I’ve had the ol’ boxed sets out recently, reading them to compare them to the games of today and to plan a bit of old-school fun. It’s amazing how complete these old games are while, at the same time, leaving a massive amount to the imagination. In particular, while reading the blue-box D&D Expert Set edited by David Cook and Steve Marsh, I came across this fantastic little example. If you want to follow along in your primer, class, I’m on p. X19.
EXAMPLE: [A buncha characters] decide to go on a journey to the city of Specularum.
There is no road that goes directly to Specularum, and none of the party has been there before. Theodorus tries to question some merchants, but finds their directions vague. Rothgar looks for a map showing the route, but without success. In the end, the party decides to hire a guide and two retainers. (As it turns out, the DM will allow only one retainer and the guide to be hired.)
If you can’t find a map, it’s because someone like you hasn’t yet made a map. You’re an entrepreneur!The example goes on a bit, mostly about supply logistics and travel times, but we have a lot to work with here. What a wealth of gameplay this both describes and offers! Looking at the example, what do we learn about the game world and how the rules are supposed to work?
- Well, first of all, the GM wields an absolute amount of power. “Only one local will hire on as your retainer” is a pretty simple statement, but it implies a similarly great amount. Is only one local capable? Are the locals superstitious about the trip? Are all the able-bodied retainers occupied elsewhere? Do the PCs have a shady reputation? What’s going on in this (presumed) town that has all of the work force tied up?
- There’s no map. Think about that. The PCs want to go to a city. Not some backwater thorp in a forgotten swamp at the end of the world, a full-on city. And they can’t find a map. That suggests that maps are valuable, which means that information is valuable, which means that information is scarce. The people in this village don’t reliably know how to get to this city, which means the PCs have only a general direction and are going to have to explore their way there. It gives me goosebumps.
- There’s not even a road. That’s magnificent. Many D&D spells, items, and abilities in editions 3.x and 4 are hand-waves, Volo’s Incantation of You-Get-There. In this vintage game, getting there was a great deal of the adventure. In this example, the PCs don’t even have the benefit of a path suggesting maybe the right direction. They have the only “vague” information yielded by the merchants (who are their own bundle of potential — who supplies their good, how frequently, from where, and what are those goods?) and the guide (who — yeah, he’s a wild card, too).
- And that doesn’t even touch upon why they’re headed to Specularum.
There’s always something else amazing out there to discover, rediscover, or solve. Oh, and Ivan Bilibin is a wonder.When I was developing tabletop Vampire, my intent was always to answer a question with another question, and this philosophy was very much influenced by my earliest experiences with hobby gaming. When you’re preparing a game for publication and sale, the answers are never as important as giving players new questions, showing gamemasters how to create new questions, and building the systems for both players and gamemasters to resolve those questions. When you’re printing a game commercially, it’s not about the story you want to tell — if you want a controlled narrative environment, write a short story or a novel. In a game, it’s about the interactions, the new vistas, and the putting players together. When you put forth a question, as a designer, that’s an interaction waiting to happen. The greatest games provide an infinitude of interactions, whether openly asked or subtly implied.
It’s no wonder I looked at D&D as such a boon to and outlet for my creativity when I was younger. Even though I didn’t necessarily know the writing techniques being used to stoke my fecund wee mind, they had their effect, and they’re still inspiring me, 25 years later.
I couldn’t agree more. There is no sense of mystery in your game if answers are readily available. Nice post.Also, I run a homebrew world that is far from complete. So, by allowing the players to ask questions and ,most importantly, make assumptions, they are a great resource in helping me flush out the details of my world.
Great point! Those “holes” in the environment allow everyone the opportunity to be creative. Players have a much greater sense of the world when it’s them helping to make the decisions that characterize it. That’s a fantastic game-mastering technique you’re using.