My background in industrial design has made me well aware of the
relative merits of standardization. My background in gaming has made
me more respectful yet of the overworked word “playability” . . .
usually found next to the copy on boxes stating “For 8 years and Up.”

Standardization makes for ease of play . . . generally. However,
there are many areas in fantasy campaign designing where standardization
makes little or no contribution to playability. When a judge
begins the designing of social structures for an active campaign, he is
immediately faced with several problems resulting from rule systems
which introduce standardization of fighting ability, intelligence, alignment,
size, dexterity, and other concepts among the races of fantastic
creatures with which he is attempting to populate his “fantasy” universe.

I have found it very expeditious (and more fun) to consider these
limitations as representative of the particular creature type or race . . . in
other words, the prevalent mode. This allows the judge to have unusually
intelligent members of an otherwise low-intelligence type of
fantastic creature to interact with player characters, lead organized lives
of benefit to themselves, create organizations, formulate diabolically
clever plans, and give a more realistic feel to negotiations and other
actions so common in an active campaign.

I’m not suggesting that the judge should fit a normal curve to all
characteristics ascribed to these creature types. Something far simpler
suffices quite well . . . like permitting plus or minus one for forty percent,
plus or minus two for twenty percent, and plus or minus three for five
percent to the average characteristics for that type. A further refinement
would be to create multi-modal adders to allow some simulation of
racial characteristics, tribal influences, or environmental skewing of
certain characteristics such as a history of contact with creatures of
higher intelligence might introduce. Thus the players can be fairly
certain that the “wandering monster” is the standard type to be expected
and yet the system allows some interesting and unique encounters for
those adventures structured in more depth by the judge.

Further applications of this approach would easily apply to technology,
religion (mythos), and languages. Let’s tackle the toughest one
first, technology. My explanation for the difference in technology from
one area in a fantastic campaign to another would run something like
this: The rapid spread of technology throughout mankind’s history is
peculiar to man himself and much abetted by the inherent ability of
mankind to adjust to new situations or adapt to new environments.

In a world replete with more competitors for the highest rung on the
predatory ladder, this ability is hampered by warfare (one of the best, if
not the best, catalyst for technological advancement) with these other
creatures instead of other men. Warfare with creatures of higher intelligence
will cause more technological advancement, warfare with
other men will create normal technological advancement, and warfare
with creatures of lower intelligence will introduce stagnation and
complacency.

Many of the creatures themselves (while a viable political force at
this stage of mankind’s technological development) may not possess the
same environmental adaptability as mankind . . . i.e., a Stone Age technology
might well be the prevalent technological level of most goblin
tribes. Of course, this logic is predicated on the basis that there exist
creatures almost as populous or more populous than mankind of high
enough intelligence to represent a real political threat, while low enough
in intelligence to inspire complacency . . . mankind is gradually winning
the climb up THE LADDER.

The use of a working everyday magic system also retards “real”
research to increase technology . . . although I would consider high
technology items to be magical devices for all practical purposes in any
fantasy campaign where knowledge of these devices is not commonplace.

The spread of technology through trade is also severely restricted,
because trade itself is severely restricted to items of very high value and a
highly portable nature. Anarchy prevails beyond the gates, and only the
most stalwart of merchants will venture forth in the best of times.
Warfare may bring out the animal cunning, but it wrecks the prospect of
an adequate return on investment.

The limits of technological level attainable by any civilization, creature
type, or sage individuals should be determined by the judge when
he develops his campaign. Most opt to exclude the prospect of explosives,
and I heartily concur that this seriously affects the “swords and
sorcery” flavor preferred by most fantasy role-playing enthusiasts. The
unique prospect of obtaining a phaser with its power supply very low or
a .38 revolver with four shots left is almost too much temptation for
many campaign players and should not affect the campaign overmuch,
unless such an item falls into the hands of a super-genius with the
motivation and resources necessary to exploit the happenstance without
personal hazard.

I like the most advanced areas in my campaign to possess inventions
such as telescopes (simple spyglasses), sextants, rudimentary alchemy,
and higher mathematics (inspired, no doubt, by the esoteric pursuit of
high magic and the symmetrical balance necessary to achieve “safe”
magical results).

I tend to prescribe a technological level attainable in any certain area
by villages and city states. The general population is assumed to be
completely self-sufficient at lower technological levels, with “specialization”
becoming prominent as technology rises to the “medieval” level.
Thus, the populus has small inducement to risk the hazards of travel and
usually live out their lives within short distance of their birthplace,
excepting nomads and hunting parties. This further restricts the propagation
of technology.

