Care Ain’t Courtin’, Lad. Show Respect, Not Romance
Every tavern’s got one.
The player who mistakes a kind word for an invitation, or a shared laugh for a promise.
And if ye don’t think that happens at yer table, then ye haven’t been payin’ attention.
By Margann’s Crusty Beard, lad, let’s get one thing straight.
Compassion ain’t flirtin’. Empathy ain’t interest.
Ye can care for someone at the table without makin’ it about yerself.
Mike’s Tale: The Bard and the Broken Line
Had a bard once who thought every smile was a quest hook.
Didn’t mean harm, mind ye, but couldn’t tell the difference between affection and attention.
One of our players, Mira, went through a rough patch. Lost someone close.
He kept tryin’ to cheer her up with compliments, songs, little flourishes of “support.”
She laughed the first night. Second night she went quiet. Third night she left early.
After that session, I pulled him aside and said,
“Lad, she needed peace, not poetry.”
He turned redder than a dragon’s snout and said he was only bein’ nice.
So I told him what I’ll tell ye now: kindness that confuses someone ain’t kindness at all.
If ye don’t know where that line is, study The Strongest Character at the Table Is the One Who Listens. It’ll teach ye that attention ain’t the same as understanding.
How to Care Without Crossin’ the Line
When someone’s hurtin’, offer steadiness, not sweetness.
Ask what they need, don’t assume.
If they share somethin’ personal, don’t turn it into a performance.
Keep yer tone steady, yer words short, and yer intentions clear.
Ye can hold a door open without steppin’ through it.
For more on stayin’ grounded around pain, take a look at Ye Can’t Heal a Heart with Hit Points and When Grief Sits at the Table, Pass the Dice Gently. Both show how care works best when it ain’t about you.
The Right Kind of Warmth
There’s a kind of warmth that builds trust, and another that burns bridges.
The first comes from respect. The second from need.
If ye can’t tell the difference, slow down.
Every player deserves safety at the table, not wonderin’ whether kindness has a price.
If ye wouldn’t say it to a sibling or a friend, don’t say it to yer fellow player.
That might sound cold, but it’s the only way to keep the hearth from catchin’ fire.
And if ye need a reminder that the table’s not a stage for yer personal saga, read Yer Not the Main Course, So Stop Hoggin’ the Spotlight.
The Mid-Tavern Reminder
Ye can’t build fellowship on flirtin’.
A kind word means more when it’s got no secret attached.
👉 Find more tales of balance and decency at Tavern Etiquette and Mike’s Tavern. Or take a stroll through GM Wisdom to learn what real leadership at the table looks like.
Boundaries Are a Blessin’
Don’t wait for someone to tell ye that you’ve crossed a line.
Learn to see it, respect it, and step back before it’s needed.
Good players protect each other’s peace.
Great players protect it without bein’ told.
If you ever find yerself wonderin’ how to help someone without makin’ it personal, look at The RPG Table Ain’t Therapy, But It Can Still Be Kind To DnD Players.
That one’s about keepin’ yer care clean and yer intent honorable.
By me beard, that’s what separates a friend from a fool.
FAQ
Q: Can I comfort someone without makin’ it weird?
A: Aye. Ask what they need, don’t hover, and treat their pain like a secret they own.
Q: What if they take my kindness the wrong way?
A: Clarify once, kindly. Then let it rest. Respect means keepin’ things simple and honest.
Q: How do I tell if I’m crossin’ a line?
A: If it wouldn’t feel right with everyone watchin’, don’t do it. Boundaries are easy to keep if ye act with clean intent.
