How to Develop a Random Idea into Worldbuilding and Storylines

Worldbuilding is one of the best parts of tabletop games for many GMs, and there are many benefits to digging into the details and elaborating on your world. But sometimes, trying to figure out where to start is an issue. You've got a whole world in front of you, so what needs your attention first? 

In my experience, you don't have to have everything figured out from the start. I've been GMing for over 15 years and only recently bothered to explain the major historical movements and natural world of my setting. It hadn't been a major issue, but developing those things helped me to better understand my world and run a more interesting and immersive game. If you're interested in worldbuilding from a conceptual approach in terms of things like that, check out the main page under the category "My Homebrew Setting" a little over halfway down the page. The many articles and guides there may inspire you to create a similar profile for your world. 

But many of us think not in the conceptual reality of our game, and more in terms of the practical realities of the gameworld. The standard of this kind of worldbuilding is in creating settlements and dungeons--making the physical world accessible to players. The same problem exists, though: where do you start? With a huge map as your canvas, what part gets the first worldbuilding paint? 

My solution is simple. If you have a campaign in mind, designing a campaign setting is your best strategy. But if you're just trying to expand your world, trust your gut: what would be the most interesting for you to build? It's supposed to be fun, after all. If you're still stuck, then I have good news. This article is about the simple solution to this problem: pick a random place on the map and go to town. 

I'm not joking. In order to illustrate my sincerity, I'm going to start with a random mid-sized settlement from my homebrew world; I'll pick it by using a random number generator compared to a list of 40 mid-sized settlements. Then, I will begin to write up details about what that settlement is like, and along the way, we'll discover all sorts of unique and interesting details I only found through doing this work. Let's get started. 

I got an 11, which is the town of Pliat. Here it is on my political map of my main continent on my homebrew world:

Your own worldbuilding should follow whatever your instincts tell you, and mine tell me that there's some information I've developed before that will influence what Pliat is like. The first thing I know is that Pliat is between the elven lands and the halfling lands, so the population there will reflect that. It's also near the heart of half-elven country and would bear evidence of that. And since I know a lot of the cultural and social details of my world, I can begin to piece together ideas like what foods are eaten here and what shapes buildings are in a general way. These details can help to characterize a settlement and make it distinct from the others the players encounter. In Pliat's case, most restaurants serve fish from nearby rivers and Lake Playbor as well as lots of grains and fruits and vegetables; most homes and businesses are L-shaped buildings, longhouses, or dugout underground homes. 

But that's basically all I know, and that's not much. My next instinct tells me that it would be good to develop the government, which will tell me a lot about the town and give me some ideas for possible quests. If Pliat's government is like its architecture and cuisine, then it would likely be some manner of loosely-defined council; the half-elven preference for committee and the halfling tendency towards loose government might combine that way. But to spice things up, I want to make Pliat different. I'm going to make up a form of government that I haven't heard of before to make Pliat an interesting place for players. Pliat is led by a Mayor, but the mayoral position is mandatory and changes on a weekly basis--that is to say, every citizen serves as the Mayor at some point for a week. This is intended to keep government representative and be open to new ideas, as well as inspiring civic duty. 

I could now go in two different directions: I might further develop the psychological implications of this policy, or I might write some of the history of how the policy has worked out. In my opinion, the public sentiment about it is likely to follow the historical results, so I'll start with the history of it. For narrative reasons, I want the system to be working well when the players get to Pliat. Let's say that in the earliest days of the mayoral policy, there were some bumps in the road--people unfit to lead with no example of how to do so, people acting on old grudges while in charge, occasional bribes accepted--but in the last few generations, Pliat has become a place that is more collectively run by the whole community with changing official titles, but wherein everyone generally behaves in the community's best interest. 

I mentioned narrative reasons for making Pliat pretty functional and almost idyllic. I think that one of the great tropes of tabletop games, particularly D&D, is depicting the oppressive government which demoralizes its people. It's not a bad trope, and it's certainly fun to be the hero who overthrows the unjust leader. But I think that some people also play tabletop games to be chaotic and wild in a safe space, and giving them a wonderful place where everything is okay is both a big change of pace (more memorable and unique) and an invitation to the players to interfere (a potential storyline). I have a party currently who just like making crazy things happen, and I am certain that they would destroy Pliat in tops two sessions if they went there. As I have said, breadth is important in worldbuilding, so Pliat will be something that helps me create more distinct locations in my world. 

This was general history. Let's consider a few of the temporary leaders who were notable. I need one that covers the old failures, so meet Carson Wettersley, the corrupt lumberjack who tried to sell the town to Finiel to the north and was run out of town, beginning a new era in which Mayors knew they had to fear public retribution. Then I need an early formative expert, so meet Juliet Sweep, the apothecary who introduced the idea of keeping policies of earlier Mayors and herself introduced the notion of holding town hall meetings at the beginning of each new Mayor's term to suggest new ideas for the week. I also want a colorful example that really lends some rich detail to the town, so meet Grynn Garryg, the orcish tinker who was appointed Mayor just hours after arriving in town and personally helped every member of the town in need before leaving at the end of the week. This gives me a good brief history to be able to convey to players who come to Pliat. 