Technological breakthroughs are generally regarded as the closely
guarded secrets of priests, guildmasters, and rulers . . . and are disseminated
to the average citizen or tribesman only when it serves the
purpose of the possessor of same. One can easily imagine that “magic
swords” were indeed wielded in days of yore . . . being more flexible,
staying sharp longer, of lighter weight and therefore faster, and constructed
with hand guards able to withstand stout direct blows. Ask any
metallurgist about the ritual tempering of steel in living blood to produce
the fabled blades of the Middle East. The raw materials were available.
elsewhere, but no ruler could glean the secret of Damascus steel from
the privileged few.

The areas where technology has developed beyond the normal
weal should be located at some point conducive to the dissemination of
knowledge. Rivers are the superhighways of the ancient and medieval
civilizations, and real advantage accrues to trade centers located thereon.
This should not exclude the possibility of a “lost” civilization of advanced
technology, cut off by some catastrophe of major dimension or pur-
posely kept secret by powerful magics or technology in some fantasy
campaigns. But they are the exception, not the general case. Nor are
established trade routes to be excluded from a non-standard technology
campaign; they must involve much peril, however.

Areas with higher technology must be located near areas with
agrarian capacity to support the increased specialization mentioned
earlier. A favorable climate is also desirable for favored technological
areas. Creature comforts must be obtained with reasonable ease to
permit the more energetic to achieve higher goals. Periods of peace
enforced by a strong military presence would permit a relaxing of some
of the barriers of trade, thereby increasing the stimuli of foreign ideas. A
resource to attract these traders and increase specialization would also
encourage technology.

Some interesting benefits accrue in a non-standard technology
campaign, although it must be considered early in the design stage or
the range of technology might not fit the mythos desired. It is quite
rewarding to observe the distraction of a player-character far from home
attempting to purchase a light horse with worthless soft metal discs in an
area where barter is the only trade medium technologically available. As
with characteristics for types of creatures, I would recommend a mode
of something akin to medieval technology with a spread on the lower
end back to the Bronze or Stone age and at the upper end up to early
Renaissance or Late Medieval technology. One last caution: The highest
technology extant in an area well may be common knowledge but will
also command the highest prices and may be rare or uniquely controlled
to retain its use in that area for obvious advantage of the controller.

Religion is a fertile source of cults, political factions, subcultures,
mores, and social structure. It is the wellspring of a whole character class.
It has inspired warfare from the beginning of mankind’s history. For
those judges who prefer a one-mythos campaign, I recommend that
you skip this section; it has little to offer you.

Most fantasy literature presupposes a multitudinous approach to
religion. The introduction of many pantheons in a campaign will generally
enrich it. While some societies may be based solely on a “state”
religion, the interesting variety of religions in densely populated areas is
obvious.

In fantasy role-playing, it makes the non-player characters more
believable, inasmuch as they are split into factions and yet practice some
tolerance to live together. I dislike sending the player-character to any or
every village populated by humans to visit the temple of his choice as
much as I dislike sending them to Elfland to hire Elves. Any civilized or
barbaric group will have more than one religion, although the one that
isn’t predominant may be a branch of the main one (mode). I like to
have no fixed method of determining how many religions will be
practiced in an area, but recommend that the number rise geometrically
with the population . . . resplendent with false gods, minor gods, household
gods, and class gods.

The judge need not enumerate or “flesh out” any more than
necessary at any point in his campaign. Leave it up to the playercharacter
clerics to determine rituals, hierarchy titles, and the less important
details of the minor religions unless it is important to the action in
your campaign. While it leaves few decisions for your clerics to make if
you have few religions, the introduction of many religions will put
political and social limits on the sway of the religions in your campaign,
making it more competitive for the clerics and a ready source of quests,
conflicts, and conversions. Not every religion needs a temple, but every
judge needs controls and motivators in a large campaign.

Languages have been frequently glossed over in many campaigns
because of the need to encourage, not discourage, interaction between
the players and the non-player characters which add spice to play. All
intelligent creature types will develop unique dialects if separated by any
real distance from their fellow creatures.

The common tongue should pose a real danger of misinterpretation
every time it is used to communicate with creatures of less than average
intelligence, and even highly intelligent creatures if the player-characters
have traveled far from their original stamping grounds. In other words,
the common tongue should develop dialects as the player-characters
move further away from the place where they learned it. The introduction
of some dialectic differences and different languages for the same
type of creatures will not increase playability for action at the inception 
of a campaign, but will tend to restrict the movement of playercharacters
to fairly familiar territory (unless at the head of any army or
the shoulder of an interpreter), until later in the campaign when the
judge will be better prepared for such expeditions (or invasions). This
may at first seem like a less important control for a large campaign, but it
does have impact and will limit the wanderlust until you are able to cope.

Thus ends my diatribe against mothers, apple pie, and standardization.
Although I abhor complication for the sake of miniscule tweaks
which have little impact or importance on outcome in a game because it
sacrifices playability, the net effect of a few design considerations when
setting up a campaign will do nothing to harm play, spark the imagination,
aid in the controlled growth of player-characters, and add much to
the pleasure to be had by all.