It's a simple question, really. It lies at the root of Stranger than Fiction, a rather interesting movie, once you scratch the surface a little. The author in the movie can get away with 8. Me? I don't know. Hundreds maybe.

The thing is, the moral of Stranger than Fiction is relatively uninteresting and runs something along the lines of "if you move outside your comfort zone, good things may happen to you, and if you're a good person, you're going to end up happy." It's fairly standard Hollywood fare in that respect.

It does ask a couple of questions though, which is the interesting bit. "What is your responsibility towards Art?" and "As an author what is your responsibility towards your characters?" It's not a question it answers, it doesn't choose to set boundaries for what an author can and cannot do.

Which is something to consider. I mean, Adylheim isn't just a game, it's a place where we can stretch our literary muscles. So what are my responsibilities towards my characters? I'm not sure. My PCs all believe they are relatively nice people, well, except one, who just wants to be a nice person. I'm not sure if they deserve what I put them through, but then a character without strife is a character that isn't of any particular interest. My NPCs... they die at the drop of a hat. It's the nature of both the genre and the game, I'm afraid. NPCs are expendable, they're there to die, or stay alive. It's generally my choice whether they do either though, so the question becomes... when is it wrong for me to kill an NPC?

When their death means nothing, perhaps? When it has no consequence, maybe? If NPCs die without consequence or meaning, then what is the point? Why did they have to die in the first place? They all had lives, they had their own urges, if they are nothing more than blank slates with numbers, then why do I even bother with them in the first place? Placeholder NPCs are dull, they're boring, and maybe they should die.

But see, this brings me back to Stranger than Fiction, it is one of my favourite Will Ferrel movies because it's understated. He starts out as a fairly stock character, boring, bland, not willing to take chances. And the author has already decided to kill him. It is through his transformation from a boring character who lives in a complete rut that he escapes the fate the author has set out for him. Given it's something of a metatextual piece, you could wonder if the movie is actually the book the author is hinting at in the back of the book. But that's an aside.

When Will's character moves from being a stock character to a living, breathing person with goals and desires, that's when he starts the transformation that will ultimately save his life. Is it a good answer? Does it mean that fleshed out characters deserve to live? Not necessarily, though they certainly make up the majority of the ones who actually do make it. It's a shame to waste all the effort that has gone into creating a good character, after all.

At the same time, perhaps they need to die more than most. Because their deaths would be meaningful. These people have backgrounds, they have people who will miss them, they have a part in the web of life around them. I'm not going to pretend to have the answers, it's a good movie though, you should see it. It made me think, it may just do the same to you.