The thing about working with criminals, runaways, and opportunists was that the atmosphere tended to be very tense. Ruling over them by force only worked for so long and ensured that they'd eventually rebel against their master, and their infighting had to be carefully and deliberately managed: permitted to an extent, but only ever to an extent. Best they fought each other rather than their leader, but only enough to keep their savage impulses at bay.
And every team needed exercises to encourage trust and cooperation, which was only that much harder with a bunch of criminals and psychopaths who'd probably be opposed to each other without her eye upon them. Salem usually preferred to have them work on separate agendas alone, each given a little piece of her plan to carry out. Trying to get them to work together was an exercise in patience and frustration.
Yet it served its purpose. The day may eventually have arrived when their enemies were united and her subordinates needed to work together. So Salem devised a recurring exercise where they'd be forced to cooperate... but only to a point, and she'd allow their personalities to shine through, no matter how they may have hid them behind masks of character.
"Roll for initiative," Salem instructed, holding up a twenty-sided die from the head of the table behind her wall of instructions and game manuals.
Tyrian was eager to respond with his own dice, while Hazel and Watts were far slower, but complied just the same with their queen's order. She knew they hated this, but they endured it... they both understood the value of strategy and preparation, and even in the context of a game in a fantasy world they could see its benefit.
Tyrian's rogue character had the best response to battle and moved in for an attack of opportunity. Just like Tyrian himself would have: striking quickly and brutally at the earliest opportunity. He had no subtlety, no preparation, just whatever he thought would please his queen. His character on the game board was no different from the player directing him: too impulsive to take anything but the simplest and most direct approach, only changing tact if he believed he'd upset or disappointed Salem in some way. No doubt the poison running through him that twisted his mind prevented him from ever being more complex than that; his loyalty Salem could count on, because he wasn't able to think much past her commands, so long as they were commands he wanted to carry out.
Watts played a sorcerer, a magical class that betrayed more of his personality than he'd intended. He'd toyed with the idea of being a druid or a cleric or a wizard, but settled on sorcerer because of their greater number of spell slots, even if they learned fewer abilities overall. He wanted a handful of specific and powerful spells, rather than a greater versatility of knowledge. For all Watts' pretense of being a learned man, he would be satisfied so long as he had power and felt powerful, and power would always matter more to him than knowledge and secrets. And were that not telling enough, his reckless usage of his attacks demonstrated not only an indifference to the well-being of his allies, but an actual displeasure at working with them, preferring to handle battles himself, and perfectly willing to unleash his power even when they were in the path of his attack. If anyone were to 'accidentally' kill an ally, it'd be him.
And Hazel...
Hazel had chosen to play a barbarian and routinely found himself savagely and mercilessly beating his enemies. That fit well enough: he was a frontline fighter whose belief in his strength had driven him much of his life. But despite his vicious and brutal conflicts, in negotiations with the non-player characters he was even-handed and merciful, choosing to spare the weak his wrath. When facing a strong enemy he seemed to actually enjoy himself the thrill of battle with an uncertain outcome, but when facing the weak he'd be content to let them go on their way.
Salem was concerned about this pattern of behavior. Mercy was a weakness that led her to this damned keep in the first place, and she did not wish to see it in her ranks. She'd always doubted Hazel's loyalty, because he once held faith with Ozpin, but...
Hazel went along with Tyrian's recklessness and Watts' disdainful eliminations. He didn't protest their actions, but carried on. He clearly didn't approve of them or enjoy their company, but he never started a fight, even when provoked, while Tyrian and Watts were constantly arguing their course and their characters ready to come to blows.
Then Salem remembered how sentiment could be useful, how the need to honor one's pledge could turn to obsession in fulfilling one's duty. Hazel was a powerful warrior, and he fulfilled his obligations. He'd be a dangerous enemy for Salem had Ozpin not decided his plans were more important than his word.
Salem would see Hazel died fighting for her cause. But later, after he'd killed a great many for her. That way, when she revoked her own promise, he'd have never known it, and would die believing he'd fulfilled his obligation to their pact. And the dead would not judge her.
She knew how to position them now, and what roles they had to play. It'd be a shame Hazel wouldn't join them for the final battle, but no matter how powerful he was, his mercy and compassion was the weakness she needed to cut out.
Tyrian could be reckless and impulsive; no matter so long as he followed his queen's will. Watts could be thoughtless and cruel in pursuing power; Salem would give him a ration of it, and he'd either accept it or challenge her for more, but he'd never be strong enough to best her while he was so single-minded.
A few more games would be planned to see if they could work better in cooperation, but the important questions had been answered. She knew where to position her pieces.
And when to sacrifice them.