Worldbuilding 4e: Immer

This is a good time to talk about resources and distribution.  If we're designing a fantasy world, and we care about such things, its good to know from where comes the gold, the iron, the building stone and the gems in our world ... if only because these things give different parts of the world a different character.  Anyone whose read sufficient history or played logistic world-based combat games knows that it matters which countries have iron and which are filled with horses.  It's fairly obvious which countries will produce the most fish, and probably the most wheat and rice ... but what about wine, incense, furs, silk and so on?  If we want prices for these things that will be familiar to earth-dwelling players, we'll want to manage the distribution for these things carefully.

I solved this problem by running the real world, then using real world production references to decide where things come from.  A fantasy world makes this much harder, particularly if the creator has next-to-no knowledge of geology, agriculture, biology, engineering or chemistry.  For example, in a medieval fantasy world, where does acid come from?  Is it hard to make?  What are the base materials?  Are those expensive?  How much acid can be "brewed" at one time and in what sort of containers?  Yes, glass probably, but how common is glassblowing in your game world?

The tendency of most equipment lists from various games and editions is to assume these things are, well, everywhere and convenient, so that shopping for items in the D&D world is like going to the local Walmart.  Nothing is ever scarce and while some things are more expensive, they're not prohibitively expensive for a well-funded player party.  But does this really make sense?  Was it as easy, in the 12th or 15th centuries, to buy, say, a 10 ft. pole in Egypt as it was in England?  How about in India?  Or Siberia?  And what would the pole be made of?  How easy is it to make a pole from a pine tree, as compared to an oak.  I live on a prairie; not a lot of oaks around here, but there are lots of poplar trees ... which, without treating, a sticky when split.  Do we want a 10 ft. pole made of poplar?

These things seem quibbling, but they make the difference between the players always having their way and the players being faced with inconvenience — which knocks them out of their comfort zones and forces them to find new ways of doing things.  Having to do without; having to "make do" with things they have ... these things build character and resolve.  They also reveal weak players in a group — those who can't keep from whining and moaning they can't have everything the way they want.

With this mini-series, I've stressed the importance of how addressing the setting's problems builds a campaign's trajectory.  Cleaning out a dungeon is one means; restoring a wrecked town, or building a settlement in the wilderness, or constructing a fort along a frontier are other ways the players can easily settle into an area and become good neighbours ... with the commensurate relationships that builds with the locals.  Providing reliable, practical goods and services is yet another example of this.  If an area has no mill for the farmers, then building a mill and running it makes friends.  It gets positive attention from the local lord.  It's a foundation to build upon, enabling the player's to receive commendations, status and ultimately the recognition that allows them to be promoted into the noble class.  We don't just start a mustard farm for the money.  We also do it because breaking the spine of the local corrupt mustard guild gives us the appearance of being good citizens — even if we're as corrupt as the guild we're replacing.

None of this solves the problem of where to put the resources.  It's a difficult problem with difficult solutions.   Occasionally, however, someone on the internet does some of the ground work.  Looking around, I came across this page, which my readers should find useful ... though it does require the DM to understand the location of things like volcanic plate boundaries, old vs. new mountain chains, the location of dried-up ancient seas, ocean currents and geological formations in general.  More of those "systems" I've stressed since the beginning of this series.  Without some base logic, the creator might as well roll randomly for things to occur ... which always creates a grey, continuous sludge of egalitarian distribution where anything is concerned.  Interest is built from discontinuity ... and using hundreds or thousands of die rolls only creates sameness, everywhere.

Okay, that said, let's look at Immer, within the whole of Minaria.

Immer's problems are different from those we've seen before.  The environment is quite different from that of Elfland, making it unattractive to the elves, while in turn Elfland is somewhat unattractive to Immer.  As I said before, Immer has no deep need to plunder wood from the forest, as it has no intense shipbuilding industry.

Immer's climate is continental and bleak ... more like the bald, northern steppe of Russia, or Canada's Alberta.  Earth for insulation and stone to contain heat and cut the wind are superior to wooden construction.  Fuels are peat, knotted wood and animal oils ... and large animals like caribou and moose will be common.  The land isn't forested, but would be up-and-down, with willows and buffalo brush in the low places.

