Create A Religion
Create A Religion
Create A Religion
Guardians of Order
Forthcoming from Guardians of Order is Tékumel: Empire of the Petal Throne, a new
role-playing game for the world of Tékumel. Visit www.iguardians.net/ for more
information.
Revision: 5
All material copyright 2004 by M.A.R. Barker
cover illustration
Giovanna Fregni
editorial help
Chris Davis
Chris Claydon
Create a Religion
In Your Spare Time for Fun and Profit
A Discussion of Religious Considerations
for Realistic Fantasy Role Playing Games
By M.A.R. Barker.1
Perhaps it is about time for a symposium or seminar - even a book, if somebody wants to write it -
on the nature and place of "religion" in fantasy role-playing campaigns. Religion is so central to
human society that it is hard to find a culture without it; yet many game designs provide only the
sketchiest of guidelines or else offer an easy take-off from our own Western-Classical-Mediaeval
tradition, the Norse or Celtic pantheons, or the works of some established science-fantasy fiction
author. At most, one finds an occasional "alien" religion with odd names and a dollop or two of
"mythology".
If the game designer has created cultures with "religions," it is going to be vital for players in his
campaign to know a LOT about them. What happens if I please my "god?" What transpires if I
offend him? What sorts of behaviour does he approve - or dislike? Ethical questions ("What
happens if I kill hat guy?") are vital, as are concepts of "Good" and "Evil" generally. What is the
organisation of my temple and my priesthood? What about life after death? What do we know about
"ghosts" and "magic?" Most importantly, what is my temple's socio-political position vis-a-vis the
government and other structures of my society? The player who does not learn these things very
early in the campaign "gets hosed" (to use the vernacular), as he richly deserves.
Religions in fantasy role-playing games are part of the fun: the pomp, ceremony, costumes, recondite
doctrines, mysterious lore, powerful forces for "Good" or for "Evil" - all have been a part of our
literary heritage for a long time. Yet fantasy game designers rarely come with degrees in
anthropology, history or comparative religion. The usual practice has thus been to grab randomly
from the more colourful sects of this world, plus those found in science-fantasy fiction. One thus
sees temples of Ra, Isis, and Set cheek by jowl with mediaeval Catholic churches, shrines devoted to
Thor and Odin, Druidic fanes, sanctuaries to Crom - and Crom knows what else! This is neither
very original nor very realistic. [Some other time we can argue about whether "realism" is a positive
value or not.]
A good science-fantasy author could explain how all of these sects, cults, and churches came to be
so haphazardly jumbled together in one society. But not only is this sort of world pretty unlikely, it
raises sticky questions: How do all of these groups get along together, particularly the more militant,
missionising sects? What are their relationships with the secular authorities? How do they support
themselves? Why aren't devotees of the simpler faiths converted by the doctrines of the subtler
ones? Man being who he is, chances are that all of these sects will be struggling for secular and
divine supremacy, and this should logically bring about persecutions, pogroms, and religious wars.
Some faiths do tolerate other sects in their midst, of course, and even attempt to integrate them into
their own fabric (e.g. an early attempt on the part of the priests of Vishnu to make Jesus Christ an
1 Article originally appeared in Gryphon : The Forum of Fantasy & Science Fiction Gaming. No., 2, Fall 1980.
Another common treatment of religion is to borrow from just ONE world of science-fantasy
literature. Many players are quite satisfied just to live vicariously in an exact replica of the worlds
developed by such authors as Prof. J.R.R. Tolkien, R.E. Howard, Fritz Leiber and others. These
people are not really different, thus, from those "realistic" gamers who desire careful simulations of
Twelfth Century France, the Egypt of Ramesses II, Alexander's Macedonia, or the Europe of
Napoleon's time. The designer's duty consists in devising a game system which presents this mythos
accurately, and in interpreting and filling in details missing or left vague by the original author. This
solves the problem for these gamers - although it still does not address some of the fundamental
assumptions about society and religion made by the fiction writer himself.
Those who want to be a little different find the "alternate time-line" approach useful: there can still
be "Christians," "Jews," "Muslims" and other familiar faiths (with altered histories and tenets,
usually), plus "Reformed Churches of Quetzalcoatl," a "First Holy Temple of Ba'al," or whatever
else sounds fun.
Fantasy game designers have much more frequently had recourse to yet another interpretation of
our own Western-Classical- Mediaeval "legendary" tradition, however: more trolls, elves, dwarves,
fairies, griffins, dragons, unicorns, and other beasties. This has been done now by so many authors -
and so unimaginatively by some - that it must seem pretty old-hat to most readers.
It is much harder - and not always as satisfying - to create a wholly new world with new peoples,
new faiths, new political systems, and new mores. This needs a staggering amount of work and
thought. Otherwise, it is likely to appear too simplistic, too neat, too "clean," too colourless - just
normal Americans running about in funny costumes. Many science-fictional worlds have this flavour
for me: their authors concentrate so heavily upon space ships and weapons and technology that they
forget that their characters are still human, that they will have views about life and the supernatural
which do not necessarily coincide with our own Twentieth Century ideas any more than ours do
with Fifteenth Century Spain, that there will be religious structures, hierarchies, and behavioral
manifestations which are vital to the people of those societies but which may seem silly, stupid,
cruel, alien, or just outright crazy to us. The farther removed from our own world in time and space,
the more different the peoples of the futures will probably have become.
