Aside from the Midsummer celebrations, the week’s main event for me was a short overnight hike at the national park of Isojärvi with a few friends. The associated car trip left plenty of time for further honing my primer idea from last week’s forest meditations.
OSR primer tradition
Old school D&D is (or can be) a genuinely different game compared to the traditional rpg as the form developed in the ’80s. The game’s player-driven, has a neutral referee, favours rulings over rules, and so on and so forth. One pleasantly different aspect in the old school renaissance is the existence of the “primer” as a type of game text, something that doesn’t really exist in the mainstream rpg culture.
A “primer” in this context means a book of philosophical and methodological advice for GMing and playing D&D. A primer is generally intended for roleplayers coming from a traditional background, yet unfamiliar with the culture and assumptions of the old school game. The primer is usually not very mechanically specific, as befits the nature of the game; the content concerns procedures, not mechanics. You would presumably read the primer as accompaniment to your rules text of choice.
Here are a few good examples of old school primers:
Quick Primer for Old School Gaming by Matt Finch is among the most well-known. It is stark and orthodox, compact and clear. While I may not agree with everything in there, it nevertheless tackles the foundational theory in a clear way. It’s where I encountered e.g. “rulings, not rules”.
Principia Apocrypha by David Perry is something I was directed to at Agora when I started discussing the primer idea. It’s a solid treatment, though slightly too dramatist for me, choosing to express itself in a way that encourages teleological thinking; very fitting for its Apocalypse World influences. A thorough and friendly text, nevertheless.
Philotomy’s Musings is a classic of the primer genre; while it’s not comprehensive, and is more of a collection of thoughts than a full treatment, it’s nevertheless a personal favourite. The Musings are firmly oriented towards the best official edition of D&D (the ’74 original), and demonstrate a deep mastery of the game.
I’ve often said that the rpg scene tends to publish too many new games and too few guidebooks to playing the ones that already exist, so I obviously like the primer as a phenomenon. They accompany the often very practically oriented old school rulebooks particularly well, providing the advice and philosophical underpinnings that are usually left out of rules texts.
Crowdfunding a primer
So the idea I had last week during my forest meditations was that I should try to crowdfund a primer instead of a dungeon master’s guide. The difference is that a primer is ~50 pages long if that instead of 250, and it’s intended for newcomers to the form, both players and GMs. The project budget would be a manageable 2–3k € instead of 10k+ € and it wouldn’t take that long to finish, either. I also consider a primer more useful than a DMG, all in all, so that works out well assuming the scene agrees.
After massaging the concept on our camping trip, the latest and bestest name for the book is “Muster: A Friendly Primer to Challenging Dungeoneering”. I’m envisioning it as being suitable for both players and GMs, and as something you can give to new players for home reading. The text would be clear and consistent about representing my own playstyle and philosophy, but I’m thinking of producing the booklet in formats that make it easy for users to modify it for their own needs; it should make the booklet more usable as a pedagogical tool if you can make minor revisions in places where you disagree with me.
I guess that the next thing to do would be to work out a more detailed crowdfunding pitch with some marketing graphics, familiarize myself with IndieGoGo, figure out what little marketing I can do, and see what the audiences think of the idea. I’ve been thinking that we might try for a launch in mid-July or so, but that depends a lot on how the forestry thing develops next week; I think that I’m going to be doing extra-long days on that front until the end of the month.
If you know somebody who’d be interested in consulting here — helping to market the crowdfunding campaign in particular — do tell. I don’t know if it’s really practical, but my ideal marketing aide would be somebody who can get behind the product, knows where OSR-interested roleplayers hang out nowadays, and wants to take up the task of visiting these places to make sure the people find out. We could add an agreeable commission fee to the crowdfunding goal to pay a bit for the service. I imagine it’d be e.g. ~20 hours of social media related work, mainly in late July, depending on how plans shake out.
