Ret-Conning Skye Stalwart

I got an idea to retcon Skye Stalwart a bit... my original thought was that she (at some point in the near future of Doc's timeline) traveled to the future and joined the Stalwart Legion of the 28th Century. I have since added a four-part appearance of the Stalwart Legion to the official list of Doc stories, in a battle against Synchronous (in the early 1970s). I figured that this version wouldn't have her in it yet, but then I thought it would be even better if I decided this was a twist; the Stalwart Legion 'always' had Skye Stalwart in it (so she is an existing character circa 1985), but Doc didn't know this was his daughter... maybe SHE didn't even know she was his daughter. So, he's already met an older version of her, thinking that this was a far future descendent, and only recently learned that she was actually his daughter who had been whisked to the future.

I like a lot about this idea, and it puts Skye into the more active continuity of other things, so I like that better, too. I like that her story is, in effect, told 'out of time', because we meet her a bit older than she ultimately ends up being in the primary continuity.

It might even be worth tying this all to Scooter James as a creative force; Skye Stalwart was his idea at maybe twelve years old, and he was the one who ultimately made the decision to add her to the current continuity as Doc's daughter. I like it that she is 'his' character.

I have decided that whatever ends up in print in Stalwart '85 is going to be the final, official word on what actually happened in the continuity of this world, and I'm going to have to build from it. Needless to say, I'll be spending some time really thinking through how all of the various pieces truly fit together before publishing that final book in a few months...

The Incredible Story of Mighty Doc Stalwart Annual #2

Scooter James may have had the strangest ascent in comics history. He started as ‘The First President of the Doc Stalwart Fan Club” in 1970 - at ten years old. He became a regular contributor to the letters’ column (starting with a letter published in issue #100), with a missive appearing in every column from that point forward. As of issue 150, he got a special spotlight in “Note from the Fan Club President”, that was set aside from the other letters each month. 

Scooter eventually became a creative voice as well. He sent in a story idea that served as the foundation for the “Return to the Future” storyline (Mighty Doc Stalwart #127-130), and at fifteen, started contributing story outlines (paid $3 per outline), that were adapted into backup features, almost always featuring his favorite characters, the Stalwart Legion of the 28^th Century.

So, it was somewhat appropriate that as of Mighty Doc Stalwart #251, at age 24, he was hired full time as the editor-in-chief of New Stalwart Press; he was the one who was tasked with hiring the replacements for Byron John, the brothers Mike and Theo Pretzlaff, who took over the book going forward.

He had big ideas. He launched the Spectacular Stalwart Super Society. He started negotiating television and toy rights for the characters. He started to look at ways to merchandise Doc and his world, building the brand beyond its humble comic book origins.

But one of the biggest and most outlandish of his ideas was unveiled at the New Years’ Comic Con ’84, two weeks into his tenure as editor-in-chief. He organized the first ever ‘Independent Comics Company Summit’, where dozens of small publishers and independent creators met together in Ballroom B of the Grand Castle Hotel to share an idea he had.

The “Big Two” were doing huge crossover events, bringing together their major characters to battle a huge cosmic threat on a grand scale. He wanted to do something similar. He knew that New Stalwart Press, though a successful company, was nowhere near the size and scale of the Big Two, and wouldn’t be able to do such an event independently.

However… he suggested that everyone in the room, if they wanted to work together, could pull it off. His pitch was simple: The Mighty Doc Stalwart Annual #2 would be a collaborative story where dozens of creators, representing dozens of smaller companies, would come together to tell a story with each of their signature characters joining together against a huge cosmic threat. They would all continue to hold the copyrights to their own characters, granting one-time rights to publish them here.

Over the next twenty-four hours, what might be the greatest comic book jam session of all time took place, as dozens of creators worked together to build a story and crank out 64 pages. This was released to much fanfare; each creator received 100 ‘limited edition’ copies to sign and sell at conventions, and the book was released through newsstand distribution. Each creator kept a few original pages, and these were distributed in a lottery system. All proceeds were donated, and many of the creators who contributed suggested that this was a ‘launch point’ for their independent comic companies.

But, I mean, I don’t have to tell you all about this. You were there, after all.   

And the Kickstarter will reveal how it all went down.    

Hello City - Options

In shifting the game (a bit) from focused on my stories to focusing on stories that players could tell, I've been thinking that I'd like to publish a series of adventures (crosses fingers that I FINALLY get this right... it's been my big bugaboo in expanding games in the past - so I need a plan for it to work this time). I think that the adventures will be set in a 'new' comic series from Stalwart Press. The idea is that after Doc Stawlart #250, New Stalwart Press launched a new comic series, "the New Stalwart Adventures", that followed 'new heroes' on 'new adventures' (the PC heroes, in the new adventures I publish). 

While these stories are not limited to one location, I need a default city for the game to build from. I have two cities so far: Echo City (which I detailed pretty thoroughly in Sentinels of Echo City - I mean, it's in the name), and Midvale (which I detailed more briefly in Stalwart Age and then ported over to the World of Stalwart Vol. 1 with some edits and clarifications). I see my options as:

1. Build on Midvale. It's got a foundation in place, and it wouldn't be hard to add some things to it. This is the cleanest option; it's a smaller city with fewer moving parts. It's a great starter location for heroes (that's why it's in the book). However, this is also its biggest limitation; there's only so much to do here, and the heroes are likely to 'grow out' of the city in short order. There is not a lot of intrigue here; the mayor goes to the July 4th Parade and eats too many hotdogs, and his blood pressure is a bit too high. That's about it for local drama.

