Mazes & Mondays: Building the World

Designing believable worlds is on my mind a lot lately, perhaps because I will be discussing world building in the upcoming ConCarolinas; perhaps because I am currently involved in some heavy, fantasy worldbuilding, adapting my original world of Sundrah into a new fantasy world that has grown out of the first., It doesn’t matter, what does is that the process is treated with the respect it deserves. With that dear sword bearers, I give you the following article which may help to simply the matter for you. Enjoy.

What Makes a Fantasy Game Truly Magical?

Fantasy games—whether played on sprawling maps with painted miniatures or around the glow of imagination at the tabletop—come with their own unique challenges and rewards. They transport us to worlds teeming with mythical creatures, ancient secrets, and epic conflicts. But have you ever considered what makes a fantasy game truly fantastical? What separates a generic sword-and-sorcery slog from an immersive experience that lingers in our minds long after the dice have cooled?

The key to a great fantasy game isn’t just dragons, dungeons, or daring deeds. It’s believability. Not realism in the literal sense (no one’s expecting your elves to have biologically accurate ears), but a sense of internal consistency and coherence that transports players from the familiar to the fantastical.

Building a Believable Fantasy World

Before we talk mechanics or gameplay, we need to start with the most essential ingredient of any great fantasy experience: the world. Fantasy worlds don’t need to be endlessly detailed, but