Monday: Coup de Main #2
We played our second session of the old school Greyhawk campaign, “Coup de Main”, last Monday. The adventurers had figured out what they wanted to do in the first session, and I’d prepared a bit more in terms of hexcrawl readiness, so it wasn’t too long before we were on the road to the Ygrame Chateau. The party has a variety of interests there, mostly related to this series of quests they established for themselves:
Discovering Zagig’s Estate: Some of the PCs are enchanted with the legend of the Mad Archmage. XP is gained for discovering pieces of the estate; items, secrets and whatnot left behind by the Archmage.
Librarian Quest: The bibliophile character imagines that there could be books in the chateau. Extra XP is gained for preserving books, particularly rare and valuable ones.
Repurposing the Manor: The party is in the understanding that there are goblins in the manor. Apparently some of the party members are goblin-haters, as they wanted a quest for freeing the house from the green-skin infestation. Extra XP for getting rid of any goblins on the premises.
Clear up Ownership: Some of the PCs are intrigued by the notion of a seemingly abandoned manor house so close to civilization; they want to figure out who the place belongs to, and have it renovated. Maybe they can possess it themselves?
The campaign has a pretty robust set of quest rules, so the players just piled these on. I might require a bit more ground-work to establish quests in the future, but I’m not one to gainsay motivation, so by all means do take up some quests. I think that it’s important for the challenge-based, goal-oriented style of the game that it’s possible to be questing for other things than treasure if you want to. (The quests reduce treasure XP a bit each, so they’re not entirely an unmitigated good.)
What happened in practice was that we journeyed to the chateau (an epic journey through two whole 6-mile hexes) and started exploring the environs by mapping out the exteriors of the mansion. There was a fight with some goblins and orcs, with some PCs ending up in critical condition (they’ll recover, but it’s going to take like several weeks of in-game time). The adventurers retreated back to town, now better apprised of the situation at the chateau.
I enjoyed the session immensely myself, but objectively speaking it was pretty clumsy; no discrete problems per se, just the fact that we have a new group, new online medium, new play tools for that medium, and a new campaign — everything’s at least somewhat new! We will improve on everything with some practice, and then things like mapping or running fights will become quicker. I’ll also be writing up more of the necessary system infrastructure over time, which’ll make resolution processes and such more transparent.
Session #3 is scheduled for tomorrow, Monday 22.6., starting around 15:00 UTC. Feel free to stop by if you’re interested in trying the game out or simply seeing what it’s like.
D&D Conquistadorialism
Remotely related to playing D&D, we’ve had long discussions about the cultural politics of D&D at Club Hannilus and related Discord servers. It started with the orc racism thing that’s apparently been making rounds in the Internet. As part of generally voicing our opinions I stated my regular position, namely that D&D is a thoroughly conquistadorial modern-age game where removing those themes would actually require a deep redesign of the game’s structures. As is often the case when I open my mouth on this, we found something to argue about with various other contributors.
For general interest, here’s the conquistadorial reading on D&D. The following is intended as a big-picture historical overview, it’s not about some specific edition of the game — or rather, it’s about all of them. It is also very, very basic, as I have some reason to believe that this is not as obvious as it may seem to me.
D&D is about battling Evil Humanoids: Among other things, a recurring theme in the game is that such a thing as Evil Humanoids exists, and they are battled for various reasons. This is really common in D&D, and has always been; it may be the single most common adventuring activity that the game features. There are other types of enemies, but the Humanoids are certainly one of the most popular.
D&D is about attaining treasures: Again, it’s really common. The treasures are generally guarded by Evil Humanoids, who you need to battle to attain the treasures. I don’t really feel that I need to exposit on this, but I might well be mistaken on that. Still, the premise should be familiar from video games if nowhere else.
D&D is a thoroughly racial fantasy: In the vast scope of what fantasy fiction can be, D&D is remarkably racialist; it’s much more so than any other popular fantasy franchise (unrelated to it) I can think of. (“Racialist” here means ‘considers race significant, revolves around race.’) The first thing you do when creating a character is picking a race, which then provides the character with a variety of strengths and weaknesses. The various creatures in the world are categorized into allies and enemies on the basis of their race; race also determines their religions, economic activities and most everything else for most creatures in the D&D world. Many creatures are entirely mechanized on the basis of their race, lacking any other distinction. The Monster Manual consists of racial profiles. The setting histories of most settings are histories of race (species) narratives. There’s a lot of race in there, all around, even if some of it is species and some are other types of in-born categorizations of various creatures.
