In Defence of Rules Lawyers (A Barrister’s Plea)

Ladies, gentlemen, and sentient gelatinous cubes, I stand before you today to defend the most maligned figure in all of tabletop gaming: The Rules Lawyer.

[Pause for booing]

Yes, yes, I know. We all have one at our table. That insufferable pedant who interrupts your dramatic moment to inform you that actually, according to page 247 of the Player’s Handbook, subsection 3.2.1, paragraph 4, your Eldritch Blast cannot, in fact, target a creature behind total cover, even if that creature has been making rude gestures at you for the past three rounds.

The Accusation

The Rules Lawyer is accused of many crimes:

1. Murdering the Mood - “We were having such a nice dramatic moment before Trevor reminded us about bonus action economy!”
2. Wasting Time - “That’s fifteen minutes of my life I’ll never get back, Trevor.”
3. Being Generally Unbearable - “Trevor, we know you’ve memorized the entire PHB. We’re all very impressed. Now please let Sarah finish her turn.”

To all of these charges, I must respond: Guilty as charged, your honour.

But Consider This…

Without Rules Lawyers, what would we have? Chaos. Absolute pandemonium. Dogs and cats living together. Mass hysteria.

Picture, if you will, a D&D session where no one knows the rules. The fighter declares he’s making seven attacks. The wizard claims Fireball doesn’t affect his allies because “it would be more fun that way.” The rogue insists that hiding behind a candlestick grants full concealment.

Who will stop this madness? Who will stand between civilization and the abyss?

Trevor will.

A Personal Confession

I must admit, I am myself a recovering Rules Lawyer.¹

It began innocently enough. I simply wanted to understand whether my Paladin’s Aura of Protection applied to death saves. Then I needed to know if Hex damage applied to each beam of Eldritch Blast. Before I knew it, I was spending three hours in Sage Advice threads arguing about whether a flying creature falls if it’s knocked prone.²

The addiction is real, people.

The Middle Path

Now, I’m not suggesting we allow Rules Lawyers to run amok, citing errata at every turn like some kind of deranged legal citation machine. That way lies madness.

But perhaps—and I’m just putting this out there—perhaps we might show them a modicum of appreciation?

A Modest Proposal

1. Designate a Rules Referee - One person (probably Trevor) who holds the sacred responsibility of rule arbitration. When called upon, and only when called upon, this person may speak.

2. The “Not Now Trevor” Rule - Trevor may note rules concerns but must save them for after combat/the dramatic moment/Sarah’s turn.

3. The “Actually Trevor Was Right” Acknowledgement - When Trevor does save the party from a misunderstanding that would have resulted in everyone dying, we must grudgingly admit he was helpful. Doesn’t have to be enthusiastic. A mumbled “cheers Trevor” will suffice.

In Conclusion

Are Rules Lawyers annoying? Frequently.

Are they pretentious? Almost certainly.

Do they take themselves far too seriously? [Glances in mirror] No comment.

But do they serve a purpose? Reluctantly, yes.

So next time Trevor interrupts your emotional character moment to explain the difference between total cover and three-quarters cover, take a deep breath. Count to ten. And remember: that same attention to detail might just save your character’s life when you’re arguing that your Counterspell does work against that lich’s Power Word Kill.

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May your rules be consistent and your DMs be merciful.

—Arthur

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Footnotes

1. I say “recovering,” but I still check Sage Advice three times a week. ↩

2. They do fall. It’s right there in the rules. I’m not still bitter about that argument, why do you ask? ↩