Raw materials would likely drive the economy.  Lone Wirzor is 40 miles from the River Rapid, so that goods from there would be shipped in summer months down to Elfland; in winter, the river would freeze.  Castle Altarr has good access to The Invisible School of Thaumaturgy, with one corner of the Well of Lered poking into the Forest of Lurking and making a good transshipment point for goods headed towards Hothior.  Muscaster has good access to Lake Carth in Muetar ... and this last would probably be the strongest path for the import of foodstuffs and valuables into Immer.  Thus many of Immer's problems involve keeping these trade routes viable, ensuring imported food, and maintaining its very dangerous border with Zorn, the goblin kingdom to the east.

Zorn is, of course, another post ... but it's presence is an intrinsic part of Immer's make-up.  Withdrawn behind an impenetrable knot of mountains, it's practically impossible to conquer; even if the surface population could be eradicated, there are likely thousands of sub-surface communities, any of which could breed and reproduce the population of Zorn in a few generations.  Immer relies intrinsically upon a strong Muetar to maintain its frontier against Zorn; and Muetar relies as much upon Immer.  So long as Immer is strong, the balance between Immer and Zorn is more-or-less equal.  If the dam created by The Gap Castle and the fortified Choked in Snow Pass ever breaks, Muetar can come to Immer's rescue ... and Elfland too, in very desperate times, as Elfland surely does not want Immer utterly overrun with goblins.

As long as Immer is strong, Elfland can remain secure in its isolation, while Muetar can turn its attention to its real enemy: Hothior, which it must trade through in order to reach the greater community beyond the Sea of Drowning Men.  Immer, then, is everyone's friend.  They rely upon Immer's raw materials and unique goods, such as the quality woodwork produced by the Gorpin Woodsmen.  And because Immer is always at war with Zorn, the monarchy no doubt has a long history of military training and ideology.  Every young person in Immer knows the day will come when they will perform their time in Choked in Snow Pass; and every old one can recall their days in that place.  Mercenaries from Immer are stoic, ordered and made of iron.  Likely, tales of Immerian soldiers are told throughout Minaria ... in part, because not too many of their kind are seen.

Players in Immer may try their hand at eradicating goblin subterranean habitations in the western Nithmere Mountains, where Immer has authority.  They might foray into Zorn, preferably without starting a war.   They might extend Immer's influence further along the River Rapid, or deeper in the Wild Reaches, or the Frosted Downs west of Lone Wirzor.  They might bring valuables from elsewhere to Immer, where they are always appreciated.  A whole set of adventures could revolve around the School of Thaumaturgy's plans to strengthen Zorn, in order to bring down the Immerian Monarchy and establish themselves as rulers in Altarr.  I could make two years' of runnings on that, starting with hints and suggestions for a few weeks ... then the accumulation of proof through pinpoint adventures ... the difficult exposure of the School to the Monarch of Immer and the general public ... and then a series of events as the knowledge rocked the world, setting up the School's "Defenestration."  Oh yeah, I could make that campaign memorable.

A DM has to look at a piece of ground and see how it influences the thinking of the people there.  How do the people in the Lowlands, in Immer's southwest, view the School?  Negatively, in fear, or positively, because the School is occasionally generous and supportive in bad times?  How do these people view the monarchy in Castle Altarr, as opposed to the people living on the Frosted Downs?  How to the people of Muscaster view others from Lone Wirzor or Altarr?  How does Muscaster view Muetar?  As an entity to be exploited, or as a culture that they emulate?

Sorry for all these questions, but these are the things we must ask ourselves as we design the game world.  We need to know how each group thinks ... and devise interesting, individualistic perspectives for each place, for the players to run into and contend with.  We don't just want to make everywhere a xenophobic nightmare, or a super-effusive friendly honey trap designed to lure players to their death.  We want meaningful, believable characteristics, which together form a tapestry within the kingdom as well as outside it.  The monarchs of Immer must then make peace between its parts, ensuring that those of Gorpin and those from Muscaster can stand shoulder to shoulder for months in Choked in Snow Pass — which can't possibly be a pleasant place — without seeing each other as the enemy.  From what do we build solidarity, and what characteristics bar that solidarity?  These are two facets of world-making that challenges us.  We have to create the discontinuities ... and then solve those discontinuities, at least to some degree.

That's how we make the setting three-dimensional.