Why Hero Leadership Really Fails

There’s a particular story we love to tell about leadership.

One person stands at the front. They have the answers. When things go wrong, they step forward, make the hard call, and save the day. The team rallies. The credits roll.

It’s a great story. It’s just a terrible way to run a Dungeons & Dragons party… or any other organisation.

The Myth of the Hero Leader

Hero leadership is built on a simple idea: progress depends on a single exceptional individual. The hero leader is decisive, charismatic, endlessly capable. When the dragon appears or the quarterly results dip, they draw their sword (or pen) and fix it.

In D&D, this often shows up as the “main character” syndrome. One player dominates planning, talks to every NPC, solves every puzzle, and lands the killing blow. The rest of the party becomes a supporting cast, present but rarely essential.

In business, the same pattern plays out with the superstar manager or visionary executive. Decisions funnel upward. Problems wait for approval. Success is attributed to one person rather than the system around them.

In both cases, things may appear to work… for a while.

What Actually Happens at the Table

At a D&D table, hero leadership creates subtle damage long before it causes a wipe. Other players disengage. Why contribute if the paladin always decides the plan? Why risk a creative idea if the wizard will override it? The game becomes quieter, flatter, less surprising.

Worse still, the party becomes fragile. When the hero is absent, stunned, or simply wrong, everything collapses. A single failed saving throw can derail the entire session. D&D is designed around distributed competence. Different characters shine in different moments. When one player tries to carry the whole narrative, the system pushes back, usually with teeth.

The Workplace Version Is No Kinder

Hero leadership in business produces similar cracks. Teams stop thinking ahead. People wait to be told what to do. Initiative dries up, not because people lack ideas, but because they’ve learned those ideas won’t be used.

Decision bottlenecks form. The “hero” becomes exhausted, then indispensable, then overwhelmed. When they finally step away, the organisation discovers it hasn’t been developing leaders at all, only dependencies.

The scariest part? It often looks like success right up until it doesn’t.

Heroes Don’t Scale

A single hero can slay a goblin. They cannot sustainably run a campaign. Both D&D parties and businesses face complexity, uncertainty, and problems no one person can fully understand. Trying to centralise leadership in one figure reduces the system’s ability to adapt.

When leadership is shared, something different happens. People take ownership of their piece of the problem. Information flows faster. Mistakes are caught earlier. Success belongs to the group, not the loudest voice.

In D&D, this is when the rogue scouts ahead without being told, the cleric speaks up about risk, and the fighter suggests a plan that isn’t “kick in the door.”

In business, it’s when team members make decisions within their remit and feel safe doing so.

The Real Alternative Isn’t Leaderless Chaos

Rejecting hero leadership doesn’t mean abandoning leadership altogether.

It means shifting from “the leader has all the answers” to “the leader creates the conditions for good answers to emerge.”

In D&D, the best leaders are often the ones who ask questions:
“What do you think?”
“Who hasn’t spoken yet?”
“What’s another way this could go wrong?”

In business, strong leaders do the same thing. They clarify intent, set boundaries, and trust their teams to act within them. They step forward when needed and step back just as often.

Shared Leadership Creates Better Stories

The irony is that hero leadership actually makes for worse stories.

The most memorable D&D moments rarely come from flawless heroes. They come from messy plans, unexpected teamwork, and someone stepping up who wasn’t supposed to be the star. The same is true in organisations. The strongest cultures aren’t built around legendary individuals, but around teams who know how to think and work together under pressure.

If you want a campaign that lasts, or a business that survives its own success, retire the hero.

Build the party instead.

Bullets, Bandannas, and Beautiful Nonsense: Playing 80’s Action Dudes

There are roleplaying games where you carefully track encumbrance, calculate modifiers, and debate the tactics of which spell to cast first. And then there are games where you kick down a door, fire an assault rifle one-handed, and shout something so gloriously ridiculous that reality slaps your back and gives you your hit points back.

80’s Action Dudes, created by my mate Marty, lives proudly in the second category.

Welcome to the Jungle (Bring a Soundtrack)

From the moment we sat down, the tone was locked in harder than a flexed bicep in a sleeveless vest. An 80s rock soundtrack blared in the background, all electric guitars and swagger, the kind of music that makes you feel like you could outrun an explosion purely out of principle. Marty had curated the perfect soundtrack with bands like Poison, Whitesnake and Boston, that had us all ready to play before we even created our characters.

It only took Marty 2 minutes to explain the system of 80’s Action Dudes, a clever hack of Cthulhu Dark by Graeme Walmsley. Different dice for different guns (D4, D6, D10) and the dice didn’t tell you if you hit. No way. They told you how many people you took out of action.

We came to kick ass and chew gum, and we were all out gum. Oh and we had three hit points.

Character Creation: Maximum Velocity, Zero Brakes

Character creation was also quick and easy. You needed:

  • A cool name
  • A main weapon
  • A one line description
  • Some special kit

That’s it. Vibes and testosterone.

Enter my character:

Rusty MacGregor
Ex–French Foreign Legionnaire. American as fuck.

Armed with his trusty assault rifle, razor sharp machete, and a tin of chewing tobacco, Rusty also sported a stars and stripes bandanna across his ruggedly handsome brow and was ready for action.

The Action Dude Team… you get the picture

The Crew: The Action Team

Our team was exactly what you’d hope for:

  • A Chinese ninja who moved like a shadow deadly throwing stars at the ready
  • A bare-knuckle fighter built like Van Damme with mad nunchuck skills
  • A mad radioman “Giggles”
  • Two M60 armed musclemen Rip and Butch.

Together, we were dropped into a jungle with one mission:

Take out a camp of commie insurgents. No diplomacy. Just kicking ass and shooting guns.