One undeniable fact has to be faced, however: both science-fantasy fiction and fantasy role-playing
games are created by and for people of THIS time and THIS generalised Western European
heritage. The cultural ethos which encourages us to speculate about the future and about other
cultures is hardly shared by all of Europe, much less the people of "The Third World." This has
nothing to do with "primitive-ness" or a lack of technology; it is simply that our own Western
traditions in the Eighteenth, Nineteenth, and Twentieth Centuries have come to focus upon this
type of speculation; our Weltanschauung ("world-view") pushes us to do this, while other cultures
do not share this and have no interest in it. Nevertheless, it has to be underlined again and again that
we are creatures of our own cultures, bound by them, limited by them, and unable to produce
anything that really transcends them. We do have the broadening of our horizons vouchsafed us
through history, philosophy, anthropology, and a host of other disciplines; yet we are still parochial
in our outlook and limited by our own mores as to what we can and cannot imagine. To prove this,
What this means for the designers of fantasy role-playing games is just this: a familiar background
will probably "sell" better than an unfamiliar one. The more intelligible the characters, social
structures, languages, mores, and religious manifestations are, the easier it is for players to assume
comfortable roles in that world. Even a mediocre Western- Classical-Mediaeval background will
probably more saleable than an esoteric one. Pages of odd names and lengthy disquisitions tend to
repel the reader, and it is a lot easier just to toss mediaeval France-England, Classical Greece and
Rome, and the Norsemen and Gauls into a blender, season well with Tolkien, Howard, Vance,
Leiber, and Lovecraft, and add a soupcon of one's own imagination: voila! a world!
Let's assume, however, that an author or campaign designer does want to break new ground. One of
the first questions to be asked is: MUST every society have a religion? Here I am going to go out on
a limb and say, "yes," although a definitive answer properly ought to be left to those with more
expertise than I have. Every society I know of has (or had) strong beliefs relating to "the
supernatural": events and relationships which transcend or lie outside that culture's corpus of
prosaic, material knowledge. Nearly everybody (even those atheists who still knock on wood, don't
step on sidewalk cracks, and avoid breaking mirrors) has some idea of "supernatural" power,
although this is not always anthropomorphicised into "gods." There are always supernaturally-
enjoined ethical and moral principles (how else does one justify an intense respect for "life" when it
is quite clear that we cannot hope to feed all of the living?); there are always ideas about life after
death; there are always "supernatural" sanctions upon incorrect or antisocial behaviour; there are
always ways to obtain "supernatural" aid in getting what one wants and other methods for avoiding
"bad luck." Nearly every culture indulges in "explanations": how the world got to be as it is, what
brought it all about, how man relates to it, what it's eventual denouement is going to be, and
especially what man has to do in order to acquire the most goodies: eternal salvation, the favour of
the gods, good luck, worldly success, and whatever else the culture preaches. In spite of the inroads
of "Science" into the supernatural in our century, I still cannot conceive of a future without any
recognisable "religion" at all, much to my atheist friends' disgust. I can hardly imagine a future in
which all "religion" has been depersonalised, boiled down, and homogenised into a great abstract
"Life Force." Humans love to anthropomorphicise, personalise, and complicate. I suspect there will
always be counter-arguments, splinter sects, heresies, re-interpretations, and religious squabbles.
Even the fiercely monotheistic and iconoclastic religion of Islam has these tendencies. Somebody
always comes along to spoil an utopia. Whether one believes in Prof. Toynbee's theories of cyclical
rises and falls of societies or not, the one thing that seems certain about mankind is the endless
capacity to change and to foul up nice, neat systems! Alternative doctrines are popularised and
spread, political leaders get deified, some group manages to establish their particular "ism" as the
State Religion, a prophet, a holy man, or reformer appears - and there goes the ballgame. The only
changeless and eternal principle appears to be Change itself.
Let's turn to some basic physical requirements for different manifestations of "religion." The most
fundamental is, of course, a food surplus large enough to permit specialisation. If food-gathering is
so time-consuming that every member of the society has to work all the time just to eat, then the
The usual ancient-mediaeval background given in many fantasy role-playing games indicates quite a
high degree of specialisation. Metal tools and weapons, clay pots, glass goblets, woven cloth, tanned
leather and furs, wood and stone carving, permanent houses - all imply at least part-time specialists.
These people have to be supported by a larger group of food-producers. As specialisation develops
further, the craftsman has to distribute his products, and this brings about trade, and this brings
about trade, markets, caravan routes and roads, and larger towns and cities. It is hard for a nomadic
or semi-nomadic ways to develop the more settled life of a permanent agricultural society. {This is as
the article reads in Gryphon...}
Given a settled society, thus, specialisation - a religion, as a strong concomitant - just seems to grow.
Ancient history and anthropology again provide some fair guesses about the processes involved in
this. The earliest gods and totems of ancient Egypt were the products of small agricultural
settlements. As time went on certain centres became richer through commerce and military
conquest. Others became subordinate or went under entirely. The god of a powerful community
first extended his hegemony to the surrounding countryside, then to neighbouring villages and
towns, and eventually to a whole region. Competing deities were subsumed into the ruling god's
mythos or else fell into desuetude and disappeared. Trade and political support allowed the early
local priesthoods to expand, and the mud-brick shrines became stone temples. Pilgrimage centres
evolved, as did priestly hierarchies and organisations. Land ownership was regularised, and records
had to be kept, leading to the development of writing. The more popular and powerful gods were
merged with the deities of less prestigious and more localised sects, and eventually a State Religion
appeared. This struggle continued all down through Egyptian history, but even this did not produce
a neat, homogenous, and permanently stable system.
Shifts of political power led to the prominence of one god or group of gods at one time and their
replacement by others in a later period. Those deities who were unlucky either end up on the
outskirts of the cosmogony (with no worshippers or profitable temples) or else they were relegated
to a brief mention in some obscure, archaic text. Foreign gods were introduced by invaders and
settlers and were syncretically merged into the pantheon. Greek mercantile communities brought in
their philosophies during the later dynasties, and these became part of Ptolemaic Egyptian thought.
