Taking a topic our of the GameMaster's hat: The President of the United States (suggested by Anonymous, take a bow). Well, I can think of two posts based on that topic. Here's the first.Though most role-playing games start the characters off as bottom feeders, looking to make their way in the world, allowing them to run long enough may bring them to the point where they're considering retirement. There are a variety of problems that come with having player characters in high profile leadership roles, which may threaten to collapse your campaign at higher levels, or discourage you from even attempting campaigns where the characters start out in those roles (Star Trek bridge crews, supers in the style of The Authority, or The West Wing RPG).
Common difficulties
Loss of motivation: Writing for bottom feeders is easy. They're looking for cold hard gold or to make a name for themselves. That's a simple motivation to tap into. Once they have achieved everything they've desired, the GM loses the carrot he's been dangling in front of their faces. Gaining "experience" for its own sake (i.e. leveling) - not a concern in all games - follow the law of diminishing returns. It takes progressively more XP to level up, and players may feel stuck in the mud, grinding away for that next bit of "cool". Sure, altruism remains a strong motivator of heroic campaigns, not necessarily for the players themselves.
Solution - Think big: Reaching the higher levels (whether we're talking about actual PC power levels or the upper strata of society) should be a reward, not a punishment. It shouldn't close doors ("sir, you're too important to risk on such a mission), it should be opening them. As the PCs got bigger, so did the world. The PC used to think of himself and his party. Now he has to think of his stronghold, his guild, his kingdom, his country, his starship, his planet! Make that real. There are role-playing opportunities both looking in (political intrigue, defending a favorite apprentice, etc.) and looking out (diplomacy with other large entities, the threat of invasion, etc.). Players can focus on expanding their political rather than personal power, or as often happens when you've accumulated a lot of stuff, on defending that stuff. Remember how you used to go out and raid a filthy rich dungeon? Well, you've got the rich dungeon now and other people are trying to raid it! How will players used to an offensive style of play deal with being on the defensive?
And once in a while comes a threat only the old veterans can overcome. Strap on the old armor, get the six-shooter out of the glass cabinet, jury-rig the old starship to run with a skeleton crew, and go into battle. It's like the old days, but more desperate than ever. Think big, but make it personal. What do these characters care about? They have all the money and power they need. They care about friends and family, about protecting what's theirs, and about doing what's right for those who have given them their trust. Endanger those things and you have your motivation.Too many pawns: With so many followers at one's beck and call, it's all too easy for PC leaders to just send NPCs into harm's way and let them do all the work. I once ran a Star Trek game where the PC bridge crew did just that. Realistic yes, but it often deflated the sense of jeopardy I was trying to create, and obviated the need for any PC's abilities aside from its rank. Sit back and relax, and eventually get bored.
Solution - Followers as tools: One way to handle underlings is to treat them as just another ability or piece of equipment on a character sheet. Your character may have a sword, but he still needs the skill to swing it. How about using skills to manage followers as well. So while an NPC might be doing your dirty business, you're still the one rolling dice. You still have a stake. And a GM can complexify such operations depending on the exact nature of said "dirty business". Orders must be clear (communications), tactics must be sound (tactics/strategy), personnel has to be well chosen (your character's IQ), not to say trained (your appropriate skill to see if you transmitted it well), and loyalty might be tested (charisma, did you just send someone on a suicide mission?). The point is that players can get involved in the plight of their followers and can use followers strategically instead of casually.
Solution (2) - Narrativist agreement: AKA the Star Trek model. You'd think the bridge crew would be too important to beam down to scout a hostile planet. You'd think the loss of a captain, XO, chief engineer and chief medical officer on an away mission would be disastrous for a starship. And yet, those are the characters always getting into scrapes while hundreds of junior officers and enlisted men stay tucked away safely inside the ship waiting for their console to one day explode. GMs running an upper echelon campaign need to strike a deal with their players about GENRE. If a game is to be inspired by the adventures of the starship Enterprise, then its unrealistic conventions should be followed. The bridge crew goes on missions because that's just the way it's done, and they would never think of sending anyone else in their place. The GM can enforce this by having redshirts die any time they attempt it. Faceless NPCs are a good way to present a danger, which the heroes must then overcome, so by all means, let them bring a couple, but the movers and shakers should always be the PCs.Too much power: High-level characters (or simply long-running ones) tend to have so many skills, so many hit points, so many spells, so many special abilities, so many "hero points", and/or so much equipment, that it may become intimidating to write a scenario for them. If they can pretty much do anything and get out of anything, how far can you "up the ante" before it becomes ridiculous? And if you don't, will your adventures be too easy?
Solution - Write to their weaknesses: No matter how powerful they are, the PCs still have blind spots, foibles and Achilles' heels. Exploit them. If a tank character has massive amounts of hit points, drop him in a vat of leeches that slowly drain away his strength. If the agile swashbuckler is untouchable, break out the poison gas. The super-scientist may not be equipped to handle a precarious social situation. Characters that excell at battle skills should be handed situations where killing is out of the question. And so on.
Solution (2) - Nerf!: Players will definitely NOT appreciate your constant nerfing of the abilities they worked so hard to get, but occasional, plot-driven nerfing can be extremely gratifying. An entire adventure might revolve around getting back a stolen spellbook, as the mage's spells are progressively spent. The starship crew might wake up with their minds transplanted in the the shipboard cats. A nasty curse might take away the PCs memory of certain skills. In all cases, such nerfing should be the core of the plot, and un-nerfing should be the characters' goal. That way, it's not an artificial "oh the GM doesn't want me to use my full potential so that he can better railroad/manage the adventure". It's a veritable in-story attack on the character(s). And remember what I said about high-level characters suddenly being on the defensive? It taps into that.
So stop being scared of the higher levels. Just strap up for the endgame. It's a whole other level of play.
As for my second inspiration on the topic of "The President of the U.S.", give me a couple days and check back in.
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