Sometimes, you want to hit your players with a problem that can be solved only with action of the most violent kind. In D&D, a monster that presents a kill-or-be-killed situation; in a superhero game, a violent threat that has to be stopped before innocents are harmed.

But it’s never a good idea to do the same thing all the time, and it can be equally entertaining to occasionally hit the players with a threat that can’t be overcome by such obvious means.

Most GMs use more intelligent and definitively evil creatures for the purpose, and once again, great fun can be had that way. There is something cathartic about roleplaying an irredeemably evil enemy every now and then.

But, that too can run thin and become predictable if overused. So, from time to time (if not more frequently), GMs will tend to drop in morally ambiguous characters as enemies.

Between these options, any half-decent GM can weave a campaign full of adventures and encounters. What more do you need?

The problem with Good enemies

Variety is the spice of life. The more alternatives you have to inspire you and complicate the lives of the PCs, the better. And there is little that complicates those lives more than a good opponent.

Unfortunately, as most GMs will know if they have followed this line of thought on their own and attempted it, Good characters as enemies often fall flat. The PCs invite them round for a chat (or drop in to visit) and patiently explain the flaw in their thinking, draw up articles of alliance, sing a couple of choruses of Kum-bay-ah, and everyone goes home.

The obvious ways around this is to make the good-oriented characters so obsessed with their path that they will not be deterred, or so long-lived or super-intelligent that the enemy can claim that the PCs are too limited to see the big picture.

It doesn’t work.

If the enemies are so obsessed that they have accepted the maxim “the end justifies the means”, sooner or later they will cross the line and cease being Good. If the GM tries the “can’t see the big picture” solution, it smells of railroading the plot to place the PCs in a quandary, and that never ends well.

But now, I think I have a solution. The constraints involved mean that it can’t be used frequently, but as the occasional really-curly problem to throw at the PCs, it should function superbly. I’m putting good characters back on the enemies list for us all.

Five Principles

To make good characters work as enemies, four principles have to be adhered to with ironclad logic and impeccable assumption foundations.

1. A Noble Cause
2. An Imperative Demand
3. A Conflict
4. Fastidious Limitations
5. The PCs have to be right, too

A Noble Cause

The Good characters must be attempting to do something that is morally defensible from their point of view and, while they may be free to admit that other perspectives might also have validity, there must be nothing inherently incorrect about their position.

This is an essential because it prevents either side from talking the other side around. It needs to be a question of one side valuing something more than the other, and being willing to sacrifice something else to achieve that cause – with the PCs valuing the something else more highly. The conflict between the PCs and the Enemy has to be a manifestation of two ethical principles in conflict.

What’s more, the Enemy needs to believe passionately in their cause, and feel righteous about their support for it.

An Imperative Demand

The cause must be urgent, imperative even. Any sort of delay while a “more perfect” or “more tolerable” solution is devised must be intolerable, even discussion in place of action must be unacceptable.

If these constraints are not in place, the Enemy can be persuaded to seek “another way” as a means of resolving the conflict.

A Conflict

The Cause – whatever it is – must conflict with something the PCs want, take for granted, and/or believe in.

This makes them enemies at worst, collaterally impacted at best. It ensures that the PCs have “skin in the game”, and can’t accept the notion of putting the problem in the “too hard” basket.

Fastidious Limitations

It’s tempting to try and exploit the notion of obsession, and “the ends justify the means”. The problem is that this logic is too easily derailed, or will inevitably lead (as noted earlier) to the Enemy crossing a moral boundary once too often, or once too far.

No, the Enemy has to be a Good Guy and act like one. He has to scrupulously follow the tenets of his alignment, and better yet, to have an inflexible and iron-clad code of honor that constrains his actions.

This ties the hands of the PCs as much as it does the enemy. This will be a very polite and civil disagreement, which may cause violent conflict between them – but, after each such conflict, the victor will bind the wounds of the vanquished and express remorse for the lengths that the “misguided” PCs have forced him to. If they stoop too low in their opposition, they should be the ones facing alignment violation penalties.

