tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39233072845613669062024-02-19T09:59:10.300-08:00Chaotic Awesome!Afnielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00536421834404776530noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3923307284561366906.post-86504643223882219102011-10-12T18:47:00.000-07:002011-10-12T18:47:28.498-07:00itty bitty hiatusI'm going to be visiting family for the next week or so, so there'll be a bit of a break until I get back and settled. See you in a week-ish with the rest of the worldbuilding article series!Afnielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00536421834404776530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3923307284561366906.post-41500291947970012162011-10-11T12:13:00.000-07:002011-10-11T12:15:05.048-07:00baby's first geography<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<b>Top-Down Worldbuilding, Fourth Bit: Ludicrously Easy Cartography</b><br />
<br />
But Afniel, you say, drawing is hard and I have two left thumbs and my crayons used to cry when they saw me coming in kindergarten. What is this bull you are spouting now, about cartography being easy?<br />
<br />
Just that. In seven ridiculously simple steps, you're going to be perfectly able to draw at least some of a map for an Earthlike planet/plane.<br />
<br />
Bring a pencil and paper, and maybe colored pens or markers or something if you're feeling really fancy.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>Now, as you can see here, we have that aforementioned pencil and paper. And, well, an eraser, because I'm funny like that, and can't follow my own directions.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7mEALIwmKBu3IzbUObuyjBZ35WKOCgIO61dWRwVk1I8IGa6dttq35qqrXDG4QrtjnP8bZ-8nhkMUGXoBJZT0OREpi9Pg-qeCXWoyyA3iKFolKAIXMnkHFbGeIW9Qx08F1Qao8G2XFL1s/s1600/step1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7mEALIwmKBu3IzbUObuyjBZ35WKOCgIO61dWRwVk1I8IGa6dttq35qqrXDG4QrtjnP8bZ-8nhkMUGXoBJZT0OREpi9Pg-qeCXWoyyA3iKFolKAIXMnkHFbGeIW9Qx08F1Qao8G2XFL1s/s400/step1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's not a real desk until it has dice all over it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Now take that sheet of paper in your hand. So smooth and blank; a ripe canvas for fresh ideas. But yet, so intimidating...it's enough to give you a horrible case of writer's block. Freaking paper. What has it ever done for you? Let's show that smug piece of future wastebasket fodder who's boss.</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9iqZoXGPPkZX6vqRKvauVG8QoOaNEQLlNeO06xhWij_U20xujQHh8lyDcr1RvNVi1SZZ82gL_n8QVRvAs2aaWDwmUHciRQTxoQQq5Qn5FU2PTUCFtc8gvWPQhpfo1buj4K8-r3KxnLv4/s1600/step2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9iqZoXGPPkZX6vqRKvauVG8QoOaNEQLlNeO06xhWij_U20xujQHh8lyDcr1RvNVi1SZZ82gL_n8QVRvAs2aaWDwmUHciRQTxoQQq5Qn5FU2PTUCFtc8gvWPQhpfo1buj4K8-r3KxnLv4/s400/step2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's such a bully because deep down, it knows it's just termite food.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Wad it up nice and tightly. We want something that's going to be wrinkly as an old goblin's bottom when we're through with it. The more you crumple it, the more options you'll have a few steps later, and that's a good thing to have.</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxmKnGrwCC_czCuHAwGQ-4lnAIdzh-Q4qX0aC-YSWGCwwhViO7_SiyX7_gZtk4EBjN3u5RLM8-SmvWDvxwwa7WR50iM_YVQkMO-USdbFoVCZPe4u_OlO0OsplBOqAqUIgArQYkAau_1NM/s1600/step3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxmKnGrwCC_czCuHAwGQ-4lnAIdzh-Q4qX0aC-YSWGCwwhViO7_SiyX7_gZtk4EBjN3u5RLM8-SmvWDvxwwa7WR50iM_YVQkMO-USdbFoVCZPe4u_OlO0OsplBOqAqUIgArQYkAau_1NM/s400/step3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who's laughing now?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Unwrap it and smooth it out. We now have something much more topologically interesting.</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCqLJhFm9Ox8uNxR50YZ0L1Clk5yn-RNOgZZAdkmonXY_b_tIRSstc3js546YaLiZDyGAaFypq3e0dtrEhAZ1UwJ_RKBNkc7ZwIT_pkltBEMM_d-FFtx-IoedkpnqdRwKyO5aWfR3NU5o/s1600/step4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCqLJhFm9Ox8uNxR50YZ0L1Clk5yn-RNOgZZAdkmonXY_b_tIRSstc3js546YaLiZDyGAaFypq3e0dtrEhAZ1UwJ_RKBNkc7ZwIT_pkltBEMM_d-FFtx-IoedkpnqdRwKyO5aWfR3NU5o/s400/step4.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...Old goblin's bottom...why did I even say that?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
See all those wrinkles? Those are now your guidelines. For starters, let's put a coastline on this thing. Trace along the wrinkly edges until you get something that looks as natural or as alien as you want. Don't like it? Erase and try again. You really can't mess up something that you already crumpled up. And in this rare instance, a shaky hand can be a great benefit.</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxz8tKYY3rRwL0iY81igqEe1pYMjyqMaTBNBfQpD87DXOQ8Kw4DmjuyrktbBx2L8h0D-4wcXArc1hJ1tnQc0WhlzMWfC34NlnKkYGgB8BeK7ElqLcgvHvrI4N10gQ4dbbgq8AcaX397I/s1600/step5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxz8tKYY3rRwL0iY81igqEe1pYMjyqMaTBNBfQpD87DXOQ8Kw4DmjuyrktbBx2L8h0D-4wcXArc1hJ1tnQc0WhlzMWfC34NlnKkYGgB8BeK7ElqLcgvHvrI4N10gQ4dbbgq8AcaX397I/s400/step5.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't judge my pink pencil, okay? It's indestructible and advances<br />
