Thursday, October 14, 2021

Beyond the Cardboard Game World

Before having any possibility of comprehending an NPC's motivations, we've simply got to free ourselves from the ludicrous, narrow, flimsy story-development that pretends to operate as a "game world."  For that, let's look again at the mystery novel — and by extension, ANY story.

It doesn't matter if we're talking of Frederic Dannay's Ellery Queen, Agatha Christie's Miss Marple or Mickey Spillane's Mike Hammer.  Even if the novel runs into a hundred thousand words, the amount of world that has to be created is pitifully small.  We need a train, an Egyptian resort, a library or a conservatory; a few street corners, a shop maybe; or an empty highway at night.  We don't need to explain any of this!  At most, we give the name of the house owner and maybe how he made his money; but these are a few fleeting paragraphs that provide no hard details about anything except the character's relation to it.  We don't need to set our novel in the whole country of Egypt; a few set-pieces will do as a stand-in.  And while the train needs porters and engineers, or the house needs servants, or the dirty side of town needs some hoods and cops, none of this needs to be meaningfully researched and portrayed.  In fact, it doesn't remotely need to be accurate, in any sense.  If the reader is told that Luxor is in the city of Karnak, the number of readers who actually know that "Luxor" was an ancient city and that Karnak is a temple doesn't actually matter, because most readers are dead ignorant and it's not going to hurt our sales.  In the framework of the book, Karnak serves as a city name as well as any other "Egyptian-sounding" word.  John Oliver's been pointing this out for years.  As far as the book's story goes, it changes nothing.

This habit is exactly reflected in D&D:  we need a town, a dungeon, a road between the town and the dungeon, a few necessary shops, some kind of faction that wants to overthrow something, a villain, a wiseman ... and there, we're pretty much done.  The "story" that gets pitched as "the thing" needn't have too many characters or place names, because they're hard to remember and anyway, they all look alike.  In a novel, even if we want two different planets, such as Arrakis and Caladan, it's easy enough to declare both have homogenous geographies and cultures — which we need only describe with regards to exactly those things that apply to the story — even though the only planet we actually know has neither a homogeneous geography or a homogeneous culture.  But hey, it's the future.  Of course that's how it shakes out.  After all, our knowledge of the future amounts to nil.

Since we know it's "impossible" to create a game world, because it's too much work, we can see how the shrinking straightjacket of the "story campaign" grossly simplifies the DM's workload.  If the gameworld is as narrow as a set of railroad tracks, we only need a train station, enough roads to hold a carriage, a hotel and thus an action scene ... before returning to the station to get on to the next town.  As a DM, I have to create very few things.  In fact, I don't have to "create" the station, since we know what a station looks like.  The hotel is memory-banked too.  It's all familiar.  As far as the rest, the town might as well be the set-up that fools Mongo and Hedley's goons ... which, point of fact, is a movie satirizing weak Hollywood storytelling, something lost amidst the adoration of fart jokes.

Even when a DM prances and struts about, talking about the cool stories in their game world, it's a STAGE they're running, with cardboard houses and cardboard people ... it makes perfect sense to give them black-and-white character traits like "all watchmen are bad," "beggers rob foreigners" and the like.  It's an eensie-weensie bit removed from "immigrants are rapists" and "people from shit-hole countries."  These are the stories that "work" with the masses.  The countries look like shit-holes on the news because we pick the camera angles that make the story simple.  The news shows us how superior and exceptional we are, which supports the argument that foreigners want "our stuff."  The houses have one side.  It's enough for a "story."

Therefore, when I say we want a "game world," I mean doing more than inventing a plausible reason for players to visit a set piece, which we paint up real pretty and hang with combat opportunities and treasure.  And let's have it understood: apart from conceiving the game in terms of whom the party meets, and where they go, most DMs have no clue what I'm talking about.  Everything past "person," "place" and "conflict" is a total fucking mystery.  And this is why I'm calling this series of posts right now "The Other D&D."  

To address this mystery, I'll start with a traditional source, one that won't get me in trouble:

"When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton.

"Bilbo was very rich and very peculiar, and had been the wonder of the Shire for sixty years, ever since his remarkable disappearance and unexpected return.  The riches he had brought back from his travels had now become a local legend, and it was popularly believed, whatever the old folk might say, that the Hill at Bag End was full of tunnels stuffed with treasure.  And if that was not enough for fame, there was also his prolonged vigour to marvel at.  Time wore on, but it seemed to have little effect on Mr. Baggins.  At ninety he was much the same as at fifty.  At ninety-nine they began to call him well-preserved; but unchanged would have been nearer the mark.  There were some that shook their heads and though this was too much of a good thing; it seemed unfair that anyone should possess (apparently) perpetual youth as well as (reputedly) inexaustible wealth.

