How Does Playing to Win Change the Game?

Author: Xenken

On an abstract level, the ultimate goal of D&D is the same as any other media: to have a compelling experience. However, the ways people derive that vary, and come in different amounts.

Though it differs, given how much it correlates with optimization, it is worth examining some of the reasons why different players have differing levels of “winning” as a player motivation, and what effects they can have on player and table behavior.

A majority of players don’t really think about D&D all that much. If you post and read about D&D on various subreddits, a forum, a Discord channel, or Tabletop Builds, you have already differentiated your level of engagement with the game into a different category. That’s not a good or bad thing, it’s just the reality of the fanbases of popular games, and it’s true that 5E’s structure can support it really well. Players can play to simply enjoy their experience with the lore, explore interesting environments, fight and defeat a fantastic monster, roleplay a particularly interesting character archetype, or whatever else. Of course, as characters they want to accomplish whatever the adventure’s goal is—that’s the motivator in the fiction. As players, however, they’re much more passive in terms of where they see themselves influencing where the story will end.

This lack of attachment to (or active and knowing pushback against) winning as a player goal creates a “Stage” style of play. This goes on to impact the rest of the way the game unfolds.

For one, characters played by players in this mindset are less capable than they appear. Even when they look powerful, they’re less likely to actively search through their moveset to find the right tool for the situation, and they’re less likely to make decisions that are tactically optimal, but are traditionally seen as “unfun.” Some examples of this might be  staying close to cover, completely refusing to engage in melee with a slow enemy, or undramatically retreating to a better position.

On top of this, optimizing by players with even a little system mastery is often frowned upon, especially if it leads to situations where one player is stronger than another because of their build. This can lead to a whole metagame of players making builds for the specific purpose of hiding power from other players. (The “God Wizard” used to be THE build for this, but it’s such a staple archetype nowadays that it can be unsubtle on account of the concept becoming more mainstream. If you find yourself in this situation, consider the Artillerist Artificer with multiple sets of pipes of haunting or a Druid using sleet storm instead of conjure animals. Basically the same playstyle with different edges, but far enough removed to maintain anonymity.)

This isn’t to say there’s no character variety, however. Character building as an act of optimization has to be careful because most features are just mediocre at best. 5E isn’t big on locking features to other ones, and in general a random combination of stuff will trend towards a relatively low average power level, an effect that only increases as you add more choices like feats and multiclassing. If one’s character building priority is anything other than winning, be it realizing their own original work, imitating a specific character in fiction, or just maximizing a gameplay loop or gimmick they really like, they’re usually not going to be very competitive with someone who is focused on optimization. The Stage playstyle becomes a way to guarantee that no tension will come as a result of that. This also blends well with players whose options for their characters are more limited because they’re uncomfortable with reflavoring class features.

Stage players typically hold the most trust in the DMs as the ultimate balance arbiter, so (assuming it’s done well) DMs who adjust encounter difficulties on the fly, “fudge” rolls, etcetera, work better with these players than any other type. 

The simplicity of this mindset is a benefit, and sometimes as fanatical D&D fans we underestimate how huge it is. For players who aren’t obsessed bookworms with most of the game memorized, either of the other two levels described later in the article represent tons of seemingly unnecessary effort being put into the funny fantasy game. Furthermore, with some very notable exceptions, most encounters in official published adventures are balanced around this level of play, which makes sense because it’s the most popular one. This is a lot of the reason why the published adventures are often known to be easy by players dedicated enough to talk about D&D in their off-time with other fans. A typical player with the Stage mindset can both interact with the adventure as designed and send that energy to other things.

For many (if not most) players this is the only way they can enjoy D&D as a relaxing experience. Players who get great joy from being completely unrestrained in executing their vision for their character tend to enjoy this level the most too, as do players who primarily use D&D as a means of socialization with other people. Even players who are in it for the combat can find this to be their home, either because they want to portray how their character fights in a certain way or just because they don’t factor player ability into the stakes for their in character combat.

Learning about D&D is just natural if you end up playing a lot of it. You meet others who play like you, try out different characters, and generally get more experience. This improved knowledge, in turn, tends to change how one feels about their role relative to the game.

In the “Sporting” mode of thought, the will to win is primarily seen as something to be held up in cooperating roles with other motivators. Story, the environment, character or character interactions, and so on.

More experienced players tend to pivot here because a) they have a few bits down to memory by this point, b) they’ve been in (or at least heard of) multiple different types of games and at this point have some clear ideas of what they do and don’t like, and c) they recognize that as players they have tools to push the game in their preferred direction. Trying to win is one of them.

