While working on the next #dicember post (which is definitely coming I think), I felt like doing something else and went to make material to playtest the FLoK instead.
The thought was a common one 'I can just use stuff I have already made, it won't be a lot of work and it might help me flesh out the #dicemeber content I am making. It'll take no time at all.' Learning not to think like that will probably never happen, and even if it did might not actually change my behaviour all that much. Still, I should know better because, of course, it didn't take 'no time at all'. However, this time there was an interesting reason for it.
The FLoK extended universe
The FLoK world is a weird one. Stories and events are constantly changing each other, like a positive feedback loop. Initially, this was a contrivance added to the world to make sense of level progression without having to add in actual level progression: Act like a thief, stories will arise about how good of a thief you are, which in turn will make you a better thief.
What I didn't consider for even a moment was how this contrivance (as well as the FLoK's magic system) impacts adventure writing. And I might never have if I wasn't writing an accidental litch adventure for #dicemeber which I wanted to use for playtesting the FLoK.
The problem is that, because magic is incredibly rare and single use in what I will mockingly call the 'FLoK extended universe', it makes no sense to have a litch slowely ressurect the victims of an avelanche to then spread the joys of being undead to the rest of the world.
Moreover, because of the way deeds and stories are linked it wouldn't make any sense to have that set up as some sort of revalation for the players to learn during the adventure. Some version of what happened, probably embelished in some way, would have been circulating around the town.
Thus, I was struck with a sudden revelation: Because of the ways in which the FLoK extended universe differs from 'Generic Fantasy Land' I can't just not use my accidental litch adventure, I would have to rethink how to write adventures in the first place.
Love this guy, wish I also loved the show...
Adventure writing for the FLoK
To have a consistent world I think it is of some importance that what counts for the PCs should count for the NPCs, at least on some fundamental level. Not that I disagree with Emily Allen in her post on utilizing weirdness in tRPGs. However, I think it does help to have certain fundamental rules about a setting which make it easier to come up with stuff on the fly for a table playing a game in that world.
It could be that this world allows for anything at all, which is a great way to keep things fresh and leave options open for all players, including the GM, to add to the game world in whatever way they want. But what I had decided made the FLoK extended universe different from other iterations of Fantasy Land was precisely this link between stories and events, between language and objects.
Given all of this, I made a quick outline of what to take into account when adventure writing for the FLoK, which I will now share while pretending that anyone other than myself will ever run this game (assuming I will ever run this game). Lifted straight from my playtesting document:
Basic Adventure Origins:
Something extra-ordinary happens -> stories make it larger -> things like that happen more often -> stories make it larger -> etc.
The way in which this basic idea changes adventure writing is both small and big. For one, it means interesting adventure sites are always subject of local myths and stories, which will all at least be partially true. It also means that all extraordinary creatures are the subject of stories as well and, through the same positive feedback loop through which characters grow in FLoK, have all have inherent timers that will make them more formidable the longer you ignore them.
I guess sort of like Shonen Bat in Paranoia Agent?
An example: The Beast of Kingswood
The Beast of Kingswood is an adventure I am writing to playtest FLoK with and makes a decent example of what how I think this basic idea would be put into practice.
The beast itself was once a pack of wolves. For some reason (probably forestation) the pack starts to pick off sheep and eventually the shepherds that try to protect the sheep. Because the pack hunts like one, they become singular in the stories and eventually turn into some freaky many-headed wolf:
"No a pack of ordinary wolves could have done this, they must be some strange breed of super wolves."
"I've seen it and there is no pack. It is always just the one and Josephine saw it too and said it looked exactly the same. This is some sort of renegade freak wolf."
"No. Never has any shepherd seen a wolf kill as efficiently and ruthlessly as this beast does. This is no wolf, but some sort of monsterous beast."
"I've heard the beast howl. It was horrible, like the sound came from many different heads at once."
"When it kills, it doesn't eat its victims' bodies, only their heads for some strange reason."
"That's because with each head it consumes it grows another!"
"Took a shot at that... thing once. Moved on like nothing changed, though I saw something fell from its body. An emaciated wolf, hit exactly where I shot the beast. That monster has as many lives as it has heads!"
This is what the beast is like at the start of the adventure. Imagine what it will grow to become if left unattended.
Kind of like this fella from Gravity Falls. Damn, that ending was disappointing.
The Beast has made its home in Kingswood, hunting grounds of the King and thus only allowed to be hunted at his descretion. Because the townsfolk aren't allowed into Kingswood there are a lot of stories about it, most having to do with things associated with royalty:
The Forest’s True Sovereign: At dusk and dawn the Forest’s numen walks her land, searching for someone to entertain her in her lavish halls.
Her Joshing Lords and Ladies: The trees move behind your back in an attempt to confuse you and snicker quietly at your bewilderment.
Their Easily Offended Subjects: The plants are unforgiving and quick to seek retribution when they interpret actions as hostile or offensive.
These stories about both the Beast and the Kingswood are accesible to the players. Now the stories might be incomplete, leaving some room for reveals, but for the most part this is going to be a game relying heavily on OSR problems: Even when the situation is clear, there is no obvious sollution.
What I guess I'm trying to say
The slogan of FKR 'play worlds, not rules' has profoundly changed the way I approach systems and mechanics. Considering the world takes precedent over thinking about mechanics. I find myself agreeing with Justin Hamilton in this post that FKR isnt so much about the amount of rules you use, but about how you use them. As such, any mechanic I use is preferably an intuitive abstraction of something happening in the world which makes it easier for (some of) the players to play in that world.
What I hadn't expected though is how this mentality of putting the world first also applies to adventure writing. So on top of 'play worlds, not rules', I guess we can add 'write adventures to fit their worlds' as an FKR slogan for those who are interested in the designing part of the hobby.
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