Religion
in most fantasy settings, and therefore most fantasy RPGs, sucks.
I
don't mean it morally sucks. It might well be portrayed as wicked. On
the other hand, all those Lawful Good clerics running around the
Forgotten Realms seem alright. What I mean is this: the portrayal of
religion sucks. This isn't just a problem unique to fantasy or RPGs,
of course, but it's particularly notable when we play games wherein
divine power is a mechanical fact.
Religion
in most fantasy RPG settings is entirely inorganic. It is pasted on.
There is often a vague pantheonism, with a number of gods knocking
around acting as patrons to different clerics or paladins. That's
their main function, in fact – gods exist in most D&D settings
(for example) so that there is some sort of patron to whom your
heroic paladin can swear an oath. As a secondary purpose, it's great
to have a shrine of Lathander or whatever where you can go get healed
– or perhaps get a quest to kill some kobolds.
Of
course, aside from the divinely-backed PCs, no other character pays
any attention to religion in most of these games. Religion isn't a
major part of the texture of the game. In one way, this is fine, if
it's fine for your game; who cares, right? But if there's any attempt
at simulationism – as there is many OSR settings, and which is a
sort of prerequisite for the massive worldbuilding projects
undertaken by so many DMs and players over the years – then it's
weird that one of the great concerns of actual people both past and
present is so poorly presented. Throw some generic pantheonistic gods
(“one god of thunder, hmm, now I need a goddess of death”) in a
pot, stick some temples in your town, and you're done. Maybe people
go there to pray for something. Who cares? Save your energy for your
complex numismatic system and the detailed history of the orcs in the
mountain.
I
think there are probably two broad reasons for this. The FIRST
is the simple fact that many fantasy writers and readers/players have
little personal sympathy with organised religion. Yes, most people
who have ever lived have engaged with organised religion, largely
with some degree of sincerity; but most Westerners now are at least
sceptical if not outright antagonistic, and it is Westerners,
largely, who write and consume the material under discussion. This
trend is likely to be more pointed in the fantasy RPG genre itself,
given the alt-culture traditions involved. (There's an interesting
historical essay for someone to write about that – the ways in
which the conservative sources of Tolkien and wargaming melded with
the more ambiguous Vance/Howard tradition to create the ingredients
of the Satanic Panic.) What this means in practice is that religion
in fantasy settings is often either strictly functional (“it powers
clerics”), or where developed in any way still misses the essence
of religious development and observance as it actually exists. It's
hard to see how the religions in certain fantasy worlds could come to
exist or gather and keep followers thereafter. It may, of course, be
that we conclude people are religious due to fear or foolishness or
whatever other negative motive; even in that case, if we want some
degree of reality in our settings, we have to consider what the
believer themselves thinks they are doing and why. No-one thinks they're a sucker. No-one thinks they're backing an objectively evil lunatic cult. We might even
concede that they may know their own heart better than us.
The
SECOND reason religion in fantasy RPG settings struggles is, I
think, simply the force of cliché. Gygax put together a wonky
pantheon (with saints, too) as the pulpy religious context of
Greyhawk's relatively simplistic setting. It worked for him.
Greenwood did something similar, with a little more nuance, in his
fantastically overwritten Realms. There's some certainly some
memorable stuff there (if nothing else, from the Baldur's Gate PC
game!). The religion of the Realms and of Greyhawk leave me cold, for
the first reason given above, but I won't deny that they have cool
bits or have been greatly enjoyable for many players over time. Their
effect, though, is deadening; to give an example of a better work
with a similar effect on the genre, look at Tolkien. T.S. Eliot
remarked that Shakespeare and Milton accomplished the same for verse
drama and epic poetry, respectively – Hamlet
and Paradise Lost made
it more or less impossible for others to write top-tier examples of
the form for centuries afterwards! It's not simply about the gap in
quality; it's also that much in the genre thereafter looks too much
to the great conquering work, or relies too much on its tropes and
themes without carrying across its originality or energy.
