Writing – Because I’m evil

Storytelling 101 states that an interesting story needs a good conflict. Great stories and great characters are defined by their struggles. This can come from a social issue or a force of nature (or something both powerful and mindless enough to essentially count as one), but the more versatile (and tricker) option is to bring in an antagonist. This week I’m going to ramble on about what I think makes for a good one, and while we’re at it we might as well make a few. They’ll be designed with tabletop RPGs in mind, but you could likely fit them into a novel just as easily.

Let’s tinker up five antagonists today. Different genres, different purposes, nice and diverse so we’ll have a lot of different parts to work with.

One will be a wizard, a classic archetypical fantasy villain.

One will be the leader of a band of modern-day insurgents, well-suited to be the focus of a peacekeeper squad.

One will be a sci-fi fleet commander, leading the war effort against the protagonists.

One will be a supercriminal, a good foil for a team of crimefighters.

One will be a legendary warrior, a straight up martial challenge.

Motivation is a big part of what gives an antagonist depth. Thankfully, few people get up in the morning and think ‘how can I be more evil today’. Your antagonist needs something to bring them into conflict with the protagonist to make them struggle for what they want. For some this may be a direct and specific desire to ruin the protagonist’s day. For others they may have a particular goal or certain methods that the protagonists just can’t abide.

The wizard wants power. If only I had more power, he thinks, I could fix everything. Haven’t we all thought the same at some point? From his point of view it seems like the neighboring kingdoms can barely go a whole month without going to war over some percieved injustice or bit of dishonorable conduct. Someone with enough power could force them to stop fighting and listen to reason. If that reason just happens to come from an all-powerful dictator, well, maybe that’s just how it’ll have to be.

The insurgent wants to remove what she sees as an unlawfully occupying military force. Some of the locals might be ready to just roll over and say the war is done but she won’t stand for it. You don’t just give up on your homeland. You do what your have to do so your people can live free, no matter the cost.

The commander wants to secure his government’s foothold in this sector. He’s a career soldier who believes in serving his nation. All those resources that make a utopian lifestyle possible for loyal citizens (such as his family) have to come from somewhere. Wiser planets have in the past agreed to acccept his government’s authority and reap the benefits peacefully. If they didn’t want to come willingly, well, that’s where his fleet came in.

The supercriminal wants to get rich. Robbing banks, stealing priceless artifacts, the whole nine yards. Way better pay than working 9-5, and more exciting to boot. Sure he might have to go on the run now and then, but that’s a small price to pay to have the money to do whatever whenever.

The warrior wants a good fight. The who and the why are unimportant so long as he finds the thrill of combat, testing himself against the strongest opponents and riding the razor’s edge. Soldiers, mercenaries, adventurers, anyone who can give him a good challenge.

So we know why they do what they do. What, then, do they do? This too is an important layer on which to divide the well thought out competition from the saturday morning cartoon villain. Remember, an antagonist doesn’t necessarily need to be evil; he just needs to make the protagonist struggle for his goals. Sometimes that goal might be ‘make the antagonist stop trying to reach his goals’.

The wizard will need a lot of power if he’s gonna take over the world. Best to start small and conquer some lesser towns first out on the outskirts, lest he get the king’s army on his doorstep too soon. Plus with a good bunch of minions under his command he can round up assorted magic items to increase his power for the eventual siezing of the throne.

The insurgent wants to come out of this with a clear conscience, though she accepts that this may not be possible. The way she sees it enemy soldiers are still enemy soldiers. A little assassination here, a little bombing there, and she and her compatriots will do whatever they have to in order to drive out the invaders. Hopefully they won’t have to deal with collaborators, but she’ll do what she has to do.

The commander prefers swift use of maximum appropriate force. It might not make him many friends among the locals but breaking up any potential resistance early means no long drawn out bloody conflict later. History might paint him as a villain but the future would be more prosperous for his actions.

