Backstory vs. Playstyle – Finding the Balance

Elara

So, have you ever played with that one person who writes an epic, fifty-page backstory—and then spends the entire game making decisions that, like, absolutely don’t match up with it?

Grom

Oh, you mean the Bard whose tragic, brooding past was supposed to make them introspective... but then they spend every session drunkenly flirting with shopkeepers for discounts?

Elara

Exactly! Like, you’re sitting there thinking, "Why did we need to know about the dragon that burned down your village if you’re gonna... you know, try to seduce every goblin in sight?"

Grom

I—I’m just saying, if your backstory doesn’t guide your actions in the game, it's sort of like writing a novel and then ripping out the last chapter. Where’s the, you know, the cohesion?

Elara

It’s true, though! And thank goodness, because it’s also one of the most entertaining parts of tabletop roleplaying, isn't it? That chaos of expectation versus reality.

Grom

Mhm. Chaos is one way to put it...

Elara

Oh come on, you love it. Admit it!

Grom

Let’s just say I’ve learned to... tolerate it. But this does bring up an important point: what’s the role of backstory in gameplay versus how people actually behave during a session? That’s what we’re breaking down today.

Elara

Yup, we’re gonna talk about why people do this, how to find harmony between your character’s tragic past and your chaotic goblin-seducing present, and maybe share a few tips to keep everyone, you know, on the same page.

Grom

Assuming players read the page in the first place...

Elara

Touché.

Grom

And if you’re the kind of player who’s guilty of this—

Elara

Or the DM rolling your eyes at it—

Grom

Then stay tuned.

Grom

Alright, let’s get into it. Players spend hours—sometimes days—crafting these tragic, layered backstories, and then... it all goes out the window during the first session. Why?

Elara

Mmm, yeah. Like, borderline Tolkien levels of detail.

Grom

Right, but then the moment they sit at the table, it’s like they completely forget all of it. Suddenly, the stoic warlock with a dark secret is doing keg stands at the local tavern.

Elara

Okay, but isn’t that part of the magic? You get caught up in the moment! Like, maybe the warlock’s secret is that he can’t resist a good party?

Grom

That’s... creative, I’ll give you that. But, more often than not, it’s less about clever twists and more about people just, you know, playing however they feel in the moment. Like there’s no connection to the backstory whatsoever.

Elara

Sure, but isn’t that also partly the game’s fault? I mean, look at most RPG systems. They kinda force you into certain roles based on the mechanics, right?

Grom

Exactly. Your character’s personality might not align with optimal builds or party strategies. And then there’s the party dynamic. Suddenly your lone wolf ranger is best friends with the Bard after one shared hot spring episode. It’s... jarring.

Elara

Hah, classic! Or the edgy rogue who’s dead set against teaming up but ten minutes later is leading the charge into combat with "new besties." Happens all the time!

Grom

Mmhmm. And it makes you wonder why they spent so much time crafting that "gritty, emotionally distant" persona in the first place.

Elara

Because it’s fun to write, Grom! C’mon, don’t you secretly love those "tragically misunderstood antiheroes" that everyone rolls their eyes at?

Grom

I... wouldn’t say love. But I’ll admit, there’s value in giving characters depth. It just... falls apart when the playstyle doesn’t match. Like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.

Elara

Or maybe it’s more like the square peg realizes it, uh, wants to be a hexagon instead? You gotta let characters evolve!

Grom

Sure, evolution is one thing. But abandoning the entire backstory—not exactly an evolution, is it?

Elara

Fair point. But let’s be real, it’s not always their fault. Party dynamics shift, the dice don’t cooperate, or maybe—

Grom

Or maybe they didn’t think this through in the first place.

Elara

Fine! You’ve got me there. But still, isn't that part of the challenge? You roll with the chaos, adjust as you go... Oh! Like when—

Grom

Let me guess. You’ve got examples from a time your character completely contradicted their backstory?

Elara

Oh, you know I do. But I also know you’ve got examples where it went hilariously wrong, and you’re dying to tell me about them.