its lead when you shake it. Regular pencils wish they were this pencil.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I've inked in the outlines and a few tentative rivers here to make it more visible and to give you an idea of what you can do. If you're shooting for Earth-like geography, a couple rules of thumb are that rivers 1. flow into larger bodies of water (including other rivers), 2. carve into the land as they flow, and 3. tend to create inlets and bays as a result of all this carving. What this means in the simplest terms is to draw your rivers terminating at the little pokey-in bits of the coast.</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwDOMwC4EhtR9E-JSGqvvlZfBvj8ffTzXI7Gf2Aooz7Jl5FJca4DdRmiBx6irSuewrim703EQxBThzQqOmJMDa_BzBJO7luNtZHsYtPmCPrgSgV-a1F_KyQ9fvc4Rwh8urN_QDC_t3OE8/s1600/step6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwDOMwC4EhtR9E-JSGqvvlZfBvj8ffTzXI7Gf2Aooz7Jl5FJca4DdRmiBx6irSuewrim703EQxBThzQqOmJMDa_BzBJO7luNtZHsYtPmCPrgSgV-a1F_KyQ9fvc4Rwh8urN_QDC_t3OE8/s400/step6.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rivers don't usually join then split like that, but realism<br />
is pretty overrated anyway.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Behold! A finished product. Note the lack of technical skill involved in making a pretty sweet map that you could even use. As far as placing mountains, forests, and other such things, remember that coasts are usually low (cliffs being an exception) and thus mountains can have a little space between them and the water. Forests require a fair amount of water and a low to moderate elevation; plains are drier and can really be at any elevation. The more rivers are in a low area, the more likely it is that the earth is particularly fertile there due to flooding and good irrigation. Think Mesopotamia. Settlements go wherever they can get what they need; see the previous articles if you're stuck for ideas on what that may be.</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnv-2cG6e0FCMviLaCKE_H2QlDdOgkpuug8PoMcjIdXqgaliAha3jliyPkg_TJIye9lrk7BvQZxyhmDCG7B53AYs5sDCI0IlkParI_skEGkvyH0MlCxDMG_Ylf1yStbpfyduSdW1v9XTU/s1600/step7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnv-2cG6e0FCMviLaCKE_H2QlDdOgkpuug8PoMcjIdXqgaliAha3jliyPkg_TJIye9lrk7BvQZxyhmDCG7B53AYs5sDCI0IlkParI_skEGkvyH0MlCxDMG_Ylf1yStbpfyduSdW1v9XTU/s400/step7.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rad sea monster: majesty not included.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This is a pseudo-medieval map, but you can apply the same rules to just about any concept and get something usable. Want to draw a whole world map or a single square mile? Just change the scale. It's simple, it's scribbly, but it's enough to game on, and just throwing a little color around it will make it look surprisingly good. If you're using it as a handout for players, try doing it on unusual paper, or carefully burn the edges to give it an antique look. Just don't accidentally light your cities on fire. That doesn't end well.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
You can instead use already-created maps if you prefer, and if they suit your concept. Photocopy some pages out of an atlas, or search for images of historical maps. Print something interesting off Google Map and white out the details you don't want, then add some new ones. (Just don't violate copyright by distributing or selling material you don't own.)</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
It goes without saying that you could also just freehand a map or something zany like that, but that wouldn't be ludicrously easy.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN5sIkh2AZhs7ogW31k0oveyFA2W6jTsYV1yxbInwOzSQUXI-sCVaesnS4M6ztvQIfzZNxhbp1MeM_dCOpHLKx2vdYVYDvLhtmSEMh-U7Tkd_FrIs9pPsAJ8orXoCZMpE1JjY1-zoefT4/s1600/small+ground+map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN5sIkh2AZhs7ogW31k0oveyFA2W6jTsYV1yxbInwOzSQUXI-sCVaesnS4M6ztvQIfzZNxhbp1MeM_dCOpHLKx2vdYVYDvLhtmSEMh-U7Tkd_FrIs9pPsAJ8orXoCZMpE1JjY1-zoefT4/s400/small+ground+map.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The map I eventually created for Treeworld. If you needed yet more proof<br />
that I am way, way too into detail, <a href="http://afniel.pbworks.com/f/Map-of-the-Ground.jpg">you can find the full image here</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The exact same ideas apply to this map and the pen and ink one I doodled for this article; the only difference is the degree of polish. If your concept doesn't involve a nice, stable chunk of ground like the one with which we are all presumably familiar, don't throw it out. You can tweak building floor plans to become space outposts. You can trace found objects if you can't draw the same shape twice. Diagrams of old machinery can be reimagined into steampunk edifices. Circuit boards even look a bit like futuristic cities. Wheels become side views of rotating space stations or artificial worlds. And hey, if all else fails, describe it in words, and let your players do the hard visual work for you inside their heads.</div>
Afnielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00536421834404776530noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3923307284561366906.post-35901990026123089112011-10-10T18:32:00.000-07:002011-10-10T18:32:58.208-07:00up with people<b>Top-Down Worldbuilding, Chapitre Trois: Imagine All The People</b><br />
<br />
Today we continue to build a setting, starting huge and zooming in one step at a time on the various details that take it from a neat idea to a living, breathing world in which you and your players can immerse yourselves. Now that we have a general space in which things can live, we're going to need to create some things that live there...so let's get to it!<br />
<br />