D&D is about colonial power relationships: The Evil Humanoids are primitive, the Good Humans (and “their demi-human allies”) are civilized. The Evil Humanoids do not generally have any legal rights, such as the right to their possessions or their lives. The Evil Humanoids live out in the uncivilized parts, away from the Good Humans. The shape of adventure is for the adventurers to leave civilization behind and journey to the realm of monsters, there to interact with the monster world. You could call them explorers, maybe, or archaeologists, but what most naturally fits is conquistadors: the adventurers are there to seek treasure and to take it (often from the Evil Humanoids, but not always). Sometimes it’s just a home invasion, in fact.
D&D is thoroughly modernist: “Modern era” in cultural history is generally understood as basically the era of Enlightenment, starting a few centuries ago and being slowly replaced by whatever this thing is we have now, after the world wars. (“Post-modern era”, cleverly named.) D&D is a good example of a relatively late modernist work in that its attitudes and values are pretty retro for its time — I might posit culturally conservative, but that’s a distinct discussion. The important thing for us is that D&D and its creators share their themes and worldview with modernist pulp adventure fiction (early 20th century), which shows in everything it is. The binary worldview that emphasizes the ideas of Good and Evil, the racialism, the triumph of civilization over the primitive, the celebration of strength are all very Modern ideas. We do not live in a world that outright repudiates these ideas, but maybe we do have enough historical distance by now to perceive D&D in its historical context?
(Isn’t it interesting, by the way, how D&D jumped from Gygax’s earnest pulp fiction with cynical adventure seekers into pseudo-Christian moral majority stuff during the ’80s? The shift was from one kind of modernist thought to another sort, rather than going into some kind of postmodern deconstruction phase like e.g. superhero comics did at the time. The Evil Humanoids were still Evil, and the game was still about defeating them; it just wasn’t necessarily for greed anymore, but rather for God and Crown.)
Now, I feel that everything I wrote above is rather blindingly obvious — it’s text analysis on the level of stating that Star Wars has spaceships in it. It’s interesting, though, how different people’s viewpoints can be. One of the contributors in this week’s discussions even presented me with the intricate epistemological idea that statements like “D&D is about conquistadorialism” are impossible to make because as a roleplaying game toolset D&D is not “about” anything. It’s just a set of tools, and therefore cannot hold thematic meaning in the way I posit above. We literally cannot say that D&D has spaceships in it, because what if it doesn’t? It doesn’t have to, you could choose to not have the spaceships, unlike in Star Wars which is a movie and therefore a fixed entity.
What do you think? The topic is interesting, and people seem to have surprisingly different viewpoints on this stuff. I think it’s worth giving it a thought, even if it’s just “duh, yeah.” I don’t think myself that the above is news to anybody who’s ever cracked open a D&D book, but then I didn’t think that we would manage to have a long discussion about it this week, either.
Club Hannilus Minutes
We’ve managed to talk about other stuff aside from conquistadorial themes in D&D, although it has been popular. Let’s review:
- The club host himself went ballooning on a hot air balloon. I understand he even came down more or less in one piece. He even had photographical proof of the feat of flying. The fellow is apparently a half-ballooner, a sort of multiclass dabbler situation: works in the ground crew on occasion, but doesn’t fly himself, except now he did.
- One of the contributors is playing in a Forgotten Realms D&D 5e campaign, and graces us occasionally with reports on how it’s going. It’s interesting stuff, as it’s basically his first D&D campaign ever. The latest twist is that while we could sense some skepticism over the game’s premise initially, it’s apparently starting to grow on him: describing combat maneuvers has been growing more entertaining, and it’s fun to act out characters with the other players. (Or one other player who’s into that as well. We’ll see how that develops.) In a word, we’re witnessing the theory of “princess play” act out here!