We
have that in many RPG fantasy settings. Gygax and Greenwood created
the most notable RPG settings from the first two decades of the genre
existing; they naturally loom over all subsequent work. It's hard
for later writers to get out from under them.
I'm
going to go a bit rogue, and save my two points of “advice” -
that is, two broad principles to follow when constructing fantasy
religions – for the end. First, I'm going to give a few examples of
some settings which manage to (partially or fully) escape the trap of
sub-Greenwoodist religion – that is, religions which no actual
person would practise, and which largely exist to fill the
religion-shaped gap in a setting. To start with, let's look at two
examples which solve the problem by bypassing or reframing it.
ONE.
Dark Sun.
A post-apocalyptic D&D setting from the mid-90s where overuse of
magic has ravaged the environment and most of the world is ruled by
evil sorcerer-kings. The pantheonic gods are dead, and worship is now
directed either to the sorcerer-kings or, in a more pantheistic
manner, the world itself. Of course, there are still pantheonic gods,
so the question of how and why people used to worship them is open,
but it's irrelevant to the setting. Religion here is either the
“false religion” of the sorcerer-kings, or a vague and
nonspecifically positive environmentalist worship. We can see a
philosophical juxtaposition here – organised religion in the hands
of power vs 1990s hippieism. It may not be in some respects a
convincing account of religion – except that it does communicate
something quite sincere about the beliefs of many who might play in
the setting. Religion is still painted broad-brush, is still
unnuanced as an account of actual beliefs, but has a degree of
vibrancy and vigour lacking from most Realms-clones.
TWO.
Anomalous Subsurface
Environment (ASE). A
science-fantasy gonzo setting coming out of OSD D&D. Really great
fun. The three main religious groupings presented are Cthulhu
cultists, a demi-Catholic church that actually worships and loves
(but does not at all understand) science, and the Orbital Gods –
satellite AIs capable of blessing their followers in return for
worship. This moves strongly away from cliché and immediately
excites the imagination. There is a pantheon – but of artificial
intelligences with no reasonable right to worship. This is a satire,
of course, and one that connects into the wider setting well. This
reframes the problem of cliché fantasy religion by making fun of it.
That's just fine, and enjoyable – but it doesn't offer a solution
to those who want their fantasy religion to be as simulational as
they want other elements of their world to be.
Dark
Sun removes the gods and substitutes, at a fairly nominal level, a
religious landscape that likely matches some of the authors and
certainly many of the readers/players. ASE parodies the traditional
RPG religious tropes. Neither of these offer a textured view of
religion's role in a world, nor do they consider the interior life of
the (presumably numerous) people in those worlds who are religious. I
can't remember a Dark Sun product with a warm and generous NPC who
loved her sorcerer-king sincerely and deeply and in a rather
admirable way, but found her own decent nature clashing with her
rather impressive (if ill-founded) faith when it comes to the
treatment of slaves assigned to her; or another who had a serious
regard for “Mother Athas” but considered using massively
environmentally destructive magic to defeat the bad guys.
There
are other settings which address the question more holistically –
that is, in a way that appeals to the simulationist (and religious
person) in me. They do so because they address questions rarely
addressed seriously in other settings (how do religious structures
and beliefs form? and why do serious people hold them?), and do so in
a sympathetic manner – actually interested in the beliefs and their
holders in themselves.
Some
honorary mentions before I offer some detailed examples. Brandon
Sanderson's fantasy fiction includes about the most thoughtful
representation of religion in the modern genre that I know. As a way
of understanding human ethical standpoints, the Path system in the
Vampire: The Masquerade is surprisingly robust (your vampire has a
code, usually that of “Humanity” but sometimes something
stranger; holding to the code prevents you from becoming a mindless
beast; your character gains or loses points in it based on whether
their actions match up to it). The Underdark societies outlined in
Patrick Stuart's Veins of the Earth
have compelling and engaging philosophies that are coherent on their
own terms, if mostly relentlessly (and fittingly) dark.