Grom

Alright, fair enough. Let’s talk examples.

Elara

Okay, here’s one for you. Isn’t it great when your character’s backstory surprises even you? Like, you imagine them as this stoic knight, but then some goblin pulls a prank and, suddenly, they completely lose it.

Grom

Right... because nothing screams "stoic" like chasing a goblin around a tavern while screaming at the top of your lungs.

Elara

Exactly! It’s unexpected, but it’s also kinda perfect, don’t you think? Like, maybe that one moment of humiliation becomes this huge turning point in their arc.

Grom

I can see that. But it depends... Are they actually evolving as a character, or is it just random behavior with no connection to their backstory?

Elara

Okay, fair. So, how do you make it work? Like, how do you take those random goblin-chasing moments and fold them into the bigger picture?

Grom

The key is treating your backstory as a starting point, not a fixed script. Think of it as the, uh, scaffolding for where your character begins. Their personality, motivations—those should grow as they interact with the world and the party.

Elara

Ooh, so kinda like... planting seeds for character development? Like, I start with a bard who’s just out for fame, but then—

Grom

Wait, wait. Let me guess. Then they witness some tragic event and suddenly dedicate their life to something much more noble?

Elara

No! Well, okay, maybe. But it could also go the other way, right? Like, the bard starts noble, but then the fame gets to their head and they spiral out of control. Drama!

Grom

Sure, as long as the in-game experiences are influencing their arc. That’s the important part. Whether it’s a betrayal, a close friendship, or, I don’t know, their first real failure—they need a reason to shift.

Elara

Totally! And players forget how much the little moments can shape their character. Like, being saved by another party member? Boom, instant loyalty arc.

Grom

And the reverse, too. A perceived slight can lead to tension, even a grudge. But the evolution works best when it happens naturally—not because someone decided it, but because the story drove it.

Elara

So true. But, like, how do you handle it when your character’s actions completely contradict their backstory? I mean, what if your vision doesn’t match how they’re playing out?

Grom

You reconcile it. Adjust the backstory so it makes sense with what’s happening in-game. Or revise their motivations. Maybe the concept was too rigid to begin with, and that’s why it feels off.

Elara

Right, like, no one’s gonna care if you tweak their tragic backstory to explain why they’re, uh, seducing goblins now.

Grom

Exactly. Adaptation is the name of the game. But there’s a line. If you’re completely rewriting the backstory to justify every impulse, then what was the point of having one in the first place?

Elara

Fair. But I feel like that’s also where the fun happens, you know? The tension between what they were and who they’re becoming.

Grom

Agreed. Just make sure there’s a reason for it happening. It’s a fine line between evolution and inconsistency.

Elara

But you know what? None of that character growth happens in a vacuum. Enter the GMs—kind of the ultimate puppet masters, right? They’re the ones pulling all the strings behind the scenes.

Grom

I wouldn’t call them puppet masters. It’s more like they’re... weaving a tapestry. They might guide the threads, but the players still have to choose where they're going to pull.

Elara

Ooh, poetic! But also, I mean, they can totally mess with us, can’t they? Like, plucking some tiny detail from a backstory and suddenly that thing you wrote as a joke becomes the core plot.

Grom

True. And honestly, that’s good GMing. Finding those hooks in a backstory and seamlessly integrating them into the larger narrative—that’s what makes a campaign feel personal.

Elara

Totally! But how do you balance it? Like, if my character is all about reclaiming her family’s honor, but someone else is on, I don’t know, a revenge quest for their lost puppy, whose story gets center stage?

Grom

Ah, that’s the trick, isn’t it? A good GM will juggle those individual threads without letting one overshadow the entire campaign. It helps to treat backstories as resources, not roadmaps. Sprinkle bits and pieces while keeping the story moving forward.

Elara

So what, like, little callbacks here and there? Maybe the lost puppy shows up as an NPC, or the family honor thing gets tied to an overarching villain?

Grom

Exactly. And it doesn’t always have to be front and center. Even small moments—like a recurring reference to a character's past—can make the world feel more connected without derailing the main story.

