that awkward moment when a player is not a good fit.
Finding players used to be the hard part
I remember the days when you didn’t have much choice about who sat at the table for RPG night. Between the Satanic Panic and the general view that “only nerds play Dungeons and Dragons,” it was hard to find other players. I remember moving to a new town and having to explain to people that “Dungeons and Dragons is just a story game..”
That meant putting up with players who had the stereotypical hygiene issues, paired with a horrendous social deficit. Some of that I can blame on ADHD (mine) and autism. Other times it was bullies who spent the whole game trying to prove they were better than everyone else, in and out of character. And you put up with it, because the alternative was not playing at all. (I’m sure there were times I was the one just trying to fit in, too.)
These days there are so many players, and it’s so socially acceptable, that you don’t need to settle. Need someone to play the Cleric? Ask a mate, there’s a good chance they’ve always wanted to play.
But what happens when a player just isn’t a good fit?
I run an open table, but this week tested that
As a Game Master and a business owner, I tend to be pretty tolerant. I run an open table policy, I don’t care if you sit on the polar opposite side of my politics. As long as you don’t make the other players uncomfortable, we’re good. Let’s roll dice.
This week, I almost had to do something about a new player.
Before I get into it: I’ve got nothing personal against this guy. He’s probably not someone I’d hang out with outside of the game, but it was the other players’ reactions that nearly pushed me to act. I try to give people time to adjust their behaviour, I said I’m tolerant, and I meant it.
The Rigger who wouldn’t stop talking
The story starts with a message in the group chat: “Hey, we have a Rigger player.” (We play Shadowrun, a Rigger is the vehicle expert, kind of like a pilot or a getaway driver.) New players are always welcome, so this was good news.
Game night rolls around and we start filing in. We meet the new player, who seems a bit anxious, not unusual for a first session. Then he starts talking. A lot. More than a bard on his fifth Red Bull. Most new players are quiet, and you’ve got to work to get them to say anything even on their own turn. This guy talked the whole time, more than me, and I’m the GM.
Now, being chatty isn’t enough on its own to get someone shown the door. It’s a minor thing you’d mention after the game, or in a break. But the conversations kept going one direction: every time I said something, this new player would hijack it, like he was doing loud, performative listening rather than actually engaging.
Then the first text landed on my GM laptop.
“He is trying to get on my nerves.”
“Better check on Z .. she does not look happy with this guy.”
Then he said it
He called one of the female players “honey”, out of character. Not good. To give you an idea of who he was talking to: she’s an educated, sharp woman, and calling her “honey” less than 45 minutes after meeting her was never going to land well. I don’t think he meant anything malicious by it, but it was still a critical social fail.
She snapped back, set the boundary firmly, and told him that wasn’t appropriate. I stayed out of it, she can handle herself, and unless she asked for backup, I wasn’t going to step in. To his credit, he did apologise. Maybe a bit too much.
By this point we’d been playing for almost three hours and had barely rolled dice a handful of times, because the session had been eaten up by this player dominating the conversation, the personality friction, and the drawn-out apology.
At the end of the night, the bookshop owner (who hosts our games and has dealt with the same kind of situation himself) offered him a polite invite back. That’s when I knew, as GM, I needed to step in.
Why I had to get involved
Regardless of whether you think he’d actually done anything wrong, two other players and I were a bit rattled by his presence. A new player changes the dynamic of a good group, for better or worse, depending on who they are. I’ve seen a single new player kill a game group faster than a great dragon on a revenge tour.
The whole point of game night is to relax, leave your troubles at the door, have a few drinks, eat the snacks your diet says you shouldn’t. So when one player makes the game “no fun,” something has to give.
The player he’d offended spoke up, and the others started chiming in too. The player who’d originally invited him apologised without being prompted, which told me his behaviour hadn’t sat right with anyone. Another player mentioned there was just something about him they couldn’t put their finger on, but didn’t like.
I was gearing up to tell the player who invited him that this new guy wasn’t a good fit, when she beat me to it. Lucky for me, I didn’t have to have that conversation myself.
Personality conflicts are never fun. Telling someone their mate’s invite has been revoked isn’t fun either. But as a Game Master, my job is making sure everyone at the table is having a good time, so I was ready to take action if it came to it.
Tips for bringing new players into your game
- Meet as a group outside of game time when you can. Personality conflicts tend to show up in that setting first, so you can quietly not invite someone back, no one has to be offended.
- Pick from people you already know. Now that the stigma around roleplaying is gone, the uncle everyone likes could turn out to be your next great player.
- Run a one-shot first, something outside your main campaign, with a clear beginning and end. It gives everyone a low-stakes way to see the new player’s style and whether they’re a good fit.
Would I play with him again?
Probably not. It’s nothing personal, I’d just have to think carefully about how he’d interact with everyone else. If I walked into a game where he was already seated, I’d be polite and probably find a different table the following week.
Because at the end of the day, the whole point is to have fun. If someone at the table is making that impossible, go play something else.