The supercriminal sees himself as beyond the petty antics of lesser crooks. He carries a gun, but he uses it as more of a social contract than as a weapon. He also only robs from the rich, though that’s more a practical than ethical matter; the poor don’t have giant money vaults and million-dollar artifacts to pilfer.

The warrior does whatever will get him into the next good fight. Usually there’s a good war on somewhere, but if there isn’t one handy he might go start a few. If all else fails he might even just go knock over some caravans. That’ll get someone’s attention.

Now that we have a motive and means we need an opportunity. How does the protagonist get mixed up in the antagonist’s business? If you antagonist has a direct vendetta against the protagonist then the answer is obvious; Bob wants to ruin Frank’s day. For others you’ll need to find where the paths of protagonist and antagonist cross.

The wizard’s presence may first be felt in his organization of wandering monsters into organized camps and raiding parties. It may be several encounters before the party even knows the wizard is behind it all, and from there they’ll no doubt have to find out the location and defenses of his tower so they can try to take him down. A race for magical macguffins that can enhance and/or seal away his power are also reliable tropes.

The insurgent is likely to be fighting to displace the army the players are supporting, and may even be the soldiers targeted by her efforts. The party may first hear of some malfunctions and mysterious disappearances if she wants to keep things quiet, or she might go straight in and make the message loud and clear that the war is still on.

The commander is the easiest one to pit against the party if they’re remotely connected to the military; he’s commanding the soldiers opposing the party. They could be natives of the sector he wants to conquer, or perhaps an allied military force called in to help stop him. Either way, wherever the commander establishes a foothold the party will need to go in and uproot him.

The supercriminal, if he’s as smart as he thinks he is, would plan his crimes according to local resistance. If he’s aware of the party he may plot some crimes in the areas they patrol to put them on his trail for the added thrill of escaping them. If he’s the more subtle type you could give the party a longer investigation, putting together clues to figure out the supercriminal’s identity and next heist.

The warrior could just walk right up and pick a fight with the party, but this can make things a bit too open and shut if it’s a fair fight. You might have him first appear when he’s far too powerful for them, thrashing the group and leaving them alive so they’ll train up and come back later to give him a proper battle. If they’re already strong enough for him and he just needs to get their attention he might go harassing travellers to lure them out to a location of his choosing for a good fight.

So that’s framework done for five easy antagonists, ready to be garnished with personality traits and served up your next game night. A well designed antagonist makes the story shine all the more as the conflict deepens, letting the reader or players know what’s at stake and why. Just don’t forget to make good quality protagonists as well…

(I forget where I found this.  Some old Star Wars webcomic back when Jedi Knight was big.  I think the title was something about a Mynock?  Like Drunken Mynock or Wandering Mynock or something.  At any rate, it amuses me.)


Writing – What has it got in its pocketses?

Anyone who’s joined me for a round of tabletop gaming can attest that I take a nearly inconcievable amount of time on character generation (or chargen, as the hep cats say). My tendency to overthink why certain pieces fit together a certain way has been known to hold up both my writing and my gaming (which I suppose is a form of co-operative writing). For example yesterday I sat down to write a quick chapter in which a fellow needs to get into a building, have a scrap, and then get thrown out a window. Seemed simple enough. But then I started to wonder at the whys.

He should probably have a kevlar vest. And a helmet. What kind of helmet? Motorcycle? Nah, then he can’t see up. But a hockey helmet would seem unprofessional. So motorcycle helmet it is. He should probably have some gear too. Handcuffs, pepper spray, that sort of thing. Should he have a gun? He’d probably decide he either doesn’t need it or doesn’t want the temptation to use it. But is that a decision he’s come to before the story or a development to be seen on-camera? Maybe it’s in a flashback. And hey wait. Where does one find a building that gangs can meet and conduct illegal activities in that also has a fourth floor window for the forthcoming defenestration?