2. Continue to build Echo City. This is the most well fleshed out of my three cities so far, and there are lots of things I really like about it. There are many places where this setting could grow. However, what I have could also get cleaned up, revised, and moved into the World of Stalwart Volume II... that's NOT a bad idea... also, in terms of tone, this is more Gotham City and less Metropolis. In fact, if I make this the focus on World of Stalwart Volume 2, that gives me more nitty-gritty to build.

3. Design a new city. This was where I started yesterday morning. The drawing above is for a city I was calling Brimsbay, in the Pacific Northwest. I like this drawing, but I can move it anywhere (I'll be finishing and coloring it. obviously... but it's the line art). This gives me a blank canvas to work from. I could also do this with a city I have only minimally mentioned (San Helios or Gap City, for instance). 

4. Design Meridian. Honestly, as I've been writing this post, I've convinced myself this is probably what I should do. It has the most stuff happening, I've already made this the 'most important' city in the game world, and I know that in the future, it's key to other events (if you have read Sentinels of Echo City, you know that it's doomed - at least in one timeline. I have already decided that Sentinels of Echo City takes place in an alternate earth... because I've already diverged from some events there, so it's now a different world. I don't think the Powers Family ever shows up in this reality, for instance). It's been the historic 'center' of superhuman activity, but it's also largely without heroes right now; Doc is off at the North Pole, the Victory Legion has broken up, and the villains haven't gone anywhere. It's a great place to set new adventures, and it's large enough to encompass a lot of things happening. Plus, I could make the arrival of the Messari (and another competing alien race) a central part of the new setting (and the new adventures that take place there)...

The idea is that this city gets its own 'sourcebook' (maybe 16 pages? maybe 24? I don't want to go much larger than that... the idea is that it's the foundation I can build upon as we go)... then the new adventures ("The New Stalwart Adventures") would be set here. The covers would feature the villains doing their villainy, with heroes either not on the cover at all, or at the edges in silhouette (to suggest that these are the PCs of the game). This gives me at least 16 'issues' I could produce before being 'caught up' to the current Doc continuity. That gives me a lot of room to grow.

By the way... I've realized that stealing what Marvel is doing with the MCU and the multiverse saga is probably the best move of all... all of my games and superhero game worlds (including the old Resolute RPG) happen in divergent realities from the main one (Stalwart Earth). So, I now have liberty to cross-pollinate my own work over 20+ years and have it all be interconnected in some grand way. The best thing about Spiderman: No Way Home was that it made all of the Spiderman movies 'canon' (and it will do that with X-Men next, which is a brilliant move). It's a way to honor the messy history of comics and make all of that work, and all of those stories, still matter. 

Worldbuilding Part 11: Lessons from History

I’m shocked (shocked, I say) that I had two more of these entries come to me, but here we are. Today, we’re diving into some real-world history. Okay, we’ll be wading into the shallows (shal-al-al-al-ows) of real-world history. But it’s still something. 

A warning, though: writers have gotten into trouble by relying too much on history for their setting material, so I want to start with this... check yourself before you wreck yourself. Actual history can provide many opportunities for ideas to help with worldbuilding, but you want to make sure to hew as far away from racist tropes or cultural appropriation as you can.

For example, I’ve long been fascinated by the idea that the Chinese at one point had the greatest armada in the world, and then sunk it to the bottom of the ocean. That’s just boss level. So, I borrowed that idea for what the Gallan did with their own starships. The Gallan are not the historical Chinese. The motivations for the event were different. I’m not trying in any way to cast their culture in this role. I just took the historical event and ran with it.

For the Mirdan Rimewatchers, it’s been a little trickier. I work with Native American students, and I have more personal knowledge of Indigenous cultures and some of the atrocities they have experienced just based on where I live and who I’ve met, so that has crept into my setting. The Mirdan Rimewatchers have been subjected to an aggressive colonizer from elsewhere. They have sacred creatures and a sacred river. They consider the lands being infringed upon theirs by birthright. These are historical patterns. I am comfortable including them in the game. When it comes to the specific responses of the Mirdan Rimewatchers, or specific events in which they are involved, I’m going to use my imagination and my knowledge of characters rather than specific historical events to explore this further. I think if I was to include the idea of schools where Mirdan were forced to abandon their culture, I’m wading into very dangerous waters. If I gave them specific dances or religious observations that are based on real-world belief systems, I’m treading into unintended racism by distilling a genuine, complex culture to a few rough brush strokes.

I read an article the other day that said, in effect, we’ve had enough cis white men creating stories in sci-fi worlds, and we should stop supporting them and support other voices. As a cis white man, I guess I saw that as a little hurtful, but also completely understandable. People who look and sound like me have shaped the collective narrative for a predominant part of history, and maybe we should be talking less and listening more. However, as an individual I am a creative person who wants to make stuff. I can be responsible in that process so at least I can follow the medical practice of ‘do no harm’. Maybe I’m not in a position to really push the collective narrative forward, but that doesn’t mean I will be pushing it backwards by default - and the first step of that comes with actively building awareness of what I’m putting in my setting, and where I got it from.

