Bridges I Can Cross

It's been a very good week of writing, though admittedly not here on the blog.  Every day for the last week I've written a thousand words or more on the Streetvendor's Guide, so I feel back in the groove again, in a way I haven't been since March.  I've completed the first draft of the "Innkeeper" section, which runs twelve pages.  Seven varieties of lodging are described, with unique services and bedding down descriptions for each.  I've also outlined three kinds of tavern, with details regarding space and what might be served in each.  Throughout the section are brief notes that would surely be helpful if a player ever wanted to own an inn or tavern.

Today I started "cloth."  A better header might have been "textiles," but as a word it doesn't exist in English until the 1620s ... and I am doing my best to avoid anachronistic language when I can.  This isn't always possible, of course; the middle ages don't offer enough words of any kind to describe all that needs to be said in the book.  But when I can avoid a particular word or a phrase in the header, I do.

Still, I know what a bridge too far looks like, and met it today.  Here's part of the first draft, as I have it now:

Each kind of fabric represents a varying amount of thickness, softness, protectiveness or general luxuriousness. Luxury fabrics are harder to make, and are therefore more expensive. Also, particular fabrics serve better in some kinds of weather than others. A muslin shirt is much more comfortable in the tropics than one made of flannel. Thus the sort of garment a character wants to wear has much to do with the garment’s durability ... and that’s best described by the thickness of cloth.

In the cloth industry, fabric weight is measured in grams per square metre (GSM). I think in this particular case it’s best to stay with this anachronistic measurement, as it simplifies any searching for particular fabrics that we may wish to do. Translating the convenience of GSM into “ounces per square yard” would prove especially onerous, to the point where even I am ready to skip it.

I know there'll be some who read the above and say out loud, "Oh thank gawd."  I've argued on many occasions that D&D ought to observe medieval units of measure as much as possible, because they're difficult to remember and awful in design ... compared to metric.  I believe firmly that struggling with 12 pennies to the shilling (c.p. vs. s.p.) helps put a player in the frame of mind that a person of the period had, as they adapt their minds to the system, knowing the system won't adapt to them.  Of course I have my detractors on this point.  And of course I could be bloody-minded about translating the GSM to old units, replacing the ounce with "pennyweights" or "grains," which were used to measure tiny amounts.

What's lost, however, is being able to search the internet for the exact weight of cloth the player character might want.  As it is right now, I can search "How many GSM is Calico" and get the instant answer that calico is a medium-weight cotton cloth with a GSM of 165.  That's too convenient to ignore.

I hope — and am writing the book with this belief — that instead of being the final word in the cost of things, the Guide is a jumping off point for any player who wants to invest their time in asking the internet questions.  This practice fills much of my time in the writing process.  Since around 1998, I've been piling up a list of items to ask questions about ... and it is this work, and not the writing I'm doing today, that makes the book possible.  If I hadn't taken the time to build up a massive list of raw materials from which things could be made, I'd have no idea how to organise the material I'm writing now.

As an example, I meant to write a series of paragraphs today about how the price of a piece of clothing can be elaborated beyond such and such an amount of cloth per item.  I have a base price for silk, wool, cotton, linen and much more.  I have a basic amount of cloth that a piece of wardrobe needs (ask the internet how many yards of cloth it takes to make a shirt and you'll be given an answer).  But this isn't where the cost of clothing ends.

Double the GSM of a given cloth and we double the price.  Add dyestuffs to the cloth and we increase the price.  Increase the amount of cloth used, such as in making pleats, and we increase the price again. Add other kinds of cloth to the garment, like lace, and the price is increased further.  Embroider the cloth.  Use gold or silver thread to embroider.  Make the buttons of ivory or precious metal.  Weave beads, bubbles of glass or crystal, pearls or precious gems into the fabric with threads.  Now take all that and multiply the cost against the most prestigious dressmaker in the realm, or on the continent, or in all the world.  In the end, you have a single garment that costs more than what it takes to feed and arm a regiment for a year.

What's frightening is that with the system I've built these last twenty years, whatever you want to add to your garment, I can tell you what it costs ... without making up a single number.

And as it happens, the same garment will cost a different amount in London that what it might cost in Madrid, Damascus or anywhere.

The trick before me is to decide what's a bridge too far on this account.  I can't, not realistically, provide different numbers in the book for different places.  The Streetvendor's Guide has to apply to many game worlds run by individuals ... a baseline for some costs is necessary.  But I do wish to provide sufficient rules that if a player wants to create something elaborate in the way of dress, the Guide does include the fundamentals for calculating this.

If not for 20 years of back work, there'd be no way for me to do this.  But just now, as I move forward into cloth making and then clothes, I think I can see my way.  The language has to be just so.  As does the clarity over all.  But those things are overcome through writing and rewriting.

And they must be overcome ... because going forward into the book, virtually every other make of things works like clothing (which includes leather and furs).  It's wood after clothing, which includes furniture, fixtures, carriages, ships and housebuilding, each of which has its own facets that make a thing unique and expensive.  Wood is followed by stone, which is in great part about construction ... which, like clothing, can be made to taste.  This is followed by brick, pottery and glass, and thereafter by metalwork.  Metalwork is sure to be, by all accounts, the largest part of the book.

Much to do, much to do.  But at least food is, at last, entirely behind me.