The
two examples I have in mind of good practise, however, go a little
further than Vampire or Veins,
and are embedded in actual gameplay, unlike Sanderson.
THREE.
Dolmenwood.
Dolmenwood is a fantastic setting, largely set out in the Wormskin
'zine (with a campaign guide book coming soon). It's a Jonathan
Strange and Mr Norrell kind of
setting, heavy on British folklore and the Faery mythos. There are
two things that are particularly praiseworthy about Dolmenwood in
respect of religion, aside from the exceptionally good writing: (1)
it's part of the texture of everyday life, and is written as such;
the stand-in for the Catholic Church (which is even described as
such) has churches and monasteries which fulfil particular functions
in people's life, which are embedded in their communities, which you
can imagine the populace congregating at, which you can see PCs
feeling some sort of tie to. Meanwhile, the weird local mystical
groupings fit into their own zones of influence, with the mysterious
sect of the Drune having a coherent philosophy and naturally fitting
into the setting. There's even a serious consideration given to their
family life! (2) The motives of those who might practise a religion
are comprehensible, and the beings (real or imagined) they worship or
follow or deal with resemble real gods and godlings, with
authentic-sounding mythologies (where even Corellon and Gruumsh, one
of the better examples from the Realms, is a bit sterile and
formulaic). I think particularly of the witches and their forest-gods
in this respect – though more of a cultic sect than an ordinary
mass religion, the witches' mystic beliefs are both original and
fresh (to me) but also resonant of real mystery religions and
lesser-known pagan faiths. To give some two short examples from
Dolmenwood #8, when
discussing the forest-gods:
The
gods of the witches are entities that have dwelt on the astral
fringes of Dolmenwood since the dawn of time. They are seemingly a
manifestation of the spirit of the forest itself (or, seen the other
way around, the forest is perhaps a physical manifestation of the
gwyrigons). Though it is impossible to truly comprehend the
motivations of such entities, they in some way feed off of the
connection that witches establish with them.
…
Limwdd
the Quiet Brother: Has dominion over stasis, growth, and
rejuvenation. Limwdd is associated with seeds and the depths of the
earth. Witches bound to this wood-god can feel the pulse of its
energy in the ground when walking barefoot. Limwdd’s primary locus
is in hex 1006 (see Wormskin issue 6).
FOUR.
Against The Wicked City.
The star of the show, to me – also, generally an excellent setting,
and FREE. Find it in the links on the sidebar. In Against The Wicked
City, there are a couple of ways religion is presented – in
individual sections on a given group, and via a big random generator
chart for “Religions of the Great Road”. The idea of the latter
is to offer a way of finding innumerable peculiar grouplets, echoing
its real world inspiration of Central Asian religion.
For
the former, let us consider the official religion of the Wicked City,
the Way of Light, which follows the Full Moon Sage. It was once a
popular religion in every sense of that word, but has long been
corrupted and hollowed out by the endemic and incipient banal evil of
the Wicked King's state apparatus. To quote:
Barely
anyone keeps idols of the Full Moon Sage in their homes any more. For
them, her image has been irrevocably tainted by its association with
the hated regime which rules over them: a regime which has turned her
church into simply another system for indoctrination and the
extraction of taxes. Regular purges of the clergy by the Secret
Police have served to eliminate almost all the real believers,
ensuring that her current priesthood consists largely of people who
bought their way in because they thought that the embezzlement
opportunities offered by their new clerical ranks looked like a sound
financial investment. Their huge, gaudy temples stand empty,
abandoned by the crowds that once flocked to them on every feast day
and fast day. The idea that anyone might go to them for actual
spiritual guidance would be viewed by most of the city's inhabitants
as little more than a bad joke.
There
is a hint here of something promising; yes, it's another Eeeeevil
state religion, but by dint of a particular set of historical events.