Worldbuilding Part 9: Thin Slices and Snapshots

We use the term 'thin slice’ at the middle school where I teach, and it’s a term I just learned this year, but I kind of like it. The idea is that you get a single sample of student work, and you use this to make some large-scale holistic evaluations. You understand when you do it that this is an incomplete profile of what’s going on with this student. In my class, I present this as a snapshot. I explain to students that this writing today is going to be a selfie; it is a picture of where you are right now, today, at this moment, but it’s not the whole thing. I won’t know everything there is to know about you as a student from this, but I’ll get at least an idea. I’ll be able to get a good initial sense of who you are as a writer from this sample.

When moving into the more intricate parts of setting construction, my temptation was always to work in layers. I wanted to figure out what was happening at the national level. Then I would work out the local level, and how this is impacted. Then, I’d look at the micro level; how does a family live within this? I suppose I was inspired by (or maybe overwhelmed by) the World of Greyhawk setting books, and the details therein on what different nations were producing as resources, and who they traded with, and how that sort of socio-economic system worked. Now, it might have been a carefully-crafted interconnection of balanced concepts, or (more likely), Gary made a list of things that societies might have of value, and sort of randomly assigned these to different nations (hmmm…. Four countries already trade silver. I guess these guys get copper. Sorry, Pomarj). Regardless, it made an impression on me; your setting must have this huge level of interconnectivity to really be ‘alive’.

And it does, but not necessarily in that way. I have learned instead to do the deep dive in a small area. That’s what I’m doing with the core rules for Shards. I don’t know (yet) how the macro economy works in terms of trade between hundreds of worlds. However, I am really, really starting to understand how the guilds on the moons around Banquo II interact, how resources are gathered and distributed, and how important contracts and writs and land rights are. I can see how the mandates of the guilds and off-worlders really rub locals the wrong way, and lead to all sorts of land skirmishes between the more tribal native species who have dwelt there for generations and those who showed up one day with skim miners and started tapping gas wells a hundred kilometers below the surface. I can see what life is like for a day laborer on Banquo’s Maw (it kind of sucks by the way). However, the other benefit in this is that I’m working out a form of template that I can apply to other worlds and other locales. Once I really understand how this one micro system works, I will be able to generate a sort of grid to plug information into. I will then be able to move to the next planet and fill in the details. Once I know how the various forces interacting in one of these micro systems work, I can jump to the next planet over and start the process over again. I don’t have to figure out how all that other planet’s resources interact with everything else; I only need to tie a few threads back to my first snapshot. When I detail the planet called Prospero (if that’s what it’s called), I only need figure out how it links to Banquo II.  

It also helps me to make very concrete decisions. I know that bounty hunters like Gat Parmetheon here often do the dirty work of taking out tribal leaders who openly resist guild force, or who a family might hire to take out their own nephew who won’t fall in line, a nephew who keeps making noise about wanting to break off and form his own guild. There are some jobs you don’t want your own crews doing. He’s not generic bounty hunter doing generic jobs; there are very specific types of things one calls a bounty hunter like him for.

Oh, and a side note, I found for myself that I wanted there to be consistency of naming planets and moons. I wanted it to be easy to remember, and evocative. I like that the planets of our solar system are named after Roman gods. It gives the whole thing a nice uniformity. So, I’ve picked Shakespeare character names. Each planet is a Shakespeare character name (a lot of them end in ‘o’ by the way), and then the moons around that planet are a facet of that character (hence the planet Macbeth might have moons named Macbeth’s Eye or Macbeth’s Fist). I find having this consistency creates an automatic sense of uniformity to the setting. If you’ve got the city Ko next to the city of Vilizainatkhwona, you’ve got some consistency problems.

Worldbuilding Part 8: It's All About The Characters

Stories are about people. They may look like mice, or ants, or tree-powered aliens, but at heart they are still people. People, and what people do or think or experience or overcome, has to be at the heart of the setting. Let me start by rolling out a caveat: there is a fundamental difference (to me at least) between developing a setting for my own creative life and one for others to play in. I've spent the last two years trying to thread the needle on this, with what feels like increasing success.

The biggest reason to adventure in the settings of Star Wars or Lord of the Rings or the MCU is that the characters there are ones you know and love so much. That is also their biggest drawback as RPG settings. The best stories in those worlds have already been told. Your character is never going to be as heroic as Captain America or as smart at Tony Stark. Your hero is cool and all, but I mean Frodo carried the One Ring into the heart of Mordor, so... and Luke Skywalker blew up the first Death Star with his targetting computer shut off, and that was before he basically single-handedly overthrew the Empire. But, I mean, your character is doing cool things too, I guess.

It's the double-edged sword of the Forgotten Realms. People who love the setting seem to love it because of Elminster and Drizzt. But, your wizard is never going to be Elmnister, and your ranger is never going to be Drizzt. 

For Stalwart Age, I tried to solve this by having my signature character Doc in the background. and not really all that powerful in the grand scheme. He's old, and semi-retired, and off in other realms a lot of the time. He's not Superman who is there to solve everything before you even realized there is a problem, and oh by the way I made you an omelette in the extra .24 seconds I had after saving the world and foiling the bombing of Metropolis. 

