We’ve all been there. You’re sitting around the table, the rogue just managed a high-stakes sleight-of-hand check to snag a quest item, and the mood is electric. Then it happens. The player across from you clears their throat, adjusts their character sheet, and says those dreaded words: "My character wouldn't allow that." Suddenly, the game grinds to a halt. This is the core of the all paladins are bastards meme, a long-standing grievance in the tabletop RPG community that goes back decades. It’s not just about the stats or the smites. It’s about a specific brand of moral rigidity that can, frankly, ruin a Saturday night.
Tabletop gaming is supposed to be collaborative. But the Paladin—at least in its classic, old-school iterations—was designed as a wet blanket. When people say all paladins are bastards, they aren't usually talking about the person playing the character. They're talking about the archetype's tendency to prioritize an imaginary code of conduct over the fun of every other real human being in the room.
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The History of the Lawful Stupid Paladin
The Paladin didn't start as a choice. It was a prestige class, basically. In early versions of Dungeons & Dragons, you needed incredibly high ability scores just to qualify. You had to be Lawful Good. No exceptions. This wasn't just a suggestion; it was a mechanical straightjacket. If you strayed, you lost your powers. Period.
This created a specific type of player behavior. To keep their shiny "Detect Evil" and "Lay on Hands" abilities, players felt they had to act like the fantasy police. They became the "Lawful Stupid" trope. They would threaten to kill the party's Thief for picking a lock. They would refuse to negotiate with "evil" creatures that actually had useful information. Honestly, it turned the Paladin into a babysitter that nobody asked for.
You've probably seen this play out in modern games too, even though Fifth Edition (5E) loosened the reigns. The ghost of the 1980s Paladin still haunts the hobby. The idea that all paladins are bastards stems from this legacy of forced "goodness" that feels more like authoritarianism than heroism. It’s the "my way or the highway" approach to holiness.
The Alignment Trap
Alignment is a mess. It’s a 3x3 grid that tries to categorize the infinite complexity of sentient morality into neat boxes. When you combine "Lawful" with "Good," you often get a character who believes that the law is good, regardless of whether that law is actually just.
Think about it.
If a Paladin serves a kingdom where taxes are starving the peasantry, a "Lawful" Paladin might still enforce those tax collections because "it's the law." That’s where the bastardy comes in. They choose the rulebook over the person standing in front of them.
Mechanics That Encourage Conflict
It isn't just a roleplay issue; it’s baked into the math. In many systems, the Paladin is a "MAD" class—Multiple Ability Score Dependent. They need Strength, Charisma, and Constitution. Because they are so powerful in combat, there’s an unspoken (and sometimes spoken) expectation that their "flaw" must be their rigid adherence to a code.
Gary Gygax, one of the creators of D&D, wrote about Paladins in a way that modern players often find restrictive. In the 1st Edition Players Handbook, the Paladin was restricted in who they could associate with. They could only travel with other Lawful Good characters for long periods. If you were a Neutral Ranger or a Chaotic Bard, the Paladin was technically supposed to keep you at arm's length. That is a recipe for a fractured party. It’s why the phrase all paladins are bastards resonates so deeply with players who just want to play a ragtag group of misfits.
The Problem with Divine Smite
Let's talk about the Smite. It is one of the most satisfying mechanics in gaming. Rolling a fistful of d8s because you landed a crit is a dopamine hit like no other. But it also creates a "main character" syndrome.
When the Paladin is the one ending the boss fight in a single turn with "holy fire," and then spends the rest of the session lecturing the party on their lack of piety, it’s grating. It’s the combination of mechanical superiority and moral condescension. It makes the rest of the players feel like they are just the supporting cast in the Paladin’s personal crusade.
Why Subverting the Archetype is Essential
If you want to avoid the all paladins are bastards label, you have to look at the Oaths. In D&D 5E, the introduction of the Oath of Vengeance or the Oath of Conquest changed the game. These aren't necessarily "good" characters. They can be terrifying.
- Oath of Vengeance: They don't care about the small stuff. They want the big bad guy dead. They’ll let the rogue steal the crown if it helps them get closer to their target.
- Oath of the Ancients: These are basically "Green Knights." They care about light, love, and nature. They are much more chill at parties.
- Oathbreaker: This is the ultimate "bastard" move, but often in a way that is more fun for the narrative.
Real experts in storytelling—people like Brennan Lee Mulligan from Dimension 20 or Matt Mercer from Critical Role—often portray Paladins with deep internal conflict. They don't play them as paragons of perfect law. They play them as people trying to live up to an impossible standard and failing. That’s human. That’s interesting. A Paladin who is a "bastard" because they are struggling with their faith is a thousand times better than a Paladin who is a "bastard" because they think they’re better than you.
Real-World Historical Context
The concept of the Paladin is loosely based on the Twelve Peers of Charlemagne and the idealized version of knights in Le Morte d'Arthur. History, however, tells a different story. Real knights were often land-owning mercenaries who were more interested in power and lineage than "protecting the weak." When we play Paladins as "bastards," we are actually being more historically accurate than we realize. The "shining knight" was a propaganda tool. The "bastard paladin" is the reality of a person with a heavy sword and a sense of divine entitlement.
How to Fix Your Paladin Without Losing the Flavor
You don't have to stop playing the class. You just have to stop being "that guy."
First, realize that "Lawful" can mean a personal code, not the local town ordinances. If your code is "I will protect my friends," then you don't care if the rogue steals from a corrupt merchant. In fact, you might help them if that merchant is hurting people. That’s a Paladin people actually want to play with.
Secondly, stop using "Detect Evil" as a reason to start a fight. In many game editions, "Evil" is just a creature type or a general vibe. It’s not a crime. Someone can be "Evil" and still be a law-abiding citizen who pays their taxes on time. Attacking them makes you the criminal.
Finally, lean into the "bastard" element intentionally. If you're going to play an unlikable character, make sure the other players are in on the joke. There is a huge difference between a character who is an asshole and a player who is an asshole. One is a narrative choice; the other is a reason to get kicked out of the group.
The Social Contract
Every TTRPG has an unwritten social contract: we are all here to have a good time. The all paladins are bastards sentiment is a signal that the social contract has been broken. It means the Paladin player has forgotten that their character’s "code" is less important than the group’s enjoyment of the game.
Actionable Steps for Players and DMs
If the all paladins are bastards energy is ruining your campaign, try these specific fixes:
- Redefine the Oath: Sit down with the DM and decide what happens if the Paladin breaks their oath. Make it a story beat, not a punishment. This removes the "fear" that makes players act like Lawful Stupid zealots.
- The "Yes, And" Rule: Even if your Paladin disagrees with an action, find a way to let it happen. "I'll look the other way this once, but I expect a donation to the temple later." This keeps the game moving and adds a fun dynamic.
- Focus on Empathy: Instead of being the judge, be the shield. A Paladin who sees their role as "the person who takes the hits so others don't have to" is never considered a bastard.
- Flavor the "Holy": Maybe your power doesn't come from a god. Maybe it comes from your sheer willpower or your devotion to a philosophy. This decouples the Paladin from religious dogma, which is often where the "bastard" behavior originates.
The reputation of the Paladin is a scar on the history of gaming, but it's a scar we can heal. It starts by recognizing that being "Good" in a game doesn't mean being a nuisance. It means being the person the party can rely on—not the person they have to hide things from. Stop being the party's moral compass and start being their anchor. That’s how you kill the "bastard" trope for good.