No matter how well-thought out your concept for a character is, that concept isn’t going to survive the trip from your brain to your mouth to your gaming group’s ears unchanged. As much as I’d like to just pull my ideas straight from my head, like the origin of Athena, and throw them into play, that’s just not how things work around here. But that’s ok!

As a player

In the first campaign I played in, I imagined my sorcerer, Celeste, as a person who was stubborn, curious, prone to magical mishaps. When we started playing, some of that stayed the same. She was curious enough to get herself into trouble. Many unlucky rolls led to more than a few Wild Magic Surges (she was blue for a while).

Because I was hesitant to take the lead as a new player, Celeste also ended up being quieter and more passive than I intended. The other characters were more headstrong, so Celeste’s stubbornness faded into the background. That’s alright, though—Celeste was still fun to play. I had fun interacting with the other players’ characters and watching their dynamic develop.

This happens on a smaller scale as well. I tend to anticipate how my characters will act next session, imagining scenarios that may come to pass that my character will have to react to. But between the dice, the DM’s plans, and my fellow players, nothing happens exactly as I imagine it. That’s okay, because it’s great to be surprised!

Early last year, I had a totally different concept of how Finnith would grow as a character in the SBotLL campaign. I had no idea that later that year, the party would split, and he’d have to figure out what to do on his own. My fellow players’ decisions surprised me, but it was dramatic and made sense for their characters. Because of the split, everyone had their own adventures for a bit. This gave each character experiences that the other characters didn’t see.

Writing a story together

It’s okay for your ideas to change as they enter play. Your idea of your character is probably going to be different from how you play your character, and your mental image of your character’s personality might even differ from others’ interpretations of them.

Everyone’s at the table to have fun, and everyone’s there to make a story happen. Your gaming group is like group of writers—the players are each responsible for writing their own characters, and the DM takes care of writing the rest, with some randomness thrown in from the dice. Different writers naturally have their own interpretations. You are all collaborating on a story. Everyone’s got a hand in this, so sometimes ideas change as the story goes on, whether intentionally or not. This is also part of why you leave holes in your backstory and leave room for your character to grow, but that’s a separate topic.

You’re free to discard ideas about your character that don’t play well or aren’t as fun to play as you thought.

In D&D, nothing about your character is true until you say it.

Want to change something about your character’s backstory? If you haven’t said anything about it, you can just change it. Even if you’ve already told the DM your backstory, you can work with them to alter it into something that’s more fun for you. You don’t have to be perfect when you’re making your character.

There are many ways your idea of your character will change as they enter the campaign. Even after that, your character will continue to grow in unexpected directions—it’s impossible to predict how the combination of DM, dice, and players will shape events. And really, it’s more fun that way. The future of any campaign, and any character, is uncertain, save for one thing: you and your group are creating a story that can never be replicated.

As a Dungeon Master

As a DM, there are countless times I’ve thought up an NPC or plot point that has changed because of how the players reacted or how I actually played them out. Personalities shift and, as in all writing, some content gets left on the cutting room floor. Quirks appear or disappear as the idea makes that journey from my brain to my mouth to my player’s ears.

And the same principal holds—it’s alright, because you don’t have to be perfect, and you’re making something unique with your players.

Even if you want to portray a type of character that just doesn’t land the way you want it to, it’s fine as long as everyone’s having fun. It’s alright to roll with what ends up coming out of your mouth.

Remember, you’re collaborating with the players. Nothing will go as expected, because the future is uncertain. Your ideas won’t survive first contact with the session. That’s what’s weird and exciting about D&D—telling a story with everyone where no one knows what will happen next!