Folklore defined | Tales of terror | Wishful thinking | Fabricated fantasy | Constructing folklore |
Examples | ||||
Advanced Dungeons & Dragons | - | Dragon #113 | - | Dragon magazine |
The mountain of myth produced by the
people of the ancient world was gigantic.
Many of today's fantasy games and novels
stem from this folklore. Uncountable
superstitions and stories, some of which
persist to this day, were invented to explain
natural events. But if the real ancient
world seemed fantastic to its people, what
would the world of fantasy seem like to an
uneducated society? The folklore of a
fantasy world, with a much greater base
of myths and legends to draw from, would
provide limitless possibilities.
The use of folklore can maintain campaign
atmosphere and set the stage for
exciting adventures. Misleading rumors
and hoary beliefs have been the downfall
of many, both in life and in the AD&D®
game. But in fantasy, tales can lead to so
much more! Ancient treasures, magical
data -- in fact, almost everything of interest
to a character can be divined from
common stories.
Folklore adds life to scenarios. A great
deal may be learned about a culture or a
society from the stories its members tell.
While developing a scenario, it is important
to cover the details of local culture,
and legends help explain them to the PCs.
Few PCs will ignore what another game
character tells them! Thus, folklore is
more than just another detail for the DM
to create. It is an excellent mechanism for
relating descriptions and clues to player
characters.
Folklore defined
Folklore is a set of stories that are at
least somewhat believable. These stories
are usually of an enduring nature and
often have an ironic or supernatural twist.
Folk tales describe the inner hopes, fears,
or beliefs of the teller and the culture in
which the teller lives.
There are four major types of folklore:
the horror story, which is meant to scare
people, and its opposite, which contains
wishful thinking; tales that are merely
amusing; and tales that are designed and
told for a definite purpose. Stories in this
latter group are often spread by members
of a political group. Each form of folklore
has its own uses in planting information
(or disinformation) for game purposes.
Nothing will affect a story so much as
the people who invent and propagate it.
Both the ethnic background and the personality
of the author will alter the nature
of a folk tale. Of course, most folklore has
been passed on through many people and
altered with each telling. Thus, the basic
culture of a tale?s origin will have more of
an influence on the tale than the individual
inventor of it.
This is fortunate, as it enables a DM to
add flavor and depth to a land through its
folklore. Rather than blatantly stating facts
about an area and its history and mores,
the PCs can be allowed to gather this
knowledge through the tales that they
hear there. Barbaric societies will feature
action in their stories. Primitive, superstitious
lands will be ridden by proscriptions
and suggestions, each one with a brief tale
to back it up. The tales of a people do
much to describe their culture. As well as
imparting game information, folk tales add
realism and interest to fantasy cultures.
Tales of terror
The horror story is most prevalent in
modern folklore, and certainly has its
place in fantasy. If well invented, horror
stories are wonderful for creating atmosphere.
Not only can these stories be used
to scare PCs, but they also can stir interest.
Most PCs will not pass up an attempt
to loot a rich tomb with fell guardians, for
example.
To an adventurer, horror stories can be
both helpful and annoying. Valuable information
about monsters, dungeons, and
other adventure opportunities could well
be passed on this way. But putting too
much stock in fearful accounts can often
lead to avoiding interesting adventures or
engaging in dangerous ones. Distinguishing
between truthful and false stories is
very important for a player character.
Obviously, the AD&D game provides a
rich source for frightening tales. Monsters
and magic are scary enough! In horror
stories, these elements would doubtless be
exaggerated and misunderstood. The
problem for the DM who is designing
folklore is to determine what parts of their
world the citizens find most terrifying.
This, of course, depends on the milieu.
The unknown is the most frightening of
all. Paradoxically, the second most terrifying
things are likely to be all too well
known. In a fantasy game world, monsters
that have the power to cause fear in combat
probably also induce unnatural fear in
stories. In a village commonly raided by
orcs, but where there are few undead,
there might be terrible tales about vampires,
and yet the village stories might still
dwell on orcs a great deal. Then, of
course, some things are especially frightening,
regardless of proximity or lack
thereof. Certain subjects dominate many
horror stories: awesome curses, the sudden
discovery of corpses, and bizarre
methods of dispatching foes are a few
examples.
