No, Yer Character Doesn’t Need Another Flashback
More trauma? Again? Save it, lad, we just asked if ya wanted soup.
If yer flashbacks are longer than the actual plot, maybe cool it with these instead:
When Proving Yer Worth Breaks the Game (and Yer Soul)
Or see the full Try-Hard Survival Index and learn how to roleplay without draggin' everyone through yer memoirs.
Mike’s Opening Rant: The Flashback That Killed a Side Quest
Had a rogue once who, every time someone asked his name, launched into a story about his childhood in a cult, his forbidden romance, the sword he buried in a friend, and the phoenix that judged him.
Took 30 minutes. JUST TO SAY HIS NAME.
By the time he finished, we’d forgotten what we were doin’. One player left to go eat. The druid fell asleep. The plot? DEAD IN THE DIRT LIKE A GOBLIN WHO INTERRUPTED A PALADIN’S BREAKFAST.
Lad, I love drama. I do. But there’s a time and place. And flashbacks? Use ‘em too often and yer story becomes yer story — not ours.
Don’t Build a Timeline — Build a Moment
👉 Mike’s Tavern is where drama learns to pace itself. Come learn how to drop just enough pain to hook ‘em, then move the hell on. Player Builds & NPCs | Tavern Etiquette
When to Flash Back — and When to Shut Up
A well-timed flashback can elevate a campaign. Used wrong? It’s a scroll jam.
When it works:
Your party’s directly facing a piece of your past.
You’re making a choice, and the flashback gives it weight.
It’s short, pointed, and ends with action.
When it fails:
It’s not related to the scene.
It’s longer than the actual conversation it interrupted.
It doesn’t change anything — it’s just self-indulgence with extra adjectives.
The Spotlight’s Got Limits, Lad
Roleplay ain’t a cutscene. It’s a conversation. If yer takin’ ten minutes every time someone asks “why’d you do that,” you’re not roleplayin’. You’re performin’. Worse — you’re steamrollin’ the table.
Let other players make memories too. Let them react to your story — don’t recite it like yer auditionin’ for a cursed bard college.
Wanna see characters with dark pasts who don’t shove it down our throats? Look at:
None o’ them needed a flashback. They let their choices speak. And that, my lad, hits harder than a hundred weepy soliloquies.
You’re Not the Main Character (And That’s a Good Thing)
Here’s a little secret: if yer flashback’s better than yer actual in-game actions?
YOU’RE PLAYIN’ THE WRONG DAMN GAME, YA MEMORY-CLINGIN’, TRAUMA-LOOPIN’, TABLE-HOGGIN’, SHADOW-BROODIN’, STORY-STRETCHIN’ DUNGEON DRAMATIST!!
…By Tharn’s itchy chainmail. Breathe, Mike. Breathe.
Look. Real character growth happens in game. Through rolls. Through choices. Through shared scenes. Not through emotional TED talks no one asked for.
FAQ
Q: Can I have a dramatic backstory?
A: Of course. But let it unfold slow, and make sure it serves the party’s story — not just yers.
Q: Is it bad to do flashbacks at all?
A: Nope. Just space ‘em out, make ‘em brief, and tie ‘em to present-day tension.
Q: What if the table seems into it?
A: Good! But still check yer timing. Just ‘cause they’re listening doesn’t mean they’re not waiting.
The Past Ain’t Worth Telling If the Present’s Boring
👉 Mike’s Tavern helps ya pace yer pain and wield yer backstory like a blade — not a bedtime story. Join us in makin’ scenes that matter in the moment. Learn More at Player Tips | Ask Mike Somethin’