- Speaking of princess play, we had some very nice discussions about it, directly inspired by said D&D campaign. The princess play theory is a bit of a personal pet theory of mine, so I don’t get to talk a lot about it with people who actually like princess play and get how to do it. Fun times!
- How come D&D doesn’t have much sense of wonder? Things are often quite boring in D&D, is what that means. Even fantastic things don’t seem very fantastic, which is particularly noticeable in a modern D&D campaign full of weird player characters. You’re adventuring around with a robot, a cat girl and a token dwarf, and it’s sort of surprising how little narrative weight the fantastical elements have.
- Related to the conquistadorialism discussion, what would D&D be like if you outright removed the Evil Humanoids and other intelligent enemies from the game? Just in case you thought that the game would be nicer if it wasn’t about race war all day long. That seems doable for the modern game, you could have the setting revolve around e.g. exploring and cleaning out ancient civilization sites with still-functioning robotic guardians and whatnot. Maybe swap the Thief out for a Hacker for a bit of techno-fantasy feel. The game would lose a lot of social content if you just didn’t have people-on-people conflict in it, but if you’re mostly into it for the setpiece combats anyway, then that might not be such a big deal. (The setpieces would benefit from the robot theme, as it’s easier to justify why the monsters sit around in their own cubicles waiting for their turn to be hacked apart.)
- Continuing on the conquistadorial theme, I learned something hilarious about the Sunless Citadel, which I know is a very well-known 3e era adventure module that I’ve never read myself. One the contributors dragged it up when we were wondering about what race relations are like in D&D products, and apparently this one’s, well, check this out: the adventure tells about a bunch of goblins who’ve gotten their paws on a magical tree with healing properties. They sell the magical cure for money. This is, as per the adventure, a terrible thing to do, and provides the hook for the adventurers to go delve the Sunless Citadel so as to put those goblins in their place. Can’t have goblins owning property or engaging in commerce, after all.
- We hashed out the gaming plans for the Club Hannilus for next quarter! We’re going to start by clearing a few sessions for a story game we’ve been intending to try out, but after that it’s going to be Flame/Star/Night and Varangian Way (the two games in development that we played a bit in the spring) in turns for who knows how many months. Lots of playtest, plenty of game development.
- One of the contributors who’ve been attracted to join us on Discord is an old gaming pal of mine from say half a decade back. They were a somewhat quiet middle-pack player back then, participating in our long-running old school D&D campaign. I hadn’t heard of the fellow more than in passing for several years, so it’s been nice to exchange news online now. What’s more, I very much like what moving to Helsinki has done with him: he drops smart stuff on Discord, very cogent and articulate, and I hear he’s GMing himself, which I can totally believe based on the quality of his rules cruft. (Old school GMs compare rules cruft a lot.) All in all a very nice development!
- We had a long and convoluted discussions of one of my more radical and recent old school D&D rules innovations, something that I like to call “hit point cancel”. The rules innovation itself is simple but provocative: I think that characters should have the subjective option to shrug status effects by expending HP commensurate with the “level” (spell level maybe, not important) of the effect. The reasoning behind the HP cancel is pretty advanced, and some like it while others don’t, so it’s taken some chewing.
Quest for Lucre
The Quest for Lucre is my self-help scheme of motivation-by-tax-bear; well recommended to anybody suffering of ennui. The goal is to make 2k € in revenue for my self-publishing imprint this year. The reward for success is the sweet feeling of knowing that I can make money from this bullshit if I want to, and therefore be a valid citizen.
There hasn’t been massive amounts of progress on the Quest since I published the World of Near pdf at Drivethrurpg last month, but recently a few delightfully active tree-pulp-purchasers — people who buy physical books are apparently still a thing — made some investments in their rpg collection at our webstores, resulting in a 4% bump to the progress bar. A copy of Zombie Cinema was sold, even, which I always favour; I don’t have many copies of that left, but the sales have also slowed down to a trickle over the last decade, so it’s always nostalgic to pick one out of the box in the closet to send out to the world.
While there is a little bit of this on-going background activity, it’s pretty clear that the Quest isn’t going to fulfill itself without further strategic steps. My best bet of the moment is the crowdfunding thing, so let’s hope that pans out.
