I've noticed a rising level of debate over this particular aspect of campaign creation, so I figured I'd make a thread. There are a couple of camps (I'm look at Raelifin ;)) who oppose the implementation of archetypical races into their setting, the most noticable being Tolkienoid elves. The rationale behind this is that the content of a setting would be better served by envisioning wholly unique and entirely different races into the setting.
If this is not how the pro-Uniqueness camp feels, you're free to correct me.
However, the majority of worldbuilders, for better or worse, do not have the time, ability, or willingness to divorce their setting from the archetypical races found in the player's handbook.
And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that, either
Archetypical content, such as the Tolkienoid elves of the PHB, find their way into D&D setting because, for some people, elves, dwarves, halflings, and gnomes is what they think of when they envision a D&D setting. Including elves and dwarves in a setting needs a rationale, but so does the inclusion of *any other race in any other setting*. Critisizing just settings that use archetypical content on that matter is unfair.
Archetypes are shortcuts, for authors, worldbuilders, and DMs. For authors, it can be represented in stock characters, one-dimensional personas that serve the purpose of highlighting the protagonist's (or antagonist's) motives and characterization. For worldbuilders, playing off the fantasy archetypes is a way of getting part of the work done for you-- not everyone has hours and hours to envision a sixteen-eyed anthropomorphic fusion between a cow and a tubeworm, and using "elves" in place of said cowurms does NOT instantly lower the quality of the setting. For DMs, archetypes provide the most benefit-- by presenting fantasy stereotypes, his players can easily adapt and understand what exactly he means. "Oh, right, an elf." The more radical the changes, the more specialized and experienced the group might need to be.
In summary, I do not feel like there is a conclusive answer, and I don't feel that one method is of greater value than another-- I personally use the Archetypical approach in most of my work, but I like other settings that use the "Unique" approach.
Thoughts?
*dons fire protective gear*
The biggest problem with the archetypal races is just that they often become a crutch for lazy or unimaginative players to get "instant personality" rather than actually think through their characters, their place in the world, their goals, needs, desires, and the likelihood of people actually reading through to the end of this run-on sentence.
The biggest problem with brand-spanking-new unique classes is the lack of any archetypes for players to get hold of. For the world designer, everything is clear because she's put a ton of thought into her creation and knows it inside and out. Then the players are given a two paragraph summary and told to start making characters. Where the hell are they supposed to start? Archetypes at least tie the setting into shared culture so they are starting from at least some common basis.
Quote from: snakefing*dons fire protective gear*
The biggest problem with the archetypal races is just that they often become a crutch for lazy or unimaginative players to get "instant personality" rather than actually think through their characters, their place in the world, their goals, needs, desires, and the likelihood of people actually reading through to the end of this run-on sentence.
The problem is, many people assume that the second a setting has archetypical races is that the creator of the setting was doing lazy thinking, and that's just simply not true. Look at the Jade Stage - I doubt anyone is going to accuse LC of lazy thinking. It bothers me when people see a setting, see elves, and then decide not to read it.
Being conformist for conformity's sake is like being different for difference's sake. Both are among the writer's sins.
I'll say that another way:
The writer who sticks standard, vanilla races into a setting "just because" and the writer who includes the most radical, outlandish races possible "just because" share this thing in common: neither one of them is living up to their potential.
This is my guiding star: wherever you get your ideas, you MUST support them. Standard races can be wonderfully vibrant when the writer supports them by integrating them into a setting and explaining why they are the way they are. Entirely new races can likewise be well-grounded in the setting, rather than the writer simply saying, "Here, this is new and special and shiny!" and leaving things at that.
I see three different approaches to races in settings. I've used all three in the Jade Stage, so I will use my own work as examples, in order to make it absolutely clear that I support all of these techniques, and condemn none. Again, the method of generating the material matters not at all, as long as the writer commits to the material fully.
Method one: standard import. Here, the writer uses "stock material" in what is more or less its standard, stereotypical form. A good example in the Jade Stage is my goblins, because they are more or less how a reader might expect standard goblins to be: they're tribal, territorial, resourceful, and found just about everywhere-- the "rats" of the campaign world. What I've done to anchor them to the world, make them feel rooted in rather than just tacked on, is provide them with a culture. They have a history all their own, and it affords them a certain amount of pride. They have their own religion. They have a wanderlust and an affinity for the ocean that distinguishes them-- it's the same old flavor, but with a twist of lemon.