A little bit of a note before we really get going: the next several sections can be taken in whatever order strikes your fancy. We'll get to going over the details and smoothing out the bumps in a later step.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>A world without inhabitants isn't much for building a story. You probably have some idea of who or what lives in your universe. For simplicity's sake I am going to generally refer to the various inhabitants of the setting as 'people' regardless of their actual description...humans, outer space bug people, elves, rabbits, little green men, intelligent shades of the color blue...we're not going to be picky here.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
You have some idea of what kind of power sources exist in your world, and probably a good guess at the resources that are available to people. What we will plot out next is how the people use those sources of power, and how this creates the general shape of the regions and cultures that your players will explore.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Up front I will say that you can go as in-depth into this as you want, or keep it very simple. If you're fine with the D&D/fantasy trope of having humans, elves, dwarves, orcs, and some little people, and each has a monoculture with a racial god and racial social habits, you likely won't even need most of this article. If this just isn't enough for you, read on.<br />
<br />
We can start from any of several points, and they're all equally valid, but for conversation's sake let's begin with a starting point that most likely has its roots already firmly set in your world concept: who lives in your world? Are you using a single sentient species, or do you have several in mind?<br />
<br />
While creating the Treeworld, I made an executive decision and decided that there would not only be multiple species of intelligent creatures, but that various crossbreeds and genetic/magical flukes would be somewhat common. This was mostly a decision based in Dungeons & Dragons 3.5e's wealth of goofy templates and weird little splatbook races and wanting to give the setting a fantastical, mythical/storybook feel. I outlawed a few for flavor reasons, but by the end of my combing through books looking for species that might be fun to be, I had a final list of more than twenty acceptably playable races, and acceptable templates were really only limited by the starting level of the campaign.<br />
<br />
In tabletop settings, different races (technically species, but we'll go with it since it's popular usage) tend to be a stand-in for different cultures, allowing you as a creator to assign stereotypes to groups quickly and thematically. For this reason multiple races can be a quick, useful, and dirty tool for populating a setting quickly. But then again, culture can also be based in geography or shared history. If your setting has a group of humans and intelligent shades of the color blue that have lived, worked, and fought enemies together for hundreds of years, they may well share a culture in which other groups of humans or blueshades would not participate. You could just as easily substitute humans and more different humans, though, and have the same story; whether or not you find multiple races to be useful, or just distracting, is entirely up to you and your concept.<br />
<br />
At least for the purposes of fiction, you might consider using one, some, or all of the following very simple bases for defining your groups of people...<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Geography</li>
<li>Language</li>
<li>Appearance</li>
<li>Religion</li>
<li>Philosophy</li>
<li>Preternatural/supernatural ability</li>
<li>Common enemies</li>
<li>Technological/magical knowledge</li>
<li>Available resources</li>
<li>Lifestyle</li>
</ul>
<div>
At its most complicated, a person could rightfully be a part of many groups: they are a resident of a certain area; they speak the same language as the others in that region plus the one next door; they subscribe to the religion and philosophy of their family but not their neighbors; their bloodlines can be traced back to a completely different area, and they have living relatives there; they practice the lifestyle common to their area but the next door region lives in a very different way despite sharing a tongue. Though it's an interesting exercise and can give you a good feel for individual characters (and geopolitical conflicts) in the setting, for the purposes of most tabletop games a wider view of the world is sufficient.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Language doesn't have to be restricted to groups, though too many options may cause players' heads to spin a little and make your skill system creak unsteadily. For example, I split the standard 'Elven' language into three dialects for three different regions -- even a human or dwarf born and raised in that region might speak its respective dialect of Elven as their native tongue. Two were 'pure' Elven and one was an offshoot of one of the dialects, which due to these particular elves living among and interbreeding with the fae folk borrowed heavily from the language of the fae. It suggests a deep cultural history -- but really I never wrote much more background to it than that.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
