In the first volume of Lord of the Rings, the Fellowship begins its dangerous trek to Mordor. The first major obstacle is to cross the Misty Mountains; after much deliberation, the party decides to make for the pass of Caradhras. But the Redhorn is no ordinary mountain. From the moment they step above the foothills, the wind and snow oppose the group, the cold like needles or clawing hands tearing at them, pushing them back. In the end, Caradhras the Cruel defeats the Fellowship, and they must brave the dark road through Moria.
I’m not mentioning this anecdote just to point out how awesome Lord of the Rings is (though feel free to agree with that sentiment). Instead, I’d like to discuss how a storyteller can use the setting itself as a character, with its own will and personality. When a player takes up the mantle of the DM, it can be difficult to suddenly not have a constant voice in the story. New DMs often create powerful NPCs, on par with (or worse, superior to) the adventurers themselves. It’s not necessarily bad, but the heroes can sometimes feel a little cheated that they just have to sit and watch while the NPC Gandalf is doing all the cool stuff. The truth is, the players are the protagonists, which means they get to be the most important characters. But the DM has plenty of other options. Aside from a diverse cast of sidekicks, villains, and colorful peasantry, the narrator gets one of the most influential of voices: that of the surrounding world.
A setting is more than a location. It can evoke feeling, influencing the actions and impressions of the adventurers. It can even have a will of its own. In the original version of D&D, the dungeon was considered to be a mythic underworld that outright resented the heroes’ intrusion. Take this excerpt from The Underworld and Wilderness Adventures, the third core book for OD&D:
“Generally, doors will not open by turning the handle or by a push. Doors must be forced open by strength […] Most doors will automatically close, despite the difficulty in opening them. Doors will automatically open for monsters[.]”
Unfair? Certainly! But that’s because the heroes are out of their element, in an alien environment that wishes them ill. Like Caradhras, the setting itself is pushing back against the adventurers. And sometimes the environment is so potent and intriguing a foe that you don’t even need a villain. In my Maze of Madness OD&D game, no party has ever found the minotaur lord at the center of the maze. Instead, their chief enemy is the maze itself, and opposing it has been such ridiculous fun that players keep coming back.
So how can you use this notion in your own game? Take a look at your setting, the locations (and time periods) in which your story takes place. If you just have a list of details and sensory descriptions, look deeper. What kind of personality does the town have? What might the forest want, in its ancient, enchanted heart? How does the haunted mine react to interlopers? Even a few quick ideas can color your descriptions, instantly creating a distinct atmosphere for your players to discover. If the town itself is secretive and suspicious, your players might end up in Innsmouth. If the forest wants revenge against encroaching civilization, the heroes could be traveling through the Old Forest near the Shire. If the haunted mine is hungry, then going down into the deeper levels may be far simpler than getting back out. Develop your setting as you would your NPCs, and you’ll create a deeper narrative for your players. And you might find that your dwarven berserker was nowhere near as fun to play as Caradhras.
