When Gold Turns Sour: How Greed Can Gut Yer D&D Table
Greed at the table ain’t just about the shiny coins in yer pouch — it’s about hoggin’ the spotlight, grabbin’ the best magic for yerself, and makin’ the whole damn game about yer own glory. In the world of D&D, that kinda behavior will rot a campaign faster than meat left in the sun.
The Many Faces o’ Greed
A greedy player ain’t always the one shoutin’ “Mine!” when loot drops. Sometimes it’s quieter — like always steer’n the quest toward treasure, sidelin’ roleplay for coin-countin’, or talkin’ the party into keepin’ a powerful item “safe” in yer own pack. Aye, I’ve seen it all. It leads to:
A Breakdown in Teamwork: The more ya hoard, the less the rest trust ya. When trust’s gone, so is the party. And without the party, there’s no tale to tell — just a mess.
Storylines Goin’ Stale: If the whole adventure’s just a parade o’ loot hauls, ya may as well rename the campaign “The Ledger of Shiny Things.” That’s not story — that’s accountin’.
Unwanted Enemies: Flaunt yer gains and you’ll draw thieves, assassins, and worse. Think The Coin of the Lost Patron is just cursed in-game? Try havin’ a DM who notices yer greed.
Player Resentment: When yer pouch is heavy but the table’s patience is light, friendships start to fray. Sometimes that crack never heals.
Why Humility Wins the Long Game
The cure for greed? Humility — not the meek kind, but the sort that knows a party win’s worth more than personal spoils. A humble player:
Shares loot without keepin’ mental tallies.
Gives others their turn in the limelight, even if ya could do the job yerself.
Plays for the story, not the scoreboard.
I’ve run games where the humble lad or lass walks away with more respect than the one drippin’ in +3 trinkets. That kind o’ player ends up with memories, not just items.
Keepin’ Greed in Check
If greed’s already sunk its teeth in yer table, there’s still hope. Have a frank talk. Spread the treasure fairly. Or toss in challenges that can’t be solved with coin — like the Ironhowl Bastion, where gold means nothin’ but teamwork means survival.
And if words fail? Let the world bite back. Nothin’ humbles a hoarder like losin’ what they clung to.
📌 If yer party’s startin’ to sound more like merchants than adventurers, it’s time to take stock — not of the loot, but of the bonds that keep yer table together. For more on how greed poisons games and what to do about it, read Loot Don’t Mean Leadership, Ya Gold-Grabbin’ Pebble Counter next.
