Every good TTRPG story has an antagonist–a villain, a big bad evil gal. They’re at the core of adventures or missions, responsible for all the bad that is happening, and which spurs our heroes into action. Dealing with them by foiling their plans, dispatching their underlings, and facing them in epic battle is what makes these games so much fun and rewarding.

But those antagonists aren’t a nemesis. See, I think a nemesis is much more personal then a mere villain. They’re much more complex, perhaps even larger than life in some sense. A good nemesis is always present, always on the minds of the characters, whether they’re directly involved in the current adventure or not. And they’re just as difficult to handle, always just out of reach.

A powerful CEO in a cyberpunk game; a dreadful ancient vampire lord in a dark fantasy story; a dark shadow from your past; a god too involved with mortal affairs.

A nemesis is more than just an obstacle at the end of the story. The relationship to them is complicated, and an endless source for drama and tension. Not every meeting with them must be a fight. The players can seek them out when they’re desperate, get involved in their schemes when they’re not careful, defend them against another threat out of a sense of moral duty.

A nemesis is the an extension of the the character’s motivations, ambitions, drives, and desires. And just as much they are the inverse of these things. A nemesis stands for everything the characters stand against, even if both want the same thing. And just like that, their conflicts can never truly be resolved. If they could, it would just be a mere villain. A story with a start, a middle, an end. A nemesis is part of the characters’ story, not just part of an adventure.

As GM, you can use a nemesis as great narrative tool. Force the characters to cross path with them in situations they can’t just attack them. Make them nearly untouchable, and then put them in the spotlight right before the characters. Make them the perceived heroes of the story, turning the world against the characters. Force the characters to make difficult choices regarding their nemesis. And remember, the characters are the nemesis to this villain. They would know everything they can about the characters, anticipate their actions, learn their behaviors, and identify their pressure points. A nemesis can show the players their weakness, their shortcomings, the lies they tell themselves.

This isn’t always easy to do, of course. It’s also not entirely necessary. Not every adventure needs to be connected to this larger, ever-present threat. That said, the outcome of the adventure or mission could be something the nemesis would find a way to leverage somehow. The party kills an evil dragon, perhaps the nemesis finds a way to resurrect its corpse later to bind it to their service. The players deal with a violent gang in a district in their city, allowing the nemesis to take control over that district for personal gain. Add some dramatic flair by having the nemesis reach out the characters and thank them. A bit of spite, some hubris, can go a long way to make the players hate-love their nemesis.

It’s the GM’s job to challenge the characters, right? No matter the game, the GM brings the world to life and pushes back against the characters’ actions. It’s the foundation of every good scene: Who is in it, what do they want, and why can’t they have it? Also, why do we give a shit? The why is the part the GM plays. The obstacles, the things that make a scene interesting.

The GM challenges the characters. Such is the natural order of things.

My favorite type of challenge is offering them hard choices. Difficult questions with no one good answer. Instead of just throwing consequences of their actions at them as the GM, ask them a question or offer a choice about it. Some games have push mechanics that simulate this very well. Often times, players can push a failed roll, but the at a cost. Perhaps another failure will bring major consequences, or there has to be something they have to give up in order to succeed. A price that must be paid.

In the Alien RPG, players can push a roll to reroll all dice that didn’t roll a success, but they increase their stress by 1. Stress in a horror game like Alien is not something you want to take on lightly, but a reroll could be the difference between closing the access door before the xenomorph reaches them, or coming face to face with it. Blades in the Dark lets you push a roll before you make it to gain an extra die at the cost of a point of stress. During narrative play in Lancer, you can push a failed roll which lets you reroll but the test is now harder, making it more likely to suffer a consequence even if the pushed roll succeeds.

Even games that don’t have this baked in can benefit from this approach. Failing forward, as it’s often called, the players get what they wanted from their action for a cost. They manage to break into the lock but damage their lockpicks; they sneak past the guards but leave tracks; they jump across the rooftop but drop something important. Even better if these moments are the choice of the player–if they want to succeed, the must pay the price. A difficult choice, which builds tension, lets the players inhabit their characters as they have to make a split-second decision.

Sometimes, these things could also be player initiated. Again, in Blades in the Dark, you’ll find a mechanic called “Devil’s Bargain.” A player can get an additional die to roll, but only if they accept a consequence that will occur regardless of the roll. The GM, or any other player, can suggest fitting Devil’s Bargains, and the acting player can choose whether to accept it. They never have to, but they can always ask for one. And again, these consequences will happen, regardless of the resolution of the action. The more creative the players and GM become, the worse these Devil’s Bargains can get. Think of the stories that these guaranteed consequences can unfold.

Creating interesting challenges is the GM’s job, but why not tag the players in to workshop what would make the most interesting story when a roll fails.