For Shards, my own characters are not very cool. They're struggling level 2 or 3 guys just scraping by. They might run into your characters, but they are just as likely to run from your characters. My characters are not saving the galaxy this week; they're just trying to get by.

All of that out of the way, your setting will need to have a few 'major players' in place. These are the handful of characters, at least out of the gate, who are going to make decisions that have a trickle-down effect on the rest of the setting. Back to my foundation in acting... characters have three levels of goals: super objectives, scene objectives, and actions. A super objective is the one 'big thing' a character really wants. In Shards, Eno the Prime Director wants to slowly allow life to atrophy so that only machines remain. Nisa Montrel wants to establish the most powerful guild in the region. The messari want to find their way back to this realm. On a lower tier (where I'm playing and writing), Vex Kalar wants to restore honor to the Centurions (if it ever had that honor to begin with). Sky Stalwart wants to go home (and for him, 'home' includes traveling back in time 814 years, so that one might be a bit tricky). 

Once you know what your characters want, you can work out at least one 'scene objective'. While I've always defined this as 'what your character wants to do before you'll leave the stage', it's more loosely seen as a medium-term goal. How is this thing going to help me towards my larger purpose? Hmm. Well, Eno needs to establish his power (done) and put infrastructure in place to support the changeover. That's what he's working on. It's always 'infrastructure week' on Banquo II. Once in a while enough sentients break the terms of their contracts, and he can justify vaporizing a bunch at once, which gives him mechanical warm fuzzies. Nisa knows that she needs to start turning a profit quickly so that she can build a cushion. She also needs to secure the territories she already has and ensure that her name is established. She can't helm the biggest guild until she's at least got a stable guild. Vex needs allies first. Sky needs resources first. I can't get to my big goal unless I accomplish this smaller thing first. That's where my focus is today. Then actions are the moment-by-moment choices. Right now, this moment, do I capture that guard and interrogate him, or sneak by him, or shoot him in the back? Not sure. It depends on which one is most likely to help me towards my medium-term goal. Or, even better, is this a short-term setback I'm willing to endure because it might ultimately help me to achieve my goal? It's part of what I love about Mandalorian; he is continually accepting short-term sacrifices to his larger goal because he believes that the sacrifice today will pay dividends later. I remove my helmet today because I want to help my friends, even though I know that my long-term goal of helping to re-establish Mandalor might be harmed by it, but I guess I'll have to figure that out later.

Some of the best writing advice I've read (no idea where anymore) is to create a character, throw as many problems at them as you can, and then see how they react. Another thing good actors know: acting is not about 'acting' so much as 'reacting'. You learn as much as you can about your character, and then you just listen and respond to what's happening around you. Those who are really good at improv tend to develop strong, one-note characters quickly and then react in real time as those characters, with often humorous but fully in-character responses. My 'Karen' character wants to see the manager, and nothing is going to stop her from seeing the manager (except when Heather texts me, and then everyone has to wait while I answer this text, because HEATHER). The manager responds, but he only has ten minutes left on his break, and he REALLY wants to finish his toasted ham on rye before taking forty pallets off the truck. Like, that sandwich is everything to him. Hilarity ensues. 

In some ways, world building is about putting as many impediments on the road of your setting as possible, and seeing how the various characters respond. Let's take Nisa. Building a guild is hard work. The labor is difficult. There's a lot of competition. There's always sketchy stuff happening behind the scenes that she'd rather not be part of. Nobody really respects a female guild master who got her money from her daddy. She's pretty, which pretty people will likely tell you is a blessing and a curse, because it is hard to be taken seriously when you're pretty, and everyone is attracted to your prettiness and not to you necessarily.

But as the writer you also have to know your characters. You have to try to do the whole walk a mile in their shoes thing, because then you end up with interesting choices. Nisa is invited to a high-end guild party where several heads of families will appear. This could help her establish her name, or could weaken her standing if things go poorly. Can she find out their motivations for inviting her? Once she finds out, does she go? If she goes, what does she wear? Does she play down her prettiness and try to be taken seriously in some formal business attire, or does she try to weaponize her prettiness against her adversaries? I'm not sure. I'd be interested to see what she decides to do.

If it's obvious what a character would do, then it's not a meaningful obstacle. One of the rightful criticisms of the most recent Star Wars trilogy is that Rey has things too easy. She doesn't really have meaningful choices to make. Her destiny is set out before her like a connect-the-dots. To pile on Star Wars a bit, Episode I starts with a trade blockade... but why? What exactly does Naboo even trade? Architectural magazines? High-end fashion? Silver starship paint? Why is it so important? I literally have no idea.

If you set things up with genuine obstacles, your NPCs will have interesting choices to make as the game goes on, and that can almost guarantee that the PCs will, too. Some of my favorite writing moments are when characters surprise me. I wrote a draft of a novel maybe ten years ago that was never finished, where the main character was a half-goblin who was just trying to get by, but he then got a cool pet who happened to be a pocket dragon. He loved the dragon. It was the best thing that ever happened to him. But then he learned that it actually belonged to a princess and had gotten lost. The last moment of the book I wrote was that he let the dragon go back to her, because it was hers first. It was the moment he changed from looking out for himself to looking out for others. I had no idea what would happen on that last page until I got there, and I straight up cried for ten minutes when he did it, because I was so surprised and proud that he made that decision. I had no idea he'd do that until he did it on the page as I was typing. That was the moment I knew that I had written a pretty clunky first novel that would probably never be published, but it was also the moment I knew what it was to be a writer. It was the first time I let the characters tell the story. 

