Campaigns are large sandboxes for adventurers to play in. Some DMs prefer to have more linear campaign progression, but the freedom of D&D is that you can do just about anything you want. For some players, that level of freedom brings forth a need for some stability. If that player is a DM, they can set whatever rules the table needs to achieve it. Your campaign’s world is whatever your group needs it to be. Players often react by creating extremely rich backstories for their characters as a pillar to lean on. A rogue princess with a royal curse to break; a lone barbarian who scoured the land from a young age, fighting for survival at every turn; or a prodigious mage’s assistant, finally being sent out into the world to learn and use magic as they’ve always dreamt of.
Many players are used to intricate backstories because that’s largely how many fantasy stories begin. And while that’s a completely valid way of building a character, there’s another side of (many sides of) character creation to explore. Frontstory. In my endless sea of lectures I’ve found that frontstory is best explained with the examples of the fictionally consistent, Jim Sterling inspired, Chungus and Grungus.
The Timeless Epic of Chungus and Grungus
Let’s call your adventurer with the two-page backstory, Chungus. They have, for example:
- A family lineage that includes some recent direct-family death or illness
- A personal mystery that they will allude to, but don’t plan to reveal until 12 weeks in
- One powerful childhood moment that set them on the path of becoming an adventurer
Because Chungus was built on these elements, all of the reactions they have to present events will be weighed against that backstory. That’s how our player figures out who Chungus is; using their backstory as a filter and seeing what comes out. A pitfall of this is that players keep their eyes on week 12 more so than what’s happening in front of them.
One day, Chungus’ time comes to an end. A victim of DM’s critical success and a player’s critical failure, dear Chungus perishes at a time and in a place where there’s no hope for them to continue on. We’ve lost Chungus. Gone, but never forgotten. Press F to pay respects. Chungus’ player didn’t get far enough in the campaign to reach their fulfilling reveals—and thus, all the backstory that was never revealed or never paid off is lost to the wind.
After the funeral and a hero’s sending, a new adventurer must take their place. Though Chungus’s journey is over, their player still wants to be a part of the game. And so our player has some options. They could whip out an old favorite from another campaign. They could make a brand new character who is so tied into the narrative that of COURSE they’d join the party—but our hypothetical player doesn’t have the time to write a chunky, plot hook-laden backstory this time. So instead of those options, they create Grungus.
Our player didn’t have a lot of time to write a chunky, plot hook-laden backstory for Grungus, so this new character is just a strong warrior who happens to have a horse in this narrative’s race. Since this player has little history to riff off of, they use each event as an opportunity to be a fresh eye peering into the lives of a close-knit group, just to remain relevant. To this player’s surprise this works. Not just as a way to navigate the game, but as a way to have fun. Why?
It’s because Grungus is all about what’s happening in the moment. The point of frontstory is to let go of the foundations and let the present be the beginning of your epic.
Backstory isn’t a dirty word. All good characters need motivation, and a character’s backstory can be rich with motivations. They give the player a clear path forward and a clear way to react to the things around them. Backstories are a guide on where to start before players get into the rhythm of who their characters grow into later on. Grungus, however, throws the guide out the window.
Frontstory is about making those important bullet points that Chungus had and creating them all later, based in the events that happened in the game’s present, not its hypothetical past. The personality and development of the character is heavily weighed in when they begin to understand their party and the journey they’re undertaking. Here’s an example:
In two different campaigns, Chungus and Grungus both find themselves in the same situation: collecting loot at the end of a battle. They both find out that one of the rogues that they killed had only joined this band of thieves to eventually find the assassin that killed her family. There’s a hidden diary filled with pictures and notes about her entire journey. It’s a very emotional moment for the players, but how do the characters react?
Chungus can often have their reaction tied down to the personality or experiences dictated in their history. Chungus decides that, because they’re supposed to be gruff and absent of emotion due to many past family deaths, that this assassin’s note isn’t an important development. It’s still completely possible for Chungus’ player to move their adventurer in the opposite direction, to help this deceased woman on her quest, but if backstory players aren’t careful, everything gets filtered through that dense history and passed by without a second thought.
Grungus doesn’t have any large traumas or past incidents that hold them back from assessing the character choice presented before them. Thus, whatever decision they make is based on the principles that the player is being faced with rather than being filtered. Do you want Grungus to be more empathetic? Do you want them to dash immediately into this new quest, or are they going to support whatever decision is made by the party at large? Is Grungus more hopeful than the others because they’ve seen fewer horrors? Or are they cold-hearted and focused on the main story quest? Any type of character can face these questions, but frontstory characters have each and every decision they make impacted by how much character there is to build. A character that isn’t burdened by backstory is able to act dynamically, and make the most interesting decision in the moment. Grungus is a vehicle made to learn that lesson.
The Great Reflector
There are a great many uses for characters build solely from frontstory, but one of the most useful is the ability to turn pieces of the party’s identity back at the characters. Adventures take a toll on adventurers. We receive battle scars of the body as well as the mind. The longer that this continues on, the more that people begin to become accustomed to the process of scarring. Seeing a young warrior die doesn’t carry the weight that it once did, because it can’t. To journey toward one’s final destination, the normalcy of war is an inevitability.
Grungus, as someone who can join a campaign at any point in the narrative curve, is able to look at the other characters from the perspective of one who doesn’t carry that burden. They can be a vehicle to ask some big questions like, “How have we changed from where we began?” For the group of players who enjoy some deep philosophical thinking, this question can lead to some major character development.
Not all of the reflections that Grungus brings to the table have to be loaded with heavy undertones. For more mischievous players, you can use them as a way to poke at tense romances and friendly rivalries. A brand new teammate is unknowing of the “this is complicated” energy standing between your “two ladies just bein’ pals and swinging swords”. It’s a fair question to ask what that tension is about, especially at a very tense romantic moment between the two.
Not every Grungus has to be born yesterday. Being focused on frontstory doesn’t mean that a character can’t have defining ideals or experiences. Grungus can be brand new to adventures of this scale, or they can be a seasoned warrior of even higher caliber than the character they’re replacing. The core of frontstory is to let the major details of who they are and what moves their motivations be decided in the tense moments of the present to a much larger degree than in the past.
How to Build Frontstory
So we know what Grungus can do and how they can use their position in their social group to mix things up, but how does one make the beautiful, most amazing Grungus of legend? Well, it comes down to fundamental theming. Building as you go, which is the core of frontstory, doesn’t mean that you have no foundation from which to progress. The road you begin from can stand on a principle or idea.
Most players encounter a “Grungus opportunity” when their character dies, as mentioned earlier. If the campaign has been going on for some time and you’re choosing to add a brand new hero to the story, having an illustrious backstory may solve the question as to why you arrive, but it may not give you time to explore the potential value of said story in what little time the campaign has left. A new character can connect and blend into the campaign by reflecting off of the existing narrative themes.
What are those themes? If you aren’t sure, try talking to your DM or fellow players. In heroic campaigns, these themes can include empathy, the concept of good and evil, personal loss, fear of the future, or of the past coming back to haunt a world of peace. These elements of your hero’s journey are just as valuable as making an old friend, or as pragmatic as choosing to play a non-player character. The set of skills you use to bring your adventurer into the fold are focused on what the story is about, rather than what a character might have been before the story took place. The nuance of this awareness can bring about new ways to enjoy not only D&D, but roleplaying in general.
Why Would I Grungus When I Can Chungus
Or, why would I ever make a backstory-less character if I enjoy writing elaborate backstories? A fantastic question! Here’s another: how many times have you begun a campaign as someone who has yet to hold a sword, or who has never cast a spell? If that number is zero, then there’s an opportunity to experience something you never have before.
When you create a character with a dense backstory, you partially answer a great deal of questions on your own that you may wish to explore together with your party. How did I learn to fight? Who were my mentors or teachers? What difficulties arose that made me venture out into this grand world of fantasy? Sometimes a backstory is used as a way for players to set a checkmark next to these questions to signify that they’re answered rather than letting the campaign be the host for those answers.
In early editions of Dungeons and Dragons, non-player characters that don’t have stat blocks or character sheets are level 0. They don’t have skills to check or scores to modify. They are normal, everyday people. Your character was likely just like them, until one day they weren’t. You begin the journey that will one day become a story better than you could have written alone.
So if you’re from the land of backstories, try piloting a Grungus around in your next oneshot. And for those living for each moment to moment engagement, give backstory a try and see what it brings out of you as a player.
Whatever happens, new experiences help freshen up old skills. So take the leap and see what’s on the other side.
Have you ever created a character with no backstory, and whose personality developed exclusively through frontstory? Tell us about them in the comments!
DC is an independent game designer, and the creator and author of plot ARMOR, as well as a freelance writer for Wizards of the Coast. You can find them assisting the tabletop roleplaying game community’s growth on Twitter @DungeonCommandr.
I love the concept of a front story. I am building a character right now who has the quintessential sad backstory. But, my plan is to allow him to develop his own front story when he gets a good wack on the head. Maybe a mountain troll clubbing him, or maybe a mind flayer who doesn't eat brains, but wipes minds clean.
Or maybe, like reality, some people try their best to forget who they were before this moment and change themselves.
Really enjoying reading your articles man, great take on things
f for chungus
Characters don't actually collect scars during their adventures tho
This basically seems like what we used to do back in ye-olden days of AD&D and OD&D. Your character was so simple and people just rolled stats, selected equipment and named the thing. Maybe the DM would allow you to select/roll a previous occupation, but your life was mostly assumed uneventful. You layered on and built the backstory and personality of your character as time went on and you encountered situations that you had to deal with and as you interacted with NPCs. You felt it out, edging out the boundaries of the character and inventing stuff over time. A lot of this had to do with the fact that first level AD&D characters were simple to make and quick to die, but it always felt better to me as your character was built in the moment, and off the interaction with the campaign, it's themes, and story/events.
Juxtapose this with a lengthy prose of backstory (I've done this too on occasion) where many life events have already occurred and a simple level 1 character can often be portrayed as having made lengthy journeys and accomplished great or foul things (begs the question why they are only level 1 then). It scratches a creative itch in the player for sure, but it rarely sees any sort of evolution or exploration of those facets unless the player is in a campaign where the DM is building the entire story off of the character's backstory after they've been created, which in my experience isn't that common, as most DM's come to the table with a story or campaign world prepped to some degree.
I like to suggest my players use the background system as is, without filling in too many details. Lean on the idea of old school D&D more, and some more modern systems that encourage players to improvise details of their backstory in the moment when it's relevant. As Dungeon World might put it, Draw Maps, leave Blanks, but the map is your character's backstory. THen your backstory becomes relevant to the story and the moment, because it was defined in that moment, as you seem to be driving home in this article. Your characters past and present become intertwined in a way that an elaborate backstory beforehand sometimes doesn't.
I prefer front-story characters. I'd rather play the adventure and have some ideas as to how my character reacts, but not be bogged down by pages of names and life events that I'm supposed to remember. I also like coming up with backstory details as the story happens around me and I decide to find moments in the past that could influence and relate to what's happening in the present.
But I've never been a fan of "let me tell you my ten page backstory, please".
the problem with this thinking is that backstory and frontstory are mutually exclusive.... they aren't
I love writing a juicy backstories but have often found they get in the way of actually playing, for many of the reasons you describe. For a while now I've taken a different tack and purposefully try to write an element into my characters to make sure they have a reason to move the adventure along. I think I've used that to lean into the frontstory you describe, to make sure my characters are living in the moment instead of chained by their past. For some of them, the backstory has been useful when it was in service to the story, but their motivations drove their actions more than their past did. I've found that in many cases their histories never surfaced, and sometimes my characters actively avoided them as their character flaws or ambitions pushed them forward. So while not necessarily a blank slate, motivations/flaws over history has been a useful tool for me. Even though I've occasionally been disappointed by the lack of a dramatic reveal, and my characters' choices are sometimes frustrating, they are almost universally fun!
If I know nothing about the character, there's nothing to relate to. Yes, by the time we get to level 5, there will be something, but that doesn't help me engage the players out of the gate with something related to their character.
I take exception to the "we're nobodies" at 1st level. You did not spring out of Zeus' head fully formed. You had a life. You lived. You decided or had forced upon you something that got you off your ass to become an adventurer. Without that incitement, you're staying at home and there's no story.
That's just basic fiction writing.