When Christianity replaced the old Egyptian-Hellenistic gods entirely, the older ways changed but
persisted in the teachings of the Gnostics and other sects. The advent of Islam finally put paid to
most of this, but even today there are some unique features in Egyptian Islam, particularly in the
rural areas. There are even a few faint traces of the Old Gods: I myself have seen bunches of flowers
and dried dates on the little altar of Sekhmet at Karnak. The bored Egyptian guard opined only that,
"There are still some crazy people back in the villages." The winds of change wear away the
monolith of conservatism, but slowly, oh, so very slowly...
What, then, is the nature of the Supernatural itself? Does the culture believe that inanimate objects,
plants, etc. possess innate powers of their own? If so, can mankind acquire these powers through
some kind of recognised "religious" action, rather like the "Mana" of the South Pacific? Going
farther, do inanimate things, plants, animals, etc. possess personalities - spirits of some sort - which
can be got to aid or hinder human objectives? Do certain animals possess powerful spirits of
archetypes with which man can ally himself? Are there spirits or deities inherent within various
natural forces: the sun, moon, thunder, wind, rain, lightning, fire, or the sea? Are the gods organised
around the human family: a mother (fertility) goddess, a father (procreator) deity, sons, daughters,
brothers, and sisters? Are the gods related to man's own activities and economic cycles: harvests,
corn, war, smithing, cattle, etc.? Do ghosts - the spirits of one's dead ancestors - walk the world
ready to render service or to harm the unwary? Do the beings of dreams and visions have power
over men's acts? If there are indeed personal, anthropomorphic "gods," how do they act in the
present world: can one expect to meet a "god," perhaps mate and produce half-divine children?
Have human heroes ever been promoted into the divine pantheon? Can an ascetic, saint, or holy
man achieve contact with a god and this gain divine insights? Do the gods want to contact man
(through revelation or prophecy) and thus guide man's actions in this world? Do the gods really
CARE about man's actions? Do they thus enjoin a code of "Good" or "Evil" upon their devotees?
The possibilities are well nigh endless, and it is easily possible for one and the same society to exhibit
more than one of the above concepts at the same time.
There is no easy way to determine just which route a given culture will take. Monotheism, dualism,
trinitarianism, and other such parings down of the supernatural are not limited to the technologically
developed societies. Some, like modern Hinduism, have several such "isms" going all at the same
time: there is a multiplicity of "gods" for the average believer; these are in turn all considered to be
"avatars" (aspects) of one or another of the three major deities by the more sophisticated; and some
sects and philosophers go on to state that these three deities are only aspects themselves of a greater
Divine Oneness.
Philosophy is also not necessarily found in every society. There are some clearly non-philosophical
cultures: e.g., the ancient Egyptian texts deal with rituals, the attributes of the gods, the ways to
achieve the god's favours, the cosmogony of the universe, the realms of the afterlife (and how to live
forever afterwards in good health), spells and charms to insure various kinds of success or the
Many cultures evince a "First Cause" explanation for "How Things Got to Be as They Are" without
becoming "philosophical" about it. In some cases this is no more than a simple myth: "In the
beginning there was God X, and from him A, B, and C came forth." Other societies prefer an
(unexplained) Mythic Age, in which the gods and other beings dwelt, fought, and performed mighty
deeds; this is then contrasted with the Historical Age, in which man and other present day creatures
appear. This transition is sometime a slow change, while in others it is effected by a "culture
transformer" deity who goes around slaying hostile beings, teaching mankind how to live, solidifying
reality, and performing other useful tasks to get our present world going and keep it on course.
Logic and philosophical underpinnings for one's theology are not that commonly found around this
world. [Judging from some of the manifestations I see around me, it seems there are a lot of sects
even today which could use some of this, but that's another story...] In any case, there need not be
an Hegelian, Kantian, or Cartesian "philosopher" produced by other cultures and times may indeed
include concepts and premises at which a Western philosopher would throw up his hands and cry,
“this is not Philosophy!”
Almost all religious systems I know of have something to say about what happens to man after
death. This runs the whole gamut of ideas from no afterlife at all, through wandering the world as
"ghosts," to theories of reincarnation, to intricate labyrinths of "heavens" and "hells," to being
accepted into the Supernal One and becoming part of God Himself. You pays your money, and you
takes your choice...
Ethics and behaviour may or may not be legislated by "religion." In some societies proper conduct is
simply the society's accepted norms, and the gods don't seem to have a lot to say about it one way or
the other. Elsewhere, the gods demand certain rituals and sacrifices, but leave ethics and mores to a
pervasive set of magical taboos, injunctions, and minor figures. In still other cultures the gods make,
reflect, or represent the behavioral norms, prescribing acceptable behavioral action for certain
spheres (e.g., war : heroism, bravery, valour) and yet say nothing about other areas of social
interaction (e.g., cheating at business). Some societies possess divinely revealed or inspired codes of
law and ethics (e.g., the Ten Commandments) and a few display related concepts of "sin" and
"virtue" (enforcing these with the carrot and the stick of "salvation" and "damnation").
When one turns from concepts to the material manifestations of religion, a vast array of traits,
features, and patterns comes into view. Every conceivable sphere of human life has been involved in
some religion or other at one or another period of history: rituals, ceremonies, sacrifices, totems,
images, shrines, temples, sacred objects, holy days, fasting, taboos, scriptures, priesthoods,
monasteries, ascetics, mystics, hymns and music, art, dance, theatre, sex, economics, politics, natural
science - you name it, and it's yours. There is hardly room even in an encyclopedia to discuss all of
these things.
