Worldbuilding 5j: Country Towns

Whether or not the reader chooses to go the route I'm taking, i.e., building a thorough generated world that goes on and on, I encourage creating as much distinction as possible between one habitation centre and another.  All towns are not the same!  Some are frenetic, some are sleepy, some are old and staid, others are new and bursting with energy.

On the whole, I've decided to classify my world's common towns into three forms, occurring in type-3, type-2 and type-1 hexes.  These forms are "country town," "artisan town" and "commercial town."  Commercial towns are filled with middle-tier entrepreneurs buying and selling goods accumulated from others.  Artisan towns make things; they're Medieval industrial centres.  Country towns are of the "third rank," being inactive, tranquil places whose defining qualities are administrative.  Yes, there's some manufacture, and yes there's some commercial taking place ... but these things are happening on such a small scale compared to first rank and second rank cities and towns that country towns are still essentially self-governing.

That is, most of the decisions are still being made by local authorities, without much intercedence by provincial lords or monarchs.  Wealth is generated by agriculture; from this, the authorities skim payments in the form of taxation, returning writs, farming payments of fee (food turned over to the local noble), selling offices, presiding over the marketplace, holding land, issuing by-laws, wielding a minor degree of judicial authority ... which minor authorities gain while being ignored by the greater authorities elsewhere in the realm.  A small stipend is sent up the chain, but most of it remains in the local lord or lady's hands, to be spent as they will.  Ultimately rents contribute more income than taxes, creating payments that are not sent upstream into the general coffers of the realm.

In this environment, a wealthier class dwells in "messuages," a dwelling house with outbuilding and land assigned to the owner's use for various applications — tanning, perfuming, quarrying, raising horses and so on.  These messuages are dispersed over a wide area and not contained by a town wall, allowing the residents to be "part of the town" while according a considerable autonomy.  Paths and roads wind through the "suburban" dwellings towards a central "main town," with this arrangement being different from the semi-clustered and relatively smaller village.  A country town has a population of anywhere between 500 and 2,000, though in and around 1,000 is most common.

The inner center is marked by two-story houses, usually half-timbered, workshops, commercial buildings such as a public house, a bakery, an inn and a blockhouse for a small constabulary.  Adjacent to this center is a large bare area for the by-weekly market and stockyards, with areas for temporary pens to be set up ... and near the market is the "demesne," consisting of the lord or lady's messuage, potentially complete with small moat, tower or low walls.  A legitimate noble dwells here, most likely a baronet or baron, very rarely a count, though such persons are most likely represented by a bailiff or steward.  Attached to the demesne is a barracks with the noble's retainers, including a hayward and a reeve to manage the fields and enforce the noble's authority.  Unlike the village, the local authority has almost entirely fallen out of the locals' hands.  There is still a town council and elders, but these gather to decide how best to put their requests to the noble, not to pass edicts.  Townspeople do not regain their power again until the election of a burgher and the presence of a town hall, which occurs when manufacturing expands the country town into an artisan town.  We'll talk more about that another day.

The best times for the residents are market days.  Games and contests (not jousting, but things like apple bobbing and blind man's bluff) are complimented with opportunities for public bathing and eating rare foods — sometimes offered as free samples or gifts on holy days.  The noble might lay out a meal once or twice a year.  Younger members of the town might steal away into the bushes surrounding the town's centre, especially in the summer.  In winter, there may be no market days for two months at a time, since there are no products to sell and the weather may be onerous to potential customers, particularly those from outside the town.  This suspension is broken by feast days like Christmas, Ash Wednesday and Palm Sunday.

A "bailiff's court" is held on market days; often called a "three weeks court," because it meets only every three weeks.  The bailiff adjudicates disputes, orders payments that haven't been made, consigns individuals to the town stocks if need be, and holding others for final judgment by the lord or lady if torture or death is commended.  One or two cells may exist in the demesne, but often those awaiting judgment are confined in an outdoor gibbet or weighed down with shackles and chains, making flight from the town very risky and impractical.  Everyone outside the town, encountering a stranger dressed in heavy chains, would have no reason to trust such a person as anything but a deserving criminal.