Just as modern man often feels threatened
by technology, so in medieval times
and in an AD&D game campaign peasants
would be disturbed by magic. In ancient
times magic was usually portrayed as evil;
the same portrayal is probable in a world
where magic is real. There will be fears
that spells are being used for undesirable
ends. As in the actual Middle Ages, there
will be tales of magicians who improperly
control their magic and come to harm.
Storytellers who have had little experience
with magic will almost always discuss its
negative aspects.
Contamination is a common theme in
horror stories and a most useful subject
for gaming purposes. Tales about magical
items that are imbued with some sort of
curse or evil are likely to be common.
These can be particularly disturbing to
PCs who own items similar to those described
in the account. (In extreme cases,
characters can be persuaded to give up
troublesomely powerful items by hearing
these stories.) Most unknown items, or
those from far away, will be subject to
suspicion.
Taboos, found so often in legend, can be
very useful for directing the course of an
adventure. Characters can be given vital
warnings through proscriptions (for example,
there can be a prohibition against
slaying beholders in an area infested by
gas spores). Also, these warnings can
direct characters to interesting areas and
adventures, or alter their behavior in
many other ways. The PCs may disregard
bits of folklore; still, many hints can be
given through warnings.
The fears of a fantasy people are useful
for adding flavor. Some human societies
might have a great terror of death, while
elvish cultures might express more fear of
being bound to the petty earth for eternity.
Many other facts about a race or
people can be expressed by its fears. With
the prevalence of horror stories in the
modern world, designing them for gaming
presents little difficulty.
Wishful thinking
Tales of wishful thinking are also plentiful.
In their simplest form, wishful tales
are just that: stories of great treasures
lying unguarded, pots of gold under the
rainbow . . . PCs can be very tempted by
these tales! More often heard, however,
are wards and cures. They are usually
based on common fears, but deal with
ways of overcoming them. Wishful lore is
usually based in the truth, though seldom
is it entirely accurate, or truly helpful to
characters.
Wards or good-luck charms are the most
common sort of wishful thinking. These
are details of some ritual, herb, or strategy
that will prevent or cure a problem. Diseases,
monster attacks, and magical problems
are likely subjects. More rarely, the
method accomplishes something desired,
rather than forestalling a negative event.
Obviously, these are important to PCs if
they are effective, but even if they are not
they can be interesting.
Often these methods are based on the
abilities of certain specialists. For example,
a few words from the verbal component
of dispel magic might be touted as a protection
from spells. This is the sort of
thing that makes these tales most interesting
to player characters. Magical information
might be contained in ancient lore ?
a great boon for a researching wizard. Of
course, much of it will be false. Then
there are superstitions: cases in which the
author used some method and got the
desired results for a mundane reason, but
attributed his results to the ritual. Like
horror stories, these tales will serve to
describe the culture of the people that
invent them. The hopes of a society can be
as revealing as its fears.
Tales of heroics are also common forms
of wishful thinking. Such accounts are
typical adventure stories. The heroes of
these tales generally want nothing but
good; occasionally, though, they are slick
sorts, involved for money or fame. They
are not always recognized for their heroism
? at least not in the beginning. Sometimes
they engage in their adventure in
order to belie rumors of cowardice. On
other occasions, they are overbearing
types who master situations from the
beginning of a tale.
In short, these tales describe the ideal of
most player characters. PCs will be interested
in these stories, and all the more so
if the tale describes an area that they
adventure in! Often, this sort of legend
can be the basis for an adventure, or at
least build interest in one. At other times,
vital hints are concealed in them. But
wishful-thinking stories are almost never
completely accurate.
Funny stuff
The third type of folklore is that which
is merely intended to be amusing. These
tales may have happy or sad endings, and
any sort of personage can be described in
one. The principal feature in such accounts
usually involves some ludicrous or
impossible event or provides some revealing
information about the protagonist.