In some ways fantasy novel backgrounds nay be easier to construct than those meant for fantasy
role-playing games. The author of a novel does not have to answer questions from his characters
about their supposed religions; the designer of a fantasy role-playing campaign does. In a story,
"Great Jugbo" of the Huitani tribe needs only to be established as a ferocious war-god, complete
with juicy details about idols and temples. He is only there because the writer needs an evil, hostile
priesthood from whose clutches lovely damsels can be rescued by Our Hero. (Thereafter the author
can plug in the cassette entitles "Rescue from the Temple During a Hideous Ceremony" or perhaps
that one called "Fighting the Enemy Champion in the Arena." Dull.)
In any kind of ongoing, role-playing game, however, Jugbo's putative worshippers are going to want
a LOT more explanation. Just who is this god anyway? How does he fit into the pantheon? Tell us
more about his sphere of activity ("war") and what we are supposed to do about it? What are his
ceremonies like? How do we dress? What actions will win us promotion and prestige in the
hierarchy? Who pays us if we become priests and how much do we earn? Are we respected and in
favour with the chiefs of our tribe? What is our position vis-a-vis other sects? How widespread is the
worship of Might Jugbo? And so forth.
It is relatively easy to work out Jugbo's details. Providing that the deities of the society are
anthropomorphic (or at least "persons" with intelligible motives), the pantheon can be expanded and
embellished until it reads like Bullfinch's Mythology or The Golden Bough. (Unfortunately, these
two older works have been superseded by much recent study in the field of comparative religion.
Most of those reading this article will already have had some college or university education and can
browse through the relevant sections of their own; there is thus no need to add a bibliography.)
Let us assume that the designer has described Jugbo's cult in some detail. Players are told how Jugbo
fits into the tribes mythology, who his relatives are, and what his sect preaches. If the designer is
himself of a theological bent, we can expect such statements as: "Jugbo represents the Great
Primordial Hunger present throughout the universe and evinced by the survival of the fittest and the
need of every creature to feed upon others. Everything slain by Jugbo's devotees thus passes into his
Look at all this tells us; here we are given a basic theological position. Jugbo is clearly an active deity.
He favours violence, and yet this violence supports the Existence of Things As They Are. He
accepts the morality of killing to live, and his worshippers are thus not likely to be vegetarians. We
can extrapolate that those who perish in the Path of Jugbo are going to pass on into some sort of
Valhalla, a heaven reserved for warriors. Or perhaps their spirits will be taken into the Fiery
Furnaces themselves, becoming one with the energies of the cosmos. We can surmise that Jugbo
approves of bravery, daring, military skill, strength, and indifference to pain. He disapproves of
passivity, peacefulness, cowardice, and meditative inaction. Depending on the rest of the tribal
ethos, Jugbo's doctrines may include gallantry to enemies, chivalry, kindness and toleration to non-
warriors - or the opposite of these traits: cruelty, treachery towards nonmembers of the sect,
contempt for the meek and helpless, etc. Going still farther, we may expect to see a warrior-caste or
military aristocracy, secret military societies, a war-chief for the tribe, and a philosophy of conquest
and continual expansion. We can also guess that Jugbo likes fires and hates cold, that he enjoys
feasting and eating, and that he may also serve as the patron of such war-related crafts as smithing,
hunting, and armourmaking. his ceremonies will probably be strong stuff: sacrifices (remember the
"Might Maw?"), fires, war-dances, possibly such displays of courage as walking across beds of hot
coals, going into a "berserker" trance and dashing off to prove one's bravery by killing somebody,
secret and painful initiations for boys becoming adult warriors, the sanctifying of military weapons,
fire- or blood-coloured vestments, perhaps a lower status for women (if the society does not
encourage female warriors), and other related features. Jugbo probably also approves of the number
fifteen (the "Fifteen Fiery Furnaces," above), although this may be a more generalised pattern
number in the culture. This in turn may give us a take-off point for theories on tribal numerology,
omens, calendars, and all sorts of other traits. Fine. Jugbo is now fleshed out to the point that
players in the Huitani campaign can see what sort of deity he is and what sorts of roles are available
to them in the culture. We have begun to get an idea of the Weltanschauung of the Huitani people.
Problems may arise for Jugbo and his followers, however, if the designer introduces some ethical
principle beyond the gods and to which they must adhere as do mortal men. Whether the designer
inserts this principle only through his own god-like power (e.g., by simply stating that Jugbo is
"Good" or "Lawful," "Evil" or "Chaotic"), or whether he brings this in through some feature of the
creation itself (e.g., a prophet, philosopher, reformer, or some event in Huitani history), the result is
the same: Jugbo's every action is now going to be scrutinised and judged according to external
standards over which he has no control.
The content of this principle, standard, or philosophical position has to be made clear to the players
since their positions are entirely dependant on it. If the Huitani are dualists, holding that there are
"Good" deities and "Evil" deities and that both fit into the theology, then there are only practical
problems: the relative political and social positions of the two "alignments." Jugbo himself can be
put into the "Good" or "Lawful" category because of his role as a world-maintainer; or he can be
placed amongst the "Evil" or "Chaotic" deities because of his emphasis upon violence, killing, and
mayhem. If these two categories possess roughly equal status and power, then each player can join
the group of his choice depending on his own temperament and inclinations. If Jugbo is put into an
"alignment" category which has prevailed over the other in the culture, then he and his adherents are
home free: Jugbo's temples will be honoured, his followers respected, his commandments obeyed,
and his priests will be at the centre of the tribe's affairs.