It also permits the Enemy to sometimes act as a Frenemy, something that I discussed in the course of the recent two-part article, Ally, Enemy, Resource, and Opportunist: The four major NPC Roles (Part 1, Part 2) – and yes, this article was, in part, the inspiration behind that one.

Another element of this restriction is that the Enemy must recognize that his actions will be mispercieved by “the shortsighted”, even by good people, and be willing to oppose them if necessary, without stooping to anything morally unsavory.

Both sides must be right

The PCs have to be just as morally, ethically, and logically correct in opposing what the enemy is trying to do – from their point of view.

This recipe produces an honest disagreement between two groups more alike than they are different, one that justifies and demands a limited degree of violence and mayhem between them of a particularly genteel variety – one with polite warnings, care to minimize the harm to non-combatants and bystanders, binding of defeated enemy’s wounds, and a certain level of mutual respect and regret.

An example

In The Anatomy Of Evil: What Makes a Good Villain?, I told readers (briefly) about Ullar-Omega, the central villain from the Zenith-3 campaign that preceded the current one, and why he was a “Cool” villain. I didn’t go into his motives, because those were irrelevant to the point being made in that article.

Well, they are relevant to this one, so here goes: There were three characters (two NPCs and one ex-PC) who had, in the epic conclusion of the previous incarnation of the superhero campaign, acquired the power and the mandate to “reinvent the multiverse”, being elevated to something beyond mere “godhood”.

To Ullar-Omega, this not only made them responsible for every misery experienced by anyone in the re-created multiverse, it fundamentally denied them liberty and free will, something that he found intolerable. This, of course, is one of the oldest questions of religious doctrine – if God is omnipotent and omniscient and Good, why does he subject so many people to pain and malice and evil? Blaming the Devil merely undermines that omnipotence. The standard reply, that the “Divine Plan” is beyond mortal understanding, never seems adequate. What’s more, they were self-appointed to their positions.

He decided to do something about it, by forcing the Three Powers to abdicate and relinquish their power. He also decided that, since they lacked free will, it was acceptable to sacrifice the lives and ‘pseudo-liberties’ of everyone on his particular parallel-earth to that end, and so set out to conquer the world, transform the citizenry into living weapons, and forcibly ‘recruit’ them to the cause. What matters the fate of one world, even one universe, if it liberates an infinite number of others?

As a side-note, it was recently discovered by the PCs in the current campaign that the Three Powers were never as omnipotent as they made themselves out to be. Ullar-Omega was a lot closer to succeeding than they thought, and those limitations also made it clear that everything they created was done a lot more deliberately than previously thought, giving him more moral credibility than he already had.

This was a clash of principles, as described above – in fact, of the same principle, in the one case applied collectively to everyone in existence, and in the other, to a specific population on the premise that the whole was the sum of its constituent parts.

“Limited Freedom” is a non-sequetor; you are either free, or you are not. Freedom does not mean that there are no consequences to be faced deriving from your choices; it does mean that you are morally responsible for those choices, and need to accept that and “own” those actions. Those are the moral dimensions on which the epic adventure was founded. It doesn’t matter if you agree or disagree with that statement; these were the judgments of the NPC, and they put him in direct conflict with the PCs – in both cases, for idealistic motives.

Alignment and It’s Violation

A lot of people will simply skip over this section. That’s fine, but if you bear with me, you might find it worthwhile.

Alignment has a very chequered history in D&D. Many game systems don’t have it, or anything like it. Others have a set of implicit alignment standards while never actually coming out and
explicitly defining or codifying things – the Hero System, for example. I’ve always found the 9-alignment model presented in AD&D to be pretty useful, but capable of all sorts of abuse.

D&D 5e pays lip service here and there to alignment but then does its’ best to ignore the subject in terms of game mechanics. Pathfinder, of course, retains the core of the 3.x rules for alignment.

Back in 2009, Campaign Mastery ran a five-part series (Focussing On Alignment) starting with a guest article that proposed eliminating alignment altogether. It remains a controversial subject.

In theory, the GM is supposed to track decisions and actions for every character and determine what alignment shift, if any, they represent. Too much drift one way or another, and the character might end up changing alignment. Yeah, right, like the GM has nothing better to do with his time and attention. But set that aside for a moment.