These stories are funny, if invented and
told well, but they rarely directly describe
items of interest to PCs. However, they can
describe the personality of a prominent
NPC, and characters in games where hackand-
slash adventuring has given way to
intrigue may well be interested in such
revelations. Humor can also be used to
reveal clues in an indirect way. Tales of
this sort are very useful for adding color
to situations.
Fabricated fantasies
These are not really folklore, but they
are similar. They are stories that are
spread with a motive and are designed
with that purpose in mind. A story like
this is told to support or defame some
person, practice or place. Naturally, the
setting and the accuracy depend on the
inventor.
PCs may often be the subjects of these
stories if they are active in a community.
Jealous rivals, political schemers, and
other foes may spread unkind rumors
about a character. Likewise, the PCs may
invent some of these stories themselves!
These can also describe the group that
invents them. What do they consider truly
dishonorable (or glorious)? Whom do they
particularly support (or dislike)?
Constructing folklore
Folklore has been compared to a pot of
soup, where many cooks add various
ingredients, each altering the flavor of the
result a little. A story begins with an idea
or event; as it is retold, each teller changes
it, adds parts from other stories, and
passes it on in a different manner. The
same story often turns up in many different
formats. AD&D game characters themselves
may add to or become a part of
folklore. It certainly would be gratifying to
a player to hear his/her character being
discussed along with heroes of legend.
A few decades ago, professors Allport
and Postman catalogued the ways that
rumors change as they are passed from
person to person. They described three
processes: leveling, in which a story becomes
shorter as it is retold; sharpening,
in which interesting aspects of the story
are emphasized and enhanced; and assimilation,
in which discrepant information is
altered to conform to the story so that it
flows more logically. (In folk stories, extra
information is often added to flesh out a
tale.)
Inspiration for AD&D folklore can come
from almost any source. Actual, modern
stories are a good place to start. Many
possibilities, for example, are recounted in
"Alligators in the Sewers and other Urban
Legends," by Jan H. Brunvand, in the June
1980 issue of Psychology Today. Campaign
events and devices are also good starting
points. A DM may wish to create a string
of tales around a certain monster or adventuring
area. Most folklore is designed
to explain some mysterious event or fact.
Folk legends can be heard almost anywhere
in an AD&D game world. The
stereotypical source is old peasant women,
but most NPCs will know and tell stories
of some sort. Sages will know large
amounts of folklore. Usually, sages can tell
the accurate from the false material. Another
advantage for player characters is
that most NPCs will be glad to tell the
legends that they know, seldom demanding
a bribe or other inducement. In some
areas the relating of folklore may be routine;
a nightly event around the hearth or
campfire. The offering of stories in a
tavern or exchanging of epic songs in a
royal hall should not be excluded as
sources of lore either.
Folklore can add realism and interest to
an AD&D game. For a DM, it is a wonderful
way to give out information to characters
or to mislead them into interesting
problems. Folklore even helps the DM
envision the situation that he is inventing.
To a PC, folklore not only reveals adventures
and clues: it also helps to add depth
to the lands that he/she adventures in.
The Catnip-Crazed Bugbears
It was moon-dark and an old serf farmer
lay in his hut. He was too old to grow
grain. His lord's bailiff had vowed to get
him off the estate within a moon?s time. All
he had left in the world was his plow, his
hut, his field, a striped cat named Yonny,
and some catnip to keep Yonny busy.
As he lay on the ground, there was a
clashing of metal in the distance, followed
by a scream. The old peasant paid no
attention. Then Yonny began to hiss and
spit. He did not know much, that old
farmer, but he knew that cats have better
senses than any human. And Yonny had
descended from the cats of the elves. So
he roused himself and built up the fire in
the center of the dirt floor. But he didn?t
see or hear anything. Then through the
door came a big, misshapen hulk. It was
extremely hairy and had a broadsword as
long as its arm. It was a bugbear raider.
While the others raided the castle, this
fellow was pillaging the peasant-folk.