I encourage you to do the same. I'll bet your characters will surprise you.

Worldbuilding Part 7: Breathing Room

This one is adapted from Wenninger. He posits that you don't want to create more right now than you have to; don't lock in details or specifics of your setting until you really need them in place. I tend to think of this as 'breathing room'. Leave room in your worldbuilding for new ideas to have a place to find their way in. When I teach writing, I tell students that they need to intentionally create some time and space between one draft and another. Give it a few days. Take a nap between. Eat a meal. Print out a copy and work on it in a different media. Read it out loud. Do something to see and hear it differently, but (even more important) insert some time between your initial ideas and when you start to lock things down.

I have trained my subconscious to write when I'm not writing. I have learned to go to bed and give my subconscious a task to do: 'okay, I need to figure out that Commonwealth thing'. Then I go to bed, and I don't actively think about it. I just let my subconscious do its thing in its little laboratory. 

For example, I've left my understandings of how the Commonwealth is set up pretty loose. I know that they are a police state of sorts, and that they are aggressively colonizing. But, beyond that, I didn't have much. I started noodling a drawing of a dude with a pistol and jet pack just for some spot art, but as I drew, the design started to get me thinking of the Mandalorian, Storm Troopers, and Judge Dredd, and suddenly I had a fit. My subconscious timer dinged, and revealed what it had been working on.

Out in the Pale, the Commonwealth dispatches Centurions who are independent judges, able to enforce the law. They have considerable latitude and power. So, back to yesterday - they are ripe with corruption. 

Consequently, we've got poor Lieutenant Vex Kalar, who signed up because he wanted to make a difference in the Pale, and who wants to make sure that justice is served and that people see why the ways of the Commonwealth are the best ways to live. But, he is surrounded by a bunch of jerks who wear the same uniform, but who use their badges and titles to get rich and live lives of excess. Will he be able to change his ranks from within? Will he leave the Centurions? Will he be arrested for treason when he refuses to do the wrong thing? Will he lead a rebellion? Something else entirely? 

I have no idea. I'm confident my subconscious will let me know when it figures it out.

Worldbuilding Part 6: A Superstitious, Cowardly Lot

Two things before I get rolling with this post:

1. The draft of Shards of Tomorrow is plugging along. The draft is 38 pages without illustrations, any creature stat blocks, a starter adventure, or some of the background material I still want to write. At this point, we're talking at least 48 pages for the core rules, considering I have almost 30 illustrations done. 64 is not out of the realm of possibility (but again, not chasing page counts... just taking a status check).

2. This post might come off as cynical, and I don't mean for it to. In the last few weeks, I have seen the best of my family, friends, and the various communities I belong to, as people offer support, friendship, food, rides, encouraging texts... I am in a great place right now (other than the 8" incision across my throat and radiation hanging over my head), but that doesn't change the truth of this post, and its relevance to world building.

***

Because people are stupid, petty, selfish, and superstitious. We see outliers. Kansas City Chiefs fans donated over 300k to a Buffalo Bills charity after last week's game. Outliers happen. I am living amid outliers. But the general truth holds. And this truth deeply impacts worldbuilding.

Why doesn't every starship have light-powered drives? Because it is expensive to produce them, and it's hard, and you aren't going to make enough money from one of those drives to justify the cost. Nobody is going to develop one to explore the stars, or to build faster medical transports, or to increase the response time of interplanetary militias. It's not worth it. However, we're lucky that two rich guilders have a bet going, and one of them has a million credits on the line if he can win a race against a meteor, and he thinks a light drive might be the thing that puts him over the edge. His selfish pursuit of winning a bet may lead to an upgrade in technology. We just have to cross our fingers that the other guy doesn't cancel the bet. It's our only hope. 

When I read The Good Earth for the first time maybe 15 years ago, I was rooting for the main character. I saw that he started the story in poverty, under the thumb of a petty, cruel landlord. He had it hard. But he was noble, and he was going to turn his life around. And I believed he could do it, largely because he was Chinese, and I was American, and I already knew that Americans were pretty awful in general, but maybe a Chinese man living a hundred years ago was better than the people I saw around me. Nope. By the end of the novel, he's using opium and has taken a second wife; he treats his faithful first wife like trash and takes advantage of his own workers. 

Because people are gonna people.

So every time I come up with a story element for the worldbuilding portion of the program, I follow it up with 'how did they f*** this up?' A platoon of angelic creatures from another galaxy came to bring life and hope to this cluster? Mm. Let's kill them and take their stuff. We have an armada that can unite the cluster? Let's use it to isolate planets from each other and milk the locals for every last credit. 

The trick with this is that there is very little 'true evil'. Yes, there are the Hitlers, and they are bad news. They are pathological. But there are a lot of Trumps (sorry, not sorry) who are just selfish and greedy and they look at everything as a grift, and everyone as a mark. And, as the last several years have proven, there are a lot of willing marks.