Religions are rarely neat and homogenous, as said above. We have not even mentioned possible
doctrinal disputes within Jugbo's temples, heresies, "progressive" and "conservative" factions,
"Angry Young Men" and "Old Diehards", prophets and reformers, secret societies of fanatics (or
liberals, for that matter), mystical versus non-mystical interpretations of Jugbo's being, political strife
between powerful members of the hierarchy, splinter sub-sects, and all of the personal responses to
any dogma ranging from atheism and cynicism to blind faith and wild-eyed fanaticism. We have also
not considered possible regional variations, class and caste variations, and variations between the
tenets taught to commoners and those held by the intellectual elite. There may also be temporal
changes between the Jugbo of today and the Jugbo of a hundred years ago. A good simulation ought
to take some of these historical and sociological factors into account, and a few of them can be put
to good purpose even within a simple campaign.
Perhaps enough now has been said about Jugbo. It is time to look at some specifically game-related
issues revolving around "religion" in fantasy campaign games.
One fundamental premise, in many "Swords and Sorcery" novels and also in almost all fantasy role-
playing games I have seen, is that the "gods" and the supernatural do really exist. Whether this is
explained away on pseudo-scientific ground (e.g., the "gods" are really only vastly powerful
interdimensional beings), or whether there is really "Supernatural" power in the usual religious sense
of the word, the fact is that a real, live, imminent god can do a lot more to help or hinder a player
character than can some of the "deities" of this world! This "god" can bestow favours upon his
faithful, revivify them when they die, guide them and give them information, and help them acquire
a lot more goodies than are usually available to the long suffering non-player characters of the
fantasy world. Conversely, a player who acts contrary to his deity's wishes really ought to expect a
stiff lightning bolt up the backside, but in my experience this happens only rarely, no matter how
justly deserved, since one's players raise such cries and miserable remonstrances of protest that it
seems heartless for a referee to employ this "ultimate weapon" too often.
Having the referee serve as "vox Dei," with or without modifying dice rolls, does serve the useful
purpose of allowing him to direct his scenarios, guide and aid his players, and generally keep the
world balanced. Misuse of this power or even positive overuse of it, however, can ruin a game. If
"divine" aid makes it too easy to attain objectives, or if "interfering" gods make it too difficult, the
Another basic assumption in most fantasy role-playing games is the reality and efficacy of "magic."
It is not always clear whether this works through the powers of the gods, or whether it operates as a
"natural force" (again possibly with a pseudoscientific explanation.)
The fact is that fantasy magic is an extremely potent weapon. Unlike a novel, where it works only
when and how the author wants it to operate, sorcery in a role-playing game has to be carefully
curbed and balanced; otherwise one finds player characters going around blowing down cities,
devastating armies, finding out the innermost secrets of the world, and generally making a wreck of
the designer's pretty scenery. If it is made too hard to acquire and use, players seem to find little fun
in the campaign; if it is made too potent and too available, the same thing happens.
In reality, of course, "magic" would rapidly become the fiercely guarded private property of the most
ruthless and influential forces in the society: the priestly hierarchy, the secular rulers, or a
combination of the two. A good sorcerer, therefore, might find himself rather like a World War II
rocket expert, whisked off by either the Russians or the Americans to a strange country, pampered
and fed but worked very hard, and probably stamped "Top Secret" forever. Even in the dispersed,
comparatively loosely structured society of Arthurian legend, this was the sort of role played by
Merlin. As long as he did what the Round Table and the King thought he ought to do, and as long
as he did not develop any yearnings for power of his own, he was accepted and given respect. Those
sorcerers who did not toe the line, on the other hand, tended to suffer for their noncooperation.
In all likelihood a "might wizard" who did not accept state patronage from the society and went off
to dwell in a lonely tower on the moors would soon realise that he needed food (and hence lands,
villages full of farmers, etc.), goods produced by artisans and craftsmen, and certain other comforts
and goodies to be had only within the society. If he attempted to establish his own realm, obstruct
traffic, and break the king's laws, he would soon find himself the target of a punitive expedition. If
he opted to live as an ascetic recluse in a cave or a ruined tower, he might be tolerated so long as he
did not become a nuisance - but he would have to give up any real power thereby over others in his
cultural milieu.
All right, all right, some may protest; you are arguing from "reality"; yet this is FANTASY. What is
wrong with a designer postulating might wizards living all alone in remote towers, beautiful maidens
imprisoned in castles with no visible means of sustenance, dragons who can fly around like fighter
planes, and all the rest? The answer is that nothing is wrong with all of this, if this is your cup of tea.
All I am saying is that if you want your fantasy world to have any depth and detail to it, then these
are problems to be considered and explained either in pseudo-scientific terms or in mythic fashion.
"Good" and "Evil" are also relative. Religion tends to be conservative and to support the most
strongly held beliefs of a society. Therefore, whatever the culture says is "good" IS "Good." If the
gods must be appeased and the order of the universe maintained by the cutting out of human hearts,
as in Aztec society, then this will be what is "Good," and it will have all the support and sanctions of
the priests, the rulers, and the common man. The priests of Ba'al tossed infants into the flames
burning within the bellies of their brazen idols with just the same serenity of motive. So did the
ancient Britons when they burnt their captives alive in wicker cages. So did Adolf Hitler when he
postulated a society free of Communists and Jews. To quote John Toland's book, "Adolf Hitler,"
"...for Hitler already had massive support on all levels of German society. Even the Association of
National German Jews issued an appeal in his favour. And so, on August 19[1934] almost 90
percent of the German people freely voted their approval of Adolf Hitler as Hindenburg's
successor." (p. 358) He was also favoured by many churchmen, catholic and protestant alike. His
"Good" was perceived as the Good of all Germany.
