Winners don't need spellbooks: How to make nonmagical NPCs into legitimate power players

There comes a time when you have to tell every new Pathfinder player the hard truth: Wizard-killing warriors simply do not exist.No matter how many feats you take, how many weapons you carry, and how high your attack bonus and CMD are, you simply cannot fight wizards, sorcerers, or even bards using just your sword, your bow, and a whole lot of attitude. Fighting a high-level caster with that load-out is a straight-up death wish, and that goes double for characters who try to do it without copious amounts of magical gear. If the mage has at least 10 in intelligence or wisdom, he will outwit and outplay any martial with ease, thrashing them before teleporting his way to safety as soon as the fight becomes anything other than an all-out curb stomp. There's simply no way around it: magic always trumps martial in the fields of tenacity as well as straight-up firepower. I've tried to circumvent this, but in the end there is simply no way to do it: a spellcaster will always win in an outright battle.

Which is a shame, because there are so many fantastic characters who don't use magic at all who may have a place in the setting. Conan, Moriarty, Han Solo, and so many other iconic characters operate without any magical aid, so there is good reason as to why GMs would want them in their games. Conventional means of power probably won't work, so unconventional ones will have to take the stage.

This means, amid other things, that GMs have to get creative in making non-caster NPCs potent. A monster of magical resources can scry on people from anywhere, escape from almost any trap, and overwhelm most parties with a horde of artificial minions. The best a barbarian or warlord can do with class abilities alone, on the other hand, is face the heroes in traditional means of warfare, giving them a substantially smaller set of tools. As a result, a big bad without innate magic has to think outside the box in order to make himself a threat to heroes who are packing sorcerers or clerics on their side. If the villain wants any chance of success, he needs to get his hands on some resources that go beyond the normal weapons and armor; he needs to be playing for the long term.

So let's say that you as a Game Master have dreamed up a really interesting villain who we'll call Commander Randall Wilhelm. Wilhelm has a hatred for mages after a lich killed his family, and he has made it his duty to free his entire country of mages at any cost. Now, Wilhelm is a smart man, so he's not going to just send his troops at every mage in town and watch as his forces are blown to smithereens. Instead, you as a Game Master have to think of some tools that Wilhelm can use to make up for his lack of arcane potency. Fortunately, there are plenty, as the likes of Grand Admiral Thrawn and Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe can demonstrate. Use this tools well, and they just might be enough to tilt the playing field against the tyrannical mages who have ruled warfare for so long.

Other 'Sophisticated' Tech
This is the most obvious solution for a character who fights mages, but many GMs and players will feel that it is a cop-out. If Wilhelm wants some intelligence and firepower to rival a sorcerer's, he could turn to an old psion, vizier, or alchemist friend to get some supernatural abilities of his own. Psionics, Incarnum, and Alchemy aren't technically magic, but they can simulate many of magic's best abilities, creating even ground between Wilhelm and his foes in certain regards. If the game uses advanced technology like that found in the Technology Guide, maybe the villain can have exclusive access to certain tech like reactors and plasma weaponry that scares the wizards enough to make them keep their distance. This issue with these approaches, however, is that it may not equate to a "nonmagical" opponent, just one whose supernatural powers work differently from those of the opponents. If you want a martial villain, then this probably isn't the advice you are looking for. Nonetheless, it is the trick that usually works the best.

Magical Friends
Just because Wilhelm wants to purge his town of mages doesn't mean he can't take advantage of them once and a while. Maybe he can hire out the sagest of the sages to get some things done for him, using them to drive the mystical rabble out of his nation while at the same time putting them deep enough in his favor that they will simply leave once the cleanup is done. He might even bind a few outsiders to his side, harnessing a little extraplanar temp help. If you have the coin and the charisma, why not buy out the most dangerous threats so that they serve you? The could do divinations for him, buff his soldiers, craft his gear, and maybe even start up a few bouts of infighting between local magical groups. Once again, this may be a no-no based on your villains ethics; he may hate mages to the point where he won't even work with them, or reject the use of magic to win on account of pride or principle. If he can't swallow these for the sake of victory, then he will be playing with a significant handicap, but all hope is not lost. Maybe a turnabout could well happen.

Top-Tier Gear
What makes a high-level character powerful? A fair amount of strength can be attributed to class features, or abilities that innately scale with level (hit points, save bonuses, etc.). However, the oft-forgotten determining factor of power at high levels is the gear that you can get your hands on. Armed with enough staves, scrolls, and wands, practically any character can gain the abilities of a caster, and a majority of useful spell effects can be obtained in the form of wondrous items (crystal ball, anyone?). Maybe a force can render oncoming fireballs irrelevant once it stocks up on enough cloaks of fire resistance, or block off any chance of enchantments with mind blank cloaks on all the most important members. If Wilhelm wants to go all the way, he could invest in a few golems, or rig some crucial locations in his city with antimagic fields so that he can gank unsuspecting spellcasters. If he wants to really pull out the big guns, he could get his hands on a mage's disjuction weapon, blowing away the competition with the arcane EMP that makes every player tremble in their boots. Weapons change the face of war, and cracking open the Core Rulebook's chapter on magic items shows that Wilhelm has plenty of tools that can alter the combat dynamic.

A Trump Card
Just a warning that there is no middle ground on this trick; it will either make things seem very interesting or incredibly cheap. As I've mentioned before, every bad guy should have an ace up his sleeve, and the card in Wilhelm's chain shirt may well be something that renders magic a moot point to his forces. Maybe he's got his hands on a powerful artifact that negates magic or causes it to act funny, a piece of equipment that prevents any spellcaster from taking him head-on. Maybe this antimagic tool is not a trinket but rather a disease, an airborne pox or poisoned water source that negates the magical abilities of people who come into contact with it (Vemeraks have an ability that does exactly this. Maybe he could bargain with a few). Perhaps he has the blessing of some war god that safeguards him from all harm that isn't delivered via weapon, or keeps some sort of pet with him that just soaks up the spells for him. If these sound like cheap railroady solutions, they kind of are. The trick is giving them enough intrigue or astonishment to genuinely impress your players when they find themselves handicapped. If you are pulling this trick, it needs to be something built up, a technique or tool that the players can catch hints of and maybe find a way around before direct conflict begins. That way, it will come across as a unique and devious plan rather than a punishment by an unfair GM. Use this tactic sparingly, but make it count when you feel you should and it will most certainly count.

Okay, I'm done with all of the suggestions that still require some sort of supernatural ability. If you want to go really hardcore and take over a magical world using no magical means at all, then I would advise you get your hands on at least a few of the resources outlined below. I must warn you that they must be used very well in order to achieve success on their own, however, and run the risk of crumbling into worthlessness if mishandled. However, these tactics aren't exclusively for martial characters, and a villain of any sort can make use of the sensibilities documented below.

