Of all the articles Collins wrote, the one that most affected me was "The Making of a Milieu," which appeared in issue #93 (January 1985). Its subtitle was "How to start a world and keep it turning." The article is basically a lengthy discussion of how to build not just a campaign setting but a campaign itself, which is to say, how to kick things off in such a way as to ensure that play continues for months or years afterward. Nowadays, a lot of what Collins wrote might be considered old hat, but, back in 1985, it was nothing short of revelatory, at least to me.
Up until that point, I'd largely run my campaigns either in my beloved World of Greyhawk setting or else in some nebulous, vaguely defined setting. In neither case did I give much thought to "the Big Picture." And by "the Big Picture," I don't mean a plan or a script for the players to follow in their adventures. Rather, I mean only some notion of how all the various pieces of the setting interrelate and how they might be used to serve my purposes as a referee. Prior to reading this article, my campaigns were just random collections of "stuff that happened" somewhere and that was usually good enough.
By 1985, though, I started to think it wasn't good enough. I'd become so thoroughly immersed in fantasy literature, especially of the Interminable Series of Ponderous Tomes variety and I wanted my campaigns and settings to mirror that. Perhaps unsurprisingly, 1985 also marked the beginning of the period during which I actually played less and less. I went to a different high school than all my neighborhood friends and I became distracted by other things. But I was still as interested in D&D as ever and devoting my time to world building seemed an adequate substitute for actually playing the game.
Collins gave me lots of food for thought about how to build a setting, stuff that kept me thinking and creating for years to come. For example, he suggested creating several maps of the campaign area, each one depicting the area at a different point in history. In this way, names and settlements can be altered to reflect the rise and fall of empires, the migrations of people, and other such events. So I spent a lot of time at the library making photocopies of a blank map of my new, original campaign setting – the first I'd ever come up with – and then adding details to it, so that I eventually amassed a lot of information in pictorial form about how the setting evolved over the centuries. It was a fairly simple thing but quite effective and it gave me a lot of pleasure as a teenager.
These days, I'd never go to even the meager lengths Collins suggested in planning out a campaign or its setting. I'm much more of a seat-of-the-pants kind of guy; indeed, I embrace it as the best way to play the game. At the same time, I retain a great deal of fondness for this article, in large part because it broke me of certain other bad habits, namely my dependence on published material for ideas. As Collins so aptly put it at the conclusion of his article:
When I began playing the AD&D game six years ago, there were very few playing aids on the market of the type that are now so abundant. There was no WORLD OF GREYHAWK Fantasy Setting, no Hârn, and very few canned modules in print. Very nearly all of our adventuring had to come out of our own heads. And I still think that's fantasy gaming at its best. I now meet players, especially young ones, who think that, in order to play the AD&D game or some other such activity, they must invest megabucks in someone else's ideas. It shocks many of them when I suggest that it's more fun to make it up yourself.I was one of those young players about whom Collins speaks, at least to some degree, which is why I owe the man a debt of thanks. I may no longer build a campaign the way he suggests in this article. However, that I build my own at all is in large part a result of what he says in it.
Alas for them! No canned module, no playing aid, no set of rules, no list of NPCs can quite become your very own. As enjoyable and thought-provoking as all the published material may be, it is a poor substitute for creating your own campaign milieu, designing your own castles, and exercising your own brain. Creativity is what the game is about. It would be a shame if the success of fantasy gaming contributed to the stifling of creativity in its own enthusiastic adherents.

One of my favourite Dragon articles as a youngster; always read anything by Arthur Collins, Stephen Innis or Katherine Kerr. Still do the old copy a bunch of blank maps and gradually fill them in with developing historical entities over time routine, but only for worlds I've heavily invested in. Always liked the less is more maxim Collins preaches in this article as well; didn't really understand when younger and tended towards a kitchen sink approach but latterly more selective in what I place within world. Nostalgia! :-)
ReplyDeleteI'd have to disagree with Collins about published material. Some of us aren't that creative and/or have the time to build a game world. I'm creative, but not so much so to where I can make a fully detailed game world. Besides that, I don't think I could ever make anything as good as something that is published.