The old man was scared out of his wits,
but the bugbear paid him no mind. It
grabbed Yonny's catnip and devoured a
sprig. With that it fell to the ground in a
stupor. The old man did not know much
about bugbears, but he took the drunken
monster's sword and slit its throat. He
then took the rest of the catnip and threw
it out of his hut. In no time a great horde
of bugbears came. They scrambled desperately
for the catnip, some being killed in
the fight. After devouring it, they became
quite tipsy. When the guards fell on them,
not a one could still fight. Thanks to Yonny
's catnip, the bugbears did not sack the
castle. The old farmer is still in his hut.
Because of him, all people who fight bugbears
carry catnip, and when the battle
rages they toss it out. When it comes to
catnip, bugbears have no willpower.
Actually, some bugbears do enjoy catnip.
But they do not easily become intoxicated
by it, nor do they have an unnatural craving
for it. Herb merchants promote this
sort of tale, for obvious reasons. Clearly,
here is a tale of wishful thinking. In an
area frequently raided by bugbears, this
sort of ward would be in great demand.
Local knowledge about humanoids (or
whatever the subject of the ward is) will
be contained in these tales. In other such
stories, adventuring possibilities will be
revealed, describing the bugbear?s lair or
other interesting facts.
The Teleporting Hobbit
Fredrick, a warrior, was lost in some
marshes. He had been wounded in a battle
with goblins and was losing blood quickly.
After wandering for several days, he saw
a humanoid form. It was an ugly thing,
only about three feet tall. A halfling? To
Fredrick, it meant rescue. He called out
and ran after it. It ran away. As he pursued
it, the halfling ran to the top of a
mound. The mound was almost an island,
surrounded on three sides by water.
There was no splash, but suddenly the
figure vanished. There was a hole on the
top of the hill, but it was only a few inches
wide. Fredrick put his hand down the
hole. It seemed to go a long way and finally
widened out. He withdrew his arm,
peered down, and saw the halfling?s head.
Terrified, he ran away. Despite what sages
say, halflings may become wizards.
Fredrick actually saw a boggle (see
Monster
Manual II). Boggles have the innate
ability to dimension door through an open
hole. Often they live in caverns that are
inaccessible without this ability. However,
never having heard of a boggle, Fredrick
assumed it was a halfling and acted appropriately.
This tale is designed to explain a
mysterious event. It would probably be
classified as a horror tale, although it is
not particularly frightening. These tales
have many possibilities for gaming. For
example, this one could be used to give
players some hints about a boggle-infested
swamp.
The Giant Golem
In ages past, there was a merchant ship
that sailed the great seas. The crew had
sailed for many a day and now were returning
to port. They were running out of
water and anchored on an island to look
for a spring. After a search they found a
clear pool. Beside it sat an old man! He
claimed to have been marooned for many
years there, although no traces of his
dwelling were visible.
"I do not wish to leave, but take my urn
and when you are three days from any
land, throw it into the sea. Thus the
sharks will know that I am not dead yet."
At first the crew laughed. But the old
man insisted, and with surprising strength
he began to push and shove, keeping the
sailors from the water. Finally the captain
laughed and gave his word to toss the urn
into the sea, three days from land. The
man vanished and an urn appeared where
he had sat. After the crew had filled their
waterskins, they left, taking the urn with
them. A member of the crew had dreams
for two nights in which he was directly
warned to destroy the urn, but the captain
was a man of his word. When the ship
was three days from the island, they
tossed the urn overboard. The water
hissed and ashes poured from the jar as it
sank. That night there was no moon. The
next day, the ship was tossed and buffeted
by the waves, but there was no wind.
On the following day the water broke
behind them. Floating up from the bottom
was a huge rock or floating island. As they
drew near port, the rock took another
form, appearing now as a corpse. Its matted
hair hung askew from its torn scalp,
and it was awful in appearance. But its
main terror was its size. It was huge:
bigger than a storm giant ? as big as a hill!
It slapped the water with a huge hand and
the little ship pitched over. All aboard
were drowned, save one who caught the
monster's ear and rode it to shore.