A Keen Intellect
The Corleone family is one of the most dangerous and powerful group of villains in all of fiction, and yet they lack any sort of unnatural capacity to be such. They don't have any superpowers, or inhuman capabilities, and their resources are most certainly rivaled or surpassed by at least one of their opponents. What put them on the top of the heat was their intellectual capital, their capacity to evaluate situations intelligently and come up with tactics that are best suited to the scenario. They can detect patterns, predict how foes are going to respond, and take the necessary precautions (sometimes) to ensure that their business remains successful. Just like a great chess player can turn the tide of match by playing smart with scarce resources, so too can Wilhelm out-think opponents that he cannot outgun. A smart villain can fight with tenacity and strategy against tough opposition, utilizing tactics and deception to root out holes in the opponent's plans. Figuring out what resources the opponent is dependent on (sleep, for example) and cutting them off (maybe by blaring loud noises the entire night) can give a villain the edge that they lack in direct conflict. Sneak attacks, moles, hostages, false pretenses of surrender, and plenty of other tricks can be employed to throw a wrench in the opposition, enabling you to obtain whatever you need from them. In asymmetrical warfare, playing smart can beat playing hard a substantial percentage of the time.

Mountains o' Money
Money may not buy love, and it may not buy happiness, but it sure can buy fortresses, favors, weapons, and whatever else you may need to put your plans into effect. If a bad guy has a fat wallet, it will be very hard to stay outside of his reach. Even without magical aid, a rich villain has plenty of options in any given situation; he could hire every mercenary on the continent, create elaborate shells and diversions to protect his real identity, or even just bribe people into doing whatever he wants. It wouldn't be impossible for Wilhelm to fabricate some easy and lucrative quest to lure the heroes out of town while he takes over, or put some opponents on his payroll to ensure they don't cause any more trouble. When you are rich, you can do anything, and this goes double for the feudal governments that most Pathfinder games take place in. Who cares if your plans go south when you have the tools to try again? So what if your entire city gets burned to the ground when you can rebuild it with minimal dent to your coffers? A final villain can be a 5th-level aristocrat hiding behind his wallet because wealth is just that powerful. Money makes the world go around, even if that world is a fantasy one.

Well-Placed Connections
"Knowing is half the battle" has practically become a mantra on this blog, but it remains true as ever. If the character has a leg-up on information networks and the position to collect and capitalize upon intel, then he can be one of the most dangerous people in the setting regardless of his class abilities. If he has a friend who can feed him all of his opponent's plans, then he only needs to counter one set of tactics (infinitely easier than accounting for every situation). Similarly, if he knows exactly what spells, weapons, and strategies the PCs prefer to solve problems with, he can build up countermeasures or even sabotage them with a well-placed double agent. Heck, cut off supply lines and tinker with the item markets, seeing how well the opposition does when they can't get the metal to build new swords. Similarly, if you have access to the ears of a noble, the right suggestions can change the course of entire nations. Titles, money, resources, or just general likability are all tools that can be utilized to weave a massive web for a character, enabling them to tug on a string anywhere and get what they want.

A Solid Disguise
As crazy good as scrying and commune are, they both have one fatal flaw: you have to know what you are looking for. Connections that you don't see and shadows that you never acknowledge could be pulling the strings on a million different events that seem unrelated, and by the time that the players learn to ask the right questions their grips will be too firmly locked. This premise is the basis for all conspiracy fiction, and the paranoia that people have about "world orders" and "total control" shows that one doesn't even need magic to be a meglomaniacal organization capable of keeping dissenters up at night. The beggars on the street, the guards outside the castle, and the peddlers of cheap rope at the market could all be connected and ready to strike, but you won't even bother to ask about them until a barmaid decapitates you in the middle of the night and burns your buddy's spellbook while right after. When the heroes start seeing bad guys in every shadow and suspecting that every NPC could be out to get them, you have hit them with an enchantment that surpasses anything that magic could ever accomplish. If you play your cards right and leave enough red herrings, your evil plan could be 100% invisible.

Good Publicity
So let's say that you are a master assassin who wants to off a well-respected leader so that you can go through with some devious plan. All the cards are played right, you get in and out without trouble, and not a soul alive knows how the president was just taken down. Even if you do everything right, there is one obstacle that just became much harder to surpass: people liked the guy, and are going to be really pissed off that he's now rotting in his grave. A good portion probably won't care about "the greater good" or whatever "dastardly plot" the guy was working on in life; once they figure out who was responsible for his death they will hunt his killers to the end of the earth. In life, this principal applies to an even greater degree; a popular figure can simply announce his endorsement or distaste for something and thousands of otherwise neutral individuals will flock behind him to make sure that what he wants is put into play. If that means the persecution of a specific minority or the takedown of a specific person or organization, history has thousands of examples of situations where this has worked. Remember that the average NPC has average human intelligence, and they probably will get some fires going when they realize that the funny-looking dudes in the tavern are plotting to murder the lord who has kept out the orcs for the last decade. When people like you, getting them to support you in times of trouble becomes quite a bit easier. When the folks you offed were actually trying to help them, they fight even harder.

Obscene Numbers
If none of these other tricks float your boat, one remains: copious, copious hordes of creatures. A force the size of a nation is very difficult for a group of PCs to completely defeat, even if they have all the right connections and all the magical gear in the world. Be it a military force with more soldiers than most nations have people, a spy network that encompasses the globe, a tribe of barbarians who practically ooze from every glade, or a cult that grows so rapidly that it any headway the heroes make is irrelevant, a manpower advantage great enough can make it difficult for any power to be taken down. A caster only has so many spells per day, and even if they teleport the heck out of there, then thousand swords carried by ten thousand unhappy people may be enough to dissuade them from trying to come back. Similarly, recruitment tactics can make plenty of headway in a cause, encouraging large numbers of people to join your side simply because of how many folks you already have on the bandwagon. If a few people protest, the sheer numbers may be used to quell them. If they fight, the immensity of your hordes can trample them. There's a reason Sauron invested so many resources into building an army of orcs, as well as why every film shows a tracking shot of a huge legion when they want to show you that the baddies mean business: when your ranks are so swollen that your average barrack is packed like a clown car, not much is going to stand in your way.

From Baddie to Badass: How to make your Villain More of a Menace, part 3

These final four points are probably the most important that I can make about a villain, and I am referring not only to tabletop villains but to all antagonists when I present the three theses listed below. When a GM is creating a bad guy to use in their campaign, these three things are simply not questionable; they make the difference between a random encounter and a foe worth taking down. Should a writer fail in the pursuit of any of these concepts, the result will be a subpar villain, one that will wind up being mocked by the players rather than feared, and one that will likely go down in a cheap way rather than dying slowly and climatically in a grand finale.