You can as well use real-world examples to create or repurpose system-standard languages; Greek and Latin were once the languages of the well-educated, and it is entirely reasonable to suggest that your setting have an equivalent or several. You might also consider that if you use a lingua franca such as the egregious Common that not everyone will be fluent in it, let alone even able to speak it. Traders, travelers, and diplomats -- those whose livelihood depends on their communicative ability and cosmopolitan knowledge -- may have a good grasp of it and several other languages, but the common person is less likely to speak a language that they don't need on a daily basis.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When deciding where said groups live, consider what sort of needs they have and where they can most easily fulfill those needs. A nomadic herding or gathering society mainly needs space to roam. An agrarian society needs land they can farm, water to irrigate the land (either predictable rain or rivers), and possibly means to ship their crops (rivers or safe roads). More advanced societies need greater access to stone and metal, plus farmland to support larger populations. Societies that have sufficient resources and means to move them around tend to start gravitating towards areas that are more comfortable than utilitarian. Even spacefaring societies need places with plentiful energy and building materials that can be harvested. You might also consider whether or not groups find certain places or kinds of geography to be holy or unholy, and how they would treat such places.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When there are more people than resources, a group decides they are entitled to more than others want to concede to them, or if groups of people just find each other unbearable, these groups will come into conflict. People may handle these conflicts peacefully, such as through diplomatic routes, or nastily, with war. Keep in mind the deep impact that war has on the group psyche; real life is sadly full of examples of this. Even generations later, even if the warring groups find peace, groups of people remember the groups that have hurt them, and this fact can show itself in many ways: racism, preferential treatment, stereotypes, oppression, violence...the list goes on. You might want to incorporate this into your setting; then again, it may just be too dark for you and your group, and that's fine too.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Lastly, I talked (read: rambled) previously about power sources. If you're using extraordinary sources of power in your setting, how are they distributed? It could be that certain kinds of geography hold power: ley lines, holy sites, wormholes, or places where the boundaries between worlds grow thin. Perhaps only certain people have power: a bloodline with a supernatural ancestor, those with special training, or those that have undergone a specific rite. Objects might be the source of this power: rare gems, lost artifacts, experimental prototypes. (People, places, and things -- that about covers it.)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The common thread between these things is that whatever this power is it isn't available to every single person in the setting, at least not without great effort. Very broadly speaking, the higher the fantasy and harder the sci-fi, the more available and effective these powerful sources are, and the closer they edge to center stage in the plot. Many game systems, especially those that come with a setting, have a built-in 'power level,' while more generic systems allow the GM to choose the level as they see fit. The former is usually more difficult to modify while maintaining a good mechanical balance; the latter is designed to be quite easy. If you don't have a system chosen ahead of time, this is one of the most important factors to keep in mind when choosing.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What your power source(s) is, how it works, and how this affects the world are things that only you can decide. While you're mulling it over, remember that power sets people apart. It might make the empowered people of your setting into rulers, conquerors, or destroyers. By the same token they might be feared, reviled, or actively hunted, turning them into the outcasts and the powerless. Less dramatically, they may be simply seen as different -- though being different from the majority is never really simple. Use whichever approach suits the world you want to paint and the story you want to tell.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That's enough mental spewage from me for now. Next up is geography, environment, and how to go about fleshing it out. Bring a sheet of paper and pencil, because it'll be arts and crafts time! ...Don't worry, you don't even need to be able to draw a straight line. We're doin' it easy mode style here.</div>
</div>
Afnielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00536421834404776530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3923307284561366906.post-53300156486251293652011-10-08T16:48:00.000-07:002011-10-08T16:49:50.634-07:00interlude: GMPCs<b>Awesome, Acceptable, or Asdfjkl;?</b><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I lied. The next post in the series will be up tomorrow, but in the meantime, have a few thoughts that are near and dear to my gaming heart. By this I mean the oft-abused tool of the GMPC.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Raise your hand if this has happened to you: there you are, adventuring merrily in your setting of choice with your ragtag group of compatriots, when suddenly an NPC embroils him or herself into your ranks like some Clingy McGuffin with a character sheet. It is at this point that many gamers would probably chuck a Monster Manual at the GM's head, if it weren't for the fact that said GM provided this week's pizza.