If alignment matters, then there should be consequences for actions that fall outside your alignment, especially if those reach the point of actually changing that alignment through an accumulation of misaligned deeds. That seems fairly obvious and logical, but it’s also the rub – penalizing your players for exercising their free will is not all that good a choice.

At the same time, there are a couple of character classes in which devotion to a cause is part of the bedrock definition of the archetypes. Paladins come to mind, and Clerics, and yes, Druids.

In 5e, Paladins have very little tolerance for deviation; part of the deal is that they are supposed to get smacked down, hard, for any violation. Clerics and Druids get no penalties at all. In Pathfinder, there are general penalties for consistent alignment violations sufficient to change a character’s alignment, and deviations by Clerics or Paladins attract additional and immediate penalties. Druids… tend to get overlooked.

There has to be a better way, and I think I’ve figured one out. To make this work, you will need 12 tiddlywink-style counters or cardboard chits for each PC – three black (for evil), three white (for good), three in a third color (for lawfulness), and 3 in a fourth (for chaos) (actually, technically, you need five of each per PC but in practical terms three should be sufficient.

The Alignment Baseline

When a character starts play, the GM should assess their alignment and stated ambitions and ensure that the character “fits” within the designated alignment, specifically warning the player of any potentials for alignment violation that can be foreseen.

The Alignment Total

A character’s alignment total is always 6. If a character has less than 6 tokens, the balance represents “neutrality”. So a character with 3 good tokens and 2 lawfulness tokens has one invisible, intangible, “neutrality” token.

Starting Tokens

Characters start with two tokens from each of their primary alignment traits (good vs evil, law vs chaos). Priests and Druids may start with an additional token from one of their alignment traits IF THEY CHOOSE TO. Paladins and the like MUST start with an additional token from EACH of their alignment traits.

The Alignment Test

At the end of each game session or adventure, or after a particularly noteworthy action (in the GM’s eyes), he should ask himself, “is the character’s overall behavior in keeping with the character’s stated alignment?” If yes, nothing changes, carry on. If no, then the GM may choose to award one (or even two tokens for extreme deeds). If more than one token is issued, they need not be of the same type.

Each black token cancels out a white token (the player hands both back to the GM), and vice-versa. Similarly, each law token cancels out a chaos token.

If a player ever has more than 6 tokens after such canceling out, he must hand back the excess – so a player with 5 good tokens and 3 law tokens (total of eight) would have to hand two back to the GM. One must be a ‘good’ token, because that’s what he has the most of, while the other could be of either type.

Priests & Druids

These are somewhat more sensitive to alignment shifts and receive one extra token when any are awarded – so, instead of one, they get two; instead of two, they get three. These need not be all of the same color – you might get two good tokens and a chaos token.

Paladins and other extremists

These are even more sensitive to alignment and receive two extra tokens when any are awarded – instead of one, they get three; instead of two, they get four.

Alignment drift

So long as the character has one token from each of his alignment traits, he is within alignment. If he loses one, he is subject to alignment drift and is facing an imminent alignment shift. For ordinary people, that doesn’t matter too much (but it does matter, see below).

For priests, they may suffer some form of Divine Rebuke; suggested rebukes include 1d6 of unhealable HP damage for the day, loss of access to the highest level of spell for a day, loss of access to one spell slot of each level for a day, +1 to all casting times for a day, and so on. An act of contrition (a small donation or quick prayer begging forgiveness) nullifies the rebuke – for a day – but will not be enough for two days in a row. The tokens represent the divine goodwill that the character has amassed. The goal is not to punish or harm the character, it is to warn them – so if the character is in a particularly dangerous situation in which he might need his spells, some other form of punishment would be chosen.

Paladins and the like are less tolerant. They get no warnings; instead, the character loses access to all his Paladin special abilities until he redeems himself, though an act of contrition may restore them for a short period of time. The goal is to reform the character,not kill him.