Now the theatrics are over with. Let's get down to the big four traits.

10. Be Effectual
The quickest path to world domination is just like the quickest path anywhere else: it is a straight line. When you have big plans in mind that you have already committed a whole lot of time and manpower towards, you should be trimming down the necessities of your plan to what is absolutely essential, keeping everything under control and ensuring that no time is wasted in accomplishing whatever you need accomplished. When faced with a problem, pride shouldn't factor into the methods of war unless you are absolutely assured of victory; if you see an opening, seize it as quickly and as effectively as possible. Getting the job done with minimal hassle should come before any sort of honor code or personal vendetta (these things can work, but it is important that a good villain keeps them in perspective). By the same virtue, don't waste time and money on minions or fortifications that are going to be worthless to you. Invest in blindsense-packing monsters if you are up against a stealthy opponent, or dimensional locks if they like to try and teleport into your private space. Heck, don't give the good guys an opportunity to stop you at all, just cut straight to the chase and put your master plan into effect with minimum possible delay. On the topic of those master plans, any good villain should compose one that is concise, to the point, and has as few variables as possible. While something absurdly byzantine and convoluted can be fun for confusing the PCs for a while, it almost never works, and something that winds up a hair out of line can throw a wrench in the scheme and leave your whole evil endeavor pointless. Any good large-scale bad guy has plenty of resources at his disposal, and if he had the brains to get them in the first place, he should have the brains to utilize them to their full potential. That means not spending gratuitous amounts of money on low-level minions when a few strong ones can do the job better, and not investing tens of thousands of gold pieces into a doomsday machine when some well-placed spells can wreak more destruction and panic at a fraction of the price (I mean, think about the infrastructure you could ruin with a single well-placed stone to mud spell, or the casualties you could cause by poisoning the right water source). Why would you spend years trying to sway thousands of citizens to your side when you could simply puppet an existing leader and obtain whatever you need in the nation? Why build an army when one or two well-placed assassinations will accomplish what you want in a much more subtle manner? Why go to all the trouble of tracking a person down with men when you would far more successful with a simple scrying? Why involve more than the bare necessity of people in a plot that you are gambling your life on? Why put a crazy plot into action at all without spending a few hours thinking "how can I iron out the kinks here?" The point I am trying to make here is that Occam's razor is the deadliest weapon the titanic nasty can have in his arsenal. Every villain is on some level an engineer of sorts, and no self-respecting engineer puts his work out in the field without asking "what can I do to use my resources a little bit better?" If an antagonist is going to have any shot at getting what they want, those 12 words need to be echoing in their head at least once every hour. Elsewise, your dastardly scheme becomes haphazard and unnecessarily complex, and your ambition will be doomed to the dark pit where the most pathetic comic book villains rot away.

11. Be Purposeful
Evil is a hefty undertaking; one doesn't just wake up one morning and decide that he's going to massacre a town or two and open a portal that will bring an ancient dark one into the world. It takes time, resources, and a whole lot of effort to be a good villain, so the important question that you have to ask yourself is "why in the nine hells am I doing this?" What does the villain have to gain from brutality and treachery, and what can he do with it that couldn't get done with a simple kind asking? Before a villain commits to the dark side, they should have something happen to them that gives them some conviction in it. Maybe they saw that Good isn't as good as it sets out to be, or that the only path to providence or survival is paved with butchery and deceit. Maybe they just want something and feel that negotiating for it is below them. Heck, maybe they dedicate themselves to ruining the heroes because of something the heroes did to screw them over (nobody said that the best villains always start the campaign as villains). As alluring as evil may seem, nobody wants to be evil just for the sake of being evil. Cruelty has its purpose and its intent, and those are both things that any villain the PCs interact with should formulate before going to war. Every blackguard has his justification, every tyrant his excuse, and every madman his logic. Remember this or else your campaign will crumple like tissue paper. He who stands for nothing falls for everything, so if you need to hesitate and ask yourself why the man with the spear is okay with skewering the feisty rogue on cold steel, something is in urgent need of fixing. By the same token, there should be no such thing as a random encounter, or a faceless mook who is intended as nothing but padding for the adventure. Nothing exists without an origin, and that holds especially true for villains. If the PCs run up against a bad guy who is there just to slow them down, its worthlessness will be obvious, as will your lack of preparation. Every moment spent in an encounter should be ratcheting up the tension, building up to the intentions and abilities of the big bad or dropping information about the setting and people within it. Random events that lead nowhere are a hallmark of bad storytelling in film and literature, and the same standard should apply for games. Combat encounters are a big investment of time, so make sure that time spent rolling dice is also time spent continuing the story. Where random encounters might bog down the game, either skip over them or turn them into a meeting with some meaningful contemporaries (even stone golems have a reason for being in the dungeon. They aren't exactly natural landmarks). The bottom line is that everyone that is out doing bad things needs a Raison d'etre, a reason for their existence in the campaign and an explanation for why their acts of debauchery and aberration are the right thing for the world.

12. Be Unique
While I'm throwing around french phrases, I should mention that a generic monster is always worse than a villain a la mode. What I mean by that is that each bad guy should have something that sets him or her apart from the pack, a trait, motive, or ability that makes them a unique individual in a world full of wizards, fighters, and bard/oracle mystic theurges (you weren't the first person to think of a combination like that, so stop pretending that it's all you need to make your character one of a kind). The best kinds of villains are the ones that you are afraid of because you have never seen it before, the type of bad guy who you can't really guess how to fight or talk down because you've never seen their motives or tactics before and you are running blind against. On top of this, an original motivation and skillset has the side effect of making your campaign much more interesting, as players will be up against something they have never seen before and will typically want to see what they are up against. The players' engagement will rise as they are forced to question everything, pondering if the doorknob they use could be poisoned or the fruit cart could in fact be a giant obese land-dwelling octopus minion in disguise. As with in the mystery entry, what players don't know is what makes them want to explore. Unfortunately, originality is something that is difficult to pull off, and attempts to force it are usually quite obvious and result in ideas that don't often make too much sense. As a result, I cannot give too much good advice on how to be original, since the very basis of it is that nobody else has come up with what you are about to try. The best information I can bestow upon ye is to take a look at sources that your players wouldn't typically know about, so that your inspirations are so obscure that your players won't know what to think when you start mixing and matching themes from them. Crack open some obscure religious texts and start grabbing monsters and storylines from there, or check out some unusual art, poetry, writing, or movies that your players are not likely familiar with (if any of you try a dadaist campaign, please let me know how it goes. I would love to hear about it). Take on some philosophical ideas and entities that aren't really represented in most mythologies, and see how your players respond to such out-there concepts. Heck, just use some strange monsters from later bestiaries or adventure modules if you want to go nuts with some encounters, or come up with alternative uses of existing abilities that force players to play in a way they had never anticipated (a pyromancer in a munitions factory would get nasty real quick). Templates also deserve special mention, as they can change how a monster functions immensely while keeping the bookkeeping to a relative minimum. Finally, refluffing is a great way for a GM to give a players and experience they've never had before without struggling with the rules. Simply change the word "sword" to "barbed-wire-coated shovel" or "displacer beast" to "spectral cthonian" and the situation ratchets up memorability by a major margin. Uniqueness can come from simple changes, not rewriting the book entirely but punching things up enough to make it your own.