Other settings see the Eeeeeevil state religion as a Platonic state;
it's organised religion, which means it's evil by nature and exists
to support established power. Here we see that actual motives and
sincere belief are part of religious practice, and that historical
development affects religion – not as an “evolutionary” force,
but as a fact. This texture is followed through by a d20 table of
things priests might be found doing. So there are
results which highlight the corruption of the clergy and church:
“Taking
advantage of the fact that this is a holy day, when every respectable
citizen in this part of the city needs to show their face in the
temple, to harvest 'donations' from their captive audience.” or
“Carrying
out creepy rituals designed to terrify new initiates into obedience.
Darkness, masks, flames, blades, blood, chanting men in black robes -
the works.”
But others hint at something else: “Actually
reading the scriptures for once, and getting increasingly worried by
what they find in them.”
or
“Secretly
running an illicit school for local children, teaching them the
actual doctrines of the Way of Light in order to keep some remnant of
the true faith alive for future generations.”.
Now, the Full Moon Sage may or may not be worthy of worship; even the
pre-Wicked King Way of Light will have had its problems. But these
feel like real
people with real beliefs and motives.
Some are simply corrupt, but others are sincere; we can think what we
like of their belief, but there is an obvious sympathy here, if not
agreement. And it's gameable! Those are all things that could be cool
in your
game, and your
players could be involved in, and it'd be cool – way cooler than a
priest of Pelor wanting to kill some undead.
The
other way religion is presented is by the big random generator table
mentioned above
(http://udan-adan.blogspot.com/2017/02/religions-of-great-road.html).
This system basically inspired the “Alignment” system I use in my
Against The Wicked City games, though it's also somewhat influenced
by the Vampire system mentioned above. Basically, a PC holds a
particular set of beliefs – which include social practices,
importantly – to one extent or another: Devout, Semi-Devout, or
Non-Devout. This isn't a straitjacket for the PC's actions, but it is
a useful guide and a practical way for the DM and player to
understand the PC's motives. I'll write about that in detail another
time, but for now let's finish on an example of the generator being
used. There'll be some random rolls for name, origin, and how it's
perceived in its homeland, before rolling for the object of worship,
d4 core beliefs, and d4 social practices. I've written it up as one
coherent entry, and added a couple of details for flavour.
The
Apostles of the Great Revelation (from the east)
Originally
hailing from another land, the Apostles were persecuted into oblivion
and are now extinct in their homeland, living on only amongst of the
clans of the High Steppes. The Apostles worship one god (Goktanri,
“Sky God”) – all others are false. They believe that if only
the Reign of the Faithful could be instituted everywhere, then
everything would be perfect!; that we are being justly punished for
the sins of our ancestors; that the End of Days is upon us, and we
must prepare ourselves for the final battle of good and evil! Due to
the syncretic fusion of its teachings with the shamanic traditions of
the area, the faith is actually mostly concerned with the management
of troublesome spirits. The faith places a strong emphasis on the
practise of silent meditation. Its holiest ceremonies are very quiet
and very serious. Every faithful household maintains a small family
shrine within its dwelling-place. The faith has exacting ritual
purity requirements, which its followers are expected to observe
scrupulously (although many of them don't).
That's
nearly all randomly generated, with a few extra touches (God's name,
the location of its worshippers). It sounds like a real religion –
and certainly shares something with Tengrism, which offered some
inspiration to me in the small details. You can imagine coming across
the yurts of a clan who follow this faith; you can imagine a khagan
rising and leading them down from the High Steppes, to institute the
Reign of the Faithful; you can, perhaps, imagine a PC holding these
beliefs, and carrying their family shrine with them in a wicker box.
Its randomly generated nature should make it ridiculous, and some wag
will surely say that's more or less how real religions arise; but to
me it works, and makes an engaging and authentic group to put in my
game. Moreover, it escapes cliché despite being so close to actual
religions – some feat!
How
has Joseph, the creator of Against The Wicked City, done this? I
don't know; you'd need to ask him. But here are the two principles
I'd suggest one might follow to achieve something of the same result.
