Some of the bits of game design that have long bugged me involve modern assumptions underlying game activities. Two that have long rubbed me wrong involve religion and buying gear. There are some quite modern assumptions underpinning how games have most often approached these, and I’m gonna boot those assumptions out of my systems.
Let’s examine religion, first. The cleric of D&D, the first example of the appearance of religiosity in RPGs, is quite obviously based on crusading knight orders–the Templars and Hospitalers and such. This binds the class to a medieval Catholic type of system, with clerics part of orders of individual deities. It involves the notion of proselytization as being part of all religion. It suggests, strongly, that faith is the important part of religious practice.
I have an issue with those thoughts. In so many pagan religious practices, none of those hold sway. Temples are often for entire pantheons to be revered. The praxis of religion is the most important part–adherents don’t even have to believe in the existence of any deities, just do for the necessary observances. And proselytization isn’t an obligation, nor usually even a thing; other peoples are allowed to have and practice their own rites and rituals as normal practice.
So, I won’t be having any of that nonsense in my systems. Temples are going to be for pantheons, in general, or at least groups of deities from the pantheon. Shrines dedicated to individual deities abound, though even those may have statuary and such for other deities. While many people will have an affinity for one or two deities, they’ll also respect the rest of the pantheon. They may even celebrate some observances of foreign pantheons when in strange lands.
Next, we can look at the acquisition of gear. What I see in all of the systems I’ve cared to look at or use, there are apparently general stores that carry everything–and have enough stock to equip entire kingdoms–in one small village. OK, a bit of hyperbole, though the general point stands. There are systems that limit how many items of a given kind are available based on community size, and I like those, as I think they’re a good start.
What I’m working on is formalizing some concepts I’ve played with over the years that seem to match more of what a generally medieval economy would support. Sure, we can have a general merchant that carries goods commonly needed in the community (note: adventuring gear is likely not commonly needed). Most stuff has to be bought from an artisan who makes the stuff. Uncommonly-needed equipment can be commissioned and will require passage of game time before the PC can take possession. Artisans to do the work may reside only in towns and cities, meaning the PC has to travel to commission the work and then to claim it (and that means off-screen activity).
This leads into handling all the loot stolen from the tombs by the PCs, too. Nobody in any general store nor any village jeweler is going to have enough funds lying around to buy the treasures from the PCs. The party will have to find agents who have contacts elsewhere and are willing to act as an intermediary to cart all that treasure to distant places and sell on the PCs’ behalf. So, the friendly general merchant in the village may know a guy in the county town who has contacts in a couple of cities who can auction off the goods to wealthy buyers. All of the steps along the way require a cut of the proceeds, of course, and what money the PCs end up with will arrive at a future date and be less than the value of the treasure as appraised. It’s a good way to keep funds tight for the PCs in the immediate present and keep funds from accumulating quickly, in addition to helping with simulation of a working world.
There’s also the training nonsense often encountered. Training time requirements are far too lax, with PCs able to rise from barely competent to reknowned expert in a quite short time, as measured in the setting. Even worse is the notion from more modern systems that a PC can “dip” into a class for a level and then move on to something else in short order. Lawdy!
One of the conceits of D&D, as mentioned by Gygax, is that PCs are trained prior to beginning play. 1st-lvl fighters, for example, are called “veterans”. MUs have gone through apprenticeships. No PC just drops his hoe and leaves his parents’ farm and the next day is a 1st-lvl PC. They’ve spent time developing skills. This needs to be reflected in character development rules. There are no community colleges on the other side of the village where one can spend a term to gain all that is desired. Indeed, as the AD&D system calls for, a PC must find a trainer.
Now, Gygax then calls for a relatively short period of training, and further even allows for self-training–as if a PC already knows everything they’d learn from a teacher. And that’s for a PC that has already finished an apprenticeship. In doing so, I think he’s subverting the whole training requirement system. Arneson had a training system that involved months of time training for new abilities and I think that’s a better approach. To change class entirely, I reckon an apprenticeship is going to take at least a year, more likely longer.
As can be expected, my bespoke systems are going to have stiffer training regimens. The challenge, as with most things, is to keep character development interesting at every step, and training time is only a part of that. All the parts working together will have to be interesting.