ReplyDeleteEven now, my current campaign is in the Hyborian Age. I'm using that as the springboard for the rest of the game. It's detailed enough and it suits my needs. From there, the world is a sandbox for the players to explore.
I've played on and off for about 45 years and I've come across some real dogs of home brew campaigns. Some of them were just weird, others were forgettable. The sad thing is the DMs who made them thought they were great. They thought since they created it themselves, it MUST be good. Unfortunately, most of the time this isn't the case.
This doesn't mean that someone can't create something on their own. But the thing is, you have to be really good. You should have an basic understanding of geography, history, economics, ecology, and more to create a playable game setting.
But you have DMs with egos who suffer from the Dunning-Kruger effect, and make game world that are simply just bad.
I agree with this perspective to the furthest point (in fact, I hated Greyhawk from the get-go. How dare the creator of the game share his setting!), but I think it slightly overlooks the idea that a few of the published adventures completely lent themselves to the creation of unique campaigns.
ReplyDeleteI think I was very fortunate that the very first module I owned and ran was The Lost City, as Mentzer kindly let you pick the module for the Basic Set, rather than railroading you. My mom actually picked it, as Mentzer Basic, Moldvay Expert, 1e Players Handbook, and the Lost City were my Christmas gifts that year. (Strangely, Isle of Dread which came with Moldvay Expert, was never even read by my me, though we may have played it for a session years later. "Bah!" I thought, "If I wanted to do something in the wilderness, I'd go to the woods behind my house. It's Dungeons and Dragons, after all, not Dinosaurs and Beaches!" Had I not been a dumb kid, I likely would have mashed up Isle of Dread with the Lost City and made that my entire setting for years to come.)
Lost City, developed from a dungeon sketch to an underground society where my players had no idea how many factions were allied with others, at war with others, or if Zargon was even real or not. At a certain point, I wasn't even drawing maps, I was just making up directions, secret doors, traps on the fly, and then referring to the player map if they ever circled back! I'm pretty sure I ended up with more than 20 partial levels below the published levels - my favorite part was a wholly random maze with a riddling Charolais minotaur (my grasp of mythology was tenuous at best, but I grew up on a farm, and I loved the idea of getting into a battle of wits with our family's handsome white bull!) in the middle of it. I would love to get those maps back, though I'm sure they are much more elaborate and endlessly inspiring in my mind rather than in reality, but I bet they'd still be at least kind of cool today.
All but one of the original PCs eventually died in The Lost City. The one who survived made it to 7th or 8th, but the rest of the party was much lower level than that. This was in part because we thought that when you rolled up a new character you always had to start at 1st level, but also because trying to roll and advance a character to the "appropriate" level always took too long. We did ignore the rules about advancing mid-dungeon, though. Still, by the time they got to Zargon, these 2nd and 3rd level PCs were leading squads of factions against the cultists,
I have no doubt, in any case, that my Lost City was a Moldvay-assisted unique product of (mostly) my imagination. We even unintentionally Christened the city of Cynidicea by mispronouncing it "Cindy-Sea." I did not realize the mistake until decades after the fact.
I never read this article at the time, but I would have delighted in it then. It might have reminded me that there was life beyond DragonLance. It took changing systems entirely for me to come to that renewed realization.
But really, that's to
the original author's point. The intent of TSR may have been to develop revenue streams based on supplements, but the intent of The Game is to develop individual, non-commercial settings and campaigns.
DeleteDaneil, Isle of Dread + Lost City (or Tamoachan if you're feeling dungeony) is a thing of beauty indeed.
ReplyDeleteTo Collins's article conclusion: I can see Gamer Gary nodding his head, "do it yourself"; I can hear TSR Gary gnashing his teeth, "buy our product!"
Blackstone has a point, though, and one I share. We created an entire Wendar campaign from X11 Saga of the Shadow Lord that ran under its own power, with no further product input (I love Mystara, I despise nearly all the Gazetteers), for nearly five years.