13. BE RATIONAL
I cannot stress this enough, because it is just so essential to making a good antagonist that the plot completely falls apart if this tenant is not met. Whatever your villain is doing, regardless of whether or not it is original or mysterious or lethal, it absolutely must make sense. The path to evil should be an understandable one, with the baddie being able to justify why he is doing things that others will most likely hate him for. If a villain is expected to be a threat, he shouldn't just be someone that the PCs can simply talk or bribe out of his ways. As much as such a solution may break suspension of disbelief, it is one that you must prepare for when cooperatively telling a story with sapient beings. If this evil genius is even close to the intellect that his 20+ mental ability scores indicate, he should be able to defend his position or else not do reckless evil things in the first place. If he is intelligent, he should be able to figure out some sort of tactic that enables him to get what he wants with minimal risk of skin or reputation If he is wise, he should be able to pick up any quandaries or fallacies in his logic and be able to correct them. If he is charismatic, he should be able to convince others that what he is doing is the right thing to do. If he is none of these things, he should at least have the self-preservation instinct not to do something boneheaded and pointless when it results in a whole lot of bad karma. Every creature with at least baseline mental faculties should be able to explain why they do what they do, perhaps convincing others to do they same as they vocalize their concerns. Petty revenge, spite, or "the thrill of it" are not full justifications for mass-killing years-long plots in the real world, so they shouldn't be adequate in a fantasy world either. Nobody sees themself as a villain no matter how radical or vindictive they are, and "villainy for the luls" is the most brutal detractor from immersion that I've ever seen a GM throw out. Every character, good or bad, should have a philosophy that guides their life and makes their actions seem worthwhile, even if it is as alien or absurd as "the rest of humanity is best suited to exploitation in my interest". Not all antagonist logic needs to be in the human scope (just look at Lovecraft), but it should at least be logic that can be followed. Even the most chaotic evil of demons can make sense of why debauchery is the best use of existence for a creature like itself, as easily as an angel is able to explain why it lives to protect others. No creature exists in a setting with no idea of what it should or shouldn't do, and those expectations of good and bad should be raised and challenged every time the players and villains come into conflict, with questions emerging on both sides as to what they are fighting for and why they are fighting for it. Villains exist in stories to create this conflict, the challenge the audiences conceptions of what is good or useful and to make them wonder why two differing aspects are driven into conflict. When the players beat the villain or vice versa, it should be an instance of a virtue trumping a vice, a clash of ideas that engages participants on a level deeper than "is he dead yet?" Designing adventures is an art, after all, and you wouldn't want an art piece you spend dozens of hours creating to dissipate without a thesis, wouldn't you?

Thanks for reading everyone. This has been one heck of a time typing.

From Baddie to Badass: How to make your Villain More of a Menace, part 2

So, Starting where we left off last time...

5. Be Creative
Fun fact: all that stuff in additional rulebooks and on the SRD isn't just for players. A GM is allowed to use stranger content just as much as a player is, so never should a villain be compelled to stick with the predictable. Regular skeletons not scary anymore? Animate some Crypt Things, Berbalangs, and Pharaonic Guardians and see how the heroes deal with them. Fireballs starting to lose their gusto? That's what Ice Spears and Ball Lightning are for (throw on dazing spell for extra danger). Party already prepared for anything a sorcerer or barbarian could throw at them? Surprise them with a killer alchemist, mesmerist, or vitalist who forces them to rewrite their tactics from scratch.  Heck, most monsters can easily be tweaked to be made more menacing or to pull of radically unpredictable tricks; A few switched feats or properly applied templates can go quite a ways from turning a ho-hum monster into a deadly threat (have the powerful wizard train his giant soldiers to fight with reach weapons and utilize tripping. The results go a long way). If the PCs figure out the trick, have the big bad hit the books and pull out a few new weapons to win the day with. Anything that the PCs can use exists in the world, so there is no reason that the villains shouldn't be using the best feats and spells that your bard cribbed from an obscure sourcebook. Not only does this unpredictability factor make the villain more dangerous, it also keeps them interesting, because the heroes get to see a lot of things at work that they never would have come up with or prepared for.
This doesn't just apply to game statistics, but to actions as well. As I mentioned before, doing something unexpected and unprepared for can give the bad guy a huge head start in the strategy department, so the villain shouldn't just be resorting to conventional military tactics to get his way. This is a fantasy game, and fantasy games rewrite the rules of war all the time. If you figure out some way to bypass the city walls with an unusual spell usage or to move your forces in ways no real-world tactician would anticipate, then invoking your wild card is the perfect course to the situation. Hannibal didn't nearly take Rome by using conventional tactics, and Scipio didn't beat him with the regular playbook either. Effective command requires innovation, and innovation shouldn't be too hard for an evil genius to figure out.