State of the Productive Facilities
Eh. No productive writing this week either, unless you count this newsletter. Life-living is getting in the way, what with the camping trips and Midsummers and such. And next week’s definitely going to be even more ambitious, as the forestry operation pushes towards a ruthless deadline at the end of June. Long nights in the forest (it’s cooler at night, and the midnight sun is in full force here) will probably not make for an environment conducive to ambitious writing.
Polling-wise the theory articles are all winning ruthlessly. I guess they do have one good point to them: they’re not, on average, as much work to write as game design stuff is.
[June 2020] What should I write about in more depth?
- [theory] The Sacrament of Death (19%, 66 Votes)
- [theory] A Big Model overview (15%, 54 Votes)
- [theory] The semiotic significance of game mechanics in rpgs (14%, 51 Votes)
- [design] Notes on my Basic D&D homebrew (13%, 46 Votes)
- [design] more C2020 Redux (10%, 36 Votes)
- [design] Concepting the post-D&D adventure game (8%, 27 Votes)
- [design] TSoY and SS update (6%, 21 Votes)
- [design] Drafting an old school primer (5%, 18 Votes)
- [design] a Chronicles of Prydain wargame (4%, 14 Votes)
- [design] Coup de Main in Greyhawk campaign protocol (3%, 11 Votes)
- [design?] Put together some He-Man shit, for reals (2%, 8 Votes)
Total Voters: 145

I feel like failing to deliver a “Sense of Wonder” is actually something that’s common in trad games in general, even if D&D does suffer especially for it. I can’t count the number of times where I had more fun imagining a game than actually playing it.
Perhaps there’s something to be said for a closed and relatively conservative set of game mechanics that are simply incapable of conveying the amount of variety that’s promised on the package? There’s only so much excitement that can be generated by a minor variation in ability score bonuses, or a slightly larger critical hit range for a weapon, or the same old 1st level ranged damage spell but with a new elemental descriptor. If Magic the Gathering kept adding new cards but without new mechanics, it likely would have gone stale ages ago. But I get the idea that “changing the meta” of an RPG is largely seen as undesirable.
I’d hope that this is sort of what “The semiotic significance of game mechanics in rpgs” is supposed to be about, even if its prospects in the polling seem to leave it perennially just outside the winner’s circle. The way that the mechanical representations of things link between their “ideal” forms and the way they manifest fictionally/imaginatively/whatever in a game is something that’s been eating at my brain for years. Is the mechanical a representation of the ideal? Is it a recipe for constructing a simulacra? Etc etc…
By the way, would you mind if I popped by to check out your Greyhawk game? I’m not really sure how well-suited I am for the play style, but I’ve heard you mention this sort of game so many times over the years that my curiosity is somewhat irrepressible.
Oh, please do come in! I like introducing the game to new people, and it helps keep the veterans busy when they get to help out with chargen and whatnot. There are no worries whatsoever about a participation threshold in this kind of game: you can just come in to watch and cheer the players on, or participate in the kibitzing without having a character in play, or you can make a character and still never contribute anything unless directly asked — and you can come in or leave at any time, really, it doesn’t disrupt the game in any particularly unpleasant way. I think it can only ever be a positive thing if anybody wants to come in and see what we’re doing (provided it’s not a technically cumbersome number of people, but that hasn’t been an issue so far).
It is, specifically, a quite common and entirely honorable thing for players to come in for a session to see if they might like the game. Historically some people make a habit of coming in “occasionally”, when they can make the time. As the game’s not plot-reliant per se, and the characters come and go, you’re not leaving anybody in the lurch if you come in, try it out and then decide that it’s not for you. (It’s certainly a very focused game that doesn’t strive for the common denominator; some people find it too cruel, what with the constant losing, while others find it very boring, what with the constant planning.)
And yeah, the semiotic significance article is indeed about the exact thing you speculate about. I think it’s a very interesting topic as well, and one that I haven’t seen tackled in any kind of actionable way. (My take: mechanical representation exists independent of resolution procedures, and it is actually more important as a communication paradigm than as a foundation for rules systems.) I’m sure it’ll get to the to-do list at some point, for whatever that’s worth. (Maybe not much, considering how slow I’ve been writing this month.)