I should also know about the current moment. Let's say that Georgia Illesin, a farmer, has been Mayor for two days, and she has been generally doing a good job, but some people are of the opinion that she's favoring farming projects over other industries in her decisions. If the players end up here long enough to see the next Mayor, it will be Henry Borchester, a tailor who will worry so much about pleasing everyone that he won't take much action at all. At the current moment, people are generally content with the system of government, but feel that they have been on a run of mediocre Mayors. This gives me enough information to have players show up and feel like there's a complete little community here with something interesting going on. 

I play with a wide variety of players; I have some who could indefinitely guide themselves through a sandbox world, and I have some who need some direction to get even small tasks done. As a result, I might have different needs for how much preparation for quests and storylines I need relative the group. But even with self-guiding players, it's a good idea to have at least the beginning of a few storylines so that the world seems to have its own living, breathing components. So given what I know so far, here are a few potential storylines: 

• I want a politically-related quest, so nearby town Terron is struggling to keep up diplomatic relations with Pliat due to the constantly changing leadership. Terron's governor, Yarro Nillenor, is willing to pay the party handsomely if they can convince the people of Pliat to appoint a more permanent diplomatic leader to make things easier for everyone. 
• I want a sort of culture-clash quest--something that plays with the multicultural dimension of the town, so let's say that some halflings, who chafe under the rule of changing leaders, have begun to organize along community lines, causing a rift between them and the rest of the town. One halfling elder, Darwin Rope, is offering a magical item (perhaps a Bag of Holding or a similar item which is prized by players) to anyone who can negotiate a compromise between the Mayoral position and the community organizations--Rope has already tried and failed. 
• I'll add one more, something that is also relevant to the setting; since Pliat is not directly near a water source, they depend on trade for fish (a staple for elves and half-elves), and they need occasional extra water for crops in dry seasons. Gnomish engineer Worki Serpon has proposed a large project wherein the Playbor River to the north would be split and routed south to a manufactured lake, which the city could depend on. Completing the project would require gaining public support, raising funds for the materials and labor, and protecting labor crews from bandits and monsters during construction. 

This gives me a pretty broad base to pull from--whatever my players are most interested in can become the main focus of their time in Pliat, and these quests are really only possible here in this specific settlement. That's something that matters to me a lot as a GM because I like to play multiple campaigns with my players, and I want them to get a sense of how diverse the world is. And just as importantly, I get to have a broad and varied experience too--my time in my homebrew setting has been different every time because I have been sure to give myself different settings every time. 

If I were to use Pliat as a major hub of a campaign as opposed to a stop between other locations, I would want to make a map of the city. A short stop doesn't really require a detailed map, but we should generally know what's in town. Let's say for my own reference in-game and if I do decide to make a map that Pliat is divided roughly into four quarters. The northwest and southwest quarters are primarily agricultural and are home to most Pliatian farmers, food service workers, and loggers. The southeast quarter is a trade section, mostly characterized by a large marketplace and several major thoroughfares of businesses. The northeast corner is home to public buildings like town hall and its various temples, but is also the biggest residential area in town, the site of various neighborhoods generally divided along cultural lines. Notable buildings would include the Pliat Lumber Depot, a huge lumberyard and processing facility; a large public worship house with private spaces for each faith; and the legendary High Horse Brewery, a tavern known far and wide for its generous portions and wide range of drinks. This tells me enough about the place to have a sense of what's here and what the players might encounter in their time in the city. 

There's other preparation that I might do here in Pliat to be ready to game, but I have already developed a number of resources to cut down on that work. If I need a character, I can use this list of character names and personalities to drop a fairly fully-formed character into the game. If the characters want a tavern besides High Horse Brewery, then I can offer them a range of other unique taverns complete with bartenders. Those details will allow me to portray Pliat as the complex and dynamic place that I've developed it to be. 

So now we've developed Pliat into a game-ready place with a variety of good information to keep it going. But I promised you something else in addition to the worldbuilding process; I said that we would learn something about the world in the process. It's time to make good on that promise. So what have I learned? Well, for one thing, I've changed my mental picture of this region of the map, for starters. If you had pointed to Pliat on the map before I started this article and asked me what kind of people live there, I would have though, "half-elves are sort of centered on that part of the map, so maybe half-elves and their parent races, elves and Faninites live there." I would generally have said the same about the other towns in the area; nearby settlements Gamna, Hasphatal, Terron, and Atir are all in the same general region. But by sitting down with Pliat and setting out to make it distinct, I created a version of it which is more complex than being a half-elven city like many of its neighbors. It's true that a good number of the people of Pliat are half-elves or elves, but the inclusion of halflings makes the settlement more complex and interesting. 

I learned about the region's racial population, and I also learned about the relationship between some of the settlements in the region. If you look back at the map, you'll see two small settlements right next to each other in the northeast--Zunard and Dozain. These two settlements are bound to have a complicated relationship, and I know this just by looking at the map:

But Pliat didn't have that clear indication that it would have a particular relationship with the neighboring cities. Writing the storyline for Terron's complication diplomatic relationship opened a door for me--now I know that these two settlements have a regular relationship and that it's strained. This tells me more about the region, and it even suggests other possible strained relationships. If we follow the logical conclusion of the manufactured river and lake storyline, a strained relationship with Atir is likely, as the new river would partially deplete Atir's water supply (and Truscan's to the northwest as well). 