Method two: varied import. Here, the writer takes stock material and deliberately twists it to distance it from its source. The Jade Stage example is my elves. They have some of the basic features you'd expect of elves: long lifespans, same general physical build, same expectations of pride and hauteur. Then there's the part about the green blood, the sociopathy, the caste system, the piracy, the slavery, the (depending on region) cannibalism-- these are not the same elves an average reader might expect, unless the reader's already familiar with my take on them. Stand Galadriel and Elrond next to some elves from dojh-oln-beh, and you may have a hard time thinking of them as the same species, despite the fact that we happen to use that same five-letter word to label them. They are still supported and rooted in the setting by history and culture, but here I have taken a deliberate effort to thwart readers' expectations, and I think that effort has been successful.
Method three: generating new material. Here, the writer does not draw upon existing races, but generates entirely new material. The Jade Stage example: boru. They bear certain similarities to classical fantasy examples (what doesn't?), but the idea is one that is generated from raw materials, not imitated from an existing archetype. Are they derivative? Of course. I did not invent the idea of nomads, or of semi-giants, or of beings that live in harmony with nature, or of matriarchal societies. But I'm taking old building blocks and constructing a new idea with them, and the result is a race that's grounded and supported in the setting, and has a reason to be there. There's a difference between doing that, and just throwing in things at random without making an effort to make them fit.
So, multiple ways to go about this, and I'm fine with all of them, and I've used all of them. It's like lunch. I can pack a peanut butter sandwich, or a tuna sandwich, or a ham and cheese. Today, I picked tuna salad, but that doesn't mean that other types of sandwiches are bad-- they're just not what I picked on this occasion. And some people don't like tuna sandwiches, and that's fine. Just like some people don't like the Jade Stage, and I'm okay with that, too. Not everything is for everyone.
So I won't say that a tuna sandwich is better than a ham and cheese: they're just two different ways to make lunch. What I will say, over and over again and as loud as I have to, is that any sandwich that you make with care, using quality ingredients, will be more nutritious and more satisfying than any sandwich that you throw together haphazardly using low-quality ingredients and stale bread.
Of course, races aren't the only things that can be archetypal. Character classes are also often archetypal.
There's the stereotypical stick-up-his-butt paladin, sneaky back-stabbing rogue, wild but honour-bound barbarian, and many others. These archetypes, like racial archetypes can be honoured by a thoughtful, straight-up implementation. Or the world builder may tweak, push, pull, and twist them into new shapes. Or come up with whole new ideas (usually some kind of mix and match based on legend, myth, history, or literature).
One can say many of the same things. A lazy implementation that doesn't create a history and cultural backdrop for the archetypes will make the world seem pale and generic. But even a straight-up import that connects them to the history and background of the world can make them seem fresh and interesting again, if well done.
QuoteArchetypes are shortcuts, for authors, worldbuilders, and DMs.
Bad generality.
Many times archetypes are used as paeans, acknowledging the writer/creator's sources of inspiration, not just creative laziness.
I am personally not a fan of the "archetypical" fantasy races. I have featured elves once, and hobgoblins have appeared in three of my settings to date (hobgoblins are awesomeness personified), but beyond that you won't see any such archetypes in my settings.
First and formost, I long ago ceased to see elves, dwarves, etcetera as "fantasy" creatures. Almost every attitude characterising a particular DnD core race falls readily within the normal human spectrum, such that each functions as a particular "flavour of man". This is not, however, by its very nature a bad thing. It allows one to explore the human facets that define those races, relative to the setting itself; for instance, if duty, retribution and cohesion define dwarvishness, how do those ideals compel dwarves in matters of love, commerce, war, politics, philosophy, and so on? In many ways, it is easier to examine those issues when the focal ideal is more pronounced, as opposed to in humans, wherein a multitude of motivations are played against each other.
For example, consider what happens when the integrity of a character's ideals are challenged, and betraying his base nature might be safer than standing tall. For a human, their characteristic adaptability makes relenting easier, as ideals are social and cultural, while a dwarf will, ninety-nine times out of one hundred, sooner walk into the jaws oblivion than betray his nature.
To put it another way, one of my campaigns featured a player (a hobgoblin) who was faced with the death of his commander or the death of his entire family. Rather than see his superior die, he killed each and every one of his kin with his own blade. Naturally, he loved his family, but his identity as a soldier trumped his identity as a father/brother/son. And all the players agreed; any hobgoblin in the same position would have immediately done the same thing.
One could argue that the races are nevertheless unoriginal, but my question then would be thus: are we playing a half-elf expressly because he's a half-elf, or because he contantly struggles to reconcile his more "graceful" inclinations with his base, human proclivities, and forever lives halfway between the apparent timelessness of the elves and the ephemerality of mankind? The terms "elf", "orc" and "halfling" may be cliche, but their psychologies are not. They are us, under a microscope.