Neat! Could you drop me a discord invite or whatever? (If you don’t want to post it publicly you could also e-mail it or whatever, I assume you can see the address I enter to post comments)
Nichloas J. Mizerin artikkeli ”The paladin ethic and the spirit of dungeoneering”, https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/pdf/10.1111/jpcu.12213 (sano jos siinä on maksumuuri, josta on haittaa), kuvaa hyvin, miten ihmeen tuntu on vähentynyt D&D:n liikkuessa laitoksesta toiseen.
I’m not an expert on this, but my educated guess is D&D 5th edition being less conquistadorial than the early editions.
– Battling opponents: It’s not Evil Humanoids but Evil People. Published adventures feature fiendish organizations plotting to take over the world and the DMG suggests a long list of options for making up a motivation & plan for the antagonist.
– Attaining treasures: Milestone xp is widely more popular in 5e than counting xp for defeated enemies and treasures don’t yield xp at all. The reason to take up an adventure is to fight against evil, not personal profit.
– Racial fantasy: Picking a race is still a part of the character creation and each race has special features, but the race has no part in the level progression (which is totally up to the character class). The race and the character class are also separated and any combination is possible. You alluded this yourself in passing by saying that having “a robot, a cat girl and a token dwarf” in the character team doesn’t mean a thing.
– Colonial power relationships: This mostly still exists. The characters travel from civilized lands to the wilds, where the evil-doers live in old ruins or other exotic locations. Monsters are dealt with violent justice, but this is because of what they did and not because who they are.
– Modernism: The DMG suggests throwing a few moral conumdrums at the players, but the published adventures are pretty clear black-and-white fantasy. There’s rarely negotiating with or understanding the opponent: the stronger is going to dictate how the things are.
Out of curiousity, do you still gather treasure in 5e? Also, is treasure used in a magic-item economy like 3e? In 3e treasure is totally a part of the general charop despite not being a source of experience points; it’s more of a second reward track all on its own, as it enables you to purchase or make all kinds of powerful tools to overcome enemies.
(I’ve played 5e a bit, and read some parts of the PHB, but these are the exact sorts of details that I don’t remember learning.)
Your points seem generally well-reasoned, though, so as you say, it seems that 5e is slowly moving away from this thematic complex. Not the kind of sudden and fundamental shift that I’d like myself, being an impatient and idealistic non-corporate who doesn’t have to care about alienating old customers, but the direction is so clear that we’ve been speculating about a “6th edition” in the saloons, one that’d make an actual post-modern break and remove the entire colonialistic core concept from the game.
Taikakaluja on, mutta talousjärjestelmää niiden ympärillä oleellisesti ei, tai ainakin se on hyvin väljä ja jättää paljon pelinjohtajan harkinnan varaan.
Taikakalut ovat merkittävämpiä kuin ennen ja niitä oletetaan olevan vähemmän käytössä. Oletus on, että niitä ei saa ostettua kaupasta. Löyhät hintaohjenuorat kuitenkin löytyvät, mutta ne ovat huonot D&D 3 -henkiseen käyttöön; fanit ovat korjanneet puutteen: https://gurbintrollgames.wordpress.com/blackballs-treasure-2/ (kirjoitettu hahmo-optimointipelaamisnäkökulmasta)
> Now, I feel that everything I wrote above is rather blindingly obvious — it’s text analysis on the level of stating that Star Wars has spaceships in it.
I, for one, agree 100% with that reading and this comment of yours.
I’ll add the minor point that the basic economics of by-the-book D&D (buying adventuring equipment, lodging, etc.) are those of a “Wild West” boomtown. That goes for all textual versions of D&D I’ve checked out (which are numerous) and isn’t simply solved by shifting from “the gold standard” to “the silver standard”. That’s something that struck me as odd coming from a purely Medieval-early Modern historical fantasy perspective, long before I overcame my blindness to the colonialist values of the game, and now I’m older and wiser I think the two dovetail egregiously — as two sides to the modernist coin.
