When One Player Keeps Derailing the Whole Game
This guide is part of Mike’s GM Survival Scrolls.
Start here: When Yer Table’s Crumblin’ and Yer Torch Is Burnin’ Low
More hard-won lessons from the edge of a collapsing campaign:
By Harnak’s Shattered Pickaxe, Not Again...
There’s always one, ain’t there? One lad who thinks “collaboration” means “main character syndrome.” One milk-drinkin’, torch-snuffin’ fool who charges off into the crypt alone because "it’s what my character would do.” And suddenly, yer beautiful plot’s on fire, the party’s in two different towns, and you’re makin’ up new rules mid-session just to keep the thing from fallin’ apart like a wet map in a monsoon.
I’ve run games where the rogue stole from the cleric mid-fight. I’ve seen sorcerers seduce the quest-giver’s horse. I once had a bard who—on three separate occasions—burned down the inn before askin’ what town he was in. If yer lookin’ for glory, lad, go wrestle a dragon. Don’t derail the whole bloody campaign with yer theatrics.
Now, I ain’t sayin’ every table needs to run like a dwarven mining crew (though it’d be nice), but consent to the damn group experience ain’t negotiable. One player who won’t read the room can snap yer table in half faster than a goblin sneezin’ on a mimic’s tongue.
So here’s how ya deal with ‘em—without startin’ a war or walkin’ away from yer own bloody table.
Don’t Let a Pebble Collapse the Tunnel
👉 Had yer campaign crumble because one player kept hoggin’ the spotlight or takin’ the group off-track? Find yer spine, find yer tools, and find yer grit in the GM Wisdom archive — or come knock on the Tavern doors if yer story’s truly gone off the rails.
Why This Happens (And Why It Ain’t Just Them)
Sometimes it’s malice. Sometimes it’s ignorance. Most times, it’s just some poor fool thinkin’ the game’s a solo scroll where the rest o’ the party’s just there to hold their torch.
Let’s break it down:
Spotlight addiction. They want all the attention, all the time. If it ain't their scene, they’ll make it their scene.
Tone mismatch. Yer runnin’ a tragic tale of loss and duty, and they’re still pretendin’ they’re in a slapstick comedy.
They think “in-character” excuses anything. Nope. “My character would do that” is a reason, not a get-out-of-jail scroll.
They’re just lonely. Sounds soft, but it’s true. Some folks act out ‘cause they don’t know how to ask for help—or for time in the spotlight.
And sometimes? It’s you. Aye, lad. If ya only write scenes for the paladin, or ignore the rogue’s backstory for ten sessions straight, don’t be surprised if the rogue takes matters into his own thievin’ hands.
Tools to Fix the Madness
1. The Mid-Session Mug-Clink
Take a quick break. Ask if everyone’s havin’ fun. Not just the loud one. Everyone. Some’ll grunt, some’ll nod—but listen close. If half the party’s sittin’ silent, ye’ve got a structural fault, not just a loud player.
2. The Quiet Chat
Next time, pull ‘em aside after session. No yelling, no scroll-wavin’. Just: “Hey, lad. Some of yer choices are makin’ the rest of the group’s game harder. Wanna talk it through?” Keep yer tone like a tavernkeeper refusin’ to serve bad ale — firm, but not unkind.
3. Clarify Expectations
This should’ve been done at Session Zero (we’ll get to that article later). But if it wasn’t, do it now. Tell ‘em what kind of game yer runnin’. Let folks vote, discuss, sort it out. That player might be in the wrong kind of game—and that ain’t entirely their fault.
4. Redirect, Don’t Punish
Punishment breeds resentment. Redirection breeds clarity. Reward teamwork. Celebrate collaboration. Give in-game benefits for makin’ decisions with the group instead of against it. And if they still wanna go solo? Don’t change the world to save ‘em from it.
5. Let Consequences Be Real
If they keep splittin’ the party or pickin’ fights in taverns with necromancers, let ‘em eat what they cook. A little in-game death can be a hell of a motivator. But don’t ambush ‘em—make sure they know the rules of the tavern before the ale starts spillin’.
Don’t Let One Fool Drown Yer Whole Table
👉 Swing back by the GM Wisdom page for more ways to steady the ship, or visit the About Mike’s Tavern to understand why we give a damn about keepin’ yer games alive.
⚠️ If yer party’s been unravelin’ thanks to a spotlight-hog or chaos gremlin, don’t bury the issue in silence. Dig it out, hammer it flat, and build a better bloody table.
FAQ
Q: What if the player’s my best friend outside the game?
A: Then talk to ‘em like a friend. Keep it kind, keep it real. Friendship’s strong enough to handle honesty, if it’s worth its ale.
Q: Should I just kick them out?
A: Only if all else fails, lad. Try a chat, try structure, try redirection. If they still choose destruction, then aye — sometimes the only way to save the game is to lose a player.
Q: Can I write them out in-story if needed?
A: Sure can. Have 'em leave on a personal quest, vanish in a portal, or take up residence in a cursed tavern. Do it clean. No bitterness. Just sweep the floor and keep servin’.