6. Be Inspiring
In the words of Alan Moore's classic madman, "Ideas are bulletproof". You can kill a leader and burn down everything he stood for, but his cause will most certainly live on so long as others share in his plight. Loyal disciples, more than any phylactery or clone spell, are the ultimate backup plan, the assurance that your mission will continue long beyond your demise. Sauron failed because he made his entire plot dependent on himself, and the same principle applies to the Emperor. V, however, knew that the best way to keep a revolution going is to recruit people to your cause, showing them why they should take up arms to fight for you and thus starting a pyramid scheme of bloody revolution. By the time that you bite the dust, thousands of souls will be ready to take up your mantle and keep the dream alive. In the context of the villain, this means that a plot to take over the world is doomed from the start if it is obviously beneficial to only the big bad. Rather, a proper villain creates a philosophy, a set of ideals that he can convince people to place themselves behind. They write and orate, explaining to the world why it is flawed and why their evil plan must be put in place for the good of the world. Rather than needlessly butchering their followers, they treat them, ensuring that it is in their best interest to keep serving the dark side. Rather than killing their enemies, they recruit them, adding more and more firepower to the cause. Rather than fostering hatred, the best bad guys are widely liked by their followers, creating a sympathetic or inspirational position that stirs the ranks to greater loyalty. Rather than taking the heroes on alone, the villain brings some friends to the slaughter-fest, giving him the upper hand while also ensuring that his posterity idolizes him in death. That way, the heroes are tasked with defeating not a figure but a symbol, a symbol which will unify the legions in the face of crisis rather than dissuading them. That symbol may have a thousand faces and personalities before it eventually dies out, but so long as it maintains an agenda and a following it cannot truly be defeated. In time, this symbol may even become immortal. Now, imagine how pathetic the PCs will seem as they try again and again to put down the evil cult only to find it rebuilding with a new patron. Likability is the oldest tool in the handbook of Tyrants, and no evil cause is truly capable of surviving without it. With the right words, however, a villain can ensure a legacy that will overwhelm the air with bloody screams for centuries to come.

7. Be Intimidating
On the other side of the coin, a good villain should be as feared by his opponents as he is loved by his underlings. Heroes should be afraid to take this guy on, constantly questioning how badly the big bad is capable of kicking their collective posterior. In my game, the most memorable and dangerous villains were the ones that were built up slowly, never accessible but at the same time always sort of present. When the PCs attempted to gather information on the gal, most of it was cobbled together from enemies who were burnt to a crisp (assuming the records weren't ash as well). Every NPC that the heroes sent to scout was either eliminated or sent back as a stir fry of mutilated body parts. If someone asks what this person and her forces are capable of, all one of the players needs to do is point to the country she turned into a wasteland. When a particularly hard-headed character wanted to try and take her prematurely, the intelligent members of the party quickly got in the way and told him that moving against her was a death sentence; they had seen what she had done to some of their comrades, and they could easily discern what could happen if things went south. All of this was done without the GM intervention, as it should be. If heroes want to know how big a threat is, the setting should display it, with knowledgeable NPCs getting the hell out of dodge whenever the big bad comes a-calling. Their name should be dropped somewhere at least once a session, and the threat of them swiftly and effectively obliterating the PCs should be lingering every time that the heroes march in to fight them off. An effective villain should have a reputation for power and danger, keeping opponents down just by mentioning that they could step out and reduce them to a stain on the pavement should they fail to play along. You don't need a single rank in intimidate to strike fear into the hearts of your enemies, you just need to display the consequences of opposition. Rumors of your wrath have a larger area-of-effect than any spell you can muster, and may be just as effective in ending a fight. As the PCs get stronger, they should dread fighting the big bad more than they look forward to it. If the villain is not scary, they become irrelevant, and I'm sure that no GM wants that to happen. Meanwhile, if everybody knows what Baron von Badguy did to that one heavily-guarded city that didn't pay taxes, you can bet that they will pay their dues. If you want to make sure that your villain becomes the stuff of legend and not the stuff of jokes, let everyone know what he can do and why he is worthy of being a villain. Force the heroes to sleep with one eye open for fear of this bastard finally coming to take them down. One of the best ways to do this is to...

8. Be Mysterious
You know that big bad that I've been talking about all last paragraph? The players haven't even figured out her level, much less her build. All they know is that she is a wizard who can cast some high-level spells and that she has an appetite for destruction. Beyond that, their minds fill in the rest, and whatever they came up with was certainly enough to make them turn tail and run when she force-punched through their front door. This is a lesson picked up from the Xenomorph in Alien, the White Walkers, Maleficent, half a dozen Worm villains, and Kenny Loggins: You never count your money (or resources, or soldiers, or spell slots) when you're sitting at the table. If people never see you sweat when your 40th legion gets mown down, they assume that you have about 500 more, most of which they will not stick around to fight off. Bypass all the defenses with a time stop spell, and people won't assume its a scroll you spent half your WBL on, they'll think that it was the real thing and they will huddle in the corner when they think that a 17th-level wizard has stepped into town to ruin their day. Smart players tend to assume the worst, and that is certainly something you can leverage. That way, the party will be quaking in their magic boots when it comes time to deliver justice. My favorite way to handle this sort of enigma while still giving the villain an active role is by handing out resources to their minions. Have the lieutenants and underlings come at the heroes with high-end gear, information, and maybe some high-level buff spells thrown on for good measure. I can tell you that nothing makes a 4th-level character flee the field with breeches full of chocolate faster than realizing that the ogre they are up against somehow got stoneskin and extended haste cast on him before he rushed them. When extreme minions are not needed, have the villain act through proxy, utilizing summons or long-range attacks while keeping himself out of the fight. If the heroes ever see the villain, they will dogpile them, so it is best never to let that happen. If a public display is inevitable, some illusions and maybe a body double or two can get the job done in a pinch. The number one rule, however, is that the heroes should never be able to figure out everything that the villain, be they mage, warlord, or assassin, is capable of doing to thwart them. Caution makes any game more engaging and more interesting, and that is exactly what a little bit of properly placed mystery can bring to the table. What the PCs don't know is what is most likely to kill them.

9. Be Tenacious
The number one piece of advice I can give to any GM is that things are assured not to go as planned when you put your adventure into action. Plot hooks can be ignored, NPCs can be ganked, and unexplored paths can be forced open. When these things happen and your villain's epic plot gets thwarted by a genre-savvy player not falling for a simple trap or a particularly lucky character sabotaging a crucial part of the master plan, the big bad should have at least one trick in their back pocket to deploy when things go south. Did that priestess you were going to kidnap and sacrifice get murdered prematurely? Either save up some cash for a resurrection spell or find some other heir who can do the trick just as well (it's a big world, so there has to be one). Did the PCs escape your clutches and kill a bunch of your best men? Bide your time and take revenge when they least expect it, or maybe take advantage of the fact that they have family members you can take out (that psychic warrior can take hits, but I'm guessing that sort of durability isn't really shared by his 6-year-old daughter). When you set out to take over the world, you should have at least five different methods of accomplishing your goal, otherwise you're effectively beaten before you even begin. Villains exist in most stories to be thwarted by the heroes, so you should count on every sort of opposition that could come your way smacking you right in the face. If you wind up flat on the ground, you should be able to get back up with yet another plan, accounting for what you did wrong the first time and making sure that your next plan won't fail for the same reasons. Remember that the best leaders and soldiers of history took plenty of losses, and the best villains will as well. What matters is not that your first attempt is successful, but that you are able to roll with the punches and get back up every time some adventurer sticks his sword in your business. Eventually, you'll be able to figure out something that the heroes don't have a countermeasure for, and that's the point where they are getting shoved out of the picture for good. The best part about doing this in a fantasy world? You have all the time in the universe to plot your comeback, either from the comfort of your phylactery/personal demiplane or from the big fire below. A good villain will never be truly defeated, just delayed until he gets things right. In the words of Thomas Edison, "When you have exhausted all possibilities, remember this: you haven't." There is always another path to getting what you want, be it revenge, power, or glory for your nation or god. Never stop fighting and always plan for what could go wrong, so that you can ensure that failure in a certain regard will do nothing to stop you from succeeding in the long term.