" 'It will have to be paid for,' they said.  'It isn't natural, and trouble will come of it.' "


On first reading, this is certainly about Bilbo, a person about whom you've never heard.  But knowing Bilbo as we do, it's equally clear that this paragraph is also about the people who aren't Bilbo.  It gives us a very clear idea of what this "Hobbiton" is like — and it's a place not unfamiliar.  The people are rather plodding and filled with simple minded platitudes; while they can recognize a detail when they see it, they haven't the imagination, even in a world filled with magic, to imagine what Bilbo's nature is or where it comes from.  They are sure they're getting the short end of the stick; and equally sure that in the end, everyone does — otherwise, it's hard to reconcile one's stick-handle.

Note also that while a consequence is expected, there's no hint of an action that ought to be taken.  There isn't for paragraph after paragraph, except perhaps a feeling that Frodo, at 33, ought to take a wife.  We learn all about the various persons in Hobbiton and their opinions of Bilbo and Frodo, but nothing whatsoever is suggested of an "adventure."  Why would it be?  None of the people in Hobbiton, except for Bilbo, have any inkling of such a thing — and Bilbo only does because he was pulled off down a road many years before and he wants to return to a place he's been.

I'm saying that when we create a setting, we don't create motives for the players with it.  If the players were to enter Hobbiton, such as we readers of the story do, they would meet a bunch of farmers; and hear a bunch of rumours, all of which were about what a queer fellow this Bilbo is and none of which would suggest the least adventure.  And if the players were to meet Bilbo, thinking he represented an adventure, they would find very, very little there, indeed.

Do remember that the first part of the novel covers a space of twelve years ... years of conjecture, of watching Frodo grow older and listening to the town's folk talk.  If the reader is thinking, "Ah, but then Gandalf shows up," consider if the player characters happen across the town when Bilbo is only 106.  What then?  The most powerful ring in the world is in Bilbo's possession, but how would anyone know?

Exactly.

Tolkein is interested in getting on with the story, and does in his good time ... but before then, he's also interested in describing a world in which other stories can take place.  He carefully crafts the town and its environs, introduces rumours of dwarves and Gandalf visiting Bilbo, cleverly building the setting between the chattering of the townsfolk.  We get a sense of these people as they tell "stories" ... but none of these stories have arcs.  They're gossiping.  They're not building quests.

If the PCs get it in their heads to visit Bilbo, then it's their idea, not the setting-maker's.  Just as it's up to the reader to turn the page and go on reading.  The writer won't do it for you.  Oh, we'll entice you, work on your curiousity, build up the habit of your turning pages ... but it's still an action that you perform.  And as you do, you learn.

Now, when Agatha tells you about the Orient Express, she tells you virtually nothing.  She doesn't care if you ever get on that train.  She may mention a few details, but they'll be fleeting because, hey, the cravat or boots of this or that possible murderer is what really matters.  In all truth, "Oriental Express" sounds romantic.  It has no more bearing on the plot than the "mysterious-sounding" and yet utterly forgettable town names the train rolls through as the mystery is solved.

Cultivating players from traditional D&D into the Other D&D begins first with introducing them to a game world where the residents and the day-to-day goings on matter.  Where conversations with the locals tend to be about tangible local things; their lives, the local gossip, things beyond their ken, troubles they can't manage, their worries about the season's food supply and so on.  But under that, all the things they know but they don't say.  The stories they don't tell.  At least, not until they trust.  Until then, it's business as usual: grow the crops, fish the sea, haul this or that to town, open the shop, respect the strong, prey on the weak.  And hide everything the party wishes they could know about.

Initially, without experiencing it, this seems a hard game to sell.  But in fact, as you add more and more details, teaching the players where they are and how things work, the tactile sensations and descriptions gather and take shape.  As these NPCs who have no game agenda become familiar and fundamental to the experience, the players grow fond of them; the PCs become concerned for their well-being.  They become an entity worth fighting for — beyond the simple motivations of rushing to enrich themselves.  With time, the players either put down roots, or they move on ... but somehow, moving on through a world that's constantly full of description and people doing something fruitful becomes wearying.  The panoply of rambling seems empty and fruitless compared to the possibility of building something permanent.

For a person who rambles in the real world, this is very hard to understand.  In the real world, it's very hard to build anything.  It's hard to get a stake, to risk the pleasure of eating, to risk losing everything that's invested ... which is why many of us never feel inclined.  But D&D has far less of a downside; and where it comes to fantasy, the possibility of doing something great, which we know we'll never do in real life, has an appeal all its own.

There's no appeal in building something in a game world that is all false-fronts and empty cardboard husks.  There's no fondness for meaningless placenames and expositional characters.  There's just "do the next thing," like working on an assembly line where someone else gets to play with the toys being assembled.  True enough, traditional D&D is better than a lot of things.  But it falls far, far short in enabling players to do things that matter.