No house or building could be built, nor sale of land made, without approval of the bailiff and, by extension, by the local lord or lady.  The players would find it difficult to "move in" to such a place without having first established a positive reputation through service or action of some kind.  Nonetheless, they would find it more comfortable than a village, with more to buy and with greater opportunities to acquire good labour.  Setting themselves up with a sizable messuage, then hiring a steward to look after the day to day, the party could provide a reasonable regular income for themselves while continuing to adventure — along with a sound, strong place in which to store goods and hoard some of their wealth.

Here, then, is a break-down of the facilities to be found in a type-3 hex, where a country town exists:

Everything on the list above would exist in a country town, many things in multiple numbers.  For example, there'd be more than one bakery, more than one temple and probably more than one religious group (though the secondary group would be no more than 3-8% of the whole).  A waterfront would have 2-3 quays, creating a wharf and adding warehouses.

I've changed "modest temple" to "lower temple;" this is a one-room worshipping space relying on an adjacent house and outer building for tools and seasonal materials.  The "middle" temple takes these and puts them in one building, so that the priest lives in a back room with an attached kitchen and yard for a dairy animal, chickens and workspace.  A cellar stores food and offers room for church stores, festival clothing and other items, wine, host and so on.

But as before, I'll be writing overview posts for most of these things that I haven't touched upon yet.  For those unable to search a dictionary, a "glebe" is a piece of land forming part of a clergy's benefice ... essentially, land the cleric is able to work or give to others to work.  This can be managed however the local priest sees fit, as it's his or hers, to raise money for use as charity, improvement of the parish or otherwise to exploit in an unbefitting (but all too common) personal manner.

Until the next post, then.

Worldbuilding 4b: Mivior

"When a fighter attains 9th level (Lord), he or she may opt to establish a freehold.  This is done by building some type of castle and clearing the area in a radius of 20 to 50 miles around the stronghold, making it free from all sorts of hostile creatures.  Whenever such a freehold is established and cleared, the fighter will: (1) automatically attract a body of men-at-arms ...; (2) collect a monthly revenue of 7 silver pieces for each and every inhabitant ..."

— page 22, original DMG

This is the "End Game," a term I didn't hear until the internet.  Frankly, the idea made zero sense to me and to my early players.  If a zero-level character buys a piece of hinterland, and does nothing with it, including not "clearing it," and chooses to rent it to another character, does that mean the renter doesn't have to pay rent?  Obviously, it doesn't.  If an ordinary non-experienced tough in town can gather together a gang of ruffians; or a bandit can get a bunch of other bandits together — and neither has to do so much as nail two pieces of wood together, they why does a 9th level LORD or LADY have to build an entire castle before getting men-at-arms willing to follow his or her commands?  Aren't they following the individual, and NOT the land or the fortress?  And what does any of this have to do with the actual kingdom, which surely would have a say about who gets to build and who gets to demand rent from people residing on land the fighter doesn't own.  What if the character does some service for the state and the state decides to invest him or her with a title, and isn't "9th level"?  Does the king say, "Oh, I'd like to make you a minor baron, but oops, sorry, you're not experienced enough.  Come back later."

It's a kind of meta-game idiocy; one that I've always ignored.  ANY player, of ANY class, can become a lord, since it's not assigned by how much experience and what level you've maintained, but by BIRTH and MERIT ... the latter happening because of what the player does, not what the player is.  If a character has never shown any interest in politics, or a particular kingdom, or made any inroads with the local nobility, or has never done anything for the local authorities, then why should anyone suddenly decide out of the blue, "Oh, you're a 9th level lord!  Here, please take some of my land and make it yours, because you're just so delish!"

I've heard many people express the belief that the "end game" is so-called because it's where all the fun is taken out of adventuring and the character is ready for retirement.  Jeebus.

The end game is the beginning game.  It's the headspace the players should have from the start.  This doesn't preclude adventuring and going into dungeons, and all the things JB calls "recognisable" D&D ... but it DOES assume that these things are done with an end goal in mind: the acquisition of power, wealth, status, support followers and places on the map that are secure for the players.  I recognise that traditional D&D players are fascinated with two-dimensional hollow, toneless escapades into futile and aimless dungeons ... but it's that exact ideal that built the community wide response for MORE STORIES, BETTER STORIES, GREATER CHARACTERS, blah blah blah.

Characters don't need a "backstory."  The setting does.  Adventures don't need a "story."  The setting needs continuity, necessities, grounds for action, principles, a TRAJECTORY, a pretext telling the players what actions are called for and why they should do it.