From Baddie to Badass: How to make your Villain More of a Menace, part 1

When you are a GM, there is always one thing that you are pressured to get right: the Villain. Be he an evil wizard, megalomaniac warlord, shadowy serial killer, or horrific entity from the great beyond, the PCs always expect their main opponent to be dangerous, unique, and most of all memorable. In spite of this, I frequently wind up playing or engaging in games where the villain becomes little more than a petty annoyance, a bump in the road that plays a background role to the heroes' antics.

Now, while this can work in more protagonist-focused adventures or stories, those are not usually the types of games that GMs and adventure path writers usually set out to create. Beyond the PCs, a larger story is usually taking place, and as this is an adventure game that story will very likely involve some sort of villain that the heroes will foil and be foiled by. Unfortunately, GMs who assume too much often wind up in scenarios where much more of the former is going on than the latter, and the immersion into the story and its characters starts to strain as the PCs feel that there is nobody interesting or powerful enough to test their might against.

Fortunately, many of the most common issues of insufficient villainy can be remedied if you remember a few simple rules. Although not all of these need to be implemented and some may not fit all villains, the suggestions listed below can go a long way from turning a generic baddie of the week into a legendary monster that your players will be reflecting on for years to come. Likewise, it isn't a necessity that every minion or random encounter be fleshed out in these ways, but when it comes time to face the big bad that you've built up for the last dozen sessions, carrying out at least some of these steps will have a tremendous payoff.

Without further ado, let's get right into the nitty-gritty that separates the Schmoes from the Saurons.

1. Be Knowledgeable
In the words of G.I. Joe, knowing is half the battle. If a person is going to pose a legitimate threat to a state, nation, or people, they need to have some idea of how they are going to succeed. Now, beyond the "evil plan" by which the villain is going to force his will upon the world, a successful tyrant should do a little bit of research on how to best achieve his goals. If he wants to take a city, he should figure out how the city prefers to fight and upend this (for example, fighting a war of attrition when the opponent's firepower is too great, or using stealth and guerrilla tactics when the city would rather deploy their huge army in open warfare). If the hero recognizes the PCs as a notable threat, they should get some info on them, maybe listening to accounts of how the heroes fight and organizing their forces accordingly (let's see how well the gunslinger steamrolls encounters once the bad guys learn of his limited range, or how deadly the wizard's fireballs are once the evil emperor invests in a few golems). Information can change the tide of a battle, and a big bad who knows what he's doing is far more of a threat than a nutball who only uses one or two strategies. This concept is especially applicable to casters, who usually have access to divination spells and can use them to figure out exactly what they are up against. A well-placed Scrying or day spent at the library can give the villain plenty of tools to work with, thus increasing his odds of success astronomically.

2. Be Proactive
Picture this: the fate of the world is in balance, the doomsday device is almost ready, the villain's evil plan is almost complete...and the heroes don't feel any sense of urgency whatsoever. After all, it's not like the big bad would really try to do anything before the big climactic encounter can get rolling. This sort of storytelling slaughters any sort of tension that has been built up, turning the potentially catastrophic master plan into an annoyance that can be put off as easily as the laundry. Not only is this trope a total mood-killer, it is also unrealistic. Regardless of whether or not they are actively being foiled, any sensible bad guy is going to keep his momentum going, cinematic value be darned. If the PCs take a day off to shop for magic items, put the villain one day closer to the completion of their master plan. If he seizes the initiative and obliterates the heroes in their sleep, it will have been the PCs' fault for not respecting the gravity of the situation. Real generals don't stop because their enemies want to take a siesta; if anything, they will spring at the chance to catch the enemy flat-footed. When the PCs actually get a sense that the clock is ticking, you can bet that they will get their priorities straight and save the world. Carpe Diem takes on a whole new meaning when the heroes can be trounced in a single night for taking too long.

3. Be Lethal
Saturday Morning Cartoon Villains, Bond Villains, and unsatisfying RPG Villains typically have one thing in common: they take too long to deliver the killing blow and as a result get royally screwed over for their negligence. If you want a bad guy who is a cut above the rest, the quickest and easiest way to show this is by killing his enemies rather than taking them hostage. Now, it may make sense for a few people to be kept alive for ritual purposes, but if they don't have anything that can't be obtained with a simple Speak with Dead spell, there is no reason that any intrepid heroes should be left intact. Don't gloat over the protagonists, don't give them a sporting chance, and don't take prisoners unless absolutely necessary. If you are going to do any of these things, at least be sensible about it and strip those defiant little idiots of their weapons, armor, and spellbooks beforehand. Every step of the way, make the heroes fight to survive, because very little can cramp somebody's style faster than watching their best friend get eviscerated for being a tad too careless. If the heroes learn just how far the bad guy is willing to go to get what they want, the threat level and hence interest level suddenly shoot through the roof.

4. Be Unpredictable
So let's say that the heroes have their hands on some sort of MacGuffin that the Mighty Evil Emperor needs for his Mighty Evil Plan. Suspecting that he will try to take it by force, the heroes head to the most fortified location on the continent and pray to their respective gods that the walls are strong enough to hold an invading army off. A foolish villain would do exactly what the PCs are expecting, expending copious resources trying to break in and take the doodad the old-fashioned way. On the other hand, any commander worth his salt would consider that the PCs have likely invested substantial resources in pushing off a forward assault, and so rather than wasting his time on that will instead slip a few talents to some mages or spies. Suddenly the Helm's Deep encounter becomes a frantic game of cat and mouse as elite agents are smuggled inside the battlements to take the unsuspecting protagonists out in close quarters, taking what their master needs with minimal hassle. This form of lateral thinking is the kind that wins wars, and it's the kind of approach that villains should take if you want them to be considered a threat. There is always another way to get what you want, and an effective villain should have a toolkit diverse enough to keep the heroes guessing. If one base is covered, hit another, and then go for a third way once the second becomes obsolete. If the heroes know exactly what you're going to do before you do it, the sense of danger drops by a fair margin. New weapons, new soldiers, and new strategies should be regularly employed to gain the upper hand, forcing the opposition to either adapt or perish. After all, nobody has ever won a fight by doing exactly what their opponent expects.