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This is probably the most common scenario when an NPC crosses that dreaded line to become a GMPC. Why do these characters cause such foaming at the mouth, anyway? Is there a use for them other than cannon fodder and pack mule? Should they just never happen, or can they be not only acceptable, but even liked?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<a name='more'></a>The biggest danger of the GMPC is that by nature they are a waste of spotlight. The players want to be active, they want to be the protagonists, and they want to be the ones that accomplish the great feats that challenge them. If this weren't the case they would find some other, less-dramatic use of their time. Your players might upstage each other a bit and jockey for the spotlight, and that's alright. Will they appreciate you the GM, with your godlike control over the story, stealing the spotlight? Probably not! You're already the Game <i>Master</i>. You create the spotlight; you point it at will. If Will is your own character, this leaves the party watching you play a roleplaying game all by yourself and not sharing your toys.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Don't do this.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Even worse is the GM who decides to resurrect their Favorite Character Ever from another campaign as a GMPC. Giddy with power, they Mary Sue it up, making the campaign all about Their Super Awesome Guy and the other characters that just sort of orbit him helplessly.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Extra-special-recipe don't do this.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
GMPCs should be considered tools. Not extensions of the GM's ego, not even Their Awesome Guy they used to play. Like any other part of the game, they should serve a clear purpose and get out of the way when they're not serving that purpose. If your players find their new partymate objectionable, write him or her out, and find some other way to fill the gap. Adding a few useful items to help smooth over the role that a GMPC would otherwise take is a viable method with the added benefit of letting the players find a few extra Shiny Goodies; just don't go overboard. Less directly, you might increase the party's access to services that a GMPC might provide; you could also tweak your plans such that those services aren't so vital to success.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But let's say, for conversation's sake, that you are hellbent on including a GMPC, and that your group has promised not to disown you if you don't muck it all up. To be credible the GMPC must be equally affected by misfortune, equally able to make mistakes, and equally able to look really, really stupid sometimes -- maybe even a little moreso than the party members themselves, though making them too far behind the curve will create a burden, and then you have a completely different problem. You will have a very fine line to walk between the two sides of the GM screen in order to play an appropriately-balanced character, and you should be extra responsive to player criticisms and feedback to keep that balance.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
If your group is smaller than average, a GMPC can take care of unwanted party roles (besides that of Carrier Of Stuff, Emergency Food Source, or Extra Meatwall). As an example, if everyone wants a healer to come with them on a long-term basis but nobody wants to actually play said healer, you could add a GMPC with the wished-for skillset to the group. More fleshed-out than a simple generic statblock but not quite as powerful as a player character, such an addition might provide the occasional plot hook. This could work for any role in the party, as long as that role isn't the only role that can 'win' in a given situation. The GM's hacker needs the rest of the party to cover her while she tries to power down the electric fences. The GM's spellcaster's abilities can't affect the group of attacking monsters, but they can bolster their allies' strength. Give the party an equally vital and interesting conflict to resolve, even if the GMPC is 'on point' so to speak...or just avoid situations like this altogether.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There may be a time or two that the GMPC ends up with the spotlight completely legitimately, whether through the players handing it over (unlikely but remotely possible) or the dice decreeing it to be so. In general, use it, then pass it on. If it's something that the players really, really should be doing themselves (performing a killing blow against the BBEG, for example), you might consider fudging your roll. The biggest, badassest victories should in principle belong to the players.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In an interaction-heavy group, a GMPC might provide something social to the players: a friend, a family member, a lover, a rival. With a deeply plot-immersion-centric gaming group the GMPC, if played well, might be accepted as just another party member. Sure, it's not common, but it can happen. Some groups may have difficulty relating to a GMPC in this manner, however, for the simple fact that they share an actor with every other NPC and event in the world. If you happen to be playing online, you might wish to keep your GMPC separate from your GM self. Multiple chat client accounts or using different text formatting on a forum can give your players a visual way to tell you and your character apart.