We'll talk more of this, digging deeper into how a world that educates players cultivates better players.

10 comments:

  1. I am thinking of a new rumor table for the early modules:

    Roll a d8:

    1. Farmer Brown’s younger son is the one who put the tailor’s daughter “in a family way”

    2. The butcher is selling rat meat as chicken

    3. The Grant sisters, who live out by Harrow Wood, never married because they both fell in love with the same soldier boy who died in foreign parts

    4. Despite what he says, Ed the smith’s son knew that mule was dangerous before he sold it to the Widow Perue. It kicked her in the head the next morning and killed her. Now, he owns her farm.

    5. Weather’s going to be bad this winter

    6. The weather will be mild this winter

    7. The world is going to end before we reach winter, according to Parson Fitzgibbons

    8. What? That old castle? We don’t go there, or, talk about it. Good night to you, stranger.

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  2. I would add to that that a world that seeks to educate players will, in turn, educate DMs. Because they should be pushing the DM to expand his knowledge.

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  3. Mmm.Mmmm.

    This goes back to your world building advice in How to Run, which I found so daunting years back.

    I get the idea of not doing cardboard cutouts. I understand not doing "biz as usual" with handing out quests at the local tavern. But not creating adventure hooks at all? Just building one's world and then letting the players tool around in it, looking for stuff to do, until they're finally ready to "put down roots?"

    Um...

    I think (maybe) that I part ways with you philosophically at this point. And, yeah, maybe I'm just too stuck in my own mental paradigm.

    - with regard to play urges to build something in the fantasy world and THEN as a DM, YES I am cool with that, BUT
    - giving them NO option EXCEPT finding their own joy (even or especially as low-level characters) is a bridge too far for me.

    You've got this group of players. Each has a class, etc. They're together for [who cares why] reasons. They are looking for "adventure:" treasure, glory, whatever. You give out a few adventure hooks for them to pursue...so that they can discover how they work together, so they can figure out their group dynamic, so they can establish a group identity/personality in the game world. Only after THAT do they start to figure out what (original) agendas they wish to pursue...separately or together.

    I just have a really hard time saying: "Okay, you guys are in Karnak. What do you want to do?" right from the get-go. Again this comes back to the whole goddamn mustard farmer thing: I signed up to play a wizard/ranger/whatever. I did not choose "mustard farmer" as my class. D&D is a fantasy adventure game and I want to pursue some fantasy adventure...swinging a sword and shield or whatever.

    Building something, anything, in the real world IS challenging, and even when it fails, you still gain the experience from trying...not experience POINTS but a real world experience that you can use to tell interesting anecdotes OR build upon and learn from and use in your next real world challenge. And when your "RW building" succeeds, you have something to show for it: a business, a book, a marriage, a family, a reputation, a community, whatever.

    But as a D&D PLAYER, this action of "building" is soooo secondary an objective to the reason I'm sitting at the table. As a DM...well, I guess I'm a shitty DM. Because I'd rather create interesting adventure sites and hooks for players to choose to explore (or to choose NOT to explore) then simply build an imaginary environment of surpassing detail and then give them NOTHING BUT the ultimatum: it's YOUR choice, folks. Figure out what YOU want to do in Karnak. 'Cause all *I* have for you is Karnak. Have fun.

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    Replies
    1. I don't know, I feel like when Alexis says that, he means you don't need to present adventure hooks like candy at a store. Hide some of the hooks, make the players get to know a place before people start telling them what they actually care about.

      I also disagree with your seeming belief that building something cannot lead to interesting fantasy adventure. Even the OD&D and AD&D writers thought it could, otherwise why the weak attempt at rules about keeps?

      "Monster of the week" adventuring gets stale fast.

      Giving your players some skin in the game seems like a good thing! It leads to more interesting decisions. Well, to be blunt, decisions I care more about adjudicating.

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  4. You jump to the most fascinating conclusions, JB. You certainly don't care for end-post phrases like "We'll talk more about this ..." as clearly you know my every intention here.

    Though I don't say, "Give them no hooks at all," you're able to create that conclusion from nowhere ... which is profound, since I've written only a dozen posts on creating hooks. Now, either you think I'm burning those to the ground with this post, or you've forgotten they ever existed. Sometimes, JB, you have the memory of a goldfish.

    Hm. Never said I was giving them "no options" except to find their own joy - and that last, I've gotta say, sounds like a GOOD thing. Their "own joy"? Wow, what a monster I am. Fuck. I'm really putting it to the players, aren't I? At least, I would be if I said anything like you're claiming I've said.

    Your argument that starts, "You've got this group of players ..." and proceeds into player agendas ... um. Perhaps - and clearly you've not given it a thought - "cultivate" means teaching them to discover working together; or figuring out their dynamic; or establishing a group identity; so they don't have to do it all on their own. But hey, you know better. You already know, before I've written the next post, that this is DEFINITELY not what I'm talking about here.