It's my fundamental objection to conspiracy theories in general. At some point, a conspiracy theory assumes that people are smart and can keep it together for long periods of time. It assumes that the guy in charge of monitoring my every activity won't get bored and start playing the snake game or see how his fantasy football team is doing instead. 

What could we do with 3 billion hours of human investment? We could probably end world hunger. Or we could make sure every veteran had a home to live in. We could re-build the water system in Flint, Michigan. Or, we could play Fornite.

Cause humans gonna human. And other species, even if they are not human, are going to respond like humans do. They might be bound by superstitions or traditions or cultural differences, but they are still going to follow the path of least resistance eventually. It's why we love dogs but do memes about cats. Dogs are noble and kind-hearted. Cats are us - we want to take a nap, have a full food bowl, and wake people up at 3 in the morning because chaos is more fun than not chaos.

This idea influences my writing as well. In the story I'm working on, Kirby finds another sentient computer system for the first time in 800 years, and one of his first thoughts is that he better be able to take this thing out if it becomes a competitor. Kirby is a good bot. He's programmed to do the right thing. But if it's him or another bot, it's not a question. He's taking that mother down.

Worldbuilding Part 5: Process Not Product

(Original Concept Art for Shards Version 2)

Like yesterday's post, this one is more of a general mandate that I have in place rather than a discrete step in the process. I will get back to actual steps soon...

When I was throwing together some ideas for a second edition of Shards just about two years ago, I did a few quick drawings to try and get into the vibe. I was at the very end of my 'all art is going to be clean black and white silhouettes' stage. I'd done some publishing in that style, which I still like a lot. It gets to some of the simple principle that I was talking about yesterday. It's more iconic by its nature. It communicates a lot in a few simple lines and shapes. It's got a lot going for it.

But it's not Shards. I mean, it's not what I think Shards should be. It's maybe a more Dune-like game, with a darker presence that hangs over the whole thing. I still think it looks like a cool game. But, I don't know if it looks like a fun game. I'd rather work on fun games, in general.

I realize that I'm mixing some of my steps here, but the creative process isn't linear. Again, unlike what I've been teaching for a few decades (but no longer do, thank goodness), creative people don't complete an outline, then a rough draft, then a revised draft, then a final draft. They write a chapter in a few hours that is done and publication-ready in the first draft. Then they take notes for a second chapter. Then they wait ten years. Then they realize that the first chapter they wrote (which they still don't need to edit at all, because it was perfect) is actually chapter three, and those notes for chapter two were for a different book altogether, but that's okay, because now I have two books to work on! And chapter one is not actually chapter one. It's half of a short story. The other half just came to me, and once I write it, it will be done.

That said, I understand that the point is to get stuff done. I mean, at some point, you've got to actually finish things. Back to theater - I LOVE that opening night is on the schedule. On that day, this thing will be almost done. A lot of it will be locked down. I won't be able to pull the whole set apart and re-build it over the weekend. We're still going to tinker with character moments and play with pacing over the course of the run, and I might swap out your hat in Act 2 for the final two performances because the color isn't exactly right, but we're close to the end. And, when the curtain falls on the final production, it's a finished product that I can no longer return to. It's incredibly helpful to have that outside force in place.   

But, throughout, I'm focused on improving the thing rather than finishing the thing. I have learned to trust that if I do a good job today when staging the fight between these two characters, and we give this scene the time and attention it needs TODAY, that will pay a dividend tomorrow because it will be a strong moment we can build upon. If I do a good job today crafting this spot art or this character design or this stat block, it's going to be a snazzy piece of the final thing, whenever that thing gets done.

That drawing at the top is two years old, but I am glad I hung on to it. I was able to use it right here! This is probably what it was meant for the whole time. 

Worldbuilding Part 4: the Simple Principle

This isn't necessarily a step in the process so much as a larger mandate that guides all work going forward. When it comes to history, or names, or backstory, or interplanetry socioeconomic policy, keep it simple. There are a few reasons for this: 1) Simple is catchy and memorable. You can remember Darth Vader. You're going to struggle with Lord Vasothos Darakanovochinovin, Dark Knight Templar of the Mixovax and Keeper of the Crystal Blade of Brum Katarathan. Sure, he sounds kind of cool, but it's just too much. 2) Simple is ICONIC. Simple comes across as somehow larger and more enduring. Lord Vasothos is going to be defeated and replaced by another warlord at some point. Darth Vader is forever. 3) It forces you to distill things to their essence. You get closer to truth more quickly.

As a writer, this goes at odds with what I (sorry!) have been teaching students for two decades. It took me until about three years ago to finally realize the damage I was doing in giving students minimum word count requirements or page requirements. Yes, you need to write enough to answer the question or address the prompt. But, a word count is an artificial way to encourage students to write enough. Even worse, it encourages students to write filler. If I just jam more words in there, it's better. 250 words is better than 100 words. That's just math.

But writing and storytelling and game design are not math (okay, that last one totally is, but not in this way).   

As a writer, I have fallen into that trap. I want to write a 75,000-word novel, so if I write 1,000 words today, I am closer to that goal. If I only write 500 words (even if those 500 words are much, much better) I am further from my goal. As a game designer, it is the almighty page count. Can I stretch this to 64 pages? If I add a few more monsters and a few more spells, can I get to 80? 80 would be sweet.