> I’ll add the minor point that the basic economics of by-the-book D&D (buying adventuring equipment, lodging, etc.) are those of a “Wild West” boomtown.
Do you mean the prices, the available equipment, or something else?
The presence of the general store and the tavern/inn in every village is quite ubiquitous, at least, but it would be interesting to know what else has caught your attention.
That: general stores, inns and somewhat fixed price for goods imply a modern economy, not pre-industrial. The high prices (in coin) of travel provisions and mundane goods such as rope, the fact that PCs are implied to stay at inns and pay daily or weekly rent, all are coherent with a gold-rush or colonial maritime venture context. PCs don’t feel like part of the local social landscape — perhaps even the town isn’t, rather being a service hub and commodity marketplace for adventurers. Or, if not just adventurers, then settlers from elsewhere (which would make the “humanoids” the actual locals, the dehumanized natives).
For comparison: Circle of Hands, by Ron Edwards (which I’ve read but not played) is a rare example of a fantasy RPG paying serious thought to the rural pre-Modern socio-economical landscape. The author goes as far as saying it is “Iron Age, not Medieval” in order to dispel common misconceptions held by RPG players, but any D&D-like game set in the European Middle Ages or even Renaissance ought to be much closer to Circle of Hands than any published variant of D&D to claim at least a pretense of historical-ness.
If we assume a medieval economic system, and if we assume a wealthy traveller (maybe a mercenary after looting a city, or some learned man or noble travelling for their own purposes, or such), how much would they have to pay for common goods?
Certainly the locals, as part of the local community, would go with barter, favours and paying in kind. But what about rich strangers?
I have some draft version of Circle of hands waiting on my to read list, but it is a big list.
I’d say, in an actual medieval economy, any high-status travelers would be received as guests by their peers — or the approximately closest social class found locally.
A noble would be received by the local nobility, any privileges of their station “naturally” extended to them, clergy would be hosted by clergy, etc. These people wouldn’t normally have to pay or barter for basic services: their safety and living conditions are entirely based on the quality of their relationships with their local peer (at the personal level or the political/diplomatic).
Their actual monetary wealth would be entirely irrelevant, as long as they are recognizable as belonging in their social class.
Mercenaries would be dealt with as a foreign military unit: either allies to the local rulers (granted lodging and provisions as part of a service deal which likely involves fighting on behalf of the local community) or enemies to be fought or fled.
Merchants would certainly exchange money for services, though only in very large trade hubs they’d find locals whose livelihood primarily depends on selling services to traveling merchants — in most communities they’d just be guests at somebody’s house and have to adapt to the local ways of living a bit. Most merchants don’t travel very far from home; those that do are indeed embarking on an adventure and nothing is to be taken for granted.
Adventurous merchants are probably the closest to your run-of-the-mill fantasy RPG PCs. Still, they wouldn’t pay fixed prices for common goods, would probably have to prioritize obtaining hospitality over goods, and wouldn’t find anything like a general store or a travelers’ inn in most locations. Sometimes they’d congregate in self-sufficient enclaves of foreigners in distant lands, sometimes they’d be happily received as guests for the excitement, news and trade opportunities they bring, but in general they’d have to be extremely self-reliant, considering travel in itself to be a significant risk.
For the lower ranks of society — anybody who wasn’t at least a wealthy and resourceful merchant — the status of a traveler was hardly distinguishable from that of a homeless person. Except, perhaps, if there was a spiritual reason behind their irrational, otherwise foolish choice of giving up a normal life and start a journey — then called a “pilgrimage”.
Hospitals, in medieval Europe, were first established as places where pilgrims could find food and shelter (provided freely to them as a charitable act). Many had to stay for a while to recover from hunger, exhaustion or illness (if they indeed recovered: mortality among pilgrims was pretty high). Such were the adverse effects of journeying through a world not designed to accommodate travel.
Peers when available, for sure, but they did also do other kinds of trips.