All of this only demonstrates that "Good" and "Evil" may have meanings very different at other
times and places. Our "Good" appears "Evil" when viewed by the other side. Most fantasy novels
do not expound on the viewpoints, theological foundations, mores and ethics, and the world-view of
the "Heavies." Yet in a society with two equally balanced "alignments" one must expect much more
dialogue, discourse, position-putting, and attempts to convince the other group. This is essentially
what one finds in a fantasy role-playing game, with its neat black-and-white division into "Good"
and "Evil" or "Law" and "Chaos." This very black-and-whiteness is suspect, of course; most peoples
and cultures and institutions are various shades of grey.
I do realise that this division into "alignments" is there at least partially to aid game mechanics: each
side has an opposite side to fight, providing opportunities for conflict and excitement. Yet even if I
accept a dichotomy in "Good" versus "Evil," or perhaps just "Friendly" versus "Hostile," I still find
it hard to comprehend "Neutral" as a permanent third "alignment," much less such combinations as
"Lawful- Neutral," "Chaotic-Neutral," "Lawful-Chaotic," etc. I can understand "neutral" as a specific
reaction to individual stimuli, particularly those which do not affect oneself directly. I know people
who are "Lawful" about murder and incest, "Chaotic" about speeding and laws related to the
smoking of controlled substances, and "Neutral" about zoning laws in Iowa, marriage customs in
Afghanistan, the rights and wrongs of the Albigensian Crusade, and much of what else is going on at
a distance from them. I can imagine a foreigner or an outside observer being "neutral" to some
extent, as an anthropologist is supposed to be when studying a foreign culture. But I find it hard to
believe that an individual, a community, or an ethnic group can remain "neutral" to events which
intimately affect it's welfare. One can opt to be an "isolationist" and stay out of a conflict as long as
possible, or one can try to deal equally with both sides and favour neither; if events or issues arise
which make this "neutrality" untenable, however, then this "alignment" is going to vanish. In no case
A related problem in fantasy role-playing games arises when the designer does create a mythos with
precepts very alien or unpalatable to his modern European-American players. People cannot help
but carry their usual attitudes and reactions over into a campaign, even though playing in a
roleplaying games theoretically demands that they give these up while the game is in progress and
substitute the mores of another place and time. Some types of behaviour which are considered
highly antisocial in this world are accepted easily by role-playing: e.g., vicarious violence, slaughtering
peasants, burning down villages, and massacring city guards (read "police"). Slavery, thieves, harlots,
duels - all have been drained of their ugly connotations by generations of "Swords and Sorcery"
novels, comic books, and the movies. It depends on the designer whether these antisocial activities
are even considered "Chaotic" or not; in some campaigns they are "Lawful." Other forms of
behaviour have not received this stamp of approval: e.g., incest, homosexuality, infanticide,
polygamy, and polyandry, etc. I remember once having incredible difficulty trying to get a player in
an ancient Egyptian campaign to marry his sister, a non-player character. The fate of the Throne of
the Two Lands depended upon it, yet Pharaoh just would not tie the connubial knot. He could not
face the idea of incest, even though this was "approved behaviour" for a King of Egypt. I finally let
him get away with it, sending the sister off to marry a prince of the Mitanni.
Even the sorts of violence sanctioned by "Swords and Sorcery" fiction can become unthinkable if
the player is made aware of all the ugly details. I once had a player who had chosen to be a priest of
a particularly ferocious deity who demanded daily human sacrifices. So long as I kept the description
of these rites brief and abstract there was no objection: "You and your fellow priests cut out the
hearts of twenty victims today." Okay, no problem. Then, once, as an experiment, I manoeuvred
this player into a situation where he himself had to sacrifice just one person. I made this a real
tearjerker: A little girl, a peasant child, barely ten years old and as cute as could be. I overdid the
description: her innocent trust, her tearful eyes, how she clutched at his hand as he led her to the
This is NOT to urge that fantasy ole-playing games be used to teach cruelty, indifference to life, or
other antisocial attitudes! Psychologists differ as to whether vicarious violence has a cathartic and
useful effect, or whether it teaches us things we don't really want to learn. My little peasant girl was
an experiment only. Such issues have to be squarely faced when one sites down to devise a fantasy
roleplaying campaign. Really unpleasant and vicious "Chaos" may be harmless for some, but for
others we should tone down our "Chaotic" characters, soften their beliefs, and understate their
actions. Yet we should not regulate it all to the pleasantly innocuous atmosphere of an English
backgarden. This may be all right for games produced for children, but the players of advanced
fantasy role-playing games are usually young adults. We should perhaps attempt to offer interestingly
different, even "alien", roles to play, roles which teach the need for a deeper understanding of how
other societies think and act, which help us to rid ourselves of our parochialisms and prejudices, and
which build bridges of empathy rather than burn them down.
There is one more game-related topic relating both to "religion" and to the secular areas of a fantasy
world: this is the issue of "individual freedom," as permitted by so many fantasy campaigns. One
finds player characters wandering about without let or hindrance, pushing into palaces to talk to
kings, intruding upon ceremonies in the holiest of holies, travelling from country to country with no
questions asked, starting businesses and ventures which have tremendous social consequences and
ramifications, and generally acting as if they owned the place!
None of these things would be easy in reality. Even "knights errant" have homes and families,
property which they must manage in order to eat, and duties within the society other than going
about potting off dragons. "Priests" are usually even more restricted: there are prayers, studies,
rituals, administrative work, people to see, and things to do. Most of these prosaic details can be
glossed over - it is a fantasy after all - but realism does become a problem when a "priest" shirks his
responsibilities to go off adventuring. The same is true of the "soldier" who has a military command
yet spends his time exploring draughty dungeons or out rescuing fair damsels. This is not just a case
for ignoring the nitty-gritty for playability's sake; it is flagrant, outright dereliction of duty! In this
world such a miscreant would be fired or courtmartialed. In less gentle eras he would swing on the
gallows.