Let me reiterate that I typically do not use such races. However, this is more because of my desire to exercise my creativity rather than being original for the sake of originality. I design races in order to explore the various natures of humanity, and subsequently, mind and emotion. In the pursuit of this I refuse to be constrained by fantasy archetypes, but nor should I be restrained from them.
Quote from: Sectarian PineappleFor example, consider what happens when the integrity of a character's ideals are challenged, and betraying his base nature might be safer than standing tall. For a human, their characteristic adaptability makes relenting easier, as ideals are social and cultural, while a dwarf will, ninety-nine times out of one hundred, sooner walk into the jaws oblivion than betray his nature.
Yeah, dwarves do have trouble standing tall most of the time.
What Luminous Crayon said.
There are certain ramifications for using the stock races: Familiarity. Players will be able to understand the setting if it is familiar. Players who understand the setting can be more proactive, having character with personal goals and ambitions (familiarity helps with this; it is neither sufficient nor necessary, only helpful).
This familiarity can be reached through simply playing enough in a given setting.
Tangent 1: Hey snakefing. Good to see.
Tangent 2: Tolkien elves and D&D elves have some profound differences. I found actual Tolkien elves refreshing, personally.
Tangent 3: [blockquote=Sectarian Pineapple]To put it another way, one of my campaigns featured a player (a hobgoblin) who was faced with the death of his commander or the death of his entire family. Rather than see his superior die, he killed each and every one of his kin with his own blade. Naturally, he loved his family, but his identity as a soldier trumped his identity as a father/brother/son. And all the players agreed; any hobgoblin in the same position would have immediately done the same thing.[/blockquote]Out of curiosity, what if the player had favoured the character's family? What would the reactions have been, from other players?
QuoteOut of curiosity, what if the player had favoured the character's family? What would the reactions have been, from other players?
Thankfully, that player was the only one with a character still strongly affiliated with the military (the others were renegades), so had he favoured his family, his companions would have empathised emotionally, while nevertheless having a somewhat diminished impression of his worthiness as a hobgoblin warrior, but they would not mock him. Hobgobs are harsh (incredibly so), but not heartless.
I'm going to put a word in here in favor of uniqueness and creativity.
It's true that archetypes (especially racial archetypes) tend to distill particular human traits and tendencies down to a particularly pure essence. This creates an amplified connection to our own cultural myths, personal feelings, and so on. That's what makes them intersting and powerful, and leads to interesting and effective games.
But the common archetypes are common because they are so well-trodden. Done poorly, they can become cliché, or worse, a vehicle for munchkinish wish-fulfillment. Much that is interesting and fun about these archetypes has been drained out by repetition.
To be interesting, the archetypes need to be re-awoken. By throwing in an interesting twist, or creating an entirely new race, you can force players to reconsider what they've always thought about these archetypes, bringing fresh characters and newly creative thoughts to the game. Everything can be livened up, even if only for a one-shot.
I think that's why so many feel rather strongly about elves, or drow, or other cliché archetypes. Too much exposure to fan-boy enthusiasm, or munchkin-y übercharacters, or just uncreative imitation has left a foul taste. (Gnomes??? Ewww!)
Well, as they say, flame on.
Honestly, I think dwarves are about the biggest offenders I tend to see, in terms of, shall we say, "less than optimal" handling of an archetypical race. For every setting I've ever seen where elves are portrayed as trite Legolas fanservice, I must have seen three where dwarves are portrayed as "Oh well they're short and have beards and are vaguely Scottish and they live in a cave I guess," and that's it. I have a soft spot for dwarves, but they get frequently ignored, because it's easy to stick them in a mineshaft and forget about them, I suspect. Out of sight, out of mine, style of thing.
Now I will contend that race information is probably the most important thing you can give to players in your setting, because of its impact on a player's character-writing process. Cultural information (which, in a fantasy game with multiple playable races, often overlaps very heavily with racial information) helps describe where characters have been in the past-- which in turn directs where they might go in the future.
I'm fond of high levels of detail in races, because more detail means more hooks upon which to hang a character. Every piece of information on a race in general is a detail I can use a character to comment on in specific, by either embracing or defying that element of culture. But one way or another, give me something to work with!
(That's the problem with standard-issue gnomes, and why I think they're so unpopular. We're given very little information about their culture, and it really boils down to nothing more than 1.) they're fond of ill-advised practical jokes, and 2.) they build ill-advised and oft-malfunctioning devices. Nobody likes to be in an adventuring party with someone who perceives their only purpose to be comic relief, and whose every action is ill-advised.)
