Tieflings. You can call them “planetouched,” you can call them “demi-humans,” but nowadays, they’re presented (by many players) as “mega-angst devil-teen super-emo edgelords.” All too often, a player sees only the superficial features of being a tiefling. Ironically, it’s more tragic than their own tragic backstories. This leads some folks to balk at even allowing them at their tables. With such a reputation, why would they? However, tieflings are far more than that. This post will teach you the real meaning behind being a tiefling. With it, you’ll turn reactions from “Ugh, you’re a tiefling?” into “Ooh, you’re a tiefling!” Because if you’re not killing it, then you’re not playing it to the hilt.

First and foremost, tieflings do lend themselves quite well to the edgy loner and we’ll delve into that a bit later. For now, however, we need to dispel that as the primary way of playing them. Before Hellboy, before Dungeons and Dragons, before even Lord of the Rings, way, way back, in the middle ages was a clergyman who loved old Arthurian legends. Geoffrey of Monmouth knew it would be a hard sell to convince his fellows that this wasn’t a satanic story of pagan magic and godless idol worship. So, he made Merlin a half-demon who was immediately baptized and freed from satanic influences while still keeping all his power. The church approved of the adaptation and the Arthurian legends were updated. Merlin has never brooded over being a tiefling, he’s never resented the church for its intervention, he’s not lurked in the shadows pointlessly. He is one of the first examples of a tiefling and his alignment was most certainly not evil. He embodies the life we can all strive for in overcoming the circumstances we’ve been dealt. Recognizing that you are broken, as a tiefling, is an important realization. Even if you aren’t evil yourself, you’ve been touched by it. With Merlin himself as an example, it is more than plausible to aim to be good. It’s okay and a welcome change of pace. You may, however, have to be good in your own ways. Tieflings are still surrounded by superstition, meaning others will be apprehensive towards your help. To play around this, try donating anonymously to a temple or orphanage. Having a governmental position is okay, but being a part of an active (good-aligned) church will work towards improving your reputation. Make no mistake, despite your best efforts, there will be some who won’t totally accept you no matter what you do, but it is important not to fault them for feeling that way. You could also wear a number of holy symbols of different good deities, wear lucky horse shoes or rabbits feet, and maintain a garden of clovers (in the hopes you get a four-leaf clover) to put superstitious folks at ease. At the most extreme, you might file down your horns. So long as you’re expressing the backflipping and hoop-jumping you’re doing to fit in (and not simply telling people about it), you’re doing well.

Next, let’s cover the opposite end of the spectrum. The truth is, it is very easy to succumb to villainy or anti-heroism as a tiefling. It’s entirely possible you were shunned by an ignorant community, “exorcised” by an overprotective priest, or suspected of crimes you didn’t commit. Most of it is undeserved. These people are often trying to protect themselves from very real fiendish threats, but they don’t realize you aren’t necessarily a part of that. It makes it even more tragic, as you could have set yourself against these demons and devils. But the push for your expulsion has been the very thing to push you into villainy. Regardless of the avenue your character takes, he was shoved there by the whole world. Ran out of town for the upmteenth time? Now you need to sneak around to stay safe, now you’re getting into lockpicking, now you’re a rogue stealing from the wealthy and poor alike. And who better to start with than those who ran you out. Rich or poor? It doesn’t matter. Vengeance (and their money) is yours. Excommunicated from the church? That’s music to a fiend’s ears. Now you hear ominous offers on moonless nights, now you barter for the power to move ahead, now you’re a warlock with a grudge for hypocrites and not even your soul left to lose. Wrongly accused of crimes? Now you have to negotiate, now you have to spin yarns and tall tales convincingly because they won’t accept the truth, now you’re a bard talking your way out of anything and everything and setting legal precedents along the way. Down and down the spiral goes. The key is to decide your limits. Your party will be opposed to your villainous antics, so when you decide what folks have wronged you, choose people that are likely to be enemies of the party already. Work with other players on this. For example, if the clergy wronged you, you might propose that your cleric or paladin suspects corruption in the church and you’re working together to identify those individuals, but only on the condition that you get to render your own bloody revenge when you find the culprits. Ask about the party’s backgrounds too if their classes aren’t doing much for you. The possibilities go on and on. As for the general attitude, by no means should you refuse to work with the party, that’s the point of linking your backstory with someone else’s. When the group is ready to go, you need a reason to go with them, so stop brooding in the shadows all the time. Instead, speak minimally, saying only what you need to, but not necessarily simply. You want the impression of pragmatism from years of a hard life, not the broken dialog of a neanderthal “who no talk big.” Including your tail in your descriptions helps too. Keep in mind how dogs and cats use their tails. If an idea sounds good to you, you might say “Fine, I’ll play along” but your tail’s wagging betrays your real mood. Similarly, you could be sneaking down a hallway and your tail gently sways to and fro, helping you balance.

Lastly, the core of the tiefling. Every tiefling is set apart by the unholy power flowing through their veins. You may not feel this darkness all the time, but it might be especially noticeable in the presence of holy symbols and sites. You could describe yourself as wincing in their presence or it could simply be a sense of tension like a headache. The power itself takes the form of your innate magic. The initial spells you get, assuming 5th Edition D&D, are effectively parlor tricks, but they bely your sinister nature as you make doors open on their own or will the ground to start shaking. A more experienced tiefling unlocks a retaliating gout of flame and magical darkness to cover his escapes. These are the real expressions of your power. Infrequently describe the hits you take, saying embers spark across your head and arms. This should allude to your fiery wrath. Speaking of flames, fire isn’t nearly as frightening to a creature of Hell and this holds true for you. Since you resist fire damage, you can play into that. Snuff out torches, candles, or even campfires with your bare hands. Your magical darkness is a tad more difficult to incorporate, but it should be no problem to say shadows sometimes tilt towards you of their own accord. This makes you spooky and ominous. As with all other things, don’t overdo it.

Tieflings are far more flexible than most give them credit. Their ancient legacy spans from the middle ages itself and deserves its place in Dungeons and Dragons as a playable option. To those players, don’t strain tensions with bad habits. It does a disservice to us all, including the tieflings themselves, to reduce them down to a mere trope. Consider being good, consider being a team player bad guy, and consider the actual mindset of someone who inadvertently houses evil. Because if you’re not killing it, you’re not playing to the hilt.

-The Clark Side