Beyond even the implications of all this, there is still more: I set out to include an interesting idea for the politics in the region, and the worldbuilding I have done around it has informed the storyline of Pliat's leadership. Now players can see the functioning community with rotating leadership from the internal perspective (community-building and representative) and the external perspective (the city is difficult to work with for other cities). This has given us a more realistically complex presentation of the idea, and now I have an idea what tone I want to adopt when presenting the details of the city. 

I learned one final thing from the worldbuilding process around Pliat: when I needed conflict for this region, I did not reach for physical danger. This is in part because I gravitate towards roleplaying when it comes to tabletop games, which demands more abstract challenges that can allow a player to really inhabit their character. I feel that you can achieve this with combat, but I find it easier through more social interactions. That's why each of the quests here are more about talking with people than fighting. But that also tells me about this area: this is not an area where people are afraid for their safety, and the quality of life is good enough that average people could meet the needs of the community. This means that Pliat or perhaps even the larger area around it is pretty peaceful and calm, which is a good thing to know about a region. 

So we've started with just a point on the map and ended up with enough information to make Pliat a viable location for a few sessions or even the beginning of a campaign. We've also learned important things about the context in which Pliat exists and some details about the towns around it. All of that came out of just asking ourselves basic questions about what life is like here. I may or may not ever use Pliat as a location, but I won't lose the worldbuilding that came out of writing about it. 

That's all for now. Coming soon: a guide to conspiracy theories in my gameworld, how to find and use inspiration, and a guide to the various languages in my gameworld. Until next time, happy gaming!

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Politics in My Homebrew World

One of the most enduring topics for adventures in tabletop games comes from the political happenings of the setting. Whether it's carrying out the orders of a politician, defusing a tense political situation, or making sure that those in charge do as they promise, it's fertile ground for an adventure. But it can be a challenge to generate political intrigue without context. That's why I have carefully developed the political realms of my homebrew setting--with my profiles on each political world, it becomes much easier to generate storylines that use those worlds. Read on for a full account of major politics in my world. 

This guide details the big picture concerns of government in my major cities. You can also check out the diplomatic situations of these cities. 

Perhaps the most important thing in terms of putting together your politics is that it suits your world. For my aims, I want to create as broad a spectrum of politics as possible so that I can easily tell whatever story I want. To that end, my homebrew politics will represent as many different ideas as possible. This also allows me to differentiate the races and regions from one another. 

In my world, I have established that the major continent on which my campaigns happen has nine prominent cities that dominate the politics of the continent. These are called "the Big Nine," and most everyone who lives on the continent is fairly familiar with these ideas. So this information is meant to represent what is more or less common knowledge in the world. 

The Big Nine is comprised of four racial homelands--formerly the seats of racial kingdoms--as well as the colonized capital of the Daltoners (a line of humans) and four major cities. The halfling major city, Curagon, is entirely anarchic, and so it does not feature as one of the main governments. Citizens of Curagon insist on the phrase more accurately being "the Big Ten," including the former halfling capital, but most other citizens regard it as something of an outlier. 

Mishara, the elven capital, is governed by one supreme ruler with the title "Cestalion." The Cestalion is selected by a panel of the five oldest living elves. This panel typically selects the most prominent young elf who shows potential for their future. The chosen elf then reigns for the rest of their life, unless that panel decides to replace them, though this emergency replacement has only happened twice in recorded history. In this case, all five elves on the panel must agree to replace the leader. Cestalion translates roughly to "Emperor," and the Cestalion is held above monarchic rule because of the role of the panel in choosing their leader. Arguments for a more democratic system have been discussed, but the role of tradition has kept the Cestalion model very popular.

The current Cestalion is Findlan Tristaa. Tristaa is young by elven standards, only 257 years in all. He is idealistic and has instituted am unorthodox program within the elven lands which aims to advance knowledge of the humanoid anatomy and further medicinal technology to improve overall health in Mishara and beyond. He is largely respected by elves, though many older elves feel he has yet to prove himself as a capable leader, having only served as Cestalion for 23 years (since 4697). Tristaa is a talented artist and musician who admires but steers clear of scientific pursuits himself.

The elven lands are characterized by widespread prosperity, and Mishara is arguably the most well-to-do city known to anyone. Average citizens get by okay, and there are informal community supports which exist to help struggling elves. The government is largely removed from the day to day life of its subjects; when the Cestalion does rarely act, it is in moments of crisis. Most elves prefer a "hands-off" style of governance, and the Cestalion fulfills this model well. The issues most dear to contemporary elves' hearts are freedom of speech, the right to privacy, and freedom of religion.

Kruush, the orcish capital, is the least populous of the Big Nine, and it is governed by the Ragnar (rough translation: "general"), a sort of combination of warchief and dictator--unlike the other leaders in the setting, the leader of the orcish peoples is the highest general of the orcish military, which is determined by who has bested the previous general in non-lethal combat. In the event that the general is killed by a non-orc, the orc to kill that person becomes the new general. Most typically, an orc who wishes to challenge the general will declare it publicly, naming a time and place in which to fight, as well as whether or not weapons will be used. About one-half of challenges occur unarmed. Before the War of Kraal, orcish leaders would rarely rule for more than 5 years, due both to their short lifespans and the likelihood that they will be killed in battle. Since then, emphasis on combat has declined, and Ragnars enjoy normal lifespans in the modern world. The Ragnar rules over the largest orcish village, Kruush, which is located on Grob Island to the southwest.

