Clinical Study #1: Barbarian Rage Issues

 So I got bored the other day and randomly thought it might be funny to ask Chat GPT to pretend I am a psychologist and send me characters from D&D so I can solve their problems.. (I keep having warlocks committed to an asylum for “hearing voices”)

Most of it is pretty lame but last night I had this exchange with Korrak, a Half Orc Barbarian.. 

Dr. Smith: Send in the next patient

There’s a soft knock, followed by the door opening to reveal a young half-orc, wiry and tense, with scars crisscrossing his arms and a battered longsword strapped to his back. His greenish-gray skin is streaked with dirt, and his eyes dart nervously around the office. This is Korrak Bloodfist, a level 2 barbarian.

He steps in cautiously, muttering under his breath.

Korrak Bloodfist: “Uh… hey, Doc… they said I… I should come talk to someone… about… y’know, uh… anger. Rage. I… I don’t always… control it. And people… get hurt. Friends, strangers… sometimes both.”

He shifts from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable, and runs a hand through his messy hair.

Korrak Bloodfist:  “I… I don’t want to be… a monster. But when it starts… I can’t stop. I… I don’t know what to do.”

Dr. Smith:: “Hmmmm.. Rage issues you say.. You are a half orc? Your friends sent you here?

Korrak shifts uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck, eyes flicking to the floor.

Korrak Bloodfist: “Uh… yeah. I’m a half-orc. And… yeah, my friends… they kinda… insisted. Said I… um… ‘need to learn to keep the hammer in my fists,’ or whatever. They’re scared sometimes… scared I’ll snap and… hurt someone. I… I don’t want that. I really don’t.”

He sits down carefully, shoulders hunched, hands clasped tightly in his lap.

Korrak Bloodfist: “Sometimes it’s like… I feel it boiling inside me, y’know? Heat, rage… and then, boom! I’m swinging, yelling, smashing… and afterwards… I feel… awful. Guilty. Ashamed. They say I’m strong… but I think I’m just… dangerous.”

He glances up at you, green eyes wide, searching for some guidance.

Dr. Smith: “Ok let me take a... Ohhhh... Do you have insurance? My notes here say you had it in 2014 but it expired in 2024.”

Korrak blinks, looking confused and a little embarrassed, scratching the back of his neck again.

Korrak Bloodfist: “Uh… insurance? I… think I had some back in the city… 2014… yeah, I remember that. But… uh… expired? 2024?” 

He frowns, clearly struggling to process the paperwork.

Korrak Bloodfist: “I… don’t really keep track of that stuff. I just… go adventuring, fight monsters, get the coin… never really thought about insurance. Do… do I need it to, uh… talk to you?”

He shifts uneasily in the chair, shoulders hunched, clearly anxious about the administrative side as much as his rage issues.

Dr. Smith: “I see.. Do you get frustrated often? Maybe with younger, more inexperienced party members?”

Korrak shifts again, frowning and rubbing the back of his neck. His jaw tightens as he thinks.

Korrak Bloodfist: “Uh… yeah… I guess so. Especially with the newer ones, or the ones who… don’t listen, or mess up stuff that seems… obvious to me. I try to be patient, I really do… but sometimes it just… bubbles up, y’know? Like a fire I can’t put out.”

He leans forward, voice dropping slightly, almost ashamed.

Korrak Bloodfist:  “And when it does… I… I hit first, yell loud, scare people. And then… after… I feel like… like I’m not their friend anymore. Or worse… like I’m just… a monster they have to keep around ‘cause they need the muscle.”

He glances at you, eyes searching for understanding, worry plain on his face.

Korrak Bloodfist: “I… I don’t want to be that guy. But I… I don’t know how to stop it before it happens.”

Dr. Smith: “I see.. Well good news is, according to the manual, you aren't a monster. Bad news is you aren't a playable species. You aren't alone in this. You should see the number of half elves I've had to adjust. I'm going to recommend you a prescription. It's a solution for adventures who are not in the PHB anymore, and feel neglected or left out.. It's called homebrew. Use as often as needed. Do you think you can consume at least twelve pints a day?

Korrak blinks, wide-eyed, clearly confused and slightly alarmed at your words.

Korrak Bloodfist: “Twelve… pints a day? Uh… homebrew? You mean… ale? I… I don’t… I don’t think I could drink that much, Doc. That sounds… dangerous. I mean, I’m not really a monster, you said… but that sounds like… a different kind of chaos.”

He shifts in his chair, looking nervous, scratching his arm where scars crisscross his forearm.

Korrak Bloodfist:  “So… you’re saying… I should… drink a lot of this… homebrew? To… control the rage? Or… uh… is this… metaphorical? I’m not sure I follow.”

Dr. Smith: “No it's literally alcohol. If you don’t think you can do 12 a day. How about a flask? Perhaps you can get it enchanted so it never runs out?”

Korrak’s eyes widen in horror, and he recoils slightly in the chair, shaking his head vigorously.