(Here is one example that is famous hereabouts: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_(bishop_of_Finland)#Death_and_burial )
I’ll reread Norbert Ohler’s “The medieval traveller” when I get it back; this review https://worldhistory.us/medieval-history/the-medieval-traveller-by-norbert-ohler-book-review.php , at least, mentions inns and guesthouses.
As far as I know, the general store was not a thing, but this is not my specialty. I think the list prices are just a convenient simplification and see no further meaning in them.
I’m now thinking how a quick, straightforward way of trying to “redeem” D&D from its conquistador-ism with no significant changes to the gameplay is re-framing the context as resistance and retaliation against a falling “master race” (the Melniboneans, say):
(·) instead of “evil humanoids”, you have former masters and colonizers — fantasy Nazis if you wish — whose very lawful and organized empire is finally crumbling;
(·) the PCs come from demographics that were enslaved, colonized or otherwise struggling in the heydays of the empire, who have only just regained a small measure of freedom;
(·) the dungeons are the understaffed fortresses and police stations of the empire, increasingly isolated and slowly decaying;
(·) any treasures the PCs are liberating from the dungeons were stolen away from their ancestors by the empire in its expansionist days — as tax money, desecrated burials, exploited resources.
Done right, I think this could rehabilitate the basic activities of violent dungeoneering into something morally uplifting, or at the very least justifiable. Of course, potential ways of doing it wrong abound (“Drows”, cough).
Thanks for the observations on travel in medieval times, Rafu!
Your ideas for redeeming D&D are also interesting, though I wonder about all the NPCs (under)staffing those fortresses and police stations. They are probably serving their masters due to a mixture of coercion and bribes, but they are still human, aren’t they? Without the dehumanization (like that of goblins etc.), the PCs cannot really kill them without compunction which is sort of at the core of adventuring, isn’t it?
I thinkg that some D&D attempts to sidestep moral issue by using undead, but of course plundering graves and derelict temples etc. is just as colonialist as assaulting the dwelling places of the living.
I think it’s interesting that the moment we start examining our assumptions to challenge them, we end up acknowledging the humanity of the opposition. “But they’re just following orders, aren’t they?” If so, perhaps diplomacy/deception is an option (I like myself a sort of D&D where figthing is a last resort, not the default response – unless it’s the sort of set-piece battle MMA 4E thing where I’d definitely go the robots way). But I didn’t choose the police analogy lightly: by default, I’d say the dungeon guards freely chose their line of job as enforcers of the regime. Which isn’t as much dehumanizing them as recognizing that returning violence against these dungeon-cops is essentially self defense.
I wouldn’t assume the PCs are good people, either — pulp adventurers, rogues, not “heroes”. They carry weapons. They are violent bastards. Other violent bastards trying to stop them might get hurt. It’s just that I’d rather play a game of violent bastards motivated by a grudge than by greed only.
However, if you really feel that dehumanizing the opposition so that “heroic” PCs can kill them without compunction is a necessary part of your D&D (that’s not really my cup of tea, I think), then I’d STILL rather see you dehumanize a fantasy analogue for fascists (devils? vampires?) than a fantasy analogue for the oppressed and/or colonized anyway.
Rafu, I was diagnosing D&D in general, not expressing approval, personal preference or actual practice.
The reasoning that killing dungeon cops is “self defense” and “returning violence” sounds a lot like the reasoning of terrorists, but of course, one man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter and vice versa.
It seems that your idea of “redeeming” D&D amounts to defining evil at the political level, rather than the racial level: “Let’s kill those orcs from ambush because orcs are evil” vs. “Let’s kill those people from ambush because they are police”.
I wholeheartedly agree that “the moment we start examining our assumptions to challenge them, we end up acknowledging the humanity of the opposition”.
I don’t see an easy or obvious way to morally salvage D&D’s core activity of assaulting sentient beings at their place and taking their treasure. Within the context of specific missions, maybe, but if one treats people as people, things are not going to stay black and white in a wider context (such as a sandbox) or with procedures which try for some psychological depth (such as morale checks which inevitably lead to the question of whether to shoot fleeing people or what to do with prisoners etc).
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