A pitfall I dislike is when a writer tries to characterize a playable race as exotic and mysterious by giving no information about them. If I want to play a Xaq in someone's campaign, and the entire description for the Xaq race is basically "they live in the far-off deserts, and little is known about them," I suddenly have a character with no cultural identity. Little is known about them? Even to themselves? I've been a Xaq all my life and I know "little" about my own native culture? How is that supposed to work?
I tend to agree about the whole dwarf thing. By far the most stereotyped and underdeveloped of the common races. But then they don't seem to attract quite the fanboy crowd, so I don't have quite the same visceral reaction as I do to elves.
Gnomes are vastly underserved. They should be the shy, reclusive pastoral race, often overlooked but only at your peril. But no, someone somewhere decided they should be practical joker bardic tinkerers. Huh??
(I recently posted a bit on dwarfs and even less on gnomes in Axa. Unfortunately, they are still grossly underdeveloped, so any ideas you might have to add would be greatly appreciated.)
Quote from: snakefingGnomes are vastly underserved. They should be the shy, reclusive pastoral race, often overlooked but only at your peril. But no, someone somewhere decided they should be practical joker bardic tinkerers. Huh??
Ain't nothing wrong with tinker gnomes. Mess with this midget and get a face full of hot lead.
Oh, and money. Gnomes with money. Because there aren't really any money-races in the whole "pre-industrial fantasy" world.
You're thinking of cyber-gnomes.
Cyber-what-now? Mine gots the massive hovercraft and the melange ripoff, but no computers as it now stands.
Quote from: Luminous CrayonA pitfall I dislike is when a writer tries to characterize a playable race as exotic and mysterious by giving no information about them. If I want to play a Xaq in someone's campaign, and the entire description for the Xaq race is basically "they live in the far-off deserts, and little is known about them," I suddenly have a character with no cultural identity. Little is known about them? Even to themselves? I've been a Xaq all my life and I know "little" about my own native culture? How is that supposed to work?
Here, here! Every world builder should make note of this observation before starting their world. Same goes for "this land is a mysterious place from which no visitor has ever returned."
Quote from: Epic MeepoHere, here! Every world builder should make note of this observation before starting their world. Same goes for "this land is a mysterious place from which no visitor has ever returned."
That seems very different, at least at first glance. Care to explain?
Túrin
Quote from: TúrinQuote from: Epic MeepoHere, here! Every world builder should make note of this observation before starting their world. Same goes for "this land is a mysterious place from which no visitor has ever returned."
That seems very different, at least at first glance. Care to explain?
Túrin
That phrase should not be the last word on said place. It is a cop-out.
Campaign Building is not telling ghost stories. A nation/region should be fleshed out, we the players/GM/casual reader should know what is there, whether or not the majority of characters know or not.
But doesn't a setting benefit from having places that can be detailed by the individual DM? At the very least, it seems having a mysterious land would be far less of a worldbuilding sin than having a mysterious race.
Túrin
Quote from: Off-Topic ClarificationThe mysterious, undescribed land is, for GM's, what the mysterious, undescribed PC race is for players. In order to play an undescribed race, players need to invent their own culture. In order to run an adventure in which PCs might wander over into an undescribed land, a GM must invent his own inhabitants and terrain. In each of these cases, part of the world-building burden has been left to groups that actually run campaigns there.
(Note that I'm not opposed to the idea of mysterious, unexplored lands. It just isn't helpful to include lots of mysterious, unexplained lands. An "unexplored" land is one that has at least some detail, though no one in other areas is aware of it. An "unexplained" land has no details at all, and if PCs ever go there, the GM has no reference material explaining what the PCs might learn about the area.)[/spoiler]
Unique vs. archetype.
I always go with unique, or at least a great expansion of the concept. My dwarves of Midgard still use the "live undeground, mine, smith" most of the rest of the stuff except for being unpersonable. I then I took the idea that they had a lot of stuff and said "they would do something with all that stuff" specifically they would trade it, and if they dig so much then it's entirely possible that they dug through the mountains and found out what's on the other side. Dwarves just have too much potential to be a boring race. Midgard elves take the idea that elves live in the wild and determines that they'd be much more hardy than PHB elves. Of course, I'm guilty of creating some races for that setting with little detail to them (kellen and sprite).
I agree that one of the greatest problems with archetypes is that people use them and then don't do anything more with them. But I can sympathize with people who just don't have the creative energy to do everything detailed, and not everyone will be good at every aspect of world building. We debate these issues but I hope everyone recognizes that.
Quote...and not everyone will be good at every aspect of world building. We debate these issues but I hope everyone recognizes that.
Oh, absolutely. It's one reason why I love these kinds of discussions so much.
Everybody has their own strengths and weaknesses, of course. So I like to take the chance to talk shop with people whose strengths line up with my weaknesses, so I can learn from them and improve my writing skills.