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I will be the first to say that I actually quite like GMPCs, despite having had some truly awful experiences with them. At one point in a campaign I was running, the party had as many as three GMPCs in residence in various capacities, four if you count that one of my players was transitioning into a sort of co-GM position. (One of these capacities was 'incapacitated,' but still.) It was a huge chore to balance and we did see fit to get rid of two of them for a long while, but by being very careful not to step on anyone's toes, we were able to essentially have our cake and eat it too. Granted, this is an extreme example and pretty out of hand! Our group at the time was very character-focused and willing to interact with them as though they were regular player characters -- most gaming groups would probably not put up with quite so many sockpuppets. That said, I feel that the GMPC can be a very powerful tool when used appropriately. I've thrown up a lot of general guidelines which I hope can help if you find yourself one way or another with a GMPC on your hands. Happy gaming!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">I have had great success, by the way, in jumpstarting a dull plot moment by stabbing a well-liked GMPC just off-camera. I highly recommend this method if all else is failing.</span></div>
Afnielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00536421834404776530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3923307284561366906.post-52552724000738476342011-10-07T09:24:00.000-07:002011-10-07T12:38:28.225-07:00right where we left off<b>Top-Down Worldbuilding, Part Deux: Phenomenal Cosmic Power</b><br />
<br />
Yesterday we kickstarted things with the beginning of a discussion on setting-building concepts and caveats. Today we pick it up again with the middly bits: the first broad strokes and general decisions that will turn your vague idea into a still-vague but developing world of its own. Let's get right back into it with some discussion on power sources and cosmology and watch the dust settle into something a little less like a stick figure and a little more like a rough draft.<br />
<br />
Mind the jump.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>So there you are, with your shiny new idea, all formed and ready to go. ...Well, not quite. There's quite a bit of work between now and playability, but don't let that put you off; this is my favorite part.<br />
<br />
You probably have a fair idea of how much 'power' is available in your world. By 'power' in quotes, I mean just that: power, the kind that people would fight and die over. Be it magic, technology, alchemy, cute-monster-taming, mental ki, bound demons, psychic powers, earnest prayers, or extremely spicy chili, your world may have at least one source of some kind of unusual power. It's perfectly reasonable, too, to say that your world has none of this silliness, and real power is gained through political alliances, or having the largest vein of iron ore under your feet, or living on a good, deep, broad shipping river, or knowing how to make fire. But these, too, are sources of power. Is your world high-power (magic is common; powerful technology is widely available; most people at least have some ESP; wealth is easy to obtain), low-power (magic is rare and comparatively less flashy; most people don't have much access to technology besides the essentials; psychics are so uncommon as to be feared and disbelieved; most live in poverty and servitude), or somewhere in between?<br />
<br />
Given that you are designing a setting to be used as a roleplaying tool, power and its availability are going to have a massive impact on the mechanics of the game. If you decree that (for example) your Earth refugees in their scattered colonies have only low access to technology, due to having lost the majority of their scientists and engineers responsible for creating and understanding said technology, then you may not even need external opponents to create interesting conflict: your setting is antagonistic enough and your characters sufficiently powerless that you could easily spend a campaign simply trying to find the tools needed to survive. Using the same setting but a very high level of available power, introducing an outside threat would likely be necessary to build the same level of conflict and tension -- leaky walls and lack of fuel pose no real problems to a society with force field generators and cold fusion cells.<br />
<br />
For Treeworld, I went again for middly-high: magic pervades everything as a sort of background radiation, and low-level spellcasters were generally accepted in even the most backwater of locales. Magical creatures were simply adapted to make use of the magic that was already present in the world*, and occasionally there were natural outpourings of magical power such as springs with strange effects. In large cities, magic was institutionalized as in the standard D&D assumption into divine temples to various gods and academies in which the arcane was taught. As a matter of setting feel preference, and not wanting to learn a pile of extra rules with which to answer player questions, I decreed by GM fiat that psionics were right out, as well as incarnum (too weird) and the Book of Weeaboo Fightan Magic (occasionally known as Tome of Battle, and too unbalanced).<br />
<br />