The current Ragnar of Kruush is Rong Transkt. Considered intelligent for an orc, Transkt has ruled in Kruush for a respectable forty-four years (since 4676). Utilizing the incredible resources available to his people, Transkt has earned a reputation as a shrewd negotiator, and has achieved considerable success in his goal of increasing the wealth of the orcish empire. He has allowed trade to occur from the small town of Gringe at the mouth of the Botak River (near the southern tip of the Dakor Peninsula) with any traveler or merchant daring enough to make it there. He is completely beloved by orcs. Age 23, Transkt is proficient with the greatclub and the greatsword.

The orcish lands are still mostly undeveloped by modern society, and much of the orcs' political weight comes from their ability to trade in untapped natural resources. Orcish lands, due mostly to the isolationism of the homeland orcs, are largely uninhabited by any non-orcs, and so orcish politics are more insulated than other groups'. In this sort of vacuum, orcs judge government's role as mainly an administrator of warfare. The many orcs who leave their homeland behind often do so in order to live under more formal governmental bodies with more diverse economic opportunities. The political issues which matter most to orcs are the vision of the Ragnar, the security of orcish settlements, and the political maneuverings of the elves, who historically have meddled in their affairs.

Vestry, the sprawling gnomish capital city, is the only planned community in the Big Nine. The gnomes adopted a democratic socialist government over a hundred years ago, and part of this plan included the construction of a grand capital city. The resulting city--a geometrically perfect series of interlocking squares--it large, easy to navigate, and chock full of readily available housing. Many of Vestry's citizens are struggling non-gnomes, who are for the most part accepted as recognition that their city works well and attracts people. The government is run in a hierarchical system that makes use of a specialized test that identifies strong potential leaders. At the age of 35 years, gnomes are given a test which measures their aptitudes in a wide variety of areas. According to the results, they are then given a list of careers for which they are suited, from which a gnome selects the career they most desire. This test, the Gnomish Overall Literacy Demonstration (GOLD), is one of the foremost technological advances achieved by the modern world and is revered for its accuracy. This method also selects candidates for leadership: 21 posts of gnomish leadership exist: 16 Barons, 4 Dukes, and 1 Lord. Elections are held  in which all gnomes may vote, choosing from the 21 gnomes with the highest GOLD scores for governmental careers. Each post's term lasts 10 years. There is no limit on the amount of terms a gnome can serve, though only gnomes are considered for election, despite some previous suggestions that other races residing in Vestry should also be allowed to hold office. Barons and Dukes are assigned to their section of the gnomish capital by choice in descending order of votes received. Should the majority of the Barons or of the Dukes decide that any position of leadership is being filled not to satisfaction, a vote is called to determine whether or not to replace that leader. A simple majority will determine the vote.

The current Lord of Vestry is Porath Ouzy Cetia Darris Urall Etel Tessedor Wink. In non-gnomish society, he goes by "Tessedor Wink." Wink is incredibly intelligent and good-natured, if a bit naïve. During his schooling, Wink developed a reputation as someone who believes that rules should be twisted when necessary, which was a large aspect of his election. Wink spends very little money to keep Vestry running as it should, but is very effective in doing so. Little in the way of reform has occurred under his rule, but the prosperity of Vestry has remained constant throughout. Widely respected as a ruler, Wink is also a talented wizard in the school of abjuration. At the age of 171, Wink is beginning to reach his older years and has served four consecutive terms. His current term will end in 4725. He was first elected directly to Lord in 4685, after the previous Lord's decision to not run again.

Many gnomes are highly individualistic and driven by wealth, prompting many observers to point out that a system that treats individuals equally and collects a regular tax seems hardly gnomish. But because gnomes are raised in tightly knit communities, they tend towards such collectivist ends. There has been a growing movement under Lord Wink that proposes Vestry raises taxes slightly in order to fund more humanitarian efforts, but the gnomish community remains split over this issue. The political issues that gnomes prize most include freedom of education, freedom of speech, and having a meaningful voice in elections.

Underhar, the dwarven capital built into a mountain range, operates under an aristocratic republic. There is nominal voting for the leader, the "Dronith," or "Regent," but many non-dwarves disregard this idea because so few dwarves are allowed to vote. The 10,000 dwarves whose families own the most land are given one vote to cast for self-declared candidates. The candidate receiving more votes than any other is made Dronith. The Dronith rules for 20 years and elections are held again. Rarely are re-elections ever seen, and a dwarf who does not hold the right to vote has never been elected. There is no method of replacing a Dronith with whom the people are dissatisfied. Droniths historically have had a range of approaches to the position, ranging from tight control of social rules and leanings towards war to completely hands-off approaches.

The current Dronith is Foln Craghammer. Craghammer was elected by his peers to be Dronith in 4720 at the age of 206. Respected for his family lines (his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather all served as Droniths in their times), Craghammer is expected to be a reliable leader who will stand by the values of dwarven culture. So far in his term, Craghammer has not done anything of note except to ignore the requests of the voting dwarves to honor the previous Dronith through a regal ceremony, a practice made regular in the last three centuries. During his education, Craghammer showed an affinity for weaponsmithing, though his professors complained that he lacked imagination in the pursuit. Public opinion is still forming, but many expect Craghammer to follow his forefathers' example of making speeches without using governmental force to back his words up.