Shuffling this Mortal Coil: How to Handle Death for Players and Baddies

In my most recent game, the players found themselves up against an invading force that they couldn't take alone. An invading army had been collecting intel on them over the course of several encounters, and had decided to make an all-out assault against the heroes in the hopes of taking over the city. The PCs, well aware that the big bad had been reading them and developing countermeasures to everything they could do, decided that it was best that they cut and run for now, doing what they could to evacuate the civilians before the evil overlord broke the barricades and seized the city by force. In a move worthy of an epic fantasy hero, our warlord stood up and announced that he would stay behind in order to ensure that as many people escape as possible, knowing full well that he had a good chance of being killed in the ensuing invasion.

This statement freaked the other players out, primarily because the warlord had been one of the most important characters to the storyline. There had been a few instances of characters being killed off earlier on, but those were minor characters who didn't have much backstory or interaction. The warlord had been the one to bring the party together in the first place, had been the face of the party in most social situations, and had the most comprehensive ambitions and motivations of anyone in the party. The player had roleplayed this character immensely, always contributing with everything f from battle tactics to one-liners to life advice for the other characters. The entire party had fallen in love with this character, and whether or not he lived to see another session would change the course of the game immensely. One last thing: This is an E7 game, so resurrection isn't an option here. If Grimheln the wisecracking, elf-hating, civilian-rescuing warlord goes down here, he ain't coming back any time soon. With the dire encounter swiftly approaching, I as a GM am genuinely worried about whether or not I should offer an easy way out or just allow this amazing character to go down in a blaze of glory.

Death is as much a part of D&D as rolling dice and leveling up; every session is likely to involve at least one creature being killed for some reason or another. However, the way it is handled can vary greatly from world to world and even from party to party. Some may have death be as reversible as a paper cut, whereas others may treat shuffling off the mortal coil as something that is 100% irreversible. Now, I don't think that there is any inherent value in allowing or disallowing resurrection (I've seen both kinds of worlds work effectively), but there are several things to consider when implementing it or barring it from the table.

The first question of dying and coming back is the frequency and strictness of it. How easy is it for the players to get their buddy back from heaven, and is it the same way for other denizens of the fantasy world? If the ranger gets eviscerated while on patrol, can the other heroes get him back by grabbing the body? Heck, do they even need the body to bring him back to the Material Plane? By the same token, could some particularly loyal monsters take their fallen master and give him a second chance at world domination? How deep do somebody's pockets need to be in order to master death itself, and what happens to a society that sees death as nothing more than a financial setback? If the ranger is capable of popping back up within a session, you can guess that the same principle will apply to the king whose murder was supposed to start an intrigue campaign or the meglomaniacal tyrant who the PCs assumed had been dealt with when they mounted his head on a stake. When the players can get resurrected easily, that means that any similarly-wealthy and powerful NPCs can as well, which may ruin a plotline or adventure altogether. Likewise, heroes staying dead means that villains stay dead too, so continually rezzing a favorite villain every time he gets axed is not going to slide well with a party who can't get their old buds back.

The second question is more attuned to the needs and desires of the players. How much do they appreciate their individual characters, and how would they respond if some happenstance were to off them? I can recall several campaigns in which people didn't much care about who or what they were playing, and who were okay with their character dying so that they could try some new class or build. On the flip side, I've played in games where people were utterly devastated by a random crit killing their character, to the point where that session broke up the group. As a GM, it is important to read the way players are treating their characters and from this information get a picture of whether or not a George R.R. Martin-style death trap would inject a cool sense of urgency or frustrate at least one player to the point where they no longer enjoy the game. If somebody cares a lot about the story that their character is wrapped up in, then they will probably want to get their character back rather than starting over as somebody new. On the flipside, the player who isn't too invested in the plotline may jump at the chance of a blank slate. As much as it can be fun to drive players crazy from time to time, a GM is obligated to make sure his party is having fun, so the expectations of resurrection in a game should be tailored somewhat to how the people want to play it.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, how much do the NPCs and Baddies of the world fear death? It's quite common in many games for monsters to fight to the death, which would be pretty unrealistic if they don't expect any hope of being brought back. When it's clear that victory isn't really in the cards, losing armies typically live to fight another day rather than dying hopelessly on the battlefield. Intelligent monsters should do the same, taking out heroes when advantageous but stepping out when things aren't looking too hot for them. If somebody goes into combat knowing that he can be resurrected, however, this premise is inverted. It isn't too hard to find an example of soldiers going on suicide missions confident that they will be welcomed into the afterlife for their bravery, and while that premise can certainly be used in plenty of scenarios, readily accessible resurrection magic adds a whole new dimension to this premise. If a soldier knows that his boss is capable of resurrection magic, it creates a mindset where he has nothing to lose and as a result will go to extreme measures to serve his cause. He is all but guaranteed to see his wife and kids again, so if he has to fight to the death in order to ensure victory he will most certainly do it. When death is a minor setback, people will be much more willing to suffer through it, resulting in a culture that substantially changes how a society approaches conflict, danger, and mortality.

Finally, the last question pertains to the philosophical consequences of reanimation magic. What sort of writings exist in a setting where a substantial number of people have been to heaven or hell and returned to talk about it? Likewise, how do people view the gods and elements when what is most precious to them can't really be permanently taken away? How has society evolved differently, and what sort of special attention do clerics get or not get when they are the ones dispensing extra lives? Heck, is rezzing even allowed by all societies, or by all gods? What is the ethical split between bringing someone back with a new living body and bringing them back as an undead?

Answers to these questions are chiefly subject to the needs of the story, players, and campaign, but the considerations I posed should be accounted for whenever a GM runs into a consequential death. The one concrete rule is that resurrection should be above all consistent. If the players can use it, so can the bad guys and vice versa. If resurrection privilege is unfairly distributed, you can be that either player relations or suspension of disbelief will wind up being strained. The questions of life and death should be weighty and personal, but they should still be bound by rules. After all, what is Pathfinder if not imagination put to order?

The Fault with Fighters, or why character versatility is important in an immersive setting

I have been a player of Pathfinder since my freshman year in high school, and I have been GMing the game for very nearly as long. I've played with a wide variety of players, encountered a wide variety of adventure types, and designed monsters and adventures which and as a result I can with nominal confidence state that I understand the way Pathfinder works. I know what abilities are useful, I know how encounters both violent and nonviolent should be run, and I know how both PCs and monsters can operate to the peak of their abilities.