But no one seems to know how to build a setting; hell, they don't even think a setting is for this.  They think a setting is a "game board," as Original Carl called it.  A thing to be used to tally how many days it takes to move from this dungeon to that dungeon.  So the reach has been for "stories" because it's something low-brow people (including those at the company) can grasp.

To try to explain an alternative, I'll be writing a series within this series, outlining a game world that isn't mine.  Thus explaining a series of possible wholistic campaigns providing a greater depth of play coupled with recognisable D&D.

First, we'll start with a region called "Mivior."   I'll be treating the map exclusively from a D&D perspective, to highlight themes of running a campaign game — and as such, any elements of the game Divine Right, where the map comes from, should be utterly ignored.  For example, for our purposes, we need to view mountains as impassable for an army of any kind, unless there's clear evidence on the map indicating a pass.  A small party could pass through a mountain hex, but with regards to invasion, mountains form a practical defensive barrier.

Please forgive my need to put numbers on everything, and for the difficulty in reading the numbers.  If you open the image in another window, you'll find it's large enough to zoom in, making reading easier; and I'll be putting blow-up shots of individual parts of the map throughout this post.

Let's start with an overview.  Mivior is a mountainous kingdom overlooking the ocean.  The Shaker Mountains form a backbone along the southern third, while Serpent Bay splits the northern third from the rest.  There are four cities: Colist, Boliske, Addat and Boran.  These are rated as to their defense and importance.  Colist is in a white hex, is the King's residence and is rated "4."  Boliske is rated 3, Addat 2 and Boran 1.

Mivior's "troubles," for all kingdoms have troubles, are defined by its "environs."  For this, finding Mivior within the bigger picture by looking here would be beneficial.  Mivior's boundaries include the Sea of Drowning Men; the border with Hothior to the east, defined by the Bad Axe forest and the Shaker Mts.; Trollwood, occupying the land route between the north of Mivior and the south; the deadly huge ancient dragon Urmoff, that rules over Serpent Bay and acts as a hazard to shipping; the Wetlands, in the middle course of The River Sullen, and The Breaking, a cluster of hills north of Addat.  Beyond The Breaking and the Wetland is the heavily forested kingdom of Elfland.  Each of these are an enormous headache for the monarchy, driving internal and external policy, demanding monies and resources, concerns the player characters would need to keep in mind wherever they may happen to be.  We want to dive into those "concerns" with this post — as these provide a playbook describing what the PCs can do to be useful to one side of each conflict or the other, to make themselves wealthy, to increase their number of experience, to make friends and enemies, to get rich and to set up those safe spaces mentioned earlier.

Let's examine the NORTH.

Suppose we define each hex as 40 miles wide.  This puts the edge of The Breaking a mere 25 miles north of Addat; the bottom green edge of Elfland is a little more than 100 miles away; the mouth of the Sullen is 45 miles to the east and the furthest land along the Sullen is 145 miles away (and above that are the Wetlands).  Trollwood is 100 miles away and Urmoff the Serpent is, well, close enough to sink any ship that puts to sea.

As designers, positing the existence of Urmoff, we need to half-way solve this problem for Mivior.  Eventually, the players could get to be high enough level to slaughter Urmoff and become national heroes, but starting at 1st level, that's a long-term goal to say the least.  Clearly, no one in the kingdom is strong enough to do so; for that to make sense, Urmoff has to be extremely powerful, effectively a double- or triple-dragon, 250 hit points, 150 ft. long, etc.  However, like any kingdom with an enemy it can't defeat, Mivior can pay a tribute ... and so, it's agreed that so long as Mivior agrees to provide a sufficient amount of what Urmoff wants — victims, magical essence, agreements to stay out of Serpent Bay, whatever — then Urmoff agrees to leave Mivior's shipping alone.  That still lets Urmoff destroy Hothior shipping, Shucassam shipping or Rombune shipping ... which creates international problems of its own, as these other kingdoms pressure Mivior to do something about Urmoff.  But it does alleviate one of Mivior's problems.  It's vessels can sail securely, and because they can, Mivior can yield much more from the sea than it's competitors.  Mivior, then, is the world's source for fish, shipbuilding, ambergris, crushed seashell and so on.