On land, the monster destroyed towns
and slew men. Many mages attempted to
dispel it and many great paladins perished
in its wake, but none could slay the creature.
An army was sent to subdue the
beast. They fought for many days and
spilled out their blood in the effort. The
soldiers were not able to hit it above its
knees -- not even with war engines. The
monster continued inland. They set it afire
many times, but it easily doused its feet in
nearby rivers. Knowing that the warriors
fought the monster, the emperor's enemies
besieged him. The empire fell and the
army fled. The beast continued on.
A famed archmage declared it a work of
necromancy. Within it, so he claimed, was
the soul of a mortal mage ? in all likelihood,
the old man from the island. It was
then called Glauranthion (which in the
tongue of the elves means ?the great lich?).
Nobody knows where it is now, but rumor
has it that it entered a hole taller than
itself. Unable to climb out, it dug a great
lair and even now preys on explorers who
come thence.
A horror story like this need have no
basis in fact. However, it may depict some
monster invented for a campaign. When
such stories are used, the actual monster
need not be as powerful as the one in the
myth; folk tales tend to exaggerate facts.
Obviously, these tales will interest PCs and
will lend detail to the disasters that befall a
land.
King Glorin's Table
Glorin had no great beginnings: he was a
common dwarf fighter. He walked the
countryside and explored old caverns with
a group of like-minded people. The baron
of the kingdom often hired Glorin for his
doings. The human ruler of a dwarven
land, the baron was troubled by a powerful
creature, possibly an ogre, who dwelt
in a nearby cave. Glorin and his party
were charged to destroy that bandit. After
wandering futilely through the caves, a
mage traveling with Glorin wove a
dweomer that searched for magical wards.
With this they found a vast treasure hoard
containing much money and a ring that
appeared of little worth. Glorin put the
ring in his pouch as a trinket. From there,
a voice began to wail and plead for release,
promising great rewards. Intelligent
and quite powerful, that ring was the
richest part of the hoard. With it, Glorin
defeated the bandit.
While Glorin was in the caves, the baron
was assassinated by a thief known as
Ricardo the Blade. The captain of the
guards assumed the throne. Hearing of
Glorin?s ring, he immediately sent for him
and ordered Glorin to give it up. The
dwarf refused. Fearful of the dwarven
population, the new king did not dare take
the ring forcibly. Instead, he challenged
Glorin to a duel. The captain was slain and
Glorin claimed the monarchy.
Glorin grew rich from his travels and
gave liberally to his subjects. They began
to call him "the Goldhearted" (to which he
had no objections at all). He named the
capital for himself (it would have been too
showy to name the whole kingdom Glorindion).
But Ricardo the Blade took note of
Glorin, robbing his palace, taking a nice
statue, and leaving a note demanding
money and threatening the thief?s return.
Glorin was furious. He sent most of his
valuables to what he considered a safer
place. Then he began to wander the back
streets of his city. For several days he did
that, living with beggars and assassins, and
after many gifts and threats, found a man
who claimed to know Ricardo. Following
directions, Glorin went there. He fought
Ricardo, and eventually triumphed. With
Ricardo imprisoned, Glorin left the building.
He planned to hang Ricardo, but at
the pleading of a cleric he showed mercy.
Instead, he sold Ricardo to a man who
claimed to be a slaver. But some tell that
the "slaver" was actually in Ricardo's pay.
This is obviously a heroic, ?wishfulthinking
? story. Depending on the campaign,
it could also be a political story,
spread to encourage dwarves to revolt
against human masters. As well as this, it
clearly describes the events in the campaign
where it was developed. PCs like
stories like this, which describe areas
important to them and sometimes even
give information on dungeons and treasure
hoards.
When inventing folklore for your campaign,
you will probably wish to drift from
firm guidelines of horror story, wishful
thinking, etc. You may even want to put
folklore into verse; a great deal of medieval
information was transmitted that way.
Pure myth, as well as folklore, undoubtedly
circulates in a fantasy world. You may
uncover pantheons, monsters, and magic
that have only a small basis in AD&D
game "fact.".