Feel free to include or outlaw whatever makes sense. Your players might talk you back into it later, or a variation on it that does thematically fit, but at this point it's still all yours. Changes that dramatically alter game balance do deserve some consideration, however. For example, if your Game System of Choice allows for instantaneous healing through some supernatural means, and you decide that your world doesn't have those means, you're going to have a considerably higher character mortality rate. This could be a good thing, however, if you're trying to paint a grim and desperate picture. If that isn't your and your group's goal, consider very carefully before you go in changing a core assumption of the system like this. It can be a great way to shake things up and add some interest and maybe tension, or a great way to cause players to throw down their sheets in frustration.<br />
<br />
You might at this junction want to have a look at your world's cosmology. As you probably know, D&D assumes a default plane, the Material Plane, with a bunch of other elemental planes, and an astral plane, and an ethereal plane, and a shadow plane, and all these different heavens, and a bunch of different hells, and demi-planes, and optional other little fiddly planes, and and and...I was having none of that. It didn't suit me, and I didn't want to play with there being a specific, somewhat Judeo-Christian heaven and hell system, so I scrapped the whole lot. There were now only three: the material, ethereal, and shadow planes. Any gods or sufficiently powerful beings that were around could create their own little realm, but reality was wobbly and could only sustain so many pockets and poke-holes before getting upset with life. Good enough. This rendered a number of spells and abilities mostly pointless, but it was a fine trade-off for some simplification.<br />
<br />
A cosmology doesn't have to be A Real Thing That Is A Thing like D&D 3.5e's plane system. It could instead be simply the way people perceive the universe as working. Real-world cosmology once dictated that the Earth stood still and the stars and planets revolved around it, embedded in crystalline celestial spheres, floating in quintessence. It might come in the form of a creation story, or a philosophy. Since I was dabbling about in middly-high fantasy, it made sense to include as part of the cosmology a pantheon of gods, which I did, focusing mostly on personifying natural or implacable forces.<br />
<br />
You can do this as orthodoxly or as out of the lines as you like. Every gaming ruleset is different, giving you all kinds of ways to buck the system if you so choose. I thumbed my nose just a little at tradition and made the most powerful two gods chaotic good (spontaneous creation) and lawful evil (inevitable decay). The rest fell in as being somewhere between animist spirits and Greco-Roman divinities in personality and interaction. While I had a perfectly serviceable Yggdrasil, I wasn't really into the idea of running a game based off the Norse mythos and so avoided giving it that feel.<br />
<br />
If you're inventing a religious/divine system for your game setting, you might wish to do a little bit of homework. It doesn't have to be much -- I don't generally advocate using Wikipedia as a primary source but hey, this is hardly an academic work. Do some light reading on various world religions and major cultural stories; see if any of them interest you. There's nothing less than an incredible cache of ready ideas there. You might look into the work of Carl Jung and his ideas on archetypes, such as the Hero's Journey I mentioned in the previous post. There's a wealth of iconic figures there waiting to be mined.<br />
<br />
But hey, if that aspect isn't going to be a big deal, or doesn't exist in your world, skip it. (That goes for almost everything I say here, by the way.)<br />
<br />
That's it for today; we've got a sort-of-working world and general cosmology in which it exists, as well as some idea of what kinds of powers are available to its inhabitants. Tomorrow we're going to have a closer look at those inhabitants and loosely sketch in their details.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">* After coming up with this whole magic-as-background-radiation thing, I had a player join who wanted to play a warlock, but couldn't stand the whole fluff about having made demonic pacts and all that moody BS. So we agreed that in this world, it was entirely possible that warlocks were another sort of magical creature, adapted to be able to see and naturally interact with this magic stuff flowing all around them. Not that this stopped the general populace from believing they were monsters...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Point being, even a slight change in flavor text can bring about some interesting ideas.</span>Afnielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00536421834404776530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3923307284561366906.post-89523621747419153312011-10-06T10:33:00.001-07:002011-10-06T16:19:29.340-07:00starting with a bang<b>Top-Down Worldbuilding, Part the First: The Concept</b><br />
<br />
Ladies and gentlemen, orks and elves, halflings and...whatever that thing in the corner is...I'm Afniel, this is Chaotic Awesome!, and I am going to kick this blargh off with a bang. A big bang. Let's talk about making worlds.<br />
<br />
While creating the setting is hands-down my favorite part of being a GM, it's a daunting task. In this series of articles I'm going to explain how I tend to approach it, from the beginning concept of what the world is like all the way through to the finer details of resources, power centers, and various cultures -- and most importantly of all, what these things mean for your game.<br />