Elara

And what about letting players drive the narrative themselves? Like, isn’t it more fun when the story kinda adapts to what they latch onto?

Grom

Within reason, sure. But that’s where the GM needs to maintain balance. Too much freedom, and the story loses cohesion. It’s not about micro-managing—it’s about guiding the chaos into something coherent.

Elara

Okay, but what if the players just ignore their backstory entirely? I mean, you’ve seen it happen. How does the GM keep it relevant without, like, forcing it?

Grom

That’s when you utilize the world. Create moments that naturally pull the backstory into the narrative. Maybe an old rival shows up, or a hometown is in danger. It anchors the character while giving players the choice to engage—or not.

Elara

Yes! Like giving them breadcrumbs instead of yanking them by the leash. Let it feel like their idea to follow the lead.

Grom

Exactly. And if they don’t take the bait? Fine. Shift focus to a different player’s backstory. It’s a shared experience, not a solo character drama.

Elara

Right. And then you’ve got moments where everyone feels like their story matters. No one gets left out of the spotlight for too long.

Grom

Exactly. But it requires planning. A GM who’s too reactive risks losing sight of the larger story. You have to anticipate where player backstories intersect with the world, and know when to step in—or step back.

Elara

It’s like... orchestrating a symphony. The GM’s gotta make sure every instrument gets its solo, but the whole piece still sounds good together. Man, GMs have it tough.

Grom

They do. But when it works, when the players and GM are in sync—it’s worth it. That’s the magic of TTRPGs.

Grom

Speaking of backstories, here’s a thought: when is it okay to change one? I mean, at what point do you look at what you’ve written and go, "You know, this isn’t working?"

Elara

Oh, totally! Like when you’re halfway through a campaign and realize your noble paladin’s tragic past just doesn’t line up with how they keep... I don’t know, bribing kings and stealing artifacts?

Grom

Exactly. It’s one thing to have your character evolve naturally, but it’s another to have a backstory that feels like a shoe that doesn’t fit. The biggest sign? When it actively clashes with how you’re playing them.

Elara

Right! Like, maybe you started with a super stoic, no-nonsense backstory—

Grom

—And now your character is cracking jokes at every opportunity.

Elara

Exactly! But honestly? I think that’s kinda awesome. Like, it means the character’s evolving based on what’s happening in the game.

Grom

It can be awesome, sure. But there’s a difference between evolution... and inconsistency. If you’re ignoring the backstory entirely, maybe it’s time to rework it so it lines up with what’s actually happening at the table.

Elara

Totally! So, like, instead of pretending your backstory never existed, maybe you tweak it? Maybe the paladin with the tragic past isn’t actually noble—they just... pretended to be?

Grom

That’s a good example. Small retcons can keep everything cohesive without breaking immersion. Adjusting your motivations, or adding new context to old details, works much better than hitting the reset button.

Elara

Oh, but let’s talk about the big one: when do you just abandon a backstory altogether? Like, forget retcons. What if the whole thing just... doesn’t work?

Grom

If it becomes a liability. If your backstory starts to limit your roleplaying choices, or it feels so disconnected from the game that it’s actively a distraction, then it might be time to let parts of it go.

Elara

Ooh, yeah. It’s like pruning a tree, right? You cut the dead branches so the new ones can grow.

Grom

That’s... surprisingly accurate. But yes. And sometimes, you replace old elements with new ones that come out of gameplay. Emergent story moments can shape a backstory in ways you can’t predict when you start.

Elara

Right! Like, maybe you never planned for your bard to have a rivalry with a street magician, but it happened during a random session and now it’s, like, their whole deal.

Grom

Exactly. That’s the beauty of collaborative storytelling. Those unexpected moments can add layers to your character that no amount of pre-writing could achieve. But you have to let them influence the backstory organically.

Elara

Love it. And honestly? Sometimes letting go of an old backstory element feels freeing. Like, who cares if the tragic burned village thing doesn’t come up again? Replace it with something cooler!

Grom

Cooler, sure. But the key is to replace it with something meaningful. Otherwise, well... you’re just trading one shallow trope for another.

Elara

Fair! Okay, so tweak what works, ditch what doesn’t, and embrace the surprises along the way. Got it. Oh! And one more thing—

Grom

Let me guess. Another tangent waiting to happen?

Elara

Well, that or a really good example. But fine, I’ll save it.

Grom

Thank you. Because I think we’ve got the main points covered here.

Grom

Alright, before Elara finds another tangent to dive into, let’s recap. We talked about mismatched backstories and playstyles—how they can create what I like to call creative chaos.

Elara

Emphasis on creative. Like, chaos is kind of the point, right? But it’s more fun when it feels intentional, not just... random goblin-seducing.

Grom

True. The main takeaway there is to let the backstory be a guide, not a straitjacket. Characters should evolve based on what happens in the game, but still stay true to their core motivations.

Elara

Yes! Growth, not whiplash. Like, let your edgy rogue be besties with the bard if it makes sense, but maybe, you know, give us a reason. Did they share secret snacks at the campfire? Did the bard save them from a killer mimic? Make it work!

Grom

Exactly. And we also touched on how GMs play a crucial role in this balance. They can subtly nudge characters back toward their backstory through world events—or give players space to let their actions shape new ones.

Elara

Totally! They’re like, uh, gardeners. Planting plot seeds and letting the players decide which ones to water. Speaking of which, player-driven moments are gold for character growth.

Grom

Right. And that’s where retconning or tweaking a backstory comes in. If something doesn’t fit anymore, adjust it to reflect who the character is becoming. But don’t turn every impulse into a rewrite.

Elara

Or just delete the tragic burned village and replace it with something cooler—

Grom

Something meaningful.

Elara

Yeah, yeah, meaningful. Like a nemesis, or, I don’t know, a lost dog they’re obsessed with finding?

Grom

...Sure. If that adds depth, why not?

Elara

Perfect. So, balance the fun chaos with meaningful arcs, let backstories evolve, and never underestimate the power of a good in-game moment to redefine everything.

Grom

That’s the heart of it. Roleplaying is collaborative storytelling, and the best stories come from adapting to the unexpected while staying true to your character’s core.

Elara

Well said. Okay, I’m calling it—let’s all retire our tragic burned-village tropes and come up with something fresh.

Grom

You’re just looking for an excuse to create chaos, aren’t you?

Elara

Always.

Elara

Alright, fine, maybe we won't burn all the burned-village tropes just yet—hey, speaking of mismatches, have you ever had a character whose backstory just… didn’t match how they actually played in the game?

Grom

You mean like the tragic paladin who can't stop pilfering treasure from ancient tombs?

Elara

Exactly! I bet someone out there has a way wilder example. If you do, let us know in the comments—we might even share it in a future episode!

Grom

And if you’re the kind of listener who loves a bit of self-reflection, think about what we’ve discussed today. Is your backstory enhancing your gameplay, or conflicting with it?

Elara

Ooooh, deep question. Also, super curious how many people are willing to admit to a goblin-seducing phase in their campaigns. No judgment. Well, maybe a little.

Grom

Elara. Focus. Next time, we’re shifting gears to something critical for every player and GM.

Elara

Big teaser moment here, folks! We’re talking—drumroll, please—

Grom

Roleplaying Red Flags.

Elara

Yes! Like, what happens when a party member goes full murder-hobo, or someone just can’t stop hogging the spotlight?

Grom

Or behaviors that derail the game, break immersion, or worse—make players uncomfortable. We’ll break down how to identify these red flags and handle them constructively.

Elara

It’s gonna be a good one. So, don’t forget to subscribe, like, share—uh, you know the drill. Support your favorite chaotic podcasters.

Grom

And leave a comment, especially if you’ve got a roleplaying story or question for us. We always love hearing from you.

Elara

Alright, that’s it from us today. Till next time, roll your dice, play it messy, and maybe double-check your backstory.

Grom

And that’s all for now. On that note, we’ll see you next time.