Addat's principle problem, then, is The Breaking.  As our maps shows this coloured brown, Mivior either can't control it or the land is so poor it's not worth the effort.  Thus the area is occupied by "barbarians," a general term we'll use for anyone not part of a kingdom.  These could be humans, orcs, orcs led by ogres and even ogre magi, whatever we wish.  But, looking at the whole map of Minaria, I suggest The Breaking isn't that significant a hinterland, and that anything truly threatening would also bother the elves of Elfland; so let's say it's a composite of disassociated orcish tribes, raising sheep and scrubby cattle, and forced to raid into Mivior lands whenever their food supply dwindles or they need weapons.  This creates an easy set of adventures for low-level players who set out to clear some of the nearer hills, defend hamlets and thorpes north of Addat ... or venture into the hills to make alliances, gather one or two tribes together and, Conan-like, lead the tribes to raiding Mivior's territory.  There's no expectation the players have to be on Mivior's side.

The trolls of Trollwood offer a deeper problem.  Their violations of Mivior territory are far more dangerous and severe; Addat can probably manage the west bank of the Sullen — which we can postulate is a deep, swollen river with undertows, and probably an estuary at the mouth in M05.  Mivior can build forts on the west bank along M02, M05 and M06 ... but protecting the east bank wouldn't be so easy.  No doubt, settlers eager for land are constantly trying to make a go of it on the east bank of the Sullen ... and are occasionally killed, eaten, the farms and animals destroyed.  Yet the trolls have no real desire to settle in the flatlands outside their forest.  Undoubtably, the lowlands of the Sullen are rich lands, and perhaps there's a monster fortress in  M07 or M09 that can provide shelter for refugees when the trolls decide to invade.  There might even be alarm arrangements to warn peasants that troll groups are on the move.

This creates an interesting back and forth for these lands.  The players can try to set themselves up as local "troll-hunters," providing reassurance to a group of farmers they're paid to protect.  At the same time, fighting trolls and gathering money is a great way to accumulate levels 4 to 7.  The players might even venture into Trollwood itself, in quest for some "troll-protecting amulet" that the trolls have hidden, or to release some underdark enemy from the mountains south of The Stone Face, the seat of troll power — svirfneblin, say; someone the trolls can manage but will take a year or two.  Keep in mind, Addat and Mivior would love to make those lands east of the Sullen productive, as it would increase their exports and provide more food for their people, increasing their overall population and thus helping create a bigger army and other fortifications to fight off the trolls or use in their disputes with Hothior or abroad (Mivior occasionally takes part in foreign wars, after all).  A group of players might be exactly what's needed to "get the ball rolling" in Mivior's favour, by helping Mivior get a better foothold on its own territory.

North of Trollwood, there are barbarians in the Wetlands too.  These are too far to practically raid into Mivior proper, but The River Sullen is an economic route between Ider-Bolis of Elfland and Addat.  The eighty mile stretch of slow water surrounded by bogs and fens (a northern marsh rather than something like a bayou) makes barges vulnerable to masses of tribal groups in skiffs with spears.  These wetlands are divided by the hills ("the High Marches") surrounding The Invisible School of Thaumaturgy ... but perhaps the tribal raiders trade whatever they find with the mages there.  An agreement to pole a barge upstream and fight off raiders could lead the players from Addat into the mysterious lands of the School; this being a group of active and well-meaning scholars ... but we can discuss them another day.

Elves drift down the river and into Addat, so there's plenty of opportunity for these to give information to the players, to explain the troubles going on above and give the players an opportunity to be forewarned and forearmed.  It's up to the players to look over the geopolitical landscape and try to solve the problems themselves ... assuming, of course, that they're not hopelessly traditional and vacuous with regards to their gaming motives.  It's up to us to lead them a bit by the nose, having others suggest how the players can play their part in the grand schemes of other persons ... and hope the players decide they can "do better" with these problems than NPCs.

Moving onto CENTRAL Mivior.

Our goal is to create interesting, unique parts of the world that offer novelty for the players.  "Boran on the Moor" gives us a great inspiration: M13 and M15, shown as clear hexes on the map, are not rich farmlands or pastures, they're unproductive moors, like those in western Ireland or in Brittany.  The Shaker mountains force Boran's attention on the sea, and we can imagine the moors are located above high, rocky cliffs, blasted by severe storms that strike the west side of Mivior from Serpent Bay south.

