A Hero's Place in the World
Logic and Proportionality
Piety: The Knights of the Round Table about to Depart in Quest of the Holy Grail by William Dyce
Can a small group of friends single-handedly save the world? Did these reluctant heroes discover dormant, reality-bending powers just in the nick of time? It’s not to say that heroes can’t emerge from unexpected places, but haven’t we seen this movie many times before?
Why is it that the powers that be who have shaped and dominated the world now clumsily step aside for the upstarts?
Creating immersion is about establishing logic and proportionality. A quick test of this premise is the question — are the characters of the world, or, is the world specifically curated for the main characters’ maximum benefit?
ASCENDANCE
I thought I would expand upon the Dungeons & Dragons example from The Plausibility of Time and how emergent heroes can be placed in, or near, the center of action.
In The Plausibility of Time, I emphasized the distinction between “time to plan” and “just enough time to react.”
So, how do we contextualize the increasing influence of the main characters and get them connected to the powers that be as the story continues?
In the example, the rag-tag bunch of heroes should not be the only people assigned to battle D&D’s epitome of all dragons. The heroes should be one of tens of thousands (or hundreds of thousands) who must be rallied to defeat Tiamat’s evil forces. If Tiamat can be beat by four enterprising upstarts, then what was everyone worried about in the first place?
How about this instead?
Barely escaping with their lives after the vanguard of Tiamat’s forces charged through the dimensional portal, the party of heroes sought refuge in the nearest royal stronghold. They convince the garrison to let them in because they have eye witness information about recent events. While being interrogated by the garrison’s wizard, the party themselves start to piece together that they had early warning about the portal’s emergence.
One of the members of the team sensed the portal before it opened. Well, sort of. The party’s spellbinder complained of a headache or other ailments before the physical appearance of the portal — and was complaining about the headache, not just a few moments before the portal opened, but from the time the group entered the city or sat down in the market square tavern.
Perhaps this connection is initially rebuffed by the garrison’s wizard who is disdainful of the party’s trifling capabilities. The royal wizards have been caught unaware by the portals. Their capabilities are being questioned, not just within royal circles, but by society at large. The wizards want to resolve the problem and demonstrate their mastery. To acknowledge the possibility that someone unheralded, someone not in their ranks, could lend a hand or has critical information is not something they want to consider now. (Maybe some royal wizards are in league with Tiamat and therefore suppressing or discounting independent information is all the more vital.)
The members of the party, contemplating their next moves, whether to leave the area, whether to stay and fight for the royal forces that rebuffed them, discover the ethereal remains of another portal while traveling on what they think is a safe road. While not understanding the construction or full powers of the portal, a member of the party (or more than one) can at least detect their presence. Eventually the royal wizards are willing to hear the party out as the danger and number of portals escalate.
So, we do have a small group. We do have an emergent talent. Both are contextualized in the world. A party member has a unique skill. A party member can add another piece of the puzzle, but by no means can the party consider confronting the threat themselves. As with codebreaking in World War II, it was incredibly helpful, but the battles still needed to be fought… and won.
Joan captured by the Burgundians at Compiègne by Jules-Eugène Lenepveu
ROUND TABLE FOR FOUR?
A kingdom has summoned four adventurers to deal with an existential threat.
The king and queen rule over a million subjects, a standing army, a coterie of wizards, but need the help of a modest band of adventurers?
Situations like this can skew proportionality and break the immersion of a setting. The story may still be a fun ride, but being along for the ride is something different than being immersed in a story and setting.
How to make this premise plausible?
Whatever the quest, it is almost certain death. It’s too risky or politically unwise for the royals to send members of their personal retinue. Perhaps a rag-tag, down-on-its-luck party is crazy and hungry enough to take such a high-risk, high-reward offer.
(This would mean that the quest is not existential to the kingdom. If it were of such importance, no resource would be spared.)