Dwarves have long held their cultural achievements high, and it is likely that the dwarven love of their past surpasses all other races' tastes for tradition. However, the increasing globalism of the world has introduced a variety of more modern approaches to government, and new ideas are beginning to become part of public conversations, most notably discussions of changing the voting rules to allow all dwarves to cast ballots, but the establishment has pushed back firmly. The issues that contemporary dwarves care most about are property rights, living according to dwarven customs, and being able to practice family traditions (ranging from religious ceremonies to learning family trades).

New Dalton, the newly built mega-city of the Daltoners on Evanoch's east coast, is run nominally by a "Tsar," but the real power exists in the hands of the "Bishop," the head of Dalton's Church of Pelor (a violent and sacrificial twist on the more peaceful worship of the sun god). Here, Pelor is worshipped as the creator of everything and is commonly worshipped by nearly all humans in New Dalton. The Bishop's influence over Daltoners is a rival power with the Tsar's, though it is commonly accepted that the people listen more to the Bishop than the Tsar. The Bishop is chosen by a small group of Chancellors in the Church of Pelor. Bishops also serve for life.

The current Tsar of New Dalton is Torvald Gorp. Gorp is regarded generally well by New Daltoners, but non-Daltoners accept that Gorp is an unintelligent puppet for the Bishop of the Church of Dalton, Gareth Hannibal. Hannibal, age 68, is beloved by the people of New Dalton, but detested by those outside the Dalton Church of Pelor. He is believed to be extremely corrupt, though there is no concrete evidence of such claims in the public conversation. Undeniable is the fact that the palace has grown more lavishly decorated in the 17 years he has been Bishop while the poor and devout of New Dalton have grown even poorer. Born and educated in New Dalton, Hannibal is the first Bishop of the Dalton Church of Pelor to have never served as a cleric. He was appointed Bishop in 4703, and in that time, his public speeches have reinforced traditional Daltoner values (or lack thereof).

New Daltoners are very much still outsiders in Evanoch, but they view the entire continent as somehow theirs, as though their previous attempts to colonize the continent are only on hold. A combination of intentional misinformation from the government and church along with incidental in-fighting within the population has led to an internal division in New Daltoners. On one hand are the loyalists who pledge themselves to the faraway island of Dalton, their homeland, and on the other are those who recognize that New Dalton is more than Dalton ever was. The political issues that drive most Daltoners are their so-called racial supremacy, the prominence of the Dalton Church of Pelor, and the edicts from rulers back on Dalton (which often place demands on the more successful colony).

Finiel, a predominantly elven, Faninite, and half-elven city in the northwest, is ruled by a council of elders. A triumvirate of the three oldest living citizens rules Finiel; its current rulers are Begarrel Vilvort (762 years old; 83 years on panel), Zintar Seppest (693 years old; 42 years on panel), and Drofille Quoll (684 years; 27 years on panel). Vilvort and Seppest agree on a conservative view of fiscal matters while Quoll tends toward a more liberal spending philosophy; Vilvort and Quoll agree on liberal social policies while Seppest is reliably conservative in the area. The current panel has overseen a modest increase in economic activity, especially in terms of foreign trade; life has otherwise been very stable for the last quarter-century. This is considered a rather welcome change after the relative turbulence by the previous panel, which struggled to agree on anything at all. Prior to their lives on the panel, Vilvort, Seppest, and Quoll made their livings as a primary school teacher, a landlord, and a carpenter, respectively.

The people of Finiel, with their backgrounds from elven and Faninite cultures, is the only city in the Big Nine which has a significant population of Faninites--the humble humans have tended to spread across the continent, making it rare to see a concentration of them. In the years since Faninites found their way to Evanoch, their quiet and nature-revering culture has endeared them to elves, and in fact their union led to the creation of half-elves in the first place. Finiel, though de facto ruled by elves due to the age requirement, is heavily marked by these other populations, with even the most beloved statue in the city depicting a half-elf.

In Finiel, the council model has led to relatively little change over time. As a result, some of the Faninites and half-elves in the city have made public suggestions to the council to do more to incorporate non-elves in politics. This movement has yet to form into an actual change, as the council insists that having three rulers rather than one makes them triply democratic than the elven Cestalion, but many believe the movement is only beginning. The most vital Finiel issues are the right to self-expression, respecting nature, and the right to organize.

Ringsdale, an industrial city at the heart of a mountain range, is ruled by a highly structured hierarchy of judges. The relatively young city cropped up when aspiring industrialists gathered at the resource-rich site. No official laws exist in Ringsdale; if one citizen feels wronged by another, they take the complaint to the appropriate judge, who then resolves it. The judges are elected from a pool of individuals nominated by their professional peers. The system is supposed to ensure that only dedicated experts make meaningful decisions about what happens in town. Appeals allow the decision to rise from the tertiary judges to the secondary or primary judges. The are nine judges at the tertiary level, three at the secondary level, and one at the primary level. The following illustrates the domains and current judges: 

