In my most recent article, I spent a lot of time talking about the pitfalls of railroading, and how the best D&D campaigns center the players. The advantages of this strategy from the Game Master’s point of view are many and varied. Your players will be more invested. You’ll have more fun running the game. The party will start to see your world as one they can impact, instead of merely observing. You get the idea. But I’m not here to belabor that point. Instead, we’re going to concern ourselves with the “how.”
Get your Players Involved at Square One
Ah, the beginning of Session Zero, the moment when all things are possible. The world’s your oyster, the sky’s the limit, and for this one brief, shining moment literally anything is possible.
Your very first step is to ask everyone what kind of campaign they’re after. Maybe one player wants something silly and light hearted, while another wants something dark and gritty. Maybe one wants Game of Thrones style political intrigue and another wants to play murder hobos. These options are not all mutually exclusive, and you don’t need to make any final decisions right here, but it’s a good idea to start with a quick talk of what people want. You should include a game plan of your own here, too. The purpose being, get everyone on the same page, or at least comfortable with each other’s pages.
Next up, characters! Whether your players are gregarious extroverts or shy introverts, or any combination of the two they’re going to have designs on this campaign. Sure, their designs might be, “I wanna hang out and eat chips.” That’s entirely possible, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Maybe they want nothing more than to get their hands on a flying castle. I’m guilty of that one every single time I play. Or, they might have a fully fleshed out OC (Original Character, for the uninitiated), complete with tragic backstory, amnesia, a kidnapped royal lover, and a powerful Wizard King nemesis who’s banished them from the realm on pain of death. Even better!
Now I won’t lie to you, this last one has a number of pitfalls you’ll want to be cognizant of (more on that later), but it also gives you the most to work with. Where is this kingdom she’s banished from? Are you in it now, or is it a land obligatorily far, far away? What is the nature of this kidnapped royal lover? How did this hero get amnesia? Why does this Wizard King hate her so much? All of these questions have answers, and those answers will help you to flesh out the world. The best part is, you don’t have to do anything with this right away. You can wait for it to grow organically, or build up to it, or (better yet) have other party members discover it. The options are limitless.
Delegate World Building to the Party
Beyond the Wall and Other Adventures turned me on to this delightful little tactic and I’ve made use of it in every game I’ve ever run since. There are a number of ways to play it out, but the most basic method is that you pass around a piece of paper while everyone creates their characters. Each party member must draw a building onto the paper and declare its purpose to the home village. Assure your players that they are not being judged for artistic ability. A stick figure house is fine. Once they’re finished, pass it on until everyone has had a chance to add something.
Pass the paper (I suppose it’s a map now) around again. This time, players add in physical features and geography to the map. It could be a road, or a river, or an arrow pointing off saying “desert.” Anything’s fine. Just like they put buildings up around the village, now they’re fleshing out the surrounding, and intervening countryside.
On the next loop, have each player add in an NPC, along with their role in the village, and relationship to the player. They can use any of the buildings or land features for inspiration. Other players should feel encouraged to participate. Maybe one player decides that the mayor is their adoptive parent, and another player wants to be the mayor’s brother. That’s awesome. Now they have a familial relationship to play out. Repeat this process until everyone feels connected to the local geography, institutions, people, and the rest of the party.
Congratulations, you’ve just baked-in party buy-in on a home village. Have the village NPCs send the heroes on quests. Kidnap their favorite villager along with a gaggle of the local children. Threaten the town with whatever you like from goblins to dragons. The party is sure to come running. Make them choose between returning home to save their friends and family or completing the grand quest they’re currently on. Do any, all, or none of these things. The possibilities are endless.
Don’t be Afraid to Set Things up Outside of the Game
Let’s say you want to use an element of a player’s backstory for an upcoming session. There are a number of ways to approach this. One option is to plan it out on your own, and surprise the party with it. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it runs the risk of stepping on that player’s toes. What if you materially alter the character’s backstory in a way the player didn’t envision?
The solution here is wonderfully simple. Talk to your players outside of the game sessions. Ask them to fill in details around their character’s history, motivations, and drives so you don’t ruin their vision with your plans. You don’t need to tell them what’s coming, especially if you want the surprise to land. Just tease out the details surrounding your goals. People love talking about their characters, and the hopes they have for them. Use this to your advantage. At worst you’ll avoid wrecking your players’ carefully curated story, and at best you’ll get a couple of sweet details that you can exploit later to raise the tension.
Another option here that falls into the category of “outside” conversations is setting things up with other party members. Perhaps critical information about one player falls into the hands of another. It can be a wonderful tactic to foist exposition on the players rather than having to take it all on yourself. It could be something as simple as a letter, delivered to the wizard about the ranger. It could also be a long conversation between a bounty hunter and the paladin. It could be an informal talk between you and a player off set, or roleplayed at the table (or over voice chat). There are no wrong answers here.
Yes, you should know your player’s stories well enough that you don’t accidentally ruin their narrative. The other players deserve to know enough to do the same. The caveat here, of course, is to make sure that you’re not leaking anyone’s secrets. That needs to happen during gameplay.
Potential Pitfalls
At this point I hope there is no doubt in your mind that player participation in the campaign is important, but it can also go too far. Unless you’re playing a game like Fiasco, where everyone is sharing the responsibilities of Game Master, you’re going to need to have the final say on the realities of the world. While we certainly want our players to help craft that world, there are some things players might do that stretch the bounds of credulity. Should our players be able to rewrite the landscape during combat? My answer to that would be a resounding, “No.” That is, unless they have some sort of in game spell/power that lets them do as such.
A player should be given a large amount of leeway when it comes to their own history, motivations, and past actions, but there needs to be a clear boundary beyond which they’re just a normal person. You don’t want the party to stray into the territory of Game Master without either a very good reason and/or an extremely limited purview. They might not just foil your plans, it could harm other party members, too.
Another way you’ll need to exercise your veto powers as Game Master is if one player’s story starts to contradict, or overwrite another player’s. Every player at the table has a story to tell, and it’s your job as GM to help them do that. You aren’t the only one who can steamroll a player character’s narrative goals, other party members could do it, too. Keep an eye out for this, and if you see or anticipate it happening, step in. Being a referee is also part of the job description.
You’ll notice that most of the examples I gave for curating player input were heavily structured. Leaving party input open ended can lead to a “too many cooks in the kitchen” situation. A way to keep to this, while including their input would be to use narrow prompts. Ask them to help describe a new NPC’s look and demeanor. Ask them how they know the bounty hunter who’s just tracked them down. By intentionally creating the spaces your players can help with world building, you’ll keep them engaged, tap into their creative powers, and avoid the dangers of having too many cooks.
A Final Word
So, there you have it. Go forth with these tools, and strategies and drag your players into the work of world building. I promise it will be rewarding. The look on your players’ faces alone when you send an angry giant crashing through the gates of their perfectly curated village will be worth it. If you’ve ever wanted to see your friends desperately burn through all their resources, cling to every die roll with rabid abandon, and scream in triumph and/or despair, this method is for you. Ask them to help build the world. Have them feed it, tend it, and watch it grow. Then, threaten everything they’ve built with annihilation. I promise you, they’ll do the rest.