Or, the royal faction appears to be at its end — it is fighting for survival. Beset by enemies on all sides and internal strife, the beleaguered king and queen are eager to enlist any and all adventurers to their cause who are willing to declare their loyalty. Now, desperately seeking help from any quarter makes perfect sense.
What other explanations come to mind for you?
Meteor of 1860 by Frederic Church
METEOR SHOWER
I think this would be a cool premise for a story or TTRPG campaign.
Wizards, astronomers, diviners are anticipating a meteor shower to take place in a certain region. They have scoured the old texts, teased out clues from the ancient sagas, studied centuries of star charts, or observed portents in the heavens — and in their own unique and esoteric ways have come to the same conclusion.
The meteors are known to contain incredibly rare elements. Their value for magical and metallurgical endeavors cannot be overstated.
Would an intrepid adventuring team of four or five members be enough to secure fragments of a meteor?
As Tom Hardy’s character remarked in Inception, “You mustn’t be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling.”
Given the value of these treasure troves, just one adventuring party wouldn’t be going to an area. Many nations and polities would be sending treasure hunters (overtly or covertly). Given the ability of these powerful factions to equip search parties, a team of just a handful of adventurers would be woefully lacking. Expedition necessities would include people and resources assigned to transportation, supply, protection, in addition to pathfinders (or aerial spotters) and specialists to find the choicest bits of space rock.
Finding the precious treasures is one thing; getting them out and back to home base is quite another. Forging alliances or avoiding other questers would be more than half the battle.
To manage the complexity, how could we limit the number of interested parties?
The bulk of the meteors could land in remote or unforgiving areas. Some meteors sink to the bottom of a shallow sea or crash into part of the planet with a very inhospitable climate, terrain, or local flora and fauna. These factors scare off some factions or make them reconsider the likelihood of return on investment for such a costly expedition.
So, what about the main characters for this story or TTRPG adventure? The characters are the whole reason we’re going about this worldbuilding business, right? Instead of venturing off in a group that you could count on one hand, how about these options?
The heroes are the lead elements of the scouting party — charting a path through the jungle.
The heroes are alchemists and sorcerers who must ascertain the quality of the rocks — knowing that only a certain amount can be transported back given the weight.
The heroes are part of the rear guard — inexperienced soldiers of fortune who draw the short straw and must protect the back of the column against lurking creatures or other observing factions.
The main characters are grounded in the world and still have an important role to play. And, with the cut-throat competition for these celestial resources, what even greater heroics will be required as the story unfolds?
CLOSING THOUGHTS
Grounded premises and logic create nuance, richer characters, and immersion. In the tumult and upheaval, new heroes can rise.
Are the characters of the world, or, is the world specifically curated for the main characters’ maximum benefit? Put another way — where is the gravitational pull — with the characters or with the circumstances of the world?
Share your thoughts in the comments.
This idea makes a lot of sense. What you describe would add tremendous context and create an engaging storyline because it is airtight and much more plausible. The question is, how much more plausible do stories need to be? Maybe cultural factors are at play. For example, in the U.S. many people have the hero’s spirit or a sense of exceptionality. They feel (or imagine they feel) the hand of destiny pushing them to great things. The hero’s narrative is everywhere one looks: from Marvel movies, to reality TV, to sports, to the Wall Street Journal…
With this in mind, maybe the stories that are read and told to those in cultures as described above need less context for them to be immersive. I can imagine for many people you could tell them, “you are the hero from prophecy, destined for greatness,” and they’d be like, “finally, someone understands me, let’s go!” No more context needed. This is an extreme example, and is more likely to happen at a gaming table than while reading a book. Point is, maybe some audiences don’t need so much context for a story to be immersive. Popular works like Harry Potter, James Bond, and even Homer’s Odyssey all require a large degree of suspension of disbelief. I guess what I’m saying is that some media (books, movies, TTRPGs, video games, etc.) do not need logic and proportionality. They just need to resonate with and capture the imagination of the intended audience. With that said, there are many different types of audiences, and many are unsatisfied with the contextual handwaving that can be improved by following the guidance in this post.