				Ringsdale
				Edmund Yorke
				Head, Labor Union of Ringsdale
	Sciences			Economy			Philosophy
	Torny Stron Hegett Ply			Zacharias Orlett			Argus Westover
	Head Librarian, Ringsdale University			Chief Banker, Ringsdale First Bank			Professor of Ethics, Ringsdale University
Magic	Academics	Engineering	Agriculture	Industry	Service	Civil	Justice	Religion
Gretchen Willard	Bram Laren	Rell Jimber Drozzy Liskit	Evan Tokener	Earl Custos	Priscilla Rainier	Geoffrey Jaswell	Amund Zigor	Nikolas Geare
Head, Ringsdale Wizards’ Union	Dean, Ringsdale University	Owner, Mountainside Workshop	Local Farmer, 200 acres of cropland and 1000 animals	Chief Foreman, Ringsdale Steelworks	Owner, Priscilla’s Café	Former lawyer, New Dalton	Head Cleric of St. Cuthbert	Head Cleric of Pelor

[Regular readers will recognize the name of "Amund Zigor," the Justice Judge--he was a former character I played, and I thought it would be nice to give him a minor role here. Another judge is named for the DM under whom I played Zig, who also played Rupert in Listen Check. It can be fun to drop in characters you care about, but don't let your feelings about that character affect how your players interact with them.]

The Chief Judge, Edmund Yorke, importantly does not represent a specific matched position for his field. As head of the Ringsdale Labor Union, he represents the interests of the majority of Ringsdale citizens. Under Edmund Yorke’s oversight for the last fifteen years, Ringsdale has continually grown its economy and established itself as an economic powerhouse, even if the city has a severe inequality of wealth distribution.

Citizens of Ringsdale popularly discuss their government as a trade-off between meaningful justice and freedom to live as one sees fit. The population of Ringdale includes every race in a substantial proportion, and so the founders of the city sought to create a minimally-intrusive system which could still protect citizens' rights. The most important political issues in Ringsdale are the right to work for a fair wage, the right to organize, and the security of personal property. 

Talon Gorge, until very recently the last remaining monarchy in the Big Nine, the city recently switched to a democratically-elected council following a collapse of the government sparked by the former royal family's assassination. Under the new government, a council of seven representatives governs Talon Gorge. People who worked for the former kingdom are barred from election. The current council members are (1) Bernard Spellman (a shopkeep), (2) Miriam Grover (a chef), (3) Wendy Sandshifter (a healer), (4) Grongak Tru’usk (a soldier/adventurer), (5) Vinsanon Flian (a trapper), (6) Dent Sole Widget Bramble (a tinker), and (7) Candace Stair (a courier). The council is largely successful in avoiding gridlock and resolving things as a group, although it is widely known that Representative Tru’usk is the most vocal and successful in pushing his preferred projects through at the cost of others’ success. The representatives will face reelection in 4725, when voting for the positions will happen once more. Under the council, Talon Gorge has become more equitable in terms of wealth distribution, more attentive to social issues, and more successful in battling government corruption.

The population of Talon Gorge, like Ringsdale's, is widely varied. Under the old kingdom, neighborhoods were fairly segregated by race and class, but the city's new vision includes breaking down that barrier. Many buildings were destroyed in the collapse of the kingdom, and rebuilding the city has been the council's main task. Nevertheless, they have still begun to administer social programs, many in the style of nearby Vestry's system. Unlike the other cities, Talon Gorge appears to have a united populace behind its changing profile, and many commentators have remarked that Talon Gorge may well be the most prominent city on the continent in the coming decades.

Evidence of this shared attitude can be found in the rebuilding efforts. Reports have shown that hundreds of Talon Gorge citizens closed businesses and cancelled travels in order to tend to the wounded, houseless, and otherwise displaced. This newfound sense of community which emerged from the overthrow of the kingdom has fueled a reawakening of civic interest. The issues that Talon Gorge citizens care the most about are community service, economic security, and an atmosphere of social inclusion.

Torga, a port city known for its criminal element, is ruled by a Governor, a system of courts, and a formalized law enforcement team. The Governor is an elected official who has historically been plucked from the world of business, though recent history has seen the election of several members of the law enforcement team, the Jute (so-named for their roughspun uniforms). The Governor has fairly limited power, but they are capable of instructing the Jute's leader (the Sheriff) and proposing laws to the governing courts. The court system is broad, with the team of 10 judges appointed by the current Governor when the former judge resigns or dies. The Sheriff is likewise appointed by the Governor, but the Sheriff is in charge of hiring Jute officers. The current Governor is Gint Nilch, a former Jute member. 

Because Torga has a diverse population (though historically orcish, dwarven, and Daltoner), the main means that citizens use to identify themselves is not by race or class, but by legal alignment: Jute, criminal, or bystander. Oftentimes in the city's troubled history, the government has passed measures to crack down on criminals, such as the recent deal in which any criminal could get amnesty for informing on their allies. But the criminals have always fought back, at times even tampering in the election process. As a result, citizens of Torga often feel as though they are helpless, hence the term "bystander."

Torga's politics recently were transformed when a do-nothing Governor and heavy-handed Sheriff both resigned and named members of the Jute with reputations for honesty. Under the new government, which has focused more on helping "bystanders" than fighting criminals, things have shown minor signs of improvement. The political issues that make Torgans the most passionate are the stability of the economy, protection from crime/freedom from persecution, and improving relations with the surrounding cities (Torga has only interacted with other cities for trade for over a hundred years). 