FIRSTLY,
and most significant in avoiding shallowness: when creating religions
in your setting, imagine what their adherents actually feel, think,
believe. You may have decided they're accurate or inaccurate in their
beliefs, but come to the human level and engage with them
sympathetically. If you are taking a simulationist approach to
world-building, and you want your players to engage thoughtfully with
things in the world, the belief structures and socio-religious
practices of the majority of your NPCs matter! What your NPCs want
and do will be as improved by giving them rich belief systems as by
giving them strong personal motives. Studying real world religion
will help here (just look at the differences between the closely
related belief structures of “orthodox” Hinduism, Buddhism, and
Jainism, and the accompanying social structures – incredibly rich);
so will reading the fantasy and RPG authors who best deal with
religion. (Incidentally, doing this when dealing with traditional
fantasy religion helps, too – embedding the Temple of Bahamut in
actual local social practice will make it massively more useful and
compelling.)
SECONDLY,
and helpful in avoiding cliché (though point Firstly will help with
this too): having read about real world religions and looked at the
best fantasy writers on the topic, write some stuff, and keep
throwing stuff at the wall. Look for some conceptual density. Make it
messy and confusing. Come up with ways the religion/mysticism you're
creating might help or harm its adherents or opponents (if only in a
promised afterlife!). Don't primarily think of it in terms of its
strict game utility – don't make up something just because the town
needs a temple. Of course, your town may need a temple, and you want
it to be gameable – but step aside for a moment when creating the
temple. Your setting probably doesn't need a generic sun god called
Lord Sun who people go to for healing and (if you're pushed for more)
bland high holy days with unspecified ceremonies. The sun, after all,
is believed to be a telescope from the heavens, and the sun god is
the telescope operator; he's a reverse-astronomer, and his gifts are
chiefly to do with mechanical devices and intelligence-gathering.
Right sacrifice to him is believed to aid the city's automaton
defence force in combat, and so even poor families will donate
annually, and everyone attends the feasts of his holy week in the
summer, the Assembly of Cogs.
Hopefully
that helps you. What is your favourite socio-religious material from
RPGs?
Thanks for the kind words, Owen. I agree that much fantasy religion seems to be written by people with little knowledge of, or sympathy with, real-world religions, with the result that they tend towards either complete functionalism - clerics as little more than vending machines for 'Cure Light Wounds' spells - or total caricature - clerics as insane fanatics who believe superstitious nonsense for no reason, and probably want to kill you over it.
ReplyDeleteI sometimes suspect that D&D's treatment of religion would have been a lot better if it wasn't for the cleric class. Everyone now knows the story of Sir Fang, and how the cleric was a very late addition to the game that would become D&D, modelled more on the Hammer Horror version of Van Helsing than on anything in fiction or history. But we've been stuck with them for 40 years now, which means that every version of D&D has to come up with some kind of tokenistic religious context for this bizarre order of miracle-working vampire hunters, resulting in the generation of countless fantasy religions completely disconnected from the spiritual needs of any real world community.
Look at the Pathfinder gods, for example: they're not a pantheon, they're a D&D party writ large. Erastil is the god for the ranger. Iomedae is the god for the paladin. Torag is the god for the dwarf. Shelyn is the god for the bard. And so on. If spell-casting priests had just been rolled into magic-users, as they were in all the source material, then D&D's approach to religion might have been less... artificial?
I was raised in a non-religious household, and went through an 'angry atheist' phase as an adolescent. (It was the 1990s.) But then I read the Bible right through and I read a lot of religious history and I realised that I'd totally misunderstood how religion actually *works*: that it's a methodology for being human, rather than a list of factual claims about reality. I'm not a practising member of any religious tradition, but I do have a lot of sympathy for many of them, especially the ones which have tended to be on the losing end of history. I'm glad to hear that it comes across in the stuff I write for RPGs.
I think the suggestions you offer here are good ones. It's easy to focus on the spectacular elements of fantasy religion - the popes and cathedrals and monks and crusades and inquisitions and whatnot - and consequently to lose sight of the fact that such things are, fundamentally, epiphenomena. Religions ultimately stand or fall by their ability to offer something to ordinary believers.
Good luck with the campaign!