Alignment Shift

If a character achieves a net balance of one token opposed to his defined alignment, his alignment has temporarily shifted. This brings no direct penalties to most characters, though it does leave them vulnerable to appropriate “Detect” spells and Divinations. But it opens the door for forces aligned in the opposite direction to attempt a “permanent conversion to the cause”; the GM is required to put thoughts of opportunities into the character’s head by suggesting possible acts contrary to his written alignment. Nothing so crude as “it would be easy to pocket the gold” or “a fancy trinket catches your eye”; be a little more subtle about it. “The merchant makes a mistake in your favor when giving you your change, do you want to keep the extra silver?” or “You really need to know whatever the innkeeper is trying to hide, but you may need to force him to come clean”. The goal is to represent a temptation to the PC.

Things aren’t so rosy for Priests. A double-rebuke, and of the more serious options offered above, a messenger or symbolic event of some sort to remind the priest of the power of his faith / his god, and the nearest Priest in good standing will be advised that one of his brothers or sisters needs “counseling”. An act of contrition is no longer sufficient, a sacrifice of some substance is required to lift the cloud over the priest’s head each day. This will take at least an hour of the Priest’s time, or cost 10 GP per character level.

Things are even less sanguine for extremists. The head of their order is notified that one of his subjects (for lack of a better, more inclusive, term) has betrayed his oaths, and a “corrections officer” is dispatched to remedy the matter with an appropriate punishment – and with the authority to strip the character of his class, should he be unrepentant.

Permanent Shifts

Two tokens contrary to the listed alignment causes a permanent alignment shift. The character earns the enmity of former friends and adherents of the deity with which they were formerly associated, while those who once would have been enemies seem to recognize a kindred spirit – one to be taken with a grain of suspicion, of course. Opportunities and invitations will begin to crawl out of the woodwork, so it’s not all bad news. The alignment on the character sheet is updated.

Priests who undergo a permanent alignment shift have two choices: a major sacrifice (1000 GPs per character level) or a week of his time spent repenting and performing appropriate deeds while reflecting upon his sins may grant him the opportunity to redeem himself in his deity’s eyes, but in the meantime, he has his full compliment of hit points and spells – but all of these have a twist of some sort that indicates that some other deity or being is trying to woo him by providing the power for them. Former colleagues and friends may be outwardly hostile, or may attempt to provide the opportunity for redemption, depending on their personalities. Once a month, the character’s former deity may send a “reminder” that he has earned the displeasure of the deity, and over time that may turn to enmity.

Paladins and other extremists don’t have to wait. They are supposed to be paragons of their calling (whatever it may be) and they have not only dishonored that calling, they have dishonored all those who pursue it. They will be actively hunted by their former order, traps will be baited for him, prices put on his head (and lesser prices for information on his whereabouts and activities). But he is neither alone, nor powerless; paragons of the opposing virtue will seek him out and offer to “convert” the character’s levels, while deities who used to oppose him will seek to encourage this conversion by granting him some of the appropriate class powers – with appropriate twists, of course.

Why these proposals are improvements

They require minimal work by the GM, and – for the most part – involve no penalties to the character of great substance. They leave the player free to roleplay his character as he sees fit – everything that happens to him occurs as a result of an outside force. They stimulate roleplay instead of stifling it.

Emotional Impact

If you employ a Good villain in the manner described in this article, expect to touch a lot of nerves in your players. By taking away the moral simplicity with which they are usually presented and making the enemy someone to be respected, even admired, at the same time as you oppose him or her, you challenge the moral authority and principles by which the players live their lives, usually without giving such matters deep thought. This can’t help but raise emotions. This, in turn, attaches significance to the adventure in their minds.

Works of fiction can explore deep moral and philosophical questions, even when they only touch on them superficially and by proxy. The very best fiction makes us think, even makes us better people, even while it entertains, and without preaching.

It can be enough to be able to ask the questions; you don’t have to have all the answers, those are for each individual to find for themselves. And introducing a Good-aligned implacable enemy can’t help but asks questions of the PCs and, by proxy, the players who operate them – what moral choices are justified? What is worth fighting for? What do you value, and why?

Interesting questions that lead to interesting times, whether it be in life, or in the relatively safe confines of an RPG, and that can only enhance the entertainment value – and force the players to think about their characters actions and choices. That’s not a bad thing at all.