Korrak Bloodfist:  “Wait… wait… literally? Alcohol? Twelve pints a day? Doc… I… I don’t think that’s… safe. I mean… I’ve had a mug or two after a fight, sure… but… twelve pints? A flask? Enchanted or not… that sounds like… like I’d be hammered half the time, not… in control.”

He fidgets, his hands clenching into fists, clearly torn between trying to understand your prescription and his own sense of practicality.

Korrak Bloodfist:  “I… I don’t want to hurt anyone… but I also… I don't think I can… do that. Isn’t there… another way? Like… training, or… calming techniques… something besides… drowning myself in booze?”

Dr. Smith: “Look here is how it works.. The more you drink the sleeper you get and less likely you are to trigger a rage response. That's good as it solves the issue. But you might WANT to rage. You might NEED to be able to trigger that response. Do you have a cleric or mage in your party?”

Korrak blinks, trying to process your explanation, and runs a hand through his messy hair, muttering under his breath.

Korrak Bloodfist: “So… the more I drink, the calmer I get… less likely to go berserk… okay, I can… sorta see that. But… wait… you’re saying sometimes I need the rage? Like… for fighting or… something?”

He leans forward, voice lowering, eyes serious now.

Korrak Bloodfist: “Yeah… we’ve got a cleric… a human named Lareth. He’s… good. Keeps us alive when I get too… excited, I guess. And a mage too… but mostly the cleric handles healing and… talking me down if I go too far. So… you’re saying I need to… balance it? Calm when I need to, rage when I need to?”

He looks at you, a mix of concern and intrigue, clearly trying to wrap his head around the idea.

Dr. Smith: Ok great! I'm writing you a prescription for a handy haversack of whiskey and a scroll of negate poison and toxins for your pals. When a flight is imminent, your allies will end your intoxicating state with the scroll and trigger your rage, which you will take out on the enemy. Now you look pretty fit. I'm guessing after a rage fit you need to hydrate. Contractto?”

Korrak blinks, jaw dropping slightly, clearly trying to digest the prescription you’re handing him. He scratches the back of his neck, looking both impressed and slightly alarmed.

Korrak Bloodfist: “Uh… okay… let me see if I got this straight, Doc…” 

He holds up a finger, counting each step in his head.

Korrak Bloodfist:  “Whiskey… haversack… for me. Scroll… for my pals… to end the drunkenness when a fight starts. Then I… rage. Take it out on the enemy… not the party. Got it.”

He scratches his arm, nodding slowly, the tension easing a bit.

Korrak Bloodfist:  “And… after all that… I need to hydrate. Yeah… that makes sense. Uh… contact? You mean… someone to watch me, help me with the process, or…?”

Korrak leans forward slightly, eager but nervous, clearly wanting to make sure he understands the plan completely.

Dr. Smith: “Not contact. You got it. When you need to hydrate what are you gonna reach for?”

Korrak Bloodfist:  “Well… water, I guess? I mean… after all that whiskey, I’m gonna need something to… you know… cool me down, keep me alive. Water sounds… smart. Yeah… definitely water.”

He leans back in the chair, a little more relaxed, the tension from earlier starting to ease as he processes the plan.

Korrak Bloodfist:  “And… uh… I guess I should… keep it handy? Like, within reach at all times?”

Dr. Smith: “No. Not water. Contratto. Celebration wine! This will improve morale with your allies. Everyone likes to toast a victory! Best of all you are gonna miss ALL the boring stuff. Shopping? Nope, too busy drinking. Researching in a library? Not for you! You're gonna be pounding beers before someone starts something, in which case you'll be pounding the offending foe into the ground. No more lame debates, no more talking about the next move, no more wasting time on things you aren't great at. How does that sound?”

Korrak blinks, then slowly a grin spreads across his face, teeth flashing in a half-orc smile. He leans back, chuckling, a laugh that rumbles from deep in his chest.

Korrak Bloodfist: “Ha! Celebration wine… huh? And… pounding beers before the fight? Drinking while the enemies show up… and skipping all the boring stuff? Yes! That… that actually sounds… amazing! I… I’m good at the smashing and hitting, not the shopping, not the arguing, not the… research. This… this is perfect for me!”

He leans forward, eyes bright, fists clenching in excitement, clearly pumped at the plan.
“And… everyone toasting after? That’s… morale, yeah… makes sense. I… I like it, Doc. I really like it. Finally… finally a way to use my strengths without… messing things up.”

Korrak’s posture straightens, energy radiating as he seems to embrace this new “strategy” for adventuring life.

Dr. Smith: “Then why are you still here talking to me? Get it there and start knocking back the shots and make sure you wash them down with at least once ale in between!”

Korrak practically leaps out of the chair, grinning wildly, his fists pumping in excitement.

Korrak Bloodfist: “Yes, Doctor! I… I get it! No more sitting around, no more overthinking… time to do! Shots, ale… celebrate, smash, repeat! Got it!”

He slaps his longsword against his shoulder with a satisfied thud and heads for the door, practically vibrating with anticipation, leaving only a faint scent of ale and excitement in his wake.

Dr. Smith: “Another satisfied customer, off to live their best life. That is why I do this.”