    I get the resistance. But I'm trying to explain that your perspective of "fantasy adventure" is childish, overproduced and BORING. So very fucking boring. The hobby machine has had nearly 50 years to sell me this "swinging a sword and shield" horseshit as an end in itself. I'm trying to knock it into your thick head that as AN END IN ITSELF, the fantasy is empty and dull as ditchwater.

    No one is trying to take away your sword and shield! I'm only trying to get you to pick it up and enter a fantasy scape where what you do MATTERS past the facility you have for rolling dice and scratching numbers. The notion of fighting for a PURPOSE. You. Don't. Get. That. I. Understand. But you're not the only fucking reader here. And a lot of people are really, really bored with your stupid, facile, "I'm an adventurer and I want to adventure" blathering nonsense.

    I get there's a lot who aren't. There are MILLIONS who are absolutely happy to play the game your way. At least, until they quit in the next three years to be replaced by the next crowd. But some of us want to move on. To something a little better.

    You don't want to do that; you don't want to be a part of that; you don't want to lift your head out of the muck, hey, don't feel the need. You're welcome.

    But sell your shit somewhere else, okay?

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  5. You're right. I'm making assumptions.

    You're right ALSO that simply running fantasy adventures (serial dungeon-delving, whatever you want to call it) is "dull" and "empty" ...or certainly becomes so once the novelty wears off. Totally agree.

    I don't think I'm saying that "I know better." I'm saying that...hmm. What am I saying?

    Okay, look. I've had a single experience playing in your world. I did a crap job of it and was an asshole to boot. So, fuck, I'm an asshole player and have a shitty perspective on how to play this damn game.

    I've run (non-D&D) games that were wide open, find your own joy, do what the fuck you want. Players went eight different directions (literally...there were eight players). But that wasn't D&D: in D&D players need to cooperate, or else they die.

    [which you know...I'm not saying you don't!]

    You want your adventures fighting for a "purpose." Okay, fine, nice. I like that, too. But I want them fighting for each other first. And I'm NOT making an assumption that you aren't going to say, "me too." I'm saying that I want that to come before trying to "build" anything. And the best way to do that (I've found) is by providing the PCs some adventure. Yes, the 50-year old, boring-as-shit trope. "Jeopardy always works" kind of thing.

    And maybe you're going to say something like that with your next post...I'm not making an assumption that you are or aren't. I'm reading, I'm commenting. My comment was meant to say: "Just building a world ain't sufficient for me." But that was in regard to this post. I intend to read your next post and see what it says. Which may elicit a different comment (sentiment) from me.

    I'm really not trying to jump to any conclusions.

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  6. I'm not answerable for what other wide open games did. I'd be willing to bet the players in those games went eight different directions because the DMing was for shit, not because they were "open." I see no reason why because someone else did something else for some other reason, I'm accountable. You make that argument a lot, JB.

    Players won't fight for each other until they're all fighting for something bigger than they are. Your ranking logic is garbage.

    Players "build" something the moment they buy from an equipment list. You don't get that, either. It's your definition of "build" that's got you bolluxed, not my use of the term.

    "Fear" and "anxiety," the things I've written about, are not "jeopardy." Once again, you pull a different word for what I'm saying out of your ass, equate it to what I'm saying ... and then invent an argument for why what I DIDN'T SAY is wrong. There's a term for that kind of argument. Maybe I've forgotten what that term is, maybe I haven't.

    I'm not "just" building a world. Maybe "just" is a bullshit word you've attached on your own. Maybe you have to add these extraneous, inaccurate words to diminish what other people do. I have written THREE MILLION WORDS on what gaming is and how to do it, and I have never, ever, remotely, in any universe, made an argument that RUNNING is accomplished with "just" building a world. When the fuck are you going to realize that your own words are the crippling disease that makes you say stupid things?

    Try "not" jumping to conclusions by "not" making them.

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  7. I'm very intrigued by this "Other D&D" idea. Can't wait to read more.

    Also, thanks for the "ditchwater" tidbit--I didn't know that was the original phrase.

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  8. For anyone having trouble with direction in a open fully realized world, I'd suggest go back and read the 2013 blogpost: The Opening Module.

    https://tao-dnd.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-opening-module.html

    I feel it quite effectively lays out many of the different ways a PC party can find adventure without hooks being flaunted in their faces.

    Another thing that Alexis has mentioned, though I can't provide a handy link to exactly when and I'm paraphrasing and not a direct quote, is that his job is to have an adventure where ever the players decide to go. Less deliberate hooks and just a world with plenty of opportunity for adventure. If the players just pick a random direction and start walking, in a few days (or maybe even hours) of travel, something interesting will be tossed across their field of vision.

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