When “I Know Best” Becomes the Party’s Worst Enemy

Aug 16

By Grabgar’s hammer, I’ve seen more games sink from one stubborn head than from a dragon’s breath. Sometimes it’s a player, sometimes the GM, but the tune’s the same — they “know best,” and by stone or steel, they’ll make sure everyone hears it.

These folk often mean well. They’re just so busy steering the ship they don’t notice they’ve tossed half the crew overboard. Whether it’s the player with the perfect plan or the GM running a one‑dwarf show, the result’s the same: everyone else’s voice gets lost in the clamor.

Recognizin’ the Stubborn Stone

It don’t happen all at once. First they overrule a call here, shut down a plan there. Before you know it, the group’s following orders instead of spinning the tale together. That’s when trust starts leaking out of the hull. Patch it early.

If your table’s feelin’ lopsided, give these a quiet read:

📌 Need a course correction fast?
Tap over to the GM hub for tools that spread the spotlight and settle the nerves: GM Wisdom. If your crew’s hunger for “more” is gnawin’ holes in the ship, try this plug‑and‑play dungeon that punishes greed, not teamwork: A Dungeon Built to Punish the Greedy (Not the Weak).

Turn the Cheek Without Losin’ Yer Beard

Sometimes the smartest move is lettin’ ‘em run with their plan — if it won’t doom the whole party. Let ‘em taste the consequences. When they trip, offer a hand instead of a hammer. Goodwill grows, and they might start lookin’ sideways for ideas instead o’ straight ahead.

Need a stealthy counterweight to a table tyrant? Drop in a complication that rewards collaboration over command: The Tiefling Who Was Never Really There.

Lead by Example

Players, build on other folks’ ideas; don’t replace ‘em. GMs, ask the quiet ones first and give ‘em room to shine. Bad ideas turn golden once the whole table gets their hands on ‘em. That’s the magic you lose when pride’s runnin’ the tap.

When to Have the Quiet Word

If the habit keeps rearing its ugly head, pull ‘em aside. Not in front of the table — that just pours ale on a fire. Tell ‘em you value their input, but the crew needs all hands steering. Keep it respectful and they might hear you.

When to Lay Down the Tankard and Walk Away

Sometimes the stone won’t shift. You’ve hammered, nudged, been patient… and still nothing. That’s when you decide if the game’s worth the strain. Parting ways don’t make you the villain — it means you value the story enough not to let it rot.

One Last Round

By Durven’s last tankard, the best tables ain’t led by the one who’s always right — they’re steered by folk who listen as much as they speak. If you want more grit and guidance from the old tavern, start here: