Parenting by Culture in My Homebrew Setting

In my never-ending quest to define every element of life in my homebrew setting, I have set upon yet another frontier--what is parenting like in my world? I've been thinking lately about how much a difference parenting makes in the life of a person, and it seems strange to me that it's so rarely depicted or discussed in tabletop games. So often, characters' backstories posit that they've lost their family, perhaps tragically or through some terrible misunderstanding. But for storywriting and roleplaying, a character's family--especially their parenting--matters a lot. In the past, I've done fairly deep exploration of the relationships my characters have had, and it's really enriched my experience. So, for this article, I'll be going in-depth on each of my setting's eight dominant cultures attitudes and practices of parenting. This may help players in future campaigns to better imagine their characters and where they come from, and it will also help me better understand my own work. So let's get started. 

Daltoners - Daltoners almost exclusively marry for the purpose of childrearing. They tend to get married young and have children frequently. Though there certainly are Daltoner families with 2-4 children, most Daltoners have (and strive for) closer to 6-10 children. Most Daltoners on Evanoch claim that this practice comes from the high child mortality rate on the home island of Dalton; families would have many children to end up with an average-sized family. But on Evanoch, where life is markedly better, the result has been larger families. Other groups have argued that part of this tendency to have many children is part of Daltoners' cultural ideology of imperialism--more children means more people who believe what the Daltoners believe. Children tend to be viewed as both a familial legacy and a source of labor. Daltoner men are expected to be their children's primary teachers, and women are expected to provide most of the rest of the childrearing work. 

In terms of parenting style, Daltoner parents tend to be both somewhat controlling and very authoritarian. Most Daltoner parents guide their children to live with the same values and ideas as their culture, and this is performed aggressively. Many Daltoner children are punished for not adhering to Daltoner customs, often with corporal punishment. Daltoner parents tend to think of hitting their children as a corrective measure which helps the child to better behave. Daltoner children are instilled with values such as obedience, politeness, and diligence. Daltoner parents address their children as inferiors and are often heard making sarcastic remarks about their children. Sibling rivalries between Daltoner children tend to be fierce, as their parents often pit the children against each other. 

Faninites - Faninites regard having and raising a child as an endeavor that requires serious attention and which provides enormous joy. Faninites' belief that childrearing is such an important task leads them to have relatively few children--most Faninite families have 1-2 children, and almost never more than 3. Faninites say that this is so that they can guarantee complete focus on their children without being distracted. Because Faninites take this responsibility so seriously, they sometimes wait until later in life to have children so that their situation will be more stable and they will have more wisdom to offer. Other groups tend to look at Faninites as being overly precious with their children from time to time, but most people agree that Faninites tend to have the happiest families. Faninite children are viewed by their parents as complete, distinct individuals who are especially vulnerable. Faninite fathers are expected to do the majority of childrearing activities, but in most Faninite households, the share of work is fairly evenly split. 

As parents, Faninites are very careful to walk the middle path between providing support and guiding and trying to exert control. Faninite parents tend to instill values in the child that will unquestionably serve them as the grow--values like compassion, willingness to work, and self-awareness--but they also try to help their children to learn more about and practice the values that the child discovers and is interested in. Faninite parents will only object to their children's choices when the child does something that could harm themselves or someone else, and only then by questioning the child's thinking and helping them reevaluate the situation. These parents address their children as essentially adults, even from infancy, and always adopt a very compassionate and patient tone. (When a Faninite behaves thoughtlessly or impatiently, other Faninites sometimes say that "they are not ready to be a parent yet" as a way of acknowledging the behavior.) When a Faninite child does have a sibling or siblings, they are encouraged to rely on one another, and these relationships are noted as being powerfully strong throughout the lives of the growing Faninite child. 

Dwarves - Dwarves think of childrearing as a task that matters to dwarven society, thereby making it their responsibility to contribute to dwarvenkind; they also think of having children as being a chance for economic prosperity. Because dwarves have historically been organized by clans, familial pride is very important, and legacy is a prized thing for dwarves. Dwarves are highly individual about the size of their families, as this was usually determined by clan (and thereby how many people could be supported by the clan). This established customs for the various clans, and so there are a few groups worth noting: the Cave Dwarves (so named for the caves rather than carved homes they lived in) who tend to have 1-3 children, the Carved Dwarves (so named for the early carved homes of Underhar) who usually have 2-5 children, and the Chief Dwarves (so named for the early ancestors who helped found Underhar) who mostly have 4-6 children. Non-dwarves tend to view dwarves as being emotionally detached from their children, in part because emotional attachment to children is not culturally prized for dwarves. Dwarven children are viewed by their parents as potential--potential to financially support the parents, to uplift (or tarnish) the family name, to become a person of note. The vast majority of childrearing work is performed by dwarven women; dwarven men mainly contribute in the form of discipline.

As parents, dwarves tend to encourage their children to follow in the footsteps of ancestors rather than walk a new path. Most dwarves perform the same trade that their parents did for their entire lives, living in the same neighborhood they grew up in, talking to their same friends from childhood. Dwarven parents instill values such as tradition, honor, and directness--the same things that would be required for the growing dwarf to become a model citizen in dwarven society. Because dwarves are so attached to the "proper" ways of doing things, they tend to pressure their children into behaving as the parent sees fit, keeping many young dwarves from exploring their own interests. Dwarven parents talk to their children as superiors to inferiors; dwarves argue that their children are dependent on them, creating that dynamic naturally. Dwarven siblings tend to be close as children and grow apart as adults; as children, their siblings are just about the only source they have for companionship and emotional connection, but by the time they are adults, most dwarves have been acculturated with their society's detachment, and the relationships fade.

Orcs - Orcs view childrearing as the single greatest purpose of domestic life, and orcs who have committed to raising a family view it with the utmost solemnness. On the dangerous island of Grob, where orcs originate, raising a child to adulthood is a serious feat, and because orcs care so deeply for their children, keeping them safe becomes a vital pursuit for orcish parents. Orcs tend to have 2-3 children during their lifetimes, though in two periods of orcish history, there was a cultural push to have larger families to replenish orcish communities after costly wars with the elves. Outsiders to orcish society tend to entirely misunderstand the nature of orcish parent-child relationships; because showing emotion other than anger is generally frowned upon in orcish society, the compassion in orcish parental relationships is kept private, and as a result, outsiders only see parents and children being very serious and detached in public. Orcish parents look at their child in a complicated fashion: children are extensions of the parent, a hope for the future, and as complex beings in their own right (but beings who are fundamentally unknowable). This combines into a sense of awe surrounding children. Both orcish men and women take important and interchangeable roles in childrearing. 

Orcish parents consider it their job to teach their children the vital skills of survival, leaving the rest of their children's interests up to them. Views of what these vital skills consist of vary between individuals--many orcs who live in their homeland still teach hunting and first aid skills early in life, of course along with multiple styles of combat, but orcs who have moved to cities across Evanoch now teach other skills like bargaining and crafts to sell, with combat remaining a component of the education. Orcs instill values such as curiosity, awareness, and diplomacy in their children. This is surprising to some Evanines, who see orcs as angry and warlike--however, anger is only expressed by orcs when diplomacy has failed. Orcish parents allow their children to experiment and make mistakes so long as they will be safe, and they nearly always support their children when the children express interests that the parents themselves do not personally understand. Orcish siblings share intense relationships; they often experience fierce sibling rivalries that are misunderstood as genuinely antagonistic by outsiders, but they also enjoy incredibly loyal and supportive friendships. 

Elves - Elves view childrearing as a difficult and trying obligation. Because elves live to such exceptionally late ages, the practical reality is that they could quickly overpopulate the continent if they had children as regularly as other groups. This has resulted in a cultural practice of being very selective about having children. Over the course of an elf's lifetime, it is expected that they will have no more than three children in a lifetime, with the most respected number being two. The general guideline that elves observe and share with one another is that it is appropriate to have a child once ever three hundred or so years. Some renegade elves have raised larger families, but this carries a heavy price of social exclusion. At the same time, elves know that not having children could mean the dwindling away of the elves, and so they observe the obligation to mate at least once in a lifetime. Elven parent-child relationships tend to be very businesslike. Elven parents address their children as adults, and they expect adult behavior and responses from their children. Emotions are spoken around rather than about--elven parents focus on practical solutions in this regard. Elven parents look at their children as unformed people, almost as clay that can be formed into something valuable--raising a child who grows into a respected elf is considered a great honor, and in fact, many elves view the child's successes as attributable to their parent. Elves expect mothers to do most childrearing work when the child is young, and then gives an increasing amount of responsibility to the father until they are primarily caring for the elven child as a young adult. 

Elves knows that they can pursue a great many things during their long lives, so they tend to work harder to expose their children to as many possibly pursuits as opposed to specializing in a few. As a result, elven education at home and in early stages at elven schools is much more about breadth than depth--an elven child might be exposed to every topic one might study at Mishara University before being expected to hold their first job. Elves instill values such as individuality, reflection, and genuineness in their children; these values are crucial in elven society, but they also make the parenting experience easier. Elven parents tend to be facilitators more than leaders--with the wealth of elven experts, elven parents tend to think of themselves more as people who are responsible for connecting their children with the right teachers. Elves mostly do genuinely care about their children, but the stereotype of elves among outsiders is that elves seem to feel stuck with their children. It would be closer to the truth to say that elves feel that they are (philosophically, at least) unable to be ideal parents, so they go about it with a kind of caution. Elven siblings are rarely very close since they are rarely had close together, but once elven siblings are both adults, they tend to become fairly supportive of one another. 

Half-elves - Half-elves tend to have very mixed feelings about childrearing. Because half-elves are social outcasts among many of their elven and human ancestors, the idea of having children who would themselves be outcasts is a difficult thing to face. Many half-elves choose not to have children at all, and those who do are very cautious about the process. There is a notable trend of adoption in the half-elven community. When half-elves do have children, they tend to have 1-2 children. Half-elven parents take on protector roles, trying to save their child from experiencing anything harmful. This results in half-elven parents who range from vigilant caretakers to hovering worriers. Most half-elven parents speak to their children both gently and directly; they emphasize trust in the parent-child relationship. Half-elven parents perceive their children as a responsibility, but with a positive connotation--someone that they get to take care of. In half-elven relationships, parental responsibilities are delegated based on capability and availability. This means that tasks can be assigned in different ways between families, and it is accepted that whatever is best for the child is more important than tradition.

Half-elves largely teach their children the same things that their ancestors did: from the Faninites, half-elves gain a balanced approach to gently guiding their children, and from the elves, they find an interest in exposing their children to many ideas and pursuits. This means that the children of half-elves are highly centered people, as they have been raised to be. Half-elves often instill the values of creativity, understanding, and self-sufficiency--this makes their children especially inclined to live nomadic and independent lifestyles. Half-elves love their children, but they often try to not let their emotions about their children overwhelm them and distort their thinking; this leads to affectionate but reserved parent-child relationships. When half-elven parents have more than one child, they encourage the children to form a bond, but place more emphasis on learning to be self-sufficient, so most sibling relationships in half-elven families are fairly restrained.

Gnomes - Gnomes have few defining trends when it comes to childrearing, but they do generally agree that raising children is an act that isn't as hard as other groups believe it to be. This is due in part to their method of childrearing (more later). Gnomish families range widely in size--some gnomish families have a child or two, and others have as many as twelve. When gnomes are parents, they tend to view their role as that of provider--they do what they can to ensure that the children are safe, fed, and healthy. Their role more or less ends there, however; gnomes believe that children should largely learn about the world by discovering it themselves. Due to societal views on the importance of enjoying one's pursuits, gnomish parents tend to let their children decide what to discover for themselves. As a result, many outsiders to gnomish society see gnomish parents as absentees who ignore their children. Gnomish parents would counter that they are preventing their children from being forced into a life they don't want to lead and allowing them to learn naturally. Gnomish parents view their children as curiosities to be protected, not unlike an especially unique gadget. In gnomish relationships, men are expected to do most of the work with occasional support for their partners, while women are expected to become more involved with financial work; however, because childrearing is so minimal among gnomes, this does not amount to much work for either on the whole.

Gnomes do teach things to their children when the children seek them out for advice and education. There is a certain social prestige for gnomish parents who are asked by their child to learn their trade; this prestige increases is the child turns out to be talented, especially more talented than the parent. Despite the value of this prestige, gnomes still resist the impulse to try to inspire interest in their own pursuits. Gnomish parents often instill the values of ingenuity, individuality, and thrift. The combination of these values usually leads to young gnomes who are especially interested in financial prosperity, leading to the stereotype among outsiders that gnomes are greedy. Gnomes are somewhat similar in regarding their children as they are in regarding their pets--they do care about them, but they express that affection indirectly through providing things for the child. Gnomish parents who dearly care about their children often give thoughtful gifts, but don't really say that they care with words. Gnomish siblings are as various as gnomish families in general, but there are three general groups of sibling relationships: 1 - the incredibly closely-bonded siblings who discover the world together, 2 - the competitive siblings who use one another as a benchmark for success, and 3 - the siblings who entirely ignore one another in favor of their own experiences.

Halflings - Halfling attitudes about childrearing are deeply influenced by the halfling cultural belief that people should be self-dependent. So extreme is this belief that halfling childrearing is perceived by outsiders are bizarre and sometimes as barbaric. Having a child, then, means taking care of a being that is inherently not self-dependent. Halfling feelings about this conflict are complicated, but generally, halflings agree that occasionally enduring childrearing is worth it. Halflings tend to have 1-3 children over the course of their lives. Halfling parents tend to assume the loose role of teaching the child as much as they reasonably can before the child, between the ages of ten and fifteen, is abandoned to make a life on its own. This is performed so that the child will adapt and learn to be self-sufficient; it is also out of respect for halfling parents, who often want to focus on their own lives once they have raised their child. Halfling parents range from considering their children to be burdens to seeing them as a trial that potentially benefits the world. Halfling custom dictates that the mother in the relationship, as the leader in the halfling matriarchal society, be solely responsible for raising the child; the male halfling is not afforded the trust to succeed at childrearing. It is expected that the mother terminate her relationship with the father until the child has been raised and abandoned.

When a halfling mother begins to teach her child how to be self-sufficient, she focuses on practical skills; most every halfling child can cook, sew, hunt, and produce crafts by the age of five. Other commonly taught skills in halfling homes include tanning, herbalism, safe foraging, calligraphy, and basic agriculture. Most every halfling mother teaches her children her trade, and a sizable portion of halfling parents train their children in stealth and ranged combat. Because halflings are so physically vulnerable, they try to counteract that with their own threats. Halfling mothers offer values as varied as they themselves, but in general, they teach their children to depend only on themselves, to look for opportunities and exploit them, and to be skeptical of what others have to say. These cultural beliefs are not very well known outside of halfling society, especially since halflings generally adopt highly cheerful demeanors in social situations, which obscures a good deal of how cynically they can view the world. Despite the harshness of halfling family relationships, many halfling mothers do genuinely care about their children; most express that sentiment to their children in private, though not in public. Halfling mothers are often regarded with mixed feelings by adult halflings, as the memory of being abandoned during childhood leaves many with complicated emotions. Halfling siblings are all but nonexistent, as there is a cultural taboo on having more than one child at a time (the belief being that it takes immense focus to perform it correctly with only one child, so it is self-defeating to unnecessarily divide your attention). On the few occasions that halflings have more than one child at the same time, the younger child is to be adopted by someone who can care for it until the older child is abandoned. 

There you have it--a guide to the family life in my homebrew setting. Writing this, it was rewarding to see how certain ideas connected and diverged within and between cultures. I really like that there's some overlap; I can imagine a half-elf and a halfling bonding over stories about stressful parent relationships in a knowing way. I also want to note how the elves and orcs have a few big similarities, which is something I've been doing for a long time. My take on the elf-orc feud inherent in D&D mythology is that they're actually incredibly similar but don't recognize it because of their conflict. And I can certainly say that writing backstory for a character in my world just got a lot easier--now I know entirely what their upbringing was probably like, which opens doors for me to lean into the world or stand out as an exception. As always, writing about your setting yields great results. 

That's all for now. Coming soon: a guide to my homebrew Underdark, how I connect with my characters, and clothing by culture in my homebrew setting. Until next time, happy gaming!

The 10 Most Important Lessons I've Learned as a Veteran GM

I've been running tabletop games for over half my life at this point--more than 17 years as of the writing of this article. And as any GM does, I have learned a lot from my experiences. If you're not learning from each session, I suggest spending more time in- and out-of-game reflecting on those experiences--it's the doorway to growth in the art. Of course, there is a shortcut: learning those lessons from people who know. That's why I thought that after over 200 articles on this site, it was worth investigating what I've most importantly learned as a GM. So here is a list of ten of the most important lessons I've learned as a GM in my time with gaming (in no particular order). 

1. Follow every idea for a while--you never know what you'll find. 

In a standard TTRPG experience, there are loads of crazy, half-formed ideas that get suggested, debated, and often enacted. Similarly, wild suggestions about what might be going on in the world get made frequently. It's tempting as a GM to try to work around these distractions--they're getting in the way of your story, right? 

I disagree. Following the trails of these little distractions are often why some players enjoy the game. The kind of bizarre shenanigans that arise in a common tabletop game don't come up in most other games, and some people come seeking that. At least get a sense of what your players enjoy before curtailing this kind of thing. 

In a campaign I ran that focused on these kinds of strange antics, I struggled at first to know when to keep things focused and when to let the players run wild. I quickly found that their style of play was best suited to me setting up a situation before they would try to take advantage of it. Most of our playtime revolved--much to my players' enjoyment--around these moments, and I wouldn't have been able to offer them that without allowing every idea to be explored as much as the players wanted. It's what TTRPG memories are made of. 

2. Treat the game as an emotionally safe space for your players (unless explicitly agreed upon). 

Playing a tabletop game, even without focusing on roleplaying and immersion, can be a vulnerable experience. I know that when I'm deep in character, the imagined violence around my character gives me a strong reaction by proxy. And even if you're not pretending to be someone else entirely, you're looking for a fun experience. For lots of different reasons, most of the people who come to tabletops are looking for a positive experience (even if there's tension involved). 

Nevertheless, there are GMs who tell stories of deep and disturbing trauma. I won't deny that exploring those themes in an imagined space like TTRPGs makes them more accessible, but I would counter that it's also not everyone's definition of fun. I've tried running really dark campaigns before, and my players balked and really engaging with it. It just made them uncomfortable. I realized then that I had been trying to make our collective game about a vision of art only I had, even though my dedicated audience (my players) were not on board. It made me start to put together the idea that game time is better safe--though that's doesn't mean boring. 

A safe space at the table merely means that you're not going to spring anything upsetting on your players. If I get the urge to add very serious or dark material to a campaign, I ask the permission of my players to do so before I develop anything. Asking questions like that have kept me from running into potential conflicts between players and from putting them in a position where their little free time devoted to fun turns into something else entirely. I also include under this lesson that there should be genuine positivity and respect between players--anything shy of that prevents the game from being enjoyable. 

3. Knowing the rules well and being a good GM are not the same thing. 

When I started my first D&D games as a fledgling DM--we played 3.5 back then, as it was the newest edition--I had basically memorized the rulebook. I would impress my gaming friends by asking for a topic in the Players Handbook and give them the correct page number to reference that topic. As a DM, no rules question fazed me, and the rulebook would sit quietly and untouched on the table every session. I was a terrible DM. My players quickly learned that if they dallied from whatever task my NPCs had assigned them, meteors would begin to swarm them or dangerous gods would appear to push the party on. I out-of-game demanded lots of behaviors of my party. It was miserable (at least compared to what I can do now). 

As I continued to DM, I began to gain experience and perspective. I gathered many of the lessons in this list. 4th edition came, and I stuck to 3.5 for a handful of reasons. 5E came, and I jumped aboard. I had to unlearn almost every rule in the Players Handbook and relearn new rules that were just similar enough to the old ones to be confusing. I still accidentally transpose 3.5 rules into 5E games. And none of that really changes the game experience for my players. They don't seem to care if I say something and correct myself a moment later. But following the lessons on this list does make a difference. They know the difference--even if they can't articulate it--between an engaging, dynamic story that allows for collaboration and a story that is set in stone before they ever encounter it. Rules familiarity won't fix that. 

I'm still on a quest to better learn the rules of 5E. They're not useless, but if not being entirely familiar with a rule means you need to look it up, that's not a big problem. Not knowing how to respond meaningfully to your players? That's a big problem, and the rules can't help with it. I know lots of GMs who focus so much on the rulebooks that everything else takes a backseat, and as I said in the second lesson, not everyone plays for that reason. Rules are meant to create a strategic experience, not define the way a story is told, so be more attentive to the game's experience than its rules. 

4. Homebrew for yourself first and your players second. 

I'm very passionate about homebrew, as the thirty (at the time of this writing) articles on this site about my homebrew setting and the twelve (again at the time of this writing) one-shots in custom systems on this site might attest. The thing is, though, I set out initially with something of the wrong idea about how to worldbuild. I thought that I was looking for ways to give my players the exact experience they were looking for. And while that's close to true of many other elements of gaming, it's not the case with worldbuilding and other homebrew material. If you build for your players, you'll always be either guessing at what they want or interrogating them about their tastes and trying to approximate that. Neither is a fun addition to a game. Instead, homebrew basically entirely for yourself. 

This may sound surprising, especially if you're a regular reader on this site. But I do mean it. When you homebrew for your players, you give them what you think they want. In the case of the example above, where I was first starting out as a GM, I gave my players what I thought they wanted: a classic D&D experience. I didn't change anything about the game, but I did add details to it to make it more vibrant, and to a degree, more mine. My initial worldbuilding foundation for my homebrew setting demonstrates this well. Very little changes a common notion of elves or orcs or fantasy life. But as I grew as a GM, I started to make my gameworld more distinct, more my own. Each of the other homebrew guides on this site are examples of this--they take big strides away from the average imagining of a fantasy world, even while staying within the genre. 

Imagine how you would deliver a worldbuilding detail that you believed in, then imagine how you would deliver a similar detail that you didn't. I imagine that you felt yourself selling one much more. This matters. When you're GMing a game and you have an opportunity to characterize your world, how you describe it will affect how the players feel about it. If it's a cool idea that you had and decided to implement, it will come off differently from an idea that you grudgingly adopted from a player suggestion. Of course, the perfect solution is making their suggestion your own while still respecting the player's inspiration, but your motivation should be first to create something you're proud of. And on the topic of tempering player desires into the gameworld . . .

5. You absolutely can and should modify your homebrew materials to give your players what they want. 

So you've created that awesome homebrew world according to your specifications, and now your players want something that doesn't fit. Maybe it's that they want a specific character race that doesn't work in your world (been there). Perhaps you have a player who insists on a backstory that won't fit your setting (done that). Or your homebrew material diverges from a common piece of game lore, and now your player's backstory is based on something you changed (had that happen, too). My solution is best explained via metaphor about computers. 

I keep my homebrew world in a special place in my mind. I mean, I do treasure it, but what I'm saying is that I think of it in a kind of vacuum. That's it's base state. When a campaign fits well within that world, I think of it as being edits to my base gameworld. Most of the campaigns I've run are like this--they fit into and respond to my homebrew setting, so they're canon in my game world. My first real campaign ended with a city destroying itself and starting over as a democracy rather than a kingdom, so that's the new reality of my homebrew setting. People who have played in my world in subsequent campaigns have heard stories of it. But sometimes, things don't fit together right. So those things take place on an alternate saved file of my gameworld. I can keep it exactly how I want it--consistent and canonical--and still make changes to offer my players what they want. 

Maybe this is a thing I'm just particular about, but I suspect that many other GMs have a similar feeling. I've run campaigns where players who said they were up to serious roleplaying turned out to be more inclined to silly shenanigans, and I got really frustrated. I had placed one such campaign in charge of a major piece of my world's history, and they ditched it at the first possible moment in favor of antics. So I made the campaign take place in its own vacuum, and I can preserve that moment in my world's history for another group or my own writing. And in terms of changing things for your players, go wild. I once created custom classes for each player so that they could each feel more in-control of their character and the gaming experience. The only limit to what you give them for character creation should be your own boundaries--how much time will you happily dedicate to homebrewing for them? 

6. Don't perma-kill a player character without discussing it with the player first. 

This is a sweeping rule, but it's an important one. It's also controversial in the gaming community, but I stand by it. It's possible through creativity and fudging rolls to never permanently kill off a player character. But it's not only possible--it's truly advisable. Years ago, when I was running the Eastweald campaign, Carric's player came to me after a session. He said that he had grown tired of Carric. We had had different hopes for where the character would go, and he wanted to start over. He said he wanted to kill off Carric. I considered things for a moment, and I asked him to give me a few sessions. I felt that Carric had grown complacent in his morality (a big deal as a paladin), so I offered him some evil powers. He accepted. Carric's player was engaged again, quietly orchestrating an attempted overthrow of the rest of the party. His player later thanked me (multiple times, actually) for convincing him to continue. I tell this story to make the point that even when a player does think they want their character dead, there are still superior alternatives. 

Perma-death is not fun as a player. I remember watching as my first two characters in D&D were tragically killed. My first was raised sessions later by the party, but the campaign ended there. The second was abandoned by the evil party. This instilled in me the beginnings of this lesson. It's not fun to get killed in tabletop games unless there's a mechanic that means continuing after a character's death. Just being out of the game is a forceful way for the fun to end. GMs who swear by unfudged die rolls in the name of fairness are missing the point. Players generally don't want to die, and killing off their characters is a huge change to the potential fun of the game. 

That's why I recommend talking to players. If you have a plot mechanism that requires a player to do, approach them and discuss it. I think it fair to give them the option to mull the decision over, of course first providing details on the new character to be created unless the player is leaving the group. Ask the player for their input on how the killing scene should go--this is their final moment, and they deserve a say (even if you don't listen since you have something better planned). I will reiterate, though, unless there's an out-of-game reason that you're killing a character, there are better ways to go about it. Magic exists in D&D and a variety of other games--you can always change the character rather than kill them. 

7. Every campaign deserves a little silliness. 

I went through a period as a GM where I was very committed to the idea that because tabletop games are capable of incredible art, then necessarily everyone must agree with me, and I set out to create very serious campaigns that demanded utter commitment to roleplaying and included dramatic scenes meant to surprise. It was good material, but hard to use. Even the most serious tabletop gamers don't want constant drama. Remember that tabletop games are just that--games. They're meant to be fun! And one fun thing that tabletop games seem to be made for is just being silly. 

I tend to get overly focused on my goals, and that carries over to tabletop games. When I'm building towards some moment--a plot twist, a big secret, a craftily-worded detail--I get tunnel vision. I will, sometimes whole scenes in advance, start pushing things along narratively to get to the moment. Sometimes I'm aware of it, but it's still hard to resist. And the times that I've slowed down and stopped pressing forward have proved instrumental. It always seems that as soon as I let off the story's reins, the party fixates on something and starts being really silly. They're course correcting. I made things a little too focused and serious to be fun, so they seek up something silly and light. And as I said with the first entry on this list, you want to allow that silliness to take hold. 

The thing that kept me from embracing the silliness initially was that I saw it as detracting from the other things we did in a session. But that's not the case. The silliness can and should be a part of every game in some way, and if it isn't there, then the GM might be suppressing it. Besides, most any tabletop player can tell you that the most beloved NPC are the silliest ones. The humor of tabletop games is truly important to players, and they latch on to reliable sources of that silliness. So don't steer away from it--embrace silliness in your campaign. 

8. Know what your dealbreakers are as a GM, and don't compromise. 

It's important as a GM to be like a flexible tree--you should bend to meet your players but never break from straining too far. I've been strained too far as a GM before. Years ago, I was running a campaign, and I carefully assembled a group of players. I'm particular about party building and group dynamics--I was cautious and exacting in crafting the party in question, and I was thrilled to see how everyone got along. But there was a hitch: one of the people I invited decided to invite someone I had never met to permanently join us. That person proved to be a challenge--they were sometimes hostile and made most of the rest of the group uncomfortable. My instincts at the time told me to ignore my own discomfort and try to be accepting. I regret that. As the campaign stretched on, we all accepted that game nights would be accompanied by awkward questions and aimless rants. It wasn't good, basically. 

What I learned then was that I have a dealbreaker: my party composition is very important to me, and it also affects my players. I should have simply said on the first session, "I'm sorry, but it matters to me a lot that I decide how the game runs. Maybe after we've gotten to know each other, we can talk about adding you later." Instead, I didn't recognize that I had a dealbreaker, and I compromised. People who were in that group still tell stories about how strange our group had become, and I also feel responsible. Had I been more direct about my own boundaries, the issue probably never would have happened. 

Dealbreakers like this can take any form. I know GMs who are especially particular about how players roll their dice. I know GMs who must have absolute secrecy about their planning and won't discuss the game with their players outside of play time. I know GMs who have incredibly strong opinions about things that 99% of players don't really think about. Whatever your dealbreaker is, don't think of it as a weakness. It may be frustrating to have, but remember: this is about fun, and that means your fun, too. Don't make choices in the name of the game that go against your fun or comfort. 

9. Focus on the people--otherwise, it's just writing. 

I mentioned above that I've penned a pretty ludicrous amount about my homebrew setting. I've also got probably six fully prepared campaigns at the ready. And from the player perspective, I have more character ideas than I have games for them. Maybe it sounds impressive, but I don't know that it is. Without other people around to play with each of these things, it's not much. It's a lot of nice writing, but it's no game. That's why, when I GM and play tabletop games, I try to make it as much about the people as possible. Without them, I'd just be writing another adventure that might not ever see the light of day. 

By "focus on the people," what I mean is that your preparation for sessions as a GM should most have to do with your players. I've written before about how to create challenges specific to your players, which is a big part of what I'm talking about. But it's also more than that. When I GM, I pay special attention to the reactions my players have. The things that make them laugh, the things that get them excited--I take note of these things. I have one player in a group I run who gets really excited when he can bring his silly character backstory into the game, so I try to include plenty of moments where he can add details about his earlier life. I have another player in a different group who loves to act bizarrely and get reactions from his party, so I try to regularly drop strange items around his character to fuel his shenanigans. This kind of GMing simply allows the players to get what they want from the game. 

Focusing on the people also means being aware of people's emotional reactions. Knowing whether a player is relaxed, tense, irritated, distracted, upset, giddy, or something else matters a lot, and it should affect how you GM. I remember years ago running Listen Check, an early D&D podcast, I had been building up to a dramatic confrontation between the party and a murderous, possessed monk who threatened and harmed them for sessions. In the torment that led to the climax, I was pretty wrapped up in the moment, but I noticed that one of my players looked genuinely upset--not just concerned in-game. I checked the other players. They were similarly on-edge. I decided to back off a bit and switch scenes to a player who wasn't with the conflict. When we returned, I offered a few subtle hints to bring the scene to a close faster. It was important to recognize that my players needed a break from the tension, so as much as I was pleased to be able to generate that kind of feeling, I also acknowledged that it's not pleasant to feel for very long. In all ways, focus on the people. 

10. Never decide the direction of the story without your players.

Although this list has been in no particular order, this last lesson is probably the most vital. I think that the ending of a campaign is, of course, one of the most important parts of the game. It's tempting to plan it exhaustively so that every detail goes off perfectly. You want to send your players off right, right? Well, sending them off right might mean different things. To me, the best definition of sending your players off right means giving them as close to complete control over the ending as possible. This is often our goal: to give them complete agency over the game. This is especially true of the ending. I can anticipate that some GMs are protesting--"But the players won't tie everything up neatly!" You're right--of course they won't. But that doesn't mean you don't get a neatly tied-up story. My solution is simple: let the players control the final session, which you follow up with an epilogue that ties everything up. (I did this with the mystery campaign's finale, for your reference.) Then you get player agency and a nice, satisfying ending at the same time. 

I know it's tempting. You could just script a couple of events for the ending, and it would all be so smooth . . . Except there's only two ways GM plans go: either the players ignore it right away, or they follow it up to the end and derail at the last second. That means that your ending plans either don't apply or they force the players into something that they didn't choose. Neither option is good. Go into your final session the same way you went into your early and middle session: just see what happens with minimal guidance. And this is true even of the rest of the campaign. I ran a campaign early in my GMing career where I devised 20 devious assassination contracts for my players. They killed one target, kidnapped another, and then turned on the questgiver. If I hadn't been able to follow my players instead of guiding them, the whole campaign would have been lost. 

So don't push the players' story. Remember that it's their story as much as it is yours, arguably moreso theirs. There are generally more players than GMs in a game, so they already have a greater share of the game that you. And while you may have more power, that doesn't necessarily mean that the players will be happiest if you fully use it. The longer I've been a GM, the more I have recognized that my players are happiest when they're operating on only minimal input from me. They want to explore the world and create stories and experience something fun, and adding more order to the story they're interacting with rarely fixed the problem. Don't decide for the players--forging a path through the world is literally what they are there for. And to go even a step further, I'd advise giving the players as much power as you reasonably can--their investment will be worth it. 

That's all for now. Coming soon: parenting by D&D culture in my homebrew setting, a guide to my homebrew Underdark, and how I connect with my characters. Until next time, happy gaming!

Pets by Culture in My Homebrew Setting

As I've said many times on this site, it's important to know what your gameworld is like so that you can describe it well. One thing I've learned in my 17 years of running homebrew games is that you often don't know that your world has some interesting detail to add to your games until you sit down and think about it. I didn't realize that my world was full of interesting sayings until I sat down to write about them. I didn't know how to describe what types of books people read in my world until I took the time to write about their literary achievements. I couldn't have meaningfully differentiated an elven style of smithing from a dwarven style of smithing until I decided to really consider what their craftsmanship is like. That's part of why there are so many articles here about my homebrew setting--I'm always trying to learn about what life there is really like. 

Often when I have an idea for a homebrew profile, I think, "How have I not already written about this?" This is especially true of this one. Pets are a huge part of people's lives, and players love to have and meet new cute creatures in their adventures, so it can be very helpful to have information about what pets are like. [Side note: If you're interested in everyone in the party getting to have their own familiars, I've created an expanded list of animal companions for everyone.] So read on for a guide to pets in my gameworld, and feel free to borrow any ideas you like!

Daltoners:

Common Pets: Primarily dogs and horses, secondarily falcons and pigs, tertiarily cats and rats. 

Beliefs about Pets: Daltoners tend to believe that pets should be functional animals that serve the purposes of the pet keeper. They regard themselves as "owners" of the animals. Loyalty is also very important to Daltoner pet keepers--they choose dogs and horses oftenest due to the loyalty of those animals. Is is also worth noting that dogs and horses, when trained, can be used for combat purposes, and both Daltoner Warhorses and Old Dalton Blues (a breed of massive blue-grey hounds) are renowned for their ferocity and size. Falcons are kept for similar reasons. Pigs are somewhat common pets for Daltoners who want affectionate and intelligent animals and who don't mind losing their pet at slaughter time. A few Daltoners keep cats for pest control or rats for stealthy assistance with hard-to-get-to places. 

Common Pet Names: Daltoners culturally tend to want their pets to project a sense of toughness. It is considered strange in Daltoner culture to give a humanoid name to an animal, so they tend towards names that suggest certain qualities they want. There are generally two types of Daltoner pet names: descriptive names and metaphorical names. The descriptive names tend to label the pet directly: Growler, Bruiser, Biter, Hunter. The metaphorical names evoke a tough or dangerous trait: Anvil, Axe, Vise, Trap. When Daltoners do adopt more affectionate names, they tend to do so with names that still suggest something cultural acceptable: Heart (as in brave to the public but sweet in private). 

Pet Customs: When a pet dies, in Daltoner culture, it is expected that the pet keeper mourn for one week before replacing the pet. The belief is that this period makes the pet keeper more aware of how much they miss the former pet. For Daltoners who own multiple pets, this process is often less acutely felt, but is still observed seriously, even if the pet keeper themselves does not entirely believe in the custom. The mourning itself in practice is rarely more than inconvenience, and many outside observers tend to judge Daltoners as not being very connected to their pets. 

Faninites: 

Common Pets: Primarily dogs and falcons, secondarily cats and lizards, tertiarily pigs and sparrows. 

Beliefs about Pets: Faninites tend to view their pets as essentially parts of the family. To Faninites, pets contribute to the emotional wellbeing of a family and can even help the help in material ways as well, and that makes them important parts of the home unit. As such, pets in Faninite households tend to be given occasional gifts in the forms of special meals or hand-made toys. They are also given a great wealth of nicknames, as described below. Faninites are responsible for the North Coast Shepherd, a herding dog with long black-and-brown patches, notably over the eyes. Falcons are common as hunting animals and companions; cats and lizards both prevent pests and offer affection; sparrows are fed but never caged, and pet pigs are never eaten but rather considered good animals for children to spend time with. 

Common Pet Names: Faninite pet names tend to be affectionate and often silly. Ironic names are especially common amongst Faninites. A few examples might include an especially clumsy dog named Grace, a big-eyed cat named Peepers, or a rough-looking lizard named Handsome. Just as often, Faninites will provide their pets with highly affectionate nicknames that are more often used than the given name. Some such nicknames might include: Love Blanket, My Perfect Infant Child, or Sweet Loveberry Pie. Sometimes, a Faninite will decide to bestow their pet a more serious name because they feel it fits the pet's personality; on such occasions, those names are dignified and metaphorical: Cloud, Sea, Root, Seed. 

Pet Customs: It is common among Faninites to celebrate the birthdays of their pets like a humanoid member of the family, and to give gifts to and "from" the pets (faking a present from the pet) on other holidays where gifts are given. The most frequently-given gifts to Faninite pets include full humanoid meals, woven toys, and clothing made to fit the pet. Faninites are seen by most as the culture most invested in its pet relationships. Especially for Daltoners, with their more spare pet relationships, the Faninite way is bizarre. Nevertheless, Faninites abide by their customs, proud to be so emotionally connected to their pets. 

Dwarves:

Common Pets: Primarily horses and badgers, secondarily cats and gophers, tertiarily owls and platypus. 

Beliefs about Pets: Dwarves have developed a relationship with their pets that is more like partnership than stewardship. Living in the dangerous world of caves and mining, dwarves have come to rely on animals that can help them in their natural underground terrain. Once a tunnel has been constructed, traveling great distances by horse is common; in less developed areas, badgers are trusty animals that can explore an area and help dig the beginnings of tunnels. Faninites are responsible for the Underhar Domestic Badger, an oversized badger with a sweet temperament which can leave tunnels large enough for slight dwarves. Horses are kept at great expense since their food does not grow underground, so keeping one is a sign of wealth. Cats are kept as friends and pest control; gophers are viewed as starter badgers for younger dwarves. Burrowing owls are kept by some more free-spirited dwarves, and the platypus is the pet of choice for dwarves in aquatic caves. 

Common Pet Names: Dwarf pet names are always honorific in some way. This is generally done in one of two ways: either the dwarf names their pet with a title meant to honor them, or them give the name of a beloved relative or hero. Thus, dwarven pet names are very personal, and it is widely believed in dwarven culture that one learns a lot about a person from the name of their pets. Title names include: His Excellency, Lady Gopher of the Plains, All-Seeing Watcher (especially as a cat name). Given personal names might include: Desdemona, Duke Anvilsmith, Mother Dearest. The dwarven taste for these types of names puts them in conflict with Daltoners, who find such names upsetting, but dwarves are too protective about their pet names to concede to the Daltoner taste. 

Pet Customs: Dwarves observe a cycle of pet life which is marked by celebrations. The first celebration is at the birth or adoption of the animal, marking the beginning of its life with the dwarven family. Further celebrations are marked as the pet enters adolescence, adulthood, and old age. These celebrations include special food (often a beef dish prepared with hearty gravy) and a great deal of affection from all members of the family. Accompanying these celebrations are changing expectations of the animal. It is sharply frowned upon in dwarven culture to ask the same of a young and old animal, and these expectations are usually explicitly carried out in dwarven households. 

Orcs:

Common Pets: Primarily falcons and snakes, secondarily fish and ibis, tertiarily cats and turtles. 

Beliefs about Pets: Orcs views on pets have been very much shaped by the animals they were surrounded by on their home island of Grob. As I've described in my profile of the nature of this world, Grob is a rocky island covered in little life; most of what lives there is treacherous. Nevertheless, orcs have tamed some of the wild creatures of their homeland. By most Evanines' standards, orcish pets are unconventional. Orcs are known for breeding the Dakor Falcon, a lightweight hunting bird with incredibly midair agility--they are known for returning prey to the falconer no matter what. They also keep and breed snakes, creating the non-venomous and almost entirely docile creepsnake, which is amphibious. Sometimes, orcs build ponds where they can and stock fish, either for eating or simply as pets. Some intrepid orcs have tamed a number of ibises, kept often as status symbols. Turtles have become common pets for orcs who are looking for more emotional connection than practical use. Meeting with the other cultures introduced cats to orcs, which was an instant match, though felines are still catching on in the orcish community.  

Common Pet Names: Orcs tend to give fairly serious names to their pets which praise them, usually for what the pet keeper most often prizes the pet for. As a result, most pet names are either solemn celebrations of prowess or for being an especially steadfast pet. Some celebratory names include: He-Who-Brings-the-Meat, She-of-Silent-Movement, The-Sky-of-Many-Colors. Names aimed at the pet's steadfastness: She-Who-Never-Sleeps, He-of-Certain-Heart, The-Endless-Embrace. Because these names are somewhat cumbersome, orcs generally go with a nickname in front of other humanoids rather than the full name. These nicknames tend to choose one important word from the full name. So, for instance, "He-Who-Brings-the-Meat" would become "Brings," "She-of-Silent-Movement" becomes "Silent," and "He-of-Certain-Heart" becomes "Heart." 

Pet Customs: It is a commonly-held orcish belief that pets are consciously aware of their ability to emotionally aid their keeper, and that they choose to help orcs when they are in need. As a result, orcs consider it common wisdom to spend time with a pet when they need solace. Further, orcs believe that returning the kindness of their pets is especially important. And so orcs who seek solace often bring a special treat or spend time being affectionate with the pet before they seek peace with their pet. This practice has been compared by other cultures to a kind of religious offering, but orcs maintain that it is simply an upholding of a mutual relationship. 

Elves:

Common Pets: Primarily monkeys and aquatic birds, secondarily fish and chameleons, tertiarily mongooses and turtles. 

Beliefs about Pets: Elves traditionally seek pets which are beautiful or somehow interesting--especially when the animal has some quality that is metaphorically resonant. To an elf, a pet is not quite a status symbol, nor are they a companion; they are more something delicate which the elf contributes to by caring for. Elves have bred the Lathien Rhesus, a dexterous monkey which is especially friendly to humanoids, and they have developed many variations of the aquatic birds of their homeland, notably the kingfisher and osprey, often with colorful results. Elves are known to construct artificial ponds and fill them with decorative fish, and there is a subculture that revolves around filling these ponds only with fish the pet keeper has personally caught. Chameleons are a popular pet for some elves, many of whom try to train their chameleons to blend into a diverse array of settings. Mongooses, native to the Lathien Islands, can be easily trained to perform nearly as many tricks as the monkey, and turtles are revered for their longevity and hardiness. 

Common Pet Names: Elves are very fickle about names, and very few conventions are broadly true of most elven pet keepers. There are, however, three notable trends worth considering. First is the tendency to name a pet after something natural--the idea is to match the pet's beauty with something appropriate. Names like this include: Sky, Dewdrop, Waterfall, Lightning. The second subtype of name is to name the pet after another pet, either the pet keeper's own or a friend or family member's. These names obviously vary widely. This practice is meant to honor both the old pet (by remembering it) and the new pet (by blessing it with such an important name). The third type of elven pet name is after the pet keeper's favorite characters or works from literature and drama. Due to the intersection of this trend and the current tastes in literature, an incredibly popular name for pets now is Tesseldin, taken from the title of the most well-known elven novel. Other popular literary names are Hyasina (the heroine of the play A Table for One) and Eisar (the beloved antihero of novel Weather Problems). 

Pet Customs: Elves believe that pets exist at least in part to bring joy to the pet keeper and those around them. To that end, elves specially mark any occasion where the pet garners praise from someone else or from the pet keeper themselves. When a pet earns special attention a set number of times (once every three times for most elves, though this varies), they are granted a special treat--an elven delicacy made from fermented root vegetables called hinti. This dish is considered delicious by elven standards, and bestowing it on an animal is part of the commitment of this process. Once the pet has consumed the hinti, the pet keeper repeats the praises to the pet and meditates on the process. 

Half-Elves:

Common Pets: Primarily dogs and cats, secondarily pigs and falcons, tertiarily squirrels and chameleons. 

Beliefs about Pets: Half-elves tend to regard their pets as almost offspring. Like their Faninite parents, half-elves love their pets dearly. Like their elven parents, half-elves have expectations of their pets. There is a fairly serious divide in the current world of pet rearing in the half-elven community. A large but shrinking group argues that pets should be well-behaved and relies on training to create the pets they want. The other faction, currently eclipsing the first, argues that pets are imperfect beings and should be allowed to exist as such, and with the freedom to act as they like. This debate is atypical of the half-elven community in that half-elves tend to adopt similar ideas from their parents, but this divide is bitter and severe. Primarily, half-elven pet owners adopt dogs and cats for affection's sake coupled with hunting value. Secondarily, half-elves adopt intelligent and sweet pigs and powerful trained falcons, largely divided by the factions described above. Finally, half-elves also adopt squirrels for the cuteness and ease of training, as well as chameleons, which are reminiscent of their elven parents and which represent the ease with which half-elves manuever through social situations. 

Common Pet Names: Half-elves do not have meaningfully common naming conventions for pets. Many adopt the Faninite method of highly affectionate nicknames. Many adopt the elven methods of nature, old pets, and literature. Half-elves also adopt names that come from other cultures. In particular fashion currently is the orcish method of naming combined with the affection of Faninite names. Examples include: Makes-My-Heart-Happy, Tiny-Precious-Angel, One-Who-Smiles-Perfectly. If it can be said of any culture, it is true of half-elves--naming one's pet is almost a competitive social game to see who can be more clever and affectionate. 

Pet Customs: Half-elves tend to be the most keen animal trainers since they tend to work with the animals rather than against them. As a result, half-elven animal trainers have been in high demand across Evanoch for quite some time. Though there are those who try to keep it a secret, the animals in the Daltoner and dwarven armies were trained by half-elves, as were many of the animals in traveling circuses. The increasingly divided opinion in the half-elven community about the ethics of training is complicated, especially since many involved in the debate are unfamiliar with half-elven training methods. All that is agreed upon by everyone is that half-elves seem to have an innate ability to work with animals. 

Gnomes:

Common Pets: Primarily fish and ravens, secondarily cats and rats, tertiarily rabbits and foxes. 

Beliefs about Pets: Gnomes have strong affection for their pets, but most gnomes do not express that affection through petting, cuddling, or other physical behaviors. Instead, they express their affection via elaborate housing and toys for the pet. For the ingenious and inventive gnomes, creating a custom living space for their pet amounts to almost social prestige. One common strategy is for gnomes to construct a smaller home for their pet which is connected to the main home; another is to build animal toys and perches throughout the house; a few even move homes to a space better suited to their pets. Fish are the most common gnomish pet, in part because impressive aquariums have been in style for over a century, and ravens are prized for both their intelligence and their ability to assist with tasks. Cats and rats are likewise if less so inclined to basic training and importantly are not very large compared to the tiny gnomes. Rabbits are kept as pets from babies by the most outwardly affectionate of gnomes, and foxes are cherished in gnomish culture because of several stories from Garl Glittergold lore that depict the Fox as a clever anti-hero. 

Common Pet Names: Gnomes themselves collect names, especially strange ones, and their pet naming conventions are nothing if not elevated from that premise. Gnomish pets are sometimes named for bizarre sound effects, strange collections of syllables, or occasionally a series of claps, snaps, and grunts. Examples include: Puhderfeefee, [clap clap] Wizzo!, Ellellesell, Bip. For the many gnomes who keep fish for pets, it is popular to name all of the fish after a common theme. One such collection of fish owned by an art enthusiast might include names like Brush, Easel, Canvas, and Paint. The idea of silliness is not as present in this subset of naming, but it is the norm outside of this exception. 

Pet Customs: It is a deeply held gnomish cultural belief that a gnome simply connects with a specific type of animal, but they won't know until they encounter one. It's considered not only desirable but socially or morally important to adopt a pet only once having a strong reaction to an animal. Oftentimes, gnomes will take that animal as their first pet if they are able to. Once someone knows the animal they connect with, they are socially accepted no matter how many of those animals they adopt as pets. However, it would be forbidden for a gnome to take another animal type in addition to their connected animal. A fish owner could not adopt a cat, and not just for fear of the cat preying on the fish--other gnomes would judge them for it. 

Halflings: 

Common Pets: Primarily hounds and sloths, secondarily spider monkeys and parrots, tertiarily boa constrictors and jaguars. 

Beliefs about Pets: Halflings not only dearly love their animals, they pretty uniformly reject the labels "pet" and "pet owner" as demeaning to the animals. They are as radical about their pet beliefs as they are about the anarchist politics. No halfling pets wear collars or leashes under any condition, and they are free to come and go as they please. (Halflings take exceptional care of animals, and the animals invariably return about as often a housepet.) And halflings grow up in a rainforest filled with thousands of powerful compounds growing wild around them, so they are able to offer animals a diet that matches the animal's needs, including through the examination of the animal's stool to detect diet deficiencies. Halfling pets tend to be big animals, and many non-halflings observe that the halfling is often the smaller of the two. This is true especially of their hounds, docile but dangerous creatures which seem to be half-wolf and half-hyena--these beasts terrify most people, but halflings are well used to living amongst the creatures. Sloths, on the other hand, are animals sustained to protect them from loggers and the more dangerous rainforest animals. Spider monkeys and parrots are sustained for their intelligence and agility. In recent decades, advances in understanding about some of the rainforest's predators led to advances in halfling relations, namely with boa constrictors and jaguars. These two animals, either of which could easily kill a halfling with little effort, have been seen throughout the rainforest existing peacefully with the halflings. 

Common Pet Names: Halflings consider it to be playfully affectionate to give ironic pet names. These are not names that tease the animal, but instead names that celebrate something about it by giving it a conflicting name. There are a great many halfling hounds who are named Tiny or Wimp or something along those lines; sloths named Speedy or Flash are common as well. Increasingly in the last two decades, halflings have begun to adopt the structure of the orcish titular names, but retaining the irony. Examples of names like this might be She-Who-Runs-So-Slow for a fast hound or Hands-to-Yourself for a boa constrictor still being tamed. Halfling custom dictates that the animal's name be changed should the namesake change. 

Pet Customs: When an animal has frequented a halfling's home for two years, traditionally, the halfling will go into the rainforest and not return until they have a gift for the animal. This is meant to repay the animal for the gift of its regular presence. Gifts typically are an offering of food, though some halflings offer herbs or even colorful stones. It is said that an animal in the Heronal Forest has never denied a gift, and it is hotly debated in the world outside Curagon whether that is because of the halflings' skill with animals, the nature of the animals themselves, or that the story itself is a myth. What is known for certain by those who have made the trip to Curagon is that wild animals roam the streets, harming no one. 

There you have it--a guide to the world of pets throughout my homebrew setting. If you enjoyed reading about what it's like there, check out the homepage under "My Homebrew Setting" about halfway down the page; I've posted thirty different guides to life in my homebrew setting. And a lot of that is because taking the time to think about these things and write them out helps me come up with things like all this to add to my description when we're playing. And it can help you too--just challenge yourself to define as much as you can in your world. 

That's all for now. Coming soon: the 10 most important lessons I've learned as a GM, parenting by D&D culture in my homebrew setting, and a guide to my homebrew Underdark. Until next time, happy gaming!

Expanded Thieves Cant

One exciting but underutilized feature of the rogue class in D&D is the ability of thieves cant. Sometimes, DMs make use of thieves cant by describing a criminal ally as speaking in a manner of code, and sometimes, the ability just gets overlooked altogether. But it's a truly interesting feature which can be used in interesting ways. One way I've utilized is by including it in my novel about my rogue player character. There have been various suggestions in the D&D world for what thieves cant really sounds like, but I had a fairly distinct idea in mind with my world. I've decided that these phrases are canon thieves cant in my world as well, and I'm sharing this terminology here so that you can use it in yours, too. Below is a list of 50 words and phrases with double meanings in thieves cant. 

And lastly, a word on using this material: I recommend having a character who knows thieves cant and suspects a party member knows it just immediately launch into thieves cant. This would mean leaving your players in confusion for a moment, but you actually want that in this situation. After you've spoken a bit in thieves cant, translate to the player character(s) who would have understood it, but remind the other players that their characters just think this person sounds a little off. Once thieves cant is established as an ability, you can allow the party to pass coded messages during interactions with other people. The players will have lots of ideas about how to implement this idea, so be prepared! And most of all, have fun. 

The word on the left is the word or phrase used in thieves cant, and the word or phrase on the right is its meaning in common speech. 

Criminal Terms

1. Baker - Criminal
2. Fingertip - Pickpocket
3. Statue - "Muscle"; an armed, dangerous ally
4. Shadow - Cat Burglar
5. Priest - Con Artist
6. Pursestrings - Mercenary
7. Buck - a "Mark"; a target
8. Bread - Payment or Spoils 
9. Cake - Coins
10. Rabbit - Jewels or Treasure
11. Clicks - Lockpicking Tools
12. Bit - Trap
13. Drain - attacking someone when they're vulnerable or unaware; to "Sneak Attack"
14. Toe - to move cautiously; to use "Stealth"
15. Bid - a successful lie

Communication - Thieves

1. "I've seen several hawks recently" - roughly "I speak thieves cant and suspect that you do too," to which the reply is "I have too--they are doing well" ("I do speak thieves cant")
2. "Weather's been kind lately" - "Hello, I mean you no harm"
3. "You look like you've walked a thousand miles" - "You look like you're in trouble--do you need help?" 
4. "I'm feeling foggy; could you repeat that?" - indicates that the person saying it does not trust the person who they ask 
5. "I recall a story from childhood about a witch" - "You are making things difficult for me, and I want you to stop"
6. "I was just reading about the dragons" - "If you go a step further, I will sabotage or kill you"
7. "Have you ever been bitten by a serpent*?" - "You seem to not realize you're in a dangerous situation"  [*it must be the word "serpent"--"snake" denotes an honest question about snakebites]
8. "I've heard your baking is delicious" - "I suspect or know you've just made a lot of money, and I want a part of it" (thieves will generally add "let me try your [foodstuff related to the reason for demanding a part ("honey tart" - poisoning threat, "oatcake" - blackmailing threat, "ginger snaps" - theft threat)]
9. "They built the fire too close to the tree" - "Law officers are aware of what you/we have done and are on the way"
10. "Quietly now, fetch a pail" - "Don't act alerted or suspicious; there is a law officer nearby"

Communication - General 

1. "Consider the tiny snail" - "Someone is watching us"
2. "The hound only has to catch the slowest hare" - "Someone is planning to target you with some attack" 
3. "Does the sun/moon [whichever is out] look especially large to you?" - "You seem to be feeling unwell--are you?" 
4. "Where did you go last fall?" - "Do you believe what we're being told?" ("I toured the countryside" - "I don't believe it"; "I stayed at home" - "I believe it")
5. "Did you play jacks as a child?" - "Do you think we can handle the situation we're in?" 
6. "I painted a fence a few weeks ago" - "Let me take the lead in this situation" 
7. "That book has more pages than sense" - "I think this situation is too good to be true" 
8. "If they know it, they have the gods' attention" - Whatever information the person is referring to is vitally important; it is implied that the person speaking is suggesting that everyone pursue the information
9. "A teapot with cracks is still pretty" - "We've done all we can, and it's time to give up and try something else"
10. "Stumps are still good for sitting" - "We're almost there and just need to push a little further" 

General Terms

1. Claw - Slashing Weapon
2. Tooth - Piercing Weapon
3. Hoof - Bludgeoning Weapon
4. Hide - Armor
5. Bug - Enemy
6. Vermin - Enemy Leader
7. Glass - Prisoners/Hostages
8. Dream - Monster
9. The Dance - Magic
10. Poke - Steal 
11. "Put Words To" - Lie
12. Flip - Kill
13. Handle - Heal 
14. Hold - Help, especially in combat
15. Mouth - Familiar/Animal Companion/Pet

There you have it--a whole list of words and phrases to use to spice up your game, add immersion, and feature your rogue characters. Or you could use this as the beginning of a much larger list that includes your own additions. It's all possible, but only when you choose to use it as it fits your game. Don't have any rogue characters but still want to use it? Introduce a rogue NPC who uses the language and then has to explain it to the nonfluent characters--it would still add detail and immersion without having a particular character to relate it to. 

That's all for now. Coming soon: pets by D&D culture in my homebrew setting, the 10 most important lessons I've learned as a GM, and parenting by D&D culture in my homebrew setting. Until next time, happy gaming!

List of Interesting Cities

One of the most exciting things as a player is visiting a captivating new place. These can take the form of amazing natural wonders, fascinating cities, and so much more. But building an interesting place from the ground up takes work. So I've created a list of interesting cities you can adapt to your game with just a bit of work. Please enjoy (and use) these cities!

1. Brewer's Dam

This city is situated at the end of a large lake partially created by the dam they built there. But rather than damming the river that runs through the lake and building nearby, the original settlers conserved wood by building the city into the dam itself. Over time, intricate loch systems have been built along the mouth of the river with floating neighborhoods connecting the halfway point of the lake to the city on the dam proper. On the ground at the dam's edge is a small outpost for travelers who find the floating inns to be unnerving, and the city's public office is located there for diplomatic matters, but aside from that, the entire city of Brewer's Dam lies on the foundation of the dam or on floating platforms connected to it. The woods nearby which had been cleared have mostly regrown now, and travelers who arrive in the dark often don't realize that there was a city there at all. Fish are cultivated, and foragers search the nearby woods for supplemental food. Rumors say that the scientists in Brewer's Dam are on the verge of harnessing water-power. 

2. Sky Bridge

This city took nearly three centuries to build, consisting of four tall towers which extend high into the sky. Each tower is made of alternating living quarters/shop accommodations and strengthening brick layers, and every few floors is a bridge to the adjacent towers to upper and lower levels as well as direct links across. Spiraling walkways with safety walls along the outside have been built around the outsides of the towers, allowing more direct transportation up and down. Neighborhoods are formed by tower and floor allegiances. The higher the home or business, the higher the respect afforded to it, and in fact, the highest level is occupied by Sky Bridge governmental officers. Because there is little ability to sustain the city through agriculture, the citizens of Sky Bridge have a complex system of trade relationships that keep the city reliably supplied with enough food for its citizens. Denizens of the lowest levels of the towers have largely resorted to hunting and gathering outside the tower rather than pay the notably high food price. 

3. Freedom Island

This city is a massive boat towing a series of smaller boats, each outfitted to carry the citizens and the necessary supplies to survive at sea. The main ship was to be the first of several like it to haul huge shipments around the continent, but when the first ship was quickly captured by pirates, the company producing the ships reconsidered, and the pirates' crew has managed to evade naval law for decades. Thus, the ship (renamed Freedom Island by its commanding crew) has remained a roving city on the sea, occasionally anchoring near land for personnel changes and supply trades. To sustain its people, Freedom Island has constructed mechanical improvements to standard fishing gear, allowing them to hook and land larger fish than conventional fishing allows for. The pirate crew in charge of Freedom Island maintains that it is an anarchic state with no governmental structure, but they also concede that all citizens of Freedom Island are considered liable for the defense of it against foreign powers. 

4. Lanshire-Down-Below

There are ghostly stories of Lanshire-Up-Above, the town which appears to be perfectly preserved and yet is totally absent of any life. It's a place that children dare one another to go, and one where they frequently fright before the dare is complete. It would not be so if they knew of Lanshire-Down-Below, a perfectly identical city built exactly underneath its surface sister city. Some legends say that the cities were built together, and others claim that one of the cities came first, though they disagree about which one. All that is certain is that one specific closet door in Lanshire-Up-Above hides a trapdoor which leads to a long, winding tunnel that ends in that same closet, but in Lanshire-Down-Below. Through that passage, the people of Lanshire-Down-Below occasionally contact the outer world for emergencies, but mostly, they stick to themselves, paranoid of surface dwellers' motives. They harvest mushrooms and lichens in the caves where they reside, and they hunt the dire creatures who live there too. 

5. The Failsafe

In the days of long-gone history, there was nearly world domination by [whoever you want, but let's say "elves" for this example], who at the height of their power built a series of forts. One was intended to endlessly defensible, a fortress that would never fall. It was called The Failsafe, and it was built at the center of the continent, where it would give the elves a permanent foothold away from their home territory. When eventually the period of war became a period of peace, the Failsafe's purpose was largely forgotten by its mostly new inhabitants. The fortress itself is a series of circles:

Failsafe as seen from above.

As you can see, an assault on the central fort of the city would involve fighting through three more walls as well. The city that has sprung up around the old fortress is a series of neighborhoods which utilize the former defenses into housing and businessfronts. No special needs for food are required, as the Failsafe is surrounded by lovely farmland. 

6. Kettleford Range

There are certainly cities along the mountain range, and even a few that make homes of plateaus along the range. But none have made use of the range itself like Kettleford Range. This city is built upon terraced foundations cut into the mountain range with great ramps stretching from the ground up the mountainside. The buildings (and the terraces they rest on are perfectly level, an achievement by the builders that cut the city into the mountainside. While many buildings are constructed of brick or wood atop the terraces, a great many that lie closer to the back walls of the terraces are cut directly from the mountain itself--that is to say, the buildings there are actually connected to and made of the same stuff as the ground. Kettleford Range stretches along over a mile and a half of the mountain range, and careful efforts at growing crops on newly terraced areas is proving effective enough that the city can reduce its reliance on hunting the native animals. 

7. Dijum

[Note: This city is taken directly from my homebrew setting.] Deep in the grasslands lies a massive rainforest, complete with humid, warm climate, exotic plants and animals, and towering trees. This rainforest is home to a great proportion of the unique wildlife in the world and is known as treacherous to travel through. In the center of this rainforest is a great lake, Lake Chalba. And in the center of Lake Chalba is an island, most of which is covered by the city of Dijum. Lake Chalba is considered to be a holy site of the beginning of sentient life, and Dijum has become the center for the pilgrims who go there. These pilgrims must first face the dangerous rainforest, but the city of Dijum within is calm, accepting to strangers, and idyllic. And yet threats from outside, from those who would threaten the peace and prosperity of Dijum do exist, and a collective of concerned citizens patrol the rainforest to tend to wounded travelers and keep an eye out for those who may jeopardize the city. Foraging provides all the city needs for food. 

8. Valcora

Off the coast are the volcanoes. Some say that their eruptions formed the continent we live on, but across the water lives a city unafraid of the volcanic activity. The city of Valcora rests on a plateau halfway up the highest of the volcanic peaks. The newly-built city was warned against by many, but a mass of headstrong builders and adventurers made their way across the sea in great boats carrying supplies, and though it took a generation, the city was built. It's rested there for a while--long enough for people to become complacent. They've become a trade powerhouse to accommodate for their diets, as nothing grows on the volcanic ground, and have adopted a fairly public system of distributing food fairly. A Valcora scientist says that the volcano may erupt in the near future and needs help investigating how to prevent it--your party can help. 

9. Desert Rose

The desert stretches for miles and miles in every direction, and practically no life grows anywhere in it. Anywhere except the Desert Rose, a sprawling city founded in the middle of a great oasis. Enormous farms span out from the city, a scattered collection of wooden, stone, and canvas buildings. Despite the hardness to come by certain materials, the city has gotten by on a sense of ingenuity and persistence. Many common items which have been difficult to get in the middle of a desert have been approximated with makeshift inventions and substitutions, such as the use of bone as a structuring material in place of wooden beams. And though the physical structure of the city may be modest, it provides a great many social amenities that other communities aspire to, such as a public playhouse, a library, and full school. The only real difficulty in Desert Rose is that the desert lies between two warring factions, which puts it between enemies in a lot of situations. 

10. Hapsfield

Most cities in this region tend to show off their use of nature in building their cities, but Hapsfield had different plans. The eccentric and very rich founder of Hapsfield absolutely detested the presence of plant matter on streets or horse droppings in public, so he insisted that all non-humanoid life in the city limits must be artificial only. At first glance, Hapsfield is a beautiful city with trees and flowers planted everywhere. But closer inspection reveals that each tree is a preserved tree cut off at the roots, each flower and leaf made of cloth. But even closer inspection shows that there indeed are animals in Hapsfield--birds in nests in trees, rabbits peeking out of bushes--only to see that even these are taxidermied and posed to look natural. Everything else about Hapsfield seems fairly normal, but the eerieness of the lack of life is hard to ignore for many visitors. Accordingly, the people who stay in Hapsfield tend to be the ones who have been there a while, where visitors seem to shy away pretty quickly. As a result, the population in Hapsfield has slowly declined, and there is considerable speculation in nearby towns on what will happen with its founder passes away. 

That's ten unique cities you can use in almost any context in your games. We've all done the same few "cool ideas" before, so why not try these twists? You never know what these ideas might add to your game or how your players will enjoy exploring a new place. 

That's all for now. Coming soon: an expanded list of thieves cant, pets by D&D culture in my homebrew setting, and the 10 most important lessons I've learned as a GM. Until next time, happy gaming!