Landmarks through Windows

Establishing tabletop settings that are connective and grounding with binding points.

Aug 14, 2024

The Player-Character-World Trifecta

The player, the character, and the world are three elements that should constantly interact. How will a character feel when trapped between three living, expanding calcium boulders? What does the player contribute to the world when a memory is needed to escape? How will the character’s actions change every time they pass the ravine that once held them captive?

To create meaningful stakes in a setting, players need to be active participants in their story. A Game Master (GM) can facilitate this by asking questions about actions, memories, and emotions. Typically, this is a one-sided process, but in more collaborative campaigns, players take the initiative to perform these actions, contribute backstory, and even influence the worldbuilding. Here, trust between the GM and players is crucial—they understand the nuances of roleplaying, the boundaries of the world, and the importance of sharing the creative workload without overshadowing the characters' agency.

Landmarks and Structure

Landmarks act as gravity-wells, drawing in missions and station. A setting provides locations rich with flavor; some of these may be tied to the plot (like buildings of coral harvested from the sea god beneath), while others exist simply to let the world breathe. Allow room for players to contribute to the setting in ways that don’t interfere with the established plot. They can add details—damages in the rafters, secrets in the basements, or connections their character has to the place. If a location is just a waypoint, players can imbue it with purpose beyond the GM’s plans.1

Landmarks, like any dynamic scene, should evolve. They can remain iconic while changing over time. Monuments are never static; they reflect and absorb new symbols, critiques, and cultural shifts. They are meant to be engaged with.

Windows and Mirrors

Imagine a spire in town, easily visible from the window of your grandmother’s cottage. Early in the story, it symbolizes safety—a haven for the good folk of the kingdom. But months later, during a lunch at the cottage, the players hear alarm bells. Illusionary hummingbirds vanish, and through the window, they see a violet light surround the spire. Someone has taken the kingdom.

Landmarks that are only mentioned as players enter or leave town become background noise, easily forgotten. Use them as meeting points, mysteries, or seasonal highlights. The top tower of the castle might not matter — unless perhaps the characters used this space to speak with the house sages.2 A dried-up lake means little, but the sight of Mr. Mahoganee’s boat, now cracked on the rocks, holds emotional weight. This boat once carried the party to the forbidden harbor; this beach hides goblin skeletons beneath its sands. Players have history here, and witnessing change evokes a response. Windows are glimpses into the world, highlighting surroundings and landmarks, saving the focus for when the moment is right.

In a sci-fi campaign, the transport chamber has always been reliable, effortlessly dropping the party planet-side to tackle monster-of-the-week problems. But after the last mission, when only half the team made it through before annihilation, the transport bay’s window now shows something different. What does Sir Isan Windfall see in that inky void? What keeps him from teleporting back home? What forces him to stay and continue the mission?

Mirrors are reflections of your character’s motivations, moments of introspection after an encounter. A mirror can crack, and with it, so might your character’s resolve.

In any thoughtful art form, windows and mirrors allow the audience to explore the world and see themselves within it.3

Balancing Trust and Reflections

A landmark can always provide these windows and mirrors. Every scratch on its surface tells a story, offering opportunities for connection and repair. However, avoid dwelling too long on these details—there’s no need to reference the kobolds’ tragic past every time they walk down a hallway. A mention of the hallway is enough; the players and characters will remember the events. They can choose to look out the window and into a mirror, or simply pass through. The players might have camped in a crumbling lighthouse by the sea, discussed their goals, and moved on to the next mission. Their tears and arrows might not leave visible marks on the bricks, but they know what transpired there, even without constant reminders.

As players venture out, try to maintain a consistent flavor in your descriptions of the environment as you did to the landmark locations. This not only sets the stage for future landmarks but also highlights the remnants of the past, creating a sense of unfamiliarity. They’ll see claw marks on trees and know they’re no longer home. But on their return, they might find solace in the spire, the cottage, and the cookies—one can hope. Yet, even with these landmarks as touchstones,

home will always look a little different.

Session Zero and Session Fifteen

Finally, consider using outside tools to draw players in. Map-making games like The Quiet Year help establish a town and let it grow organically. To Care is to Cairn creates artifacts steeped in history and lore. The Last Step provides alien discourse on already alien worlds. These games can serve as a session zero to collaboratively define the tone of the campaign, involving everyone in creating a universe they’ll explore together. But these growth points don’t have to be limited to session zero. As players enter a significant city or discover a key item, map-based systems can deepen their connection to the story’s foundations.

In Summary

When players have multiple encounters near the same spaces and landmarks, they connect to the world and feel more involved.
You may include windows into these spaces from other locations to help ground the player, and use these moments as opportunities for character reflection.
Build trust between players by allowing them to further worldbuild the waypoints when they are not contingent to your plans.

For further reading on connecting players through the creation of physical keepsakes, check out Shing Yin Khor’s work on keepsakes and connected path games. Next week The Holistic Dice will cover hive minds, and how they can be incorporated into game design.

The Holistic Dice