Mechanics That Punch You in the Face (In a Good Way)

The genius of the game wasn’t just in its theme, it was in how the mechanics fed that theme. Marty had got the balance just right.

Grenades? You didn’t roll for them. You physically threw balls into a bucket. Missed the bucket? Bad luck. That grenade is now someone else’s problem. Hit it? Boom. Cue cheering, high-fives, and a slow-motion dive.

We even had a proper mud map laid out in the garden adding to the immersion of our grand tactical planning.

Mud map ready for our Action Dudes to plan their assault

Now here’s where the game transcends even further. When you took wounds, you didn’t just sit there and sulk like an unpatriotic man baby. You earned them back the only way that matters:

One-liners.

Drop something suitably punchy, and you’d claw back your health.

Something in the spirit of Arnie and Stallone, like:

“I eat Green Berets for breakfast. And right now, I’m very hungry!”

Alternatively, you could clasp hands with a teammate, lock eyes like long-lost brothers, and bellow:

“SON OF A BITCH!”

Instant recovery to full hit points!

Action dude HP recovery

Scenes That Shouldn’t Work (But Absolutely Do)

What followed was a cascade of moments that felt ripped straight out of an Expendables fever dream:

  • Rusty leaping from a creek firing into enemy reinforcements
  • The ninja appearing and disappearing like a lethal magic trick
  • Grenades arcing through the air with varying degrees of success and panic
  • Entire squads of enemies being removed from existence in single, glorious dice rolls
  • The ammo dump exploding in a tongue of flame
  • Rusty dying in a blaze of glory at the helm of a Russian attack helicopter (dont ask)

It was loud, chaotic and deeply, deeply … fun!

Why It Works

At its core, 80’s Action Dudes is a masterclass in one simple idea:

Commit to the bit.

The rules are light, but laser-focused. Every mechanic pushes you to be louder, bigger, and more ridiculous. There’s no room for hesitation, only escalation. And because everyone understands the tone, the table becomes a kind of shared action movie, where each player tries to outdo the last in sheer action-hero bravado.

The result? Eight grown adults laughing like lunatics while throwing pretend grenades and inventing increasingly terrible one-liners.

What it’s all about

Final Thoughts: Explosions Optional (But Encouraged)

What this game proves, more than anything, is that you don’t need complexity to create something unforgettable.

  • Give players a strong theme.
  • Give them permission to go all in.
  • Add a few clever mechanics that reinforce the fantasy.

Then stand back and watch the magic happen. 80’s Action Dudes wasn’t just a game., it was a riot. And Marty was an absolute legend for pulling together such a memorable game.

Nine Player Chaos: Multiplayer Space Weirdos

MartyCon was just around the corner and I had promised to run a multiplayer Space Weirdos game. I wanted to double down on the 40K style Inquisitor games, where alliances were uncertain and every protagonist had their own agenda. I love the 40K universe and all the infighting portrayed in their fiction and I’ve played with this concept before. So I really went for it this time. Here is what I came up with.

The Premise: Everyone Has a Plan. None of Them Align.

The scenario uses the gloriously lean and kinetic ruleset of Space Weirdos. This meant that the game would be fast and brutal. Every player had their own secret primary and secondary objectives, all interlocking and clashing. I had planned for chaos.

The setting: The Virellion (Imperial Governors) estate

The cast: 9+ players.
Each player controls:

  • 1 Character
  • 1 Sidekick
  • 2 Secret Objectives

This means that everyone’s go will be quick, keeping downtime for non active players to a minimum.

Cult of the Star Filled Maw rams the gates

Some of the Factions & Objectives

  • The Governor
    Objective: Escape the palace alive with your priceless artefact.
  • Security Chief
    Objective: Keep the Governor and his daughter alive at all costs.
  • Cultist Leader
    Objective: Kill the Governor.
  • Governor’s Daughter
    Objective: Usurp (kill) the Governor.
  • Rogue Trader
    Objective: Steal the Necron artefact, protect the Governors daughter.
  • Rebel Lieutenant
    Objective: Free the imprisoned genestealer.
  • Inquisitor
    Objective: Defend the genestealer (for future experiments) and kill all cultists.
  • Mad Priest
    Objective: Kill the Inquisitor.

While there may be obvious teams to start with. These are just temporary and everyone know betrayal is just around the corner, only they don’t know which one.

The Mad Priest dashing from the cemetery. “Ill kill that Inquisitor if it’s the last thing I do”

Design for Collision, Not Balance

I’ve experienced multiplayer games where players spend too long maneuvering politely around each other. I wanted the action to begin right from the word go. So I needed to force proximity.

The objectives would create tension, but placing the teams fairly close would make sure that the action started quickly.

In hindsight this worked well, though the main road in the center of the board did create a bit of a firing lane. In addition I think removing 6″ from the width of the board would have help create even more carnage.

Virellion Estate: peaceful and quiet…. Not for long.

How Did it Play?

All in all we had a blast. I GM’d the game and kept everything moving. I introduced paper and pens so players could send each other secret notes. These added lots of fun for those players waiting for their turns, as well as adding another layer to the uncertainty and chaos.

Shots were fired and one Genestealer cultist got killed in turn one. The Genestealers took a beating and couldn’t get anywhere near their objectives. The Rogue Trader tried to defend the Governors only to get shot for his troubles. The Inquisitor and Mad Priest had a standoff while the Governor was assassinated by his own offspring. Joint winners were the Security Team and the Governors Daughter.

The game only ran for a couple of hours before the winners were declared and we moved on to the next game of the day.

Overall it did run well. However, I think I would tweak the objectives a little to make it a bit more of a maelstrom.

I’ve dropped my very unpolished notes here with the player handouts and a few notes on the board set up.

I’ll be running another multiplayer Space Weirdos in a few months, though next time it will be a more collaborative affair.