Naturally, I end up in conflict with many other players about what is considered good encounter design and enemy usage, especially when it comes to players using classes that innately lack versatility in dealing with situations. The most notable of these is the Fighter.

The premise of the fighter class is simple: you are a character who excels at physical combat in some manner and who can theoretically reach a level of combat effectiveness that rivals or exceeds that of magic-users simply by having plenty of resources to dedicate to martial arts. I've seen many people decide to play a fighter because they want to prove that magic isn't the end-all be-all for combat utility, or simply because they want to emulate heroes like Conan or Theseus who take on crazy monsters with nothing but a sword and sheer guts. However, the harsh reality of the complex and rapidly evolving combat of Pathfinder means that Fighters aren't often capable of living up to their expectations.

Most recently, I was playing a dungeon crawl with a large party, one of who was a foul-mouthed falchion-packing 12th-level Orc Fighter named Krangoth. Krangoth wasn't the smartest character or even the most sensible; his specialty was dealing obscene damage using a combination of power attack and a 15-20 crit range on his blade. Thanks to his high base attack bonus and immense strength score, Krangoth could very easily hit any monster that he got close to, and was doing a respectable average of 48 or so damage per attack. On paper, it seemed like a character that could feasibly make their way through an appropriately tough dungeon. However, I very quickly learned how fragile this seemingly burly Krangoth was.

All that the monsters need to do to render Krangoth helpless was stay outside of his range, utilizing flight or climbing or even something as simple as a mud puddle or Obscuring Mist to stop him from effectively getting near them. Even when he could utilize his melee prowess, maneuvers like tripping, grappling, or bull rushing could quickly drop his damage numbers by means of negating his ability to full attack (or in the case of grappling, attack at all) with that immensely destructive sword of his. His HP was through the roof, but he was always a single bad roll away from being completely crippled by a spell or trap. What was designed to be an unbreakable juggernaut who destroys everything in his way ended up being a glass cannon who could be rendered helpless by any monster who used common-sense tactics.

While the fighter's copious number of bonus feats indicates that it should be capable of utilizing a vast arsenal of weapons and hence adapting to any situation, the design philosophy for many combat feats prevents such a build from being feasible. Being even passable at using a bow, a shield, or a second weapon requires at least two or three feats per selection, and being useful with a fighting technique requires even more investment in that style. Any Pathfinder Society players who have picked up the Valeros pregen may have noticed how haphazardly his feats are allocated, preventing him from making a sizable contribution to any sort of encounter. Fighters are forced to specialize in order to keep up with the creatures they are going up against, and these creatures often have quite a bit of leeway to negate whatever the Fighter is trying to do. Just looking at the statblock for a succubus or dragon displays just how many ways the average monster can do this.

And if a bad guy has the capacity to render a hero irrelevant, there is no logical reason as to why he shouldn't do just that. Something that many GMs end up forgetting is that monsters can be just as clever as the heroes, and that sort of cleverness can really help to engage players in a campaign. When spears were the paragons of warfare, the Macedonians won by utilizing bigger ones. When Britain couldn't overpower the Spanish Armada, the won by sabotaging it. When the mustard gas came into the trenches, you can be that gas masks emerged soon after. Likewise, the evil overlord should quickly recognize that throwing wave after wave of minions at the heroes is doing jack squat to stop them, and so turn to different tactics.

The benefits of strategic enemies in a setting are monumental. It gives players a sense of danger, because enemies are smart enough to cover their bases and exploit gaps in the heroes' plans. It gives players a sense of importance because now the tactics they are using have consequences, and the rest of the villains are shaping their agendas to guard against what took down their buddy. Finally, tactical bad guys give the player a sense of intrigue, because intelligent opposition forces the players to respect the NPCs as thinking, functioning entities whose capacity for ingenuity rivals their own. Overall, battle strategy turns a ho-hum encounter with ravenous Gnolls into a tense engagement that forces players to stay on their feet. If the baddies change up tactics, exploit the weaknesses of the players, and coordinate their engagements so as to maximize their chance of victory, the PCs will be forced to do the same, in the process delving into a dimension of gameplay they may not even have considered.

An example comes from my most recent session, in which the players were able to beat a rapacious barbarian horde by taking cover behind fortifications and employing elemental attacks that could get around the barbarians' damage reduction. Rather than having the clan leader send another horde to the same fate, I decided that the shaman commander would instead trap the heroes inside the fortress by laying siege to it, thus forcing them to engage her in the open before she called in more troops. On top of this, she gave potions of Resist Energy to her lieutenants, preventing the PCs from fire-balling or acid-globing their way out. This is the kind of thinking that a military commander does in real life, and it should be the sort of tactical aptitude that your villains display in-game.

The issue with classes like Fighters is that they are counter-intuitive to this sort of intelligence and adaptability, pigeonholing the character into one specific fighting style that is very difficult to change and which defines their entire character. This, in turn, makes things unpleasant for a Fighter who finds himself up against bad guys who quickly pick up on the fact that he's only truly dangerous in melee, and so switch to sniping tactics to take him down while minimizing casualties. A cleric or wizard can simply change their spells prepared, while a sorcerer or bard comes with enough spells and abilities that they have at least one trick up their sleeve in case things go south. A Fighter, meanwhile, is stuck, forced to use a fighting style that has become decreasingly useful as the game moves along. As a result, GMs are forced to design encounters that accommodate the Fighter's lack of tenacity (which results in a lot of samey-feeling games) or throw the character up against opponents that completely outplay them.

So, how does one reconcile this problem of unreliability while still keeping players alert with complex encounters? The answer lies in rethinking what a class should be capable of doing. When somebody builds a specialist, they should not be prevented from engaging in any other scenario. Instead, they should be able to participate to an adequate degree in any situation, truly excelling in a few specific ones that they optimized for. Classes like the alchemist and the inquisitor do a fantastic job of this, utilizing a large pool of resources that are universally handy but still offering options that enable them to be awesome in specific departments. The martial classes presented in Dreamscarred Press' Path of War books alleviate many of the troubles of playing a martial character, giving them a fair amount of power while also offering abilities that are useful not only in combat, but in exploration, stealth, and diplomacy as well. Some of the additional rulebooks put out by Paizo are helping to mitigate this issue, with archetypes like the Mutagen Warrior giving the maligned class some new options that enable it to work even against smart or non-combative foes. Heck, giving your Fighter some more skills or some feat-shifting mechanics might even be enough to bring him up to snuff.

Overall, I encourage GMs to get more dangerously inventive with their villains, and to perhaps encourage players to take more versatile classes than the Fighter for the sake of making the game interesting for everyone. The improvements that party balancing as well as enemy strategy can bring to a game are well worth the consideration involved.