Show, don’t tell, as they say. As refrenced in the title (a question I ask my players whenever I have them gather ’round for chargen), I find you can tell a lot about someone by what they carry with them and what they prepare for. One might pack an old-fashioned revolver because she can repair them easily and weapon jams are rare. Another might choose one with the largest ammo capacity, not particularly interested in gunning folks down so much as providing plenty of suppressing fire to discourage folks from shooting at his allies. Yet another might not know skidoo about firearms, simply picking the biggest shiniest handgun he can find in hopes of intimidating his way out of having to get into a firefight at all.

The rest of my character’s gear might range from a few recreational items for a socialite to some multipurpose gadgets for a tech guy to a vast shopping list of wilderness survival gear for a ranger (a byproduct of my time in the Scouts). Plenty of characters have a family heirloom or seemingly insignificant trinket that turns out to be critical to saving the day at some point. But what I find most interesting are the things people keep that have no value beyond the sentimental.

I forget what it was that I was reading (or maybe watching even) but there was this scene where someone figured out that this other guy was a spy because his wallet only had money in it. No movie ticket stubs, no business cards, no pictures, etc. Just a façade without personality. Everyone’s got stuff they carry around just because. In most of the MMOGs I’ve played I usually have at least one bag full of random nicknacks and keepsakes from friends. Sometimes items of great monetary or strategic value that will never be used as such because I don’t wish to part with them.

Your character’s keepsakes can say volumes without having to say much as well as being a handy spark for plot arcs. An old knife that’s been worn down and resharpened so many times that it barely has any toughness or edge left to it. The doorknob from an old house that burned down a long time ago. A key to a safe deposit box whose contents are unkown but that you are set to inherit in ten years. A bit of wood you’ve been whittling off and on for a week, though you haven’t decided into what yet. The white king piece of a chess set custom-made for the Czar. The wrapper from a brand of candy bar they don’t make anymore.

I could probably keep on with that forever but you get the idea. You can give your chargen a hearty injection of character development by asking the right questions.

Writing – Mustache

My stab for this week at the 100 Word Weekly Challenge. My first thought was to do one about a soldier pacing back and forth guarding the Tomb of Unknowns at Arlington. Seemed kinda like cheating because a good chunk of it would be his internal monologue about the guard procedure. But then a bit of googling said that soldiers aren’t allowed facial hair. So I started over. And then another googling revealed they’re allowed mustaches after all, just not big bushy beards and such, but at that point I declared ‘pleh’ and went with something a little different.


Frost gathered on his mustache as it often did this time of year. It wasn’t quite cold enough for snow, but plenty enough for his breath to make phantoms in the night air. As usual, the stark autumn chill did little to keep the streets clear this night. The next wave approached. Searching flashlights preceeced the semi-ordered mob, advancing upon his position in a vague formation as he pulled his mask down into place, grinning beneath it. They fanned out as they approached his position, shouting their mighty battle cry in unison: “Trick or treat!”

Writing – Coffee

As a part of getting myself back on track with productive regular writing I’m gonna start sticking to the 100 Word Weekly Challenge at this dandy blog right here.  Each week a writing prompt is selected and, as it says on the tin, your goal is to write a quick little story using exactly one hundred words.  It can be a fun little metagame to express your idea concise enough to fit precisely on the line.  Whoever writes the best-voted submission gets to pick next week’s topic.  The following is my entry in said challenge.


It was coffee.  Just coffee.  Later it might be a dark crowded room and a great silver screen.  It might be a long stretch of empty highway and wind blowing our hair back.  Perhaps soft murmurs and nervous, anxious, eager exploration.  Maybe somewhere private.  Maybe somewhere public.  The ending may come in mere minutes.  Or some hours.  Or several years.  It could end in this cafe or on my doorstep or hers, or on some porch in some future.  But the beginning is here, with coffee.  Just coffee.