Anything approaching a "realistic" society can hardly be so unstructured that characters can roister
about "adventuring," clouting city guards, offending the aristocracy, robbing tombs and temples, and
amassing great quantities of wealth with nary a question asked. Such actions would receive short
shrift indeed. One has only to glance through any ethnography, any history, any description of a real
human society, to realise that ALL societies have established institutions to prevent just this sort of
thing: to guard, reinforce, and sanctify "accepted" behaviour and to exclude or punish those on the
fringes, the vagabond, the criminal, the nouveau riche, and the parvenu.
A fantasy role-playing game is similar, yet different. Players do take on the personae of
mightythewed heroes and clever wizards. They start off as nobodies, and if they are lucky enough
and smart enough to outwit the referee, they can rise to become rich and mighty. This is perhaps
logical for a novel like single adventure, a unique series of events in the lives of the protagonists. But
"They lived happily ever after" is not only one of the least likely statements ever made about real life
or a story purporting to be "realistic," it also just does not apply to fantasy role-playing games. Once
Our Heroes have explored the dungeon, slain the beasties, and scarfed up the treasure, they must go
back to living in the culture, and they must also become men and women of affairs. There is no
social value o being an "adventurer." Real power in any society is based upon wealth, prestige, family
position, and in being the smartest cog in the Establishment's machine.
A man may be the best warrior in the community, but if he wants to progress in the society, he must
achieve some military or political position. He must join an army, work his way up through the
ranks, flatter his superiors, eat great quantities of "humble pie," and wangle promotions when and
how he can. The same is true of the priest: being clever and a wonderful sorcerer won't earn him any
brownie points in the hierarchy. He has to stick to his job, fawn upon his masters, satisfy the needs
of those who have influence in the community, and make sure he holds the correct doctrines. At the
same time both the soldier and the priest have to insure that they will stand out from the herd, be
clever and yet not too eccentric, etc. Cardinal Richelieu did not rise to his exalted position by
flouting the Establishment!
One can really only "adventure" when one is outside of the society, a vagabond, a foreigner, a
"fringe person," in effect a nobody. The real life of such people is not pleasant: who wants to be
hungry, ragged, poor? Who wants to hang around scummy taverns in the slums of a city, fight as a
bodyguard, eat insults from one's social "betters," and suffer all of one's life? Any time such a person
fights back, the society will methodically and impersonally crush him: the prison, the gallows, or just
a quick crack over the head.
On the other hand, it is equally dull to game the logical result of social success. No one would want
to play out the long intervals between a great general's heroic campaigns: the endless bureaucracy,
the filing of papers, the organising of troops, supplies, and staffing, the politicking and the humdrum
social life. The life of a high priest is even more restricted: the accounting of tithes, the
administration, the petty squabbles within the clergy, the worry about finding money for the new
annexe to the temple, the prosaic duties of the rituals, and again the interminable politicking and
boring social life. The same is true of the aristocracy, even dukes and earls and kings, and for every
other socially prestigious class in the culture.
The solution I now employ in my own campaigns is not entirely satisfactory: since it is not too much
fun to be weak and ignoble, and it is just as tedious to sit too high in the halls of the mighty, I tend
The problem with this is that many players are persistent; they have a strong drive to see their
characters succeed to the highest posts, achieve the most unreachable goals, and progress to the very
pinnacle of power. No matter what I do, some players are going to become generals, high priests,
nobles, or what-have-you. (As a referee, of course, I could easily prevent this by wheeling out
"referee's specials" to knock them down every time they got near this status, but I don't think this is
either logical or fair.) Perhaps the best solution is to announce in advance that characters will be
treated like those in a novel: once the Great Adventure is over, the foe defeated, the maiden rescued,
and the treasure won, Our Heroes must ride off into the sunset and "live happily ever after." In
other words, players must "retire" characters whose duties and high social positions logically prevent
them from gallivanting off on "adventures." It is nice to have the fruits of victory and the peace to
enjoy them - but it is boring to play this out. A further method can be devised to allow a player to
"look in" upon a former character from time to time to see how he is progressing. Indeed, if the
game scenario demands that the character reappear, he can be brought back to do so. The Great
Patriarch of the temple can be summoned forth to deal with some new and horrendous sorcerous
threat to the prosperity of the Empire. The High General can take command of all the legions when
a neighbouring nation launches an invasion, etc. These characters can be played either by the referee
or by the original player. (It is rather strange and amusing to imagine one's new character serving as
a private in an army commanded by one's old character! The might commander could glance down
the lines of marching, dusty troops, single out a young face for a moment, and muse, "What a
curious sensation; once I must have been like that boy there...")
Let me now sum up the steps I see as necessary for the creation of a "religion" for a fantasy role-
playing world.
(1) Establish the ecology and economy of the region and in particular the society in which the
religion is practised.
(2) Work out the world-view of the culture: its attitudes towards life, death, right and wrong, success
and failure, final goals - as much as possible.
(3) Develop the culture's conception of the "Supernatural": why it exists, how it works, what sort of
entities it postulates, and what influences it has over men's lives.
(4) Build up the details of the pantheon and mythology (if these exist), fitting them into the
ecological and economic structure.
(5) If the society is "philosophical" in nature, the overall premises of its system must be stated. The
same applies if it is essentially a "mythical" or "materialistic" culture. These features must be tied into
the holistic worldview and with beliefs about the "Supernatural."
(7) Given some basic theological position statements, one can now elaborate upon the physical
manifestations of the "religion": the rituals, the costumes, the architecture of the temples, the
images, the hierarchy of the priesthood, taboos and customs, church history, scriptures and sacred
objects - a whole host of things. Many of these traits will in turn relate to other features: e.g. a
calendar, astronomy, astrology and numerology, tithing systems, class and caste, planting and
harvests, and so forth.
