions of players who enjoy the world of Dungeons & Dragons. Those players want total, absolute freedom, and their Dungeon Masters are a “necessary evil” — or at least it’s starting to feel like it.
The game’s marketing is directed towards players, not Dungeon Masters. If every D&D player buys a book, that is a lot of money, but if every Dungeon Master buys a book, the sales remain quite low. Players make up the bulk of the customer base, and that’s nothing new: it’s been that way since 1974. So, every six months, Wizards gives out “player candy” and introduces a new, overpowered subclass. The DMs have to adjust. Constantly.
These days, it’s a perpetual tug-of-war between players and Dungeon Masters — and not just with official material, mind you. KibblesTasty published a fan-made artificer class that soon became a contentious issue. DMs didn’t want it. Players really wanted it. Some players even hoped Wizards would copy it and make the stuff official, so that DMs would have to accept it.
But that’s only the beginning. Ha ha.
Dungeon Masters are also being challenged by a drastic shift in the playstyle. You see, Dungeons & Dragons is a shared story. Dungeons & Dragons is a live, freeform experience. Dungeons & Dragons doesn’t need an all-powerful, dictatorial arbiter, and perhaps it doesn’t even need a written plot with predetermined encounters.
No written adventure, no fixed story, just peers sitting together and riffing off of each other’s in-character improvisations. No spotlight hogs, either, as everyone gets the same amount of time to talk.
Dungeon Masters have always been the worst kind of spotlight hogs, haven’t they? Wink wink.
John only wants to tell the rest of the party about his Aasimar rhapsodist’s dark musings, and Jane only wants to be allowed to play her super optimized Tortle dragon tamer pirate ranger. You happen to be their DM. What do you do?
Some want to quit.
Some DMs really don’t like this ‘improv’ reframing of the game that is obviously being brought about by Critical Role.
So, let’s recap:
Storygamers don’t want a classic Dungeon Master who occupies way too much narrative real estate.
Powergamers don’t want somebody who can decide if this feat or that subclass is legal at the table.
DMs are being questioned on both sides of the role-playing spectrum.
On the far left, they think a DM is just like any other player, no more, no less; they all tell their part of that shared story, and the DM’s own contribution isn’t bigger or more relevant than any other part.
On the far right, tactical wargamers don’t really need DMs anymore, except maybe to roll for the monsters; but if they only need the DM to roll some dice, isn’t that the waste of a player? Let the monsters run themselves with an attack deck, Gloomhaven style, and get an extra player character in your party.
Here we should take a timeout from discussing the Fall of the Dungeon Master, and look at the possibility, however remote or preposterous, of getting rid of other fundamental D&D components.
There were folks who criticized the fact that most treasures are “questionably sourced” in Pathfinder and, by extension, D&D; I’ve broached that subject in a previous post (“Bad” Treasure, April 2021).
Let’s recap again:
No predetermined story or plot, no omnipotent referee, no dungeons, no monsters, no treasure, and no violence. The player characters sit in a tavern, drinking, talking, laughing.
It’s a creative drama workshop.
I get it, though. When I was 17 and 18, I too questioned everything. “Fuck The World” was my motto. You know: the golden age of punk. Society sucked, and I wanted none of it.
Today, it’s the same phenomenon, expressed differently. Why should we pay rent? Why should we have student debt?
What are monsters even for?
What are spells even for? What is armor even for? What is experience even for?
If we go the nihilist road, we’ll end up playing nothing and caring for nothing and doing nothing, like in Withnail & I.
Everything D&D (apart from movies and board games) requires a Dungeon Master. It is an unpredictable situation that might make business-savvy investors nervous, and they have addressed it before — you can bet your entire game collection on it. “Do we have a contingency plan in case we experience a catastrophic drop in the number of individuals who are willing to enable this product without compensation?”
Is Robert going to feel confident enough to take on the duties of Dungeon Master? Is Myriam going to have enough time to DM on top of studying for her master’s degree? Dan had a stroke last year; is he going to resume his campaign? Jenna did not do any DMing since before the pandemic — is she going to come back to it eventually? Case-by-case uncertainty.
They’ve already had a few meetings about this. Trust me.
Gary and Dave envisioned the Dungeon Master as a sort of deity, sometimes malevolent, sometimes benevolent, and sometimes completely indifferent. Many things have changed since those early days. Increasingly now, the DM is but a proxy for the mechanics and rules; they are more or less expected to run what Perkins, Winter or Crawford have written, as is.
But DMs do not work for Hasbro and Wizards of the Coast. They never have.
With the advent of One D&D, the Dungeon Master is about to be reduced to a simple role of software manager. Indeed, they won’t need a DM to describe the guttering candles and spooky cobwebs: it’s all been rendered in 3D; and they won’t even need a DM to track initiative: it’s all been programmed right into that VTT.
The same isn’t happening in Call of Cthulhu, for instance, because that game still needs its DMs, a.k.a. Keepers. There are still innumerable locations to flesh out and describe, from creepy mansions in Poughkeepsie, NY, to abandoned mausoleums in Chepachet, RI, to haunted lighthouses off Pollock Rip, MA. Nobody in Call of Cthulhu is asking What Are Monsters Even For? (they’d lose 2d10 SAN if they did.) There’s a lot of storytelling left to be done in this genre.
And what about little indie gems such as Nibiru or Moriah? For sure, they need a GM to work their awesome, heartbreaking magic.
I chose the title “The Fall of the Dungeon Master” and not “The Fall of the Game Master” for a reason.
If and when D&D doesn’t want you — or need you — anymore, don’t worry, there is a plethora of exciting worlds out there that await and value your energy and dedication to run amazing adventures.