Communication is another. Given the motive to take a more active role in steering the game’s direction, Sporting players are likely to be in more frequent dialogue with their DMs post “session 0.”

In the transition, optimization moves from ignored to accepted, though there is still a bit of finagling over how strong a character can or is supposed to be. Players with high system knowledge in this mode are likely to make solid characters that aren’t necessarily maxed out, or make characters that have a gimmick that still has work put in to round out their general competence. 

This mixed strategy has some unique advantages. For one, it’s the most adaptive and flexible of the three. Not only can it be comfortable in groups with players at any of the three levels, but it’s often naturally positioned as a secondary mediator between players with extreme playstyle differences—not only with winning but more generally. Since the core idea of the Sport style is using playing to win to emphasize other aspects of the game, it can apply to and aid many different kinds of players depending on the focus. Players that like exploration can travel the furthest reaches of the world without worry. Players that like a challenge can coordinate with the rest of the table to create perfect difficulty curves. And players that like to create a meaningful story can always be just the right power level to influence the narrative without being overbearing or suddenly sapping tension.

And if players decide to ignore such a balance entirely? To go all out and place winning at the top of their values for the game? Well then they experience gameplay as a War, the sum result of them trying their hardest to win.

You’d think all characters built at this stage would be top tier pinnacles of design but…no, not really. For sure, there are some of those—players with huge amounts of experience flexing it into crafting masterpieces—but they’re the diamonds in the rough, and there is a lot of rough. Why?

Well, winning isn’t a D&D exclusive motivator! Many new players immediately take to seeing it like any other competitive game, where winning is of course the point. Of course, these players have a problem in that they lack both experience and information, so their builds are by and large not great. Better than most Stage builds, certainly, but still unpolished. Regardless of source though, it’s all about the mindset and the results. 

Players in this mindset often suggest better build options to other players and appreciate taking similar advice, although it may naturally lead to disagreement over the best way to proceed. If the group or potentially even subgroup is instead in agreement, then there’s a good chance some build decisions between them will just be forced. (Making Sharpshooter or web mandatory, for example.)

This extends to suggestions during an adventure or during combat. For example, a melee character could be told to hang back if the entire party being at range means an easy win, or the party’s arcane caster may get advice on the exact spell cast needed to put a game away. Players using meta-knowledge of monsters to make better decisions is often accepted and on rare occasion even encouraged, and if they spend time talking amongst themselves then they really do enjoy it: a DM trying to interrupt them with any sort of “reduce turn time for realistic RP” rule will find themselves with much more seething than usual.

For these players, it’s fine for an encounter to be easy, even ridiculously so. After all, in a lot of ways making an encounter easy is their job. Similarly, as a DM you may find that time-skips may be highly appreciated. (Ending the encounter and moving on when the team reaches a position where victory is clearly inevitable, moving to the puzzle being solved when the players figure out the methodology and not just the answer, etc.)

Players who play with this mindset tend to really not like DMs adjusting encounter difficulty on the fly, not only because they’re the most sensitive to changes that don’t make sense, but because they see the set world as the board in play. Unplanned increases in difficulty are basically “cheating,” and even decreases are seen as stealing player driven fates. Generally, it’s considered foul play. This isn’t to say these players don’t like reversals or surprises, but they have to be ones planned ahead of time.

Why would playing like this be fun? Well, lots of reasons. The machinations of a perfect and well executed plan, the utter comedy of just rolling through published enemies designed for Stage play, the power of what characters can become when you pull out all the stops, the sheer awe of seeing them in the encounters that do challenge them. The engagements War play provides are unique and can be very strong.

So, what are some things we can take away from this analysis?  

Even though there’s a level of self-selection, it’s uncommon for a table to have all players thinking the same way. As a player, it’s important to check if everyone else is on the same page. In particular, if a Stage and War player are at the same table, it’s very likely that both will have to meet in the middle to ensure either can have some fun. As an example: the former accepting more tactical advice while the latter makes a build that specifically complements and spotlights the former. 

The DM perspective is more complicated, as each of the three levels require related but very different DMing styles because each sees the power relationship between DM and player differently. They also offer hints as to which realms the players have their fun in, which really is one of the penultimate DM questions.

As a final takeaway, maybe we can all try living it up on other levels every now and again. At minimum, more cross-pollination between players giving a genuine crack at seeing through the perspective of others can only end up being mentally enriching for everyone involved, and who knows? Maybe you’ll find something you like!