How to Develop a Historical Event in Your Gameworld

Your gameworld has a distinct history and vibrant cultures. The forces of history combine to create a variety of effects that govern the way life in your world functions. And a well-developed history can inspire your players and show them that the gameworld is more real than they realize. But developing a sense of your world's history can be a challenge--which details are useful? This guide will show you how to turn an idea for a historical event into a full expression of your world. Read on for the details you'll need to create a meaningful historical event. 

In my gameworld, I have developed a few historical events into world-changing things that every person in the world knows about. Most of these events are designed to show how the origin of my society reached the point where standard D&D ideas can be represented. To that end, I developed historical events like the dissolution of kingdoms and the forging of a shared currency, which give my world a form that lends itself to D&D details. But I have also developed unique world events that make my world distinct from other homebrew settings. This guide will revolve around one such event--the Magic War--and show you how to design an event like it. 

Let's start with the write-up and move into why these choices serve you in your worldbuilding. You can find the document I've prepared here; I'll be using it as a framework for what we're doing here. The first thing that I think we should address is the brainstorming aspect. When worldbuilding and creating historical events, we want to imagine things that have meaningful effects on everyday life. I am in some ways hesitant to use a war as the example here, because often the result of wars is simply that a border changes or a certain group's access to governmental representation changes. These can be interesting ideas, but what's much more interesting is a world event that affects the culture of the world. I developed the Magic War not so much as a large armed conflict but more of an ideological struggle. That's why the conflict of the Magic War is about what people think magic should be treated as; there are forces which say to keep magic free, forces which say to regulate magic, and forces which want to outlaw magic altogether. I like this conflict because it's really about people's beliefs about fairness and power. I would recommend that you too develop events that are more culturally-oriented, if only because it will have much more interesting effects on your world than a series of battles. 

So now we have our main idea--a conflict between people from all walks of life along ideological lines. Then it's time to make a web of the information that will define how the conflict plays out. I started with the names of organizations and individuals who were prominent in the conflict. This gives me the ability to come back to these names when I need someone to do something important; it also lets me start before the conflict with just the ideas of the people who would get involved. Here's my array of important people--note that many are tied to the important organizations, which gives a sense that many broad interests are being served under a single banner: 

Combatants:	Pro-Magic	Pro-Regulation	Pro-Abolishment
Major Forces:	United Academies of Evanoch	High Council of Commerce	Citizens Against Magic
	The Magic User Alliance	Religious Protection League	Nature Preservation Society
	Governments of Mishara, Talon Gorge, Vestry	Governments of Finiel, New Dalton, Ringsdale, Torga, Underhar	Unified Artisan Coalition
Major Players:	Plia Yallo, Magic User Alliance Chief	Murphy Cavedweller, politician	Craig Nerrin, Regent of Such
	Forrester Ridge, grand sorcerer	Preston Rafter, high priest	Vaughn Plouder, CAM Head
	Randall Mintner, UAE Dean	Harley Constance, author	Terry Humbert, UAC Representative
	Torrine Aureli, high cleric	Pauline Foster, HCC Chair	Evelyn Knot, NPS Leader
	Calies Tasselman, scholar	Lenk Prodd, philosopher	Daniel Thorpe, Chief Editor of New Dalton Herald
Major Combatants:	Friella Volinea, grand mage	Julian Harp, famed mercenary	General Grant Taggert
	Laurie Denning, high cleric	Colonel Stephen Holton	Ophelia Dinnir, tracker
	Felix Pilliu, grand mage	Jackie Dustrider, mercenary	Captain Tossul Vark
	Lop Friggle Rind Seppa, grand sorcerer	Roger Gillina, high cleric	Sergeant Knox Bulwark
	Insellor Diesef, mercenary	Private Jop Derritt	Gerald Blademaker, militia leader
Casualties:	9,642	28,382	51,951
Total:		79,975

In addition to the organizations and names (which distinguish between combatants and more diplomatic or ideological players), I included a breakdown of the casualties on each side of the conflict. I figured that magic users have access to more power than the average person who wants magic abolished, and there are generally fewer magic users than otherwise, and ultimately the magic users do win, so I gave them the lowest casualty count. They're followed by Regulation forces, which might have a few magic users but who are more neutral in the conflict and thereby less inclined to be targeted by enemy forces than a diametrically opposed side. Finally, the Abolition forces take the highest casualties, as they are the least able to defend themselves and are the likeliest to be targeted by magic users. Initially, these numbers were just semi-random digits, but having a general idea to start with means that I have a reference point to work with. 

The next step is to create an overview of the information included in your event. In my overview, I talk about the formation of the sides of the conflict; one specific politician's suggestion of regulating magic to resolve sore feelings about magic users caused people everywhere to take sides depending on what they believe is right. I also describe the beginning of hostilities and the close of those hostilities with just enough detail that I have a sense of the framework of the event. You'll notice if you're looking at the description of the Magic War that the opening and closing of the war are really just suggestions of a larger idea. I like that because I'm a GM who loves to improvise and leave areas open in my gameworld in order to let players decide the world's fate. If you're a little more inclined to have everything totally spelled out, then develop these ideas in greater detail. But I think that unless you're having your player characters learn intense historical education, you can use the detail level I'm representing--it's what an average living person who didn't serve in the war would know, and that's enough. 

