So you decided to run an evil campaign. Or maybe your players pulled off a few questionable stunts and, suddenly, without meaning to, you’re now running one. Evil campaigns open up a ton of new roleplaying opportunities as characters navigate their own moral ambiguity. In campaigns like this, you’re not necessarily playing heroes, but rather agents of change. That doesn’t mean uncontrolled chaos. It means your motivations and methods might be darker, but still driven by vision, direction, and purpose.

What Does Evil Actually Mean?

Most villains didn’t start as villains. In comics and history alike, they often started as vengeful, angry, or idealistic. Something pushed them over the edge. They weren’t just bad, they believed they were right. That’s what makes evil terrifying. Not just the actions, but the conviction that those actions are necessary and justified.

In D&D, this could be a paladin who burns a village in the name of a holy war, or a wizard so obsessed with power that they tear open the veil between life and death. Evil characters aren’t always cartoonishly wicked. They’re flawed people whose ambition overrides the cost to others.

Zombies with Swords

The real evil game-breakers? Murder Hobos. For some reason when someone says evil PC there is a party member who kills the next quest giving NPC. These blood-lusting psychopaths derail adventures in glorious fashion. They can be fun... for a while. But they come at the cost of narrative. There’s no story that survives a Murder Hobo. They’re not villains. They’re zombies. Mindless creatures who eat brains and kill for sport. They shamble through towns, slaying quest-givers, derailing story arcs, and nuking plot lines.

A compelling evil character doesn’t kill because they can, they kill because they must. Think Magneto. Walter White (Breaking Bad). The Punisher. These characters had ambition, pain, and a reason. Their flaws exacerbated their choices, and their decisions made them dangerous. As you can see, this is too dissimilar to a normal PC with a morale code.

How Evil Characters Can Still Be the Protagonist

In most campaigns, the villain makes the first move and the heroes respond. But in an evil campaign, your characters are the ones making the moves. You are the change. You light the match. You break the system and rebuild it in your own twisted vision.

That’s exciting, but it also means the player has more to do.

Your backstory tells the GM where you came from. But what they really need to know is where you’re going. What’s your character’s goal? Are they building a fortress? Toppling a religion? Seeking dark rituals to bring back a dead god? Whatever it is, define it. Make it ambitious. Make it specific.

Here’s a simple example of a story arc:

• Part A: Discredit a noble family or organization

• Part B: Take their place through influence or force

• Part C: Expand your power and become the new ruling elite

Now the DM has something to work with. You’re not just reacting to quests, you’re defining the story elements. You’re building the world alongside your DM, not just exploring it. That’s not easy to do, and it’s not something every DM can handle. But when it works? It’s the best kind of roleplaying.

The Power of Coalitions

Now that we have a great aim we are ready to do some evil! But actually, we aren't, because most great villains don’t act alone. Even history’s worst monsters built coalitions. They projected strength, unity, and a vision for the future. Internally, it was about power and control. But outwardly? It looked like leadership.

Your evil party is a coalition, not a chaotic brawl. You’re all aligned—for now. You share goals, or enemies, or both. Some of you might be along for the ride rather than leading the charge. That’s fine. Villains need lieutenants. And not everyone needs to be the one stealing tiefling children to raise as an army. Some players are happy riding the wave. That makes the story stronger.

And to keep it from devolving into PvP, build a code of conduct:

• Don’t steal from allies

• Don’t sabotage party goals without player or DM buy-in

• Secrets are great when they serve the story, not the ego

Evil doesn’t mean selfish. It means twisted ambition. If the goal is to rise above and burn the world behind you, make sure your fellow players want to build that fire with you.

Letting Go of Characters

Sometimes your character’s arc ends. Maybe they find redemption. Maybe their goals no longer align. That’s okay. That’s growth. And for an evil campaign, letting go can be very use and powerful. If your paladin decides not to burn the world after all because he found the cure to his family's deep dark secret, that’s a wrap. Bring in someone new who’s ready to pick up the torch.

I ran into this once when a redemption arc tore the party in two. One character, haunted by dreams and whispers of a lost love who appeared to them as a goddess, took the hook and began turning toward the light. It was a beautiful end to that arc, but it fractured the group because they held on to the character. Half the party wanted to torch the world, the other half wanted to save it. Suddenly, the party wasn’t aligned anymore. The campaign lost momentum because it imploded with real life dispute about what the campaign goal was. When a character completes their arc, it isn’t a failure, it’s a turning point to recognize. When your character’s goals no longer match the table, it might be time to step aside and let someone else carry the flame. Think of it as a new chapter, or at least the start of a new one. Remember, evil doesn't stop and wait for you to sort out your morale problems. It charges forward.

Planting Seeds with Your DM

Collaborating with the DM is essential in evil campaigns. Think of your goals as seeds. If you want to topple a kingdom, plant that idea early on. Let your DM water it. Don’t expect them to follow your outline, but give them something to grow.

In one campaign, I played a Half-Orc barbarian who wanted to overthrow a political system and rule by fear. I told my DM, and everything I did made sense in that context. I formed alliances. Found relics. Showed off strength. Made connections through intimidation. Subverted rivals. When the city finally bent the knee, it wasn’t random, it was earned.

Your job as a player is to define that arc and continue to check in and communicate what comes next. You’re not just playing in the world. You’re helping build it.

Evil Isn’t the Goal

Being evil isn’t a goal. It’s a lens. The goals are what matter.

• Build an empire

• Resurrect a dead god

• Tear down a corrupt kingdom and rise from its ashes

These are ambitions. And they’re what make your character the protagonist, not just the antagonist in someone else’s story.

Ask yourself before every session: what is my character trying to accomplish today? Evil campaigns require players to push the story. Not just wait for it.

Avoiding Real-Life Fallout

This kind of campaign requires trust. You might deal with betrayal, manipulation, secrets. But your table needs to be a safe place.

Don’t cross a line with another player just because it’s “in character.” If you’re stealing, lying, or plotting, let the player in on it, even if their character doesn’t know. Real-life tension isn’t the goal. A well-timed betrayal? That’s gold. A passive-aggressive rift between friends? Game over.

Set boundaries. Keep secrets from characters, not players. Use tools like sticky notes, side chats, or session zero discussions to keep everyone aligned.

Let the World Burn, With Purpose

Running or playing in an evil campaign can be one of the most rewarding experiences in tabletop gaming. It’s rich, layered, and full of dramatic turns. But it only works when:

• Players define their character’s arc

• The party functions as a coalition

• Everyone follows a shared code

• Arcs can end and evolve

• The DM knows where the fire is being lit

So don’t just ask where your character came from. Ask where they’re going.

That shift turns them from a backstory into a protagonist. And when a party of evil characters is aligned, even if for their own wicked reasons, it can lead to the best stories your table has ever told. And hey, if you’re lucky, you might even become a god. Or at least a very powerful villain with a damn good arc. And that’s almost the same thing.