A lot of the time I think it varies on the group you play with normally I decide on just a theme for my character and write just the basics. After getting a feel for the other players and DM,d then on being more plot driven or reactive character.
My friend who introduced me to RPGs phrases it, "Don't come in with too long or tragic backstory; the campaign should be your character's backstory."
While there should definitely be some background, and connection to other people in the world, I have found that (even in the same campaign*), characters whose history happens mostly during the campaign end up being more dynamic and equally fun to play as characters whose personal history happened well before it.
*For example, in one campaign I was playing a character who was a druid who verged on mad scientist. He was working with a group to create more powerful healing, and ways of sharing skills and abilities between people. They healed a young woman from what was basically cancer, and when I decided to retire that first character since he had achieved the goals he set out to do as an adventurer, I switched to playing her; she was someone the party knew, and most of her history had been part of the campaign and interactions with the other PCs.
This is exactly why I love the Xanathar's family tables; it allows you to roll or pick a few family members (whether blood relations or not), and who they are in rough outline, so the DM can flesh out ideas later.
Lvl 1, you're a carpenter's son. That's your backstory.
The village is invaded as the 1st adventure. Welcome to incitement. You get to decide, Front Story wise, how would your character react. Why? Because your character has never faced anything like this. You don't have a 30 page back story about all of the victories you've had (at lvl 1), you're the son of a village carpenter and the most exciting thing that has ever happened to you is a splinter that really hurt. You have a 2 word backstory, nothing more, yet the GM has everything they need to create a thrilling adventure that can last 20 levels.
It's that simple. You decide, in that moment, with your friends, how do you react. In that moment, you have created a shared Front Story that is *FAR* more engaging than any backstory you could ever write. And your incitement? Who is invading? Why are they invading? Are they invading elsewhere? Someone has to stop it, and your Front Story has decided that it's you and your friends.
Why do I say this? Because in 40+ years of running RPGs I've done it more times than I can count, with players ranging from 30 page back stories to no backstory at all because they'd never played and didn't know what a backstory was and in every case it was absolutely the same, exciting and engaging. Backstory is a crutch.
Give me a player who wants a Front Story over a novel-writer any day.
I think either way having both is feasible. But the backstory shouldn't normally be created in a vaccuum, but if it is then the player should strive to leave blanks that can be filled in, or leave certain parts vague enough to be easily worked in to any setting, much like a level 1 generic adventure.
Really backstory works best when there is a session 0 with players all creating their backstory together with the DM who is feeding info and answering questions, or alternately creating the world/story based off said character creation.
I once played a tortured soul type, a fallen aasimar who was a warlock with a fiend pact master. She had done something horrible that caused her to fall from grace. My backstory was an entire page long, definitely not my usual tack. But the backstory while informing me of her past and personalities also set up her future. I left parts of it open to interpretation about what actually happened, and asked the DM to make some stuff up and surprise me as I learned about my repressed memories. I ventured into a Curse of Strahd campaign in search of my 'humanity' so to speak, in a world full of darkness and despair, and while it wasn't directly tied to the story events when I created it, it cleaved to the overall themes, and was open enough to be malleable as to what my character had actually done, such that the DM could have easily tied it in with little thought to existing events and NPCs.
Oh without a doubt both is possible. Heck, both is ideal, honestly. Backstory is certainly a good thing to have, but it's not everything and honestly it's only useful in the first few levels, then everything else is shared Front Story development, which is why I say, if my players only have 1, I MUCH prefer a Front Story because that lasts 20 lvls.
There's a different kind of lazy where people avoid upgrading their life experiences by not letting new thoughts in.
Played every type of character. Pure front, pure back, been playing for years. Best characters had a bit of both.
I love this. I've read about the notion of a frontstory before (and have leaned into it with a couple recent characters) but this may be the most compelling explanation I've seen.
Something that helps me play this kind of character: I still establish their personality, general interests, etc. in advance. Those things can change as a character grows and evolves. Their backstory, not so much.
Yes, characters are better with a good front and a well-rounded back. Both very noble to put work into, your comment made it seem like u were a back guy only. 🤭
Yes, characters are better with a good front and a well-rounded back. Both very noble to put work into, your comment made it seem like u were a back guy only. 🤭