Next, I include a short section on the war itself. I indicate that magic users had a specific position in the war; many of their governments advocated for Regulation, and many of their neighbors were advocating for the Abolition of magic. This means that magic users were suddenly turned against their communities; it was fight your neighbors or lose your livelihood, and that gave the magic users a certain edge in the fight; they had more to lose than anyone else, and that edge ultimately turned the tide for the magic users. 

The next section in the document is a breakdown of major battles in the war. If you're opting for a more cultural impact than a war, I recommend substituting this section with a list of cultural events and diplomatic actions, or something that similarly serves your event. Such a list might include successful and failed diplomatic missions, public statements, newspaper articles, works of art, governmental measures, or inventions. In the case of the Magic War, though, these events are represented by battles. For each battle, I indicate a date that the battle took place, a location that the battle took place, which forces fought there, and what the casualties looked like. I also include a description of the battle: how it started, who fired the first shot, what actions turned the tide of the battle, and how it ended, as well as impacts of the battle (like changes to the momentum of the involved forces and later battles). 

I include in my list a total of five battles. I think that five is a good number to stick with; less than that, and the event seems abbreviated and unrealistic, but more than that, and the event seems unwieldy and includes too many details for the players to really process and appreciate. In the case of the Magic War, the five battles show the general trend of the war over time; the magic users initially pull ahead, the Regulation and Abolition forces deal heavy blows to one another, and the magic users experience a setback. This general trend sets up the magic users as favorites, but the late Indigar Raid hands the magic users a mixture of a draw and defeat. You can imagine how the culture of the world is affected by all of this. Abolition forces see magic users as uncontrollable liabilities who can overpower anyone they choose, and the early battles of the war bear this out. It was only the increasing ruthlessness of the war that led to the Indigar Raid, as people feared a world in which magic users could go unchecked in their powers. Thousands of Regulation and Abolition forces were dying compared to only hundreds of Pro-Magic forces. It was a troubling time for many. And it all sets the stage for the end of the war. 

I've also included a section called "Important Events." This, like the overview, is not as detailed as it could be; the idea here is to create a sense of what is going on during the war that isn't a direct battle. This is another place you could lean on the many cultural things that we can consider (successful and failed diplomatic missions, public statements, newspaper articles, works of art, governmental measures, or inventions). In the case of the Magic War, I opted for a few assassination attempts and a public massacre. Initially, there are some botched assassination attempts: the magic users fail at the assassination of two Regulation leaders, and the Regulation forces respond by assassinating a prominent magic user leader. This is early in the war, so it adds to the sense that magic users were fighting everyone around them; the early failure to assassinate rival leaders makes the magic user cause more desperate to get the upper hand. The public massacre is a way to show that the war turned the public consciousness violent enough to attack civilians, and it also shows that the war was loudly opposed by even some who had a stake in the war. Finally, I close this section with the Abolition assassination of an vital Regulation leader; this both removes Regulation momentum and shows that Abolition forces grew more violent and desperate as the war escalated and turned away from their favor. 

The final section in this document is about the resolution of the war. I describe the final battle of the war, which the magic users decisively win with the deployment of a powerful spell ("Stop Time" freezes the battlefield, allowing magic user forces to strike at their foes invulnerably). As a result, Regulation and Abolition forces capitulate at a tavern in the nearby city of Talon Gorge, and free use of magic reigns supreme over the land. The treaty signed by Regulation and Abolition forces recognized free magic as the law of the land and dissolved the military forces of all sides involved. So ends the Magic War after nearly a year of slaughter across the countryside, and today, people in my world are still bitterly committed to their cause, but do not speak of it for fear of riling up someone with a different cause. 

So I've developed this whole historical event. No what? Well, there are lots of things you can do with an event like this. One fairly obvious implementation would be a campaign that is set during the Magic War. I've developed it as history, but wouldn't all the fighting and diplomacy and other machinations of the war be a fun storyline? I could just put my players in my world 30 years before the present day and let them serve in the army of their choosing. Or I could have a storyline that echoes that event--perhaps there's a faction of Abolition forces who have been quiet for years but are lurking in the darkness, preparing to launch the first attack of a new war. Or it could be more cultural in scope: perhaps the players are involved at a university where debates over the war are still raging. Or we might get even more cultural and start dropping references to the war in common speech--perhaps a wizened old spellcaster has stories about their old days serving for the right to use magic. Or maybe the appeal of Regulation never went away, and some cities and towns are starting again to push for Regulation--what would a spellcasting player character do? These are all just some ideas about how to include the historical event in the gameworld so that it's more than an idea, but an actual reality for the players. You can do all this and more with a well-developed historical event. 

So get to it: brainstorm your idea, get the big picture written down, and start to think about how the details can reflect the big picture. You'll find that even the most unassuming idea can become spectacular with the right details in place. And remember that these events should honor your players as much as your own interests--try developing historical events that reflect what your players are interested in by personalizing your game's content. And most of all, have fun with it. Creating a history for your world should create interest in the gameworld for you, so if you're not having fun, bring it closer to what you really enjoy. Before long, you'll have a sparkling, rich gameworld your players will love. 

That's all for now. Coming soon: a list of ideas for your next BBEG, a one-shot inspired by Alice in Wonderland, and naming conventions in my homebrew world. Until next time, happy gaming!

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