As a cartoonist, I want to publish a graphic novel that is 300 pages. So, I have to rush through today's page because I'm not getting any younger, and this son-of-a-behemoth is not going to write and draw itself.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrongwrongwrong. Any time I'm looking to stretch or push my word count or get through a page, I'm producing lower-quality work. 

I've lingered on this because this 'must make more' philosophy directly undermines the 'simple principle'. Simple is short. It's direct. It says only what it needs to say, and no more. So, if you have a running page or word count in your head, the temptation to add a few more details that aren't really important or to give the character an extra flourish to their name is going to be strong, because it gets you further along the road to 'done'.

On the micro level, the simple principle forces me to condense things. How can I get these two parts of the character condensed into one trait? How can I communicate all of this about his backstory in one sentence? How can I demonstrate the complex history between these two characters in a single exchange? 

Working on comic strips for a few years helped me to refine this. With a comic strip, you only have a small space to work in, and you are always trying to jam as much fun stuff into that small space as you can. It's an entirely different approach. 

Avoiding spoilers here, but it was probably my favorite thing about Book of Boba Fett Episode 5 today. There was a silent exchange between three characters with helmets on, and it lingered for about 3 seconds. And in that three seconds I started giggling and was like 'oh my God it's ON'. I knew what every character wanted, and what they were willing to do, and how bad it was going to get, based on the exact right choice for a moment of silence between the characters. It was brilliant. And it was simple.

Worldbuilding Part 3: What This Is Not

It is important to know what your world is, and what it's about. However, it is also important to know what the world is not. This is where worldbuilding overlaps heavily with game design, and sets the parameters for the game that will follow (or, in my case, must derive itself from the parameters that the game has already put in place). The D20 engine, as I have been interpreting and refining it, is a pretty fluid, open, and malleable thing. I have worked to put in some guard rails so it doesn't play as hand wavey, but I also intentionally leave a lot of blurry edges. I remember that decades ago, I wanted to create a game that could be everything to everyone; it would be such a robust system that you could play any genre. I suppose that I wanted to make GURPs. But, I've never played GURPs. My guess is, because it tries to do everything well, it doesn't nail anything perfectly. Okay, I cannot speak to GURPs; I can only say that I don't think I could do it.

My game defies a simple clear explanation is a really bohemian response, but it's also bad design. As I've grown, I've realized that limits are a vital part of the creative process. You've got to know where the boundary lines are, or you're always getting the chocolate in someone else's peanut butter, but not in the good way. So, genres Shards could be:

Science Fiction. This is Traveller. This is measuring fuel, and tracking ammunition, and working out the physics of how a planet's gravity may impact a missile's trajectory, and how much power is actually needed to drive this starship, and how much refrigeration is needed for the consummables of a crew of 325 for a mission of seven months, and bleh. No. Thank. You. Furthermore, the rules don't support this. There is not enough gradation in the basic system to allow for this level of scientific precision.

Science Fantasy. This is what I want to call it. Its heart is rooted in a fantasy game, after all. It's going to have dragons in it. However, science fantasy is still firmly fantasy (mine is not) and is also rooting itself in scientific concepts (mine, also, is not). This is a bit hard for me; I know that the messari had colonized a moon of Banquo's Tooth, and that moon was destroyed, and that its fragemtns have been pulled into the Rings of Banquo. I know that Saturn's rings are full of debris and meteors and rocks, so this scientifically aligns with what is really out there. But, I also know that Banquo's Rings are held together with void energy, creating something of an evil atmosphere, and that many of the ancient tombs of the messari exist within, floating amid the debris field, waiting to be explored. That's fantasy, but it leaps away from the science rather than leaning into it. It doesn't use science to support the fantasy; it says 'heck science to heck, we're going for the crazy'.  

Space Opera. I have resisted this term just because it is linked to Star Wars. But, it's also linked to Guardians of the Galaxy, so I have to accept that this is where my game falls. This is why Midichlorians were so universally reviled; we don't need to know about blood tests and lab results; we want you throwing stuff with your brain and hitting things with your laser sword.

Planetary Romance. This is a genre within space opera, and it shares many of the tropes. While the core rules are going to hew towards this (the initial focus is on the planet Banquo and its moons), the game will be expanding outward. It's going to have rules for star travel and space combat. Space is a big part of it.

Okay, so now I know that I'm writing a fantasy-inspired space opera. This tells me what the game is, but also gives me clear parameters. When I start asking you to tabulate how many fuel crystals are needed to power a transport weighing 132.5 tons, allowing it to travel 1.275 light years, you'll know I've forgotten where I came from. 

Worldbuilding Part 2: Pick Your Primary Conflict

Conflict is the heart of any story, and it as the heart of every fictional world/universe. I think the more conflict the better, but at this step I want to keep it pretty open and general. Back to Wenninger - you don't solve something until you have to. You don't have to know the entire history and backstory of the conlict between the various groups, you just have to know the basics. To whit:

Star Wars: An evil empire holds control over most of the galaxy, and rebellious freedom fighters are rising up to challenge their rule. Got it.

Lord of the Rings: The dark lord of old is returning, and several peoples must make amends to work together after a long period of antipathy. 

Indiana Jones: A plucky adventurerer seeks to protect ancient artifacts from those who would use them towards evil purposes.