(8) If there is more than one religion (or sect) in the society - and this is often true of societies upon
this planet - then one must return to (4) - or even to (2) and (3) - above and start over.
(9) Differences within each religion or sect must be added: sub-sects, doctrinal disputes or heresies,
conservatives and liberals, prophets and reformers, secret societies and the like. Not only does this
add depth and richness, it also provides opportunities for adventure and the development of
interesting scenarios.
(10) Any "alignments" or grouping of sects must be thoroughly thought through. Is there some
Great Principle which transcends even the gods (and if so, from whence does it stem)? Or are these
alliances and constellations temporary, perhaps based upon the exigencies of politics and self
interest? The societal implications of having two or more antithetical "alignments" operative in the
same society at the same time must be worked out, explained and balanced.
(11) Turning to strictly gaming matters, if the gods of the fantasy creations are assumed to be real
and imminent, and if they play active parts in the character's lives, then one must provide the players
with the details of their demands, likes, dislikes, and especially the rewards and punishments which
can be expected from them.
(12) The nature, use and social ramifications of "magic" must similarly be detailed for those playing
in the campaign. How does "sorcery" work? What can it do? What is the social and political position
of the sorcerer within the culture?
(13) The problem of "individual independence" for player characters affects priests and warriors
alike - anybody, in fact, who desires to achieve recognition and status within the culture. One can
design a very loosely structured society, or one can ignore the whole issue and say, "It is a game."
Neither of these views is very satisfactory. It seems better to build methods of dealing with this
problem into the rules themselves, as suggested above.
As a final example, let me suggest how a particularly knotty "Supernatural" problem might be
"explained" through a more detailed world-view and a set of theological-supernatural assumptions.
Suppose that a designer wants to use the game device of "intelligent" weapons in his campaign:
swords, maces, etc. which have intellects, egos, and even magical spells all their own. Depending
upon his initial basic premises, this feature can be made to fit into the system without difficulty. Let
us look at a few examples of "worldview models":
(2) Model B holds that the spirits of the dead remain in this world after death, staying in close
proximity to objects which they valued in life. The weapon is thus inhabited by a powerful personal
"ghost."
(3) Model C has no "Mana" and no "ghosts," but it assumes the existence of nonhuman races, some
of which dwell in specific locales (e.g. water pixies, tree dryads). A "sword person" now becomes no
more than a species of entities which makes it's home in steel weapons, perhaps gaining sustenance
from the blood of the weapon's victims.
(4) Model D exhibits a complex pantheon of greater and lesser deities, supernatural minor races
("angels" and "demons," etc.); all one needs is a magic system which can imprison a lesser entity
within a weapon and keep him there.
(5) Model E presents two great antithetical Principles. These appear to mankind as personalised,
imminent "gods." In their eternal war against one another, each Principle has directly created
powerful instruments to aid its supporters in this plan. These tools and weapons have been given
"personae" in order to make them immediately intelligible to the lesser races for whom they are
intended, and they are keyed to react hostilely if used by a follower of the opposite Principle. (One
ramification of this might be that there are weapons attuned only to mankind, others only to
dwarves or trolls or what-have-you, and still others made to be used by other supernatural sub-
entities. Characters would then have to be extremely careful of handling strange weapons!)
(6) Model F displays none of the above. In this world "magic" is a natural force with its own laws.
There are no "real" supernatural beings, and life after death is only assumed but not demonstrable.
An advanced sorcerer can transfer the personality patterns of a living being into certain substances,
however, through the use of his magical "science."
(7) Model G is similar to the foregoing except more "science-fiction-y": there is now no magic and
no "real" supernatural. The same effect can be obtained, nevertheless, through pseudo-scientific
"explanations": electronic circuitry, gadgets, and "Science."
(8) Model H is the least tractable of all. It postulates an omnipotent, omniscient God who is innately
"Good" (whatever that means from one place and time in history to another?). The very existence of
"Evil" in such a universe is unexplainable, much less the need for "intelligent" weapons and other
bric-a-brac. If God is "Good," why does he permit "Evil" to exist and oppose Him? One can argue
that God created "Evil" to "test" mankind (a thoroughly anthropocentric notion), or one can beg
the question and say that the purposes of the Almighty are unknowable and inscrutable to us, His
limited creations. If God is all-powerful and all-knowing, He must know how the results of his "test"
will come out - and so forth. The important point relevant to our problem is that if man has direct,
hot-line access to God through prayer - and if God is "Good" (i.e. on mankind's side essentially) -
then what need is there of physical devices: weapons, crucifixes, talismans, holy water, and the like?
On this one I pass. Go ask your friendly neighbourhood theologian.
All through this article it is understood that I am addressing the designers and players of fantasy
role-playing games for adults. Such games can be excellent teaching devices for children, and it is
obvious that products meant for younger players must simplify the "realities," make the world a little
more clearly identifiable black and white, and ignore the intricacies. My remarks here are meant for
those who are interested in more elaborate simulations.
Unfortunately, "realism" goes only as far as our own specialised fields of knowledge. I still cannot
get my great flying creatures to obey the laws of aerodynamics. Nor can I explain how the
inhabitants of my "dungeons" manage to dwell in such harmony with one another without any
visible means of sustenance except the odd party of player characters which chances their way. For
some, it has been a long time between snacks. I hope to see what others have thought of these and
many more problems. That is what makes a forum for ideas so useful to all of us. It is pleasant to be
able to lay aside the endless details, elaborations, and superstructures upon superstructures of the
"house" gaming magazines and consider some of our basic assumptions, We'll all probably create
and play better for it.