<br />
Let's begin.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>The first thing that you will need to decide is simple: What kind of game do you want to play? I say play, not run, for the simple reason that (in my humble experience) you will find it much easier to be enthusiastic about building up what is to you the 'perfect' game, and players can sense that kind of enthusiasm. It's contagious.<br />
<br />
There are two ways of looking at this. You may have a genre in mind: high fantasy, spaghetti western, space opera, gothic horror...the list goes on. But you know what you like. Run with it. At this point in development, it doesn't matter how unlikely it sounds (though you may want to take into consideration what system you're going to be using to experience it). Nobody is reading through your notes. If they are, punch them! That's just rude.<br />
<br />
For these articles I'm going to be using as an example a setting that I and my players created and subsequently have spent over a hundred sessions exploring, using D&D's 3.5 edition rules. As a result of a strange mental trainwreck between a ridiculous song somebody had sent me and the rather obscure, huge-tree-centric NES game Faxanadu being played dangerously nearby at the same time, I decided that I wanted my setting to be mid-high-ish fantasy, its most prominent feature being an enormous Yggdrasil-like world tree. Your setting could be, quite literally, anything. A destroyed Earth, its survivors clinging to its debris in little colonies? Awesome. A sprawling, primeval forest, whose pools and fog hide fey passages to twilight realms? I'd play it. An underwater setting populated by merfolk, oppressed by two-legged 'monsters' from the shore? Go nuts.*<br />
<br />
While you are going nuts, however, there is another consideration to keep in the back of your mind. How much are your players willing to go out of their way to learn in order to feel connected to the setting? Sure, you can make a completely alien game, in which insectile characters fly biological ship-animals through the non-Euclidean spaces between universes, but you're likely to have at least one player in your group look at it sideways and find it a bit too out there. There should, ideally, be at least some element of the familiar in your overall design. The odds are just a little slim that your players would have the time, energy, or interest to read your dissertation on the complicated social structures and pheromone-based negotiation rituals of your fictional race.<br />
<br />
On the flip side of that same coin, you could make a world of meadows, fields, and forests, with castles that overlook small kingdoms, in which dragons kidnap princesses and princes kiss fair maidens to break curses placed upon them by bad witches. Sure, everyone knows the status quo here. It's so well-known a trope that one barely even has to bother describing the scenery. And yet, the familiarity in this example is stifling. There are no surprises to be had whatsoever.<br />
<br />
The thing I have found in trying to keep this balance is that there are two ways about this. You can create the familiar with a twist. Sure, it's a Standard Fairytale Kingdom on the surface, but the fair and just king himself is a dragon in disguise, the princess went with the evil wizard willingly, and the heroes just keep happening to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. (It doesn't have to be comedic, of course, but this technique makes for excellent satire and comedy games.)<br />
<br />
Alternately, you can create a twist with a hint of the familiar. Those outer realm-traversing insects could be very human in personality and have set out on the classic Hero's Journey, overcoming great odds to reach self-understanding and defeat a great evil. Countless of our classic speculative fiction works -- Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, American Gods, among others -- and even ancient stories like the Epic of Gilgamesh all tell this single, essentially human story. The skin of the world you create may be bizarre, but its bones are prehistoric.<br />
<br />
Our example, the Tree of the World, is fairly easy to grasp, if a little grander in scale than we usually see. To scale it back down a bit and really focus the action on this Tree, capital T, I decided that it would be ringed as far as the eye can see by the Desert, capital D, which nobody could enter due to its life-draining quality. In that same vein I obscured the top of it with the Storm, capital S. (Feel free to be a little more creative than all that.) Why did the Desert do that? Where did a constant Storm come from? Meh! Those are questions for another day. The in-world reasoning can always follow the logistics later -- and indeed, both of these things ended up being key plot points to be discovered by the players.<br />
<br />
That's it for now. Tune in next time and we'll go over the first broad details of your world, and how to decide what they are.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">* Upon re-reading this list, I realize that I made each of these settings pretty adversarial. Conflict can of course come from anywhere, not necessarily the setting, but games can thrive on the tension of trying to survive in dangerous surroundings with equally-dangerous opponents breathing down your neck. If you and your group want to play Baby's First Kingdom, however, by all means don't let me talk you out of it.</span>Afnielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00536421834404776530noreply@blogger.com0