But remember, the Sea of Drowning Men is Mivior's best friend.  Tribute transforms Urmoff into a kind of ally, while providing Mivior with riches.  I choose to see "The Shining Isle" of Boliske as a facetious play on words; the isle itself is likely rocky and as pleasant as Scotland's Hebrides.  But Boliske itself might be virtually impregnable, an excellent refuge for Mivior privateers, private vessels paid to attack non-Mivior shipping and bring it home.  The "shining" is therefore the piles of glistening booty stolen from ships and brought to Boliske, the most hated fortress outside of Mivior.

Meanwhile, the capes in M10 and M15 might drive truly daunting storms into the gullet of Boran, challenging the survivability of the town and limiting its residents.  Here's a scene from 1970s Ryan's Daughter to give a taste of what the storms might be like.  Parts of the world like this would get rich with "wrecker gangs," plundering ships that would founder on the rocks, detailed in novels like Jamaica Inn or in Stan Rogers' delightful The Wreck of the Athens Queen (sorry about the last, it requires a Canadian or a Mainer to understand the lyrics).

Therefore, though Boran or Boliske offer something of a claustrophobic campaign, with short journeys into the wild Shaker Mts. (where a few trolls may be found from Trollwood), there's opportunities for the players to be granted a smashed ship to plunder, a survivor to provide some tale to be told, a chance to become a privateer for Mivior ... even a chance to explore the small woodland north of Boran, fight some wolves or a Banshee, and get a sight of Serpent Bay — and perhaps of Urmoff himself, a terrifying prospect.

The "Shaker" mountains may indeed shake.  There may be a convergent boundary between lithospheric plates, creating very deep water along Mivior's coast and earthquakes up and down the mountains, like those occasionally experienced by British Columbia and especially Alaska.  We could roll 3d6 each game day, with three sixes offering an earthquake of 6 or more on the richter scale within 1 to 100 miles of the party.  That would certainly shake up a campaign.

And the SOUTH.

The westerlies hit the west shore of Mivior so hard that Colist has to be on the eastern side of the Mivior peninsula.  I choose to see M26, M30, M32 and M33 as mountains, though it doesn't show on the map, because it would have been difficult for the artist to insert them.  The forests of M22 and M26 therefore are have dense, massive trees, like the old growth of the Olympia Peninsula, in Washington state.  Colist, comparatively, is a sheltered rock shelf, highly defended, ridiculously wealthy and protected by a massive fleet.  Anything can be bought in Colist, though it's hard to access from the rest of Mivior.

East of the Shaker Mts. are five blank hexes, hemmed in by the border of Hothior and the Bad Axe forest.  This plain depends on the sea for its access, as the Shaker Mountains limit the practicality of a road between the plain and Colist ... and that makes it vulnerable to Hothior, who'd like to take the plain from Colist.  However, Hothior's own imperialist intentions are marred by the tangled Bad Axe forest; with a name like "Bad Axe," we can assume it's not army-friendly.  It's not the "Easy Walk" forest.  So, with both entities hamstrung in their control, we should assume the land has been fought over dozens of times ... and that the people are ethnically a mixture of Miviorians and Hothiorians.  No doubt, internally, the people have little love for one another.

An area like this makes difficult campaigning for players who like clear-cut goals and easy wins.  Both kingdoms claim the land; both are equally balanced in the claim and neither are certain to hold the land, even if they do succeed in winning a victory this time around.  The plain itself has no rivers that appear on the map; but we know from our frontier post that scores of little rivulets must pour down from the Shaker Mts. into the sea.  That's important.  Rivers, even small streams, carry down placer deposits, make good farm and pastureland — and create strong, stable ethnic groups.  A war might break out between Mivior and Hothior only every 20 to 50 years ... and meanwhile, this plain gives excellent access to both kingdoms, the sea and much of the wider game world.  In some ways, it's a better place to settle than anywhere around Addat or Boran.  Despite the threat of Hothior, it's generally safer.

I hope that from this the reader can see how the LAND drives adventure, through the way that different parts create troubles and impossible solutions for the inhabitants.  The players are asked not to wait for 9th level!  To roll up their sleeves and get involved, to attack the problems as they see fit, within the restrictions provided by their level, the local agendas and the limitations on local imaginations.  The DM is responsible for outlining these troubles, but not providing solutions.

... and still, that doesn't keep us from having the locals do the stupidest thing possible, to help convince the party that they can do better.