Writing – National Novel Writing Month

It’s that time of year again; National Novel Writing Month is upon us. For those not in the know, it’s an annual writing challenge to crank out fifty thousand words in thirty days (a little over sixteen hundred a day if you keep up with it). Whether you make it all the way through or not it’s a great little writing exercise because it encourages you to just get the idea out there. You can edit and update it later to turn the pile of jumbled plot arcs and confusing characters into a cohesive and compelling narrative, but first you need to make the jumble so you have something to edit later. If you want to give it a try or find out more about it, get ye hence to NaNoWriMo.org. You can find me there as Orion283, plodding along a few paragraphs at a time. This also means my reviews will be coming just a little bit slower as I’ll be diving into my story idea whenever the ideas hit me, though the review for Rock Band 3 is right around the corner.

For the moment all I’ve got is the little prologue you’d see in the first page or two of the book, but I kinda like how it turned out. I did disobey my own advice from the above paragraph a little though, because as I was writing the scene with two random throwaway characters they went and plotbunnied into legitimate characters who’ll have their own ongoing story arc. Anywho, time to accquire a root beer float and dive back into the writing. In the meantime, behold ye the prologue to… that story about stuff. (I take so long to name things that if I waited til I had a good title for the book I’d never get started).

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“Donuts again? Way to play to the stereotype.”

“Anything to pass the time. Not much else to do these days aside from this and clean-up duty.” Malcom MacIntyre joined his partner in sitting on the hood of the police cruiser, putting the box between them and settling into the aforementioned ‘this’ that primarily involved waiting for something to do. It was a cool September evening, with nice clear weather just right for city-watching from atop the hill by the park. “Did I miss anything interesting?”

Emily Brigham picked out a jelly-filled pastry, turning it about to decide upon an ideal angle of attack. “Nah, just a five-oh-five-alpha and a two-eleven, both taken care of. Red one,” she said as she knocked on the hood.

“Did you see on the news about the Rangers going up against the Warlocks last night? Shut ’em down in under an hour. Blue one,” he said with a knock.

“Leopards would have had it cleaned up in half the time. Green one.”

Malclom eyed the box to see if they remembered the coconut ones this time. “Are you kidding? One of their guys has one arm.”

“Better arm than you.”

“Yeah but he’s got an unfair advantage. Purple one.”

Emily shifted her feet. “Another for the short list of people you’ll admit you couldn’t take in a straight fight?”

“If it was Marquess de Queensberry style I might be able to – heads up!”

The two officers unfortunately had to abandon the remaining donuts, diving to the ground as the box and the police cruiser were crushed into the dirt by a fellow in a red jumpsuit with a flowing white cape falling upon it at an impressive speed, leaving a man-shaped impression on the hood and fragmenting the windshield. Following close behind was a vaguely humanoid robot, leaping after him with intent to shred him with its mighty claws. Despite having landed with sufficient force to pancake an ordinary man he didn’t seem fazed in the least, planting his feet in the robot’s chest as it landed and sending it flying overhead behind him. As he got to his feet a second robot appeared on the scene, one of its gauntlets folding open to reveal some kind of cannon.

A sound not unlike a dozen motorcycles starting up simultaneously heralded a glowing orb launching from its arm cannon. The caped man’s response was to rip the hood off what was left of the police cruiser and use it to deflect the incoming projectile, then hurl the makeshift shield at the previous mechanical assailant attempting to ambush him from behind, embedding one chunk of metal halfway into the other. He dodged the next several shots by levitating into the air, darting about like a humming bird, then then dove in and delivered a series of powerful haymakers that reduced the robot to scrap metal. He then floated over to the two officers, white cape flowing in the night breeze, hovering about as casually as though flying was more natural to him than walking. “Sorry about the cruiser, officers. I trust you can take it from here. Duty calls.” And with that he shot off into the sky towards the city to deal with some other crisis.

Emily looked over the previously peaceful surroundings that were now covered in the smashed car and robot parts, then to the barely-visible cape disappearing into the distance, then to her partner. “White one.”