So, basically: who are the 'good guys', and who are the 'bad guys'? 

However, I don't love this for gaming because (spoiler alert), the PCs often resist being the good guys. I mean, yeah, maybe I'll be a rebel and join the resistance against the empire... or.... there is probably coin to be made in this situation. In effect, there has to be some kind of viable third option. That's what I'm trying to do here. Furthermore, for each I want there to be a 'hook' or a 'yeah but' or something that makes this side of the conflict a little different or gives it some flavor. 

Moving to Shards, the primary conflict is between the Terran Commonwealth (re-named for copyright clarity purposes) and the messari. I like actually going with Terran Commonwealth as a name, because it implies that they are nice and want to work together. Which is what they think about themselves. I think of them a lot like British Imperialists - we are going to conquer everything, because we are really, really good at being in charge. This, of course, despite their history of literally killing their own goddess and tearing the fabric of creation. But, to their credit, it is not as bad as if some other species had killed THEIR god and torn the fabric of creation. It would be much worse then. They are lawful neutral with big starships and a lot of confidence, despite their terrible track record. In this game, humans are generally bad guys, too.

The messari are not redeemable. They are not able to be fixed or brought to the light or any of that jazz. I see them as primarily demons and undead creatures, so just all bad. Unlike in Lord of the Rings, I don't think there are any living creatures that are willing to serve them. In fact, this becomes their hook. They feed on fear. I have a little note-machine in the back of my head that kicks in here - fear must be an important game mechanic - and then go back to worldbuilding. More on them in a later post. The messari are chaotic evil.

In the middle are the guilders. These are business people. I know that games have presented corporations as monolithic entities that control everything, but my own experience with corporations is that once they get big enough, the knives come out and things fall apart. Yeah, they work together for some mutual benefit (see: tax law) but then try to rip each other apart when the opportunity arises: and the opportunity often arises. They lack military discipline (unlike the Commonwealth - rule everything) or a single shared purpose (unlike the Messari - kill everything). I like it that the Commonwealth and messari don't dislike each other by default - but the Commonwealth will have nothing to rule if everyone is dead (so that's a problem), and killing the messari gives them a 'noble purpose' (which helps them write poetry about their divine mandate). Guilders just pursue the almighty dollar, which the Commonwealth has more of right now. But, if the messari ever decide that money would work towards their purposes, then some guilders might be willing to chat about it... guilders are neutral, but tend towards chaotic.

This doesn't mean that these things HAVE to frame your game. The Mandalorian works, in large part, because this conflict is in the background; he is not actively seeking to fight against the remains of the Empire, or to join the emerging New Republic. He's just trying to stay off everyone's radar and make some cash. That works only because the primary conflict is so well established at this point, we can tell smaller stories inside of it. 

I want to leave lots of room for these smaller conflicts to play out (since that is where the games are going to take part), but these give me enough hook points to build other things on.   

Worldbuilding Post 1: Setting A Foundation

I remember being ENAMORED of Ray Wenninger's series of posts in Dragon Magazine on campaign building. I thought that they were mind-blowing at the time, and as I review some of them now, I still see things where I go "oh yeah!". I loved seeing how another DM thought through the process of putting his campaign together. I liked the intentionality of it all.

I routinely tell my students that I don't want them to just know what they are doing, but I want them to understand WHY they are doing what they are doing. Yes, you are writing an essay analyzing this text. But WHY? Why is this valuable? Why is this a good way to attack this task? Why and how does this help you build your capacity to think and understand? Most of my students stare off into space and then follow up with, 'but how LONG does it have to be'?, but a few get it. They nod their heads as I watch wheels turning in the back there, processing.

So, I thought I'd write a few posts (maybe more if this gets organized in some way), about how my wheels turn. I expect this will go like all of my creative processes go - a bit messy and seemingly dicsonnected, but eventually I start to tease out the threads that pull the whole thing together. Over time, I'm getting better at setting thicker and more robust threads in place earlier, knowing that I'm going to be teasing the heck out of those buggers later on. 

Onward 

ONE: It starts with a vision.

A lot of what I do comes from theater (more on that another post). As a director, if I'm going to stage a show, I need a picture in my head: usually more than one. I need to see the climax, and I want a few touch points along the way. I want the visual moment of when that conflict reaches its peak, and the moments that helped us get there: what's the lighting like? Who's standing where? What angles and shadows and colors are here? Once I have that, I know what I'm building to. I can sort everything into two piles: 'this can help me get to that moment' (maybe keep) or 'this moves me away from that moment' (ditch it). 

For Shards of Tomorrow: Second Edition, that is the first ten minutes or so of the first Guardians of the Galaxy movie. James Gunn tells out straight out of the gate, "this is Indiana Jones in space". Okay. I can get behind that. Space guy goes into ancient vault, gets by some traps, recovers a mystic artifact, then has a quick gunfight before he jumps into his starship Dukes of Hazzard style, and then barely keeps it together before blasting off into the cosmos.

Having this vision in place gives me all the power I need to make every decision going forward. Can I bend THIS new idea in some way to fit into THAT image? Can these two coexist, or (even better) synergize and inform each other? If I can find some threads to connect them, the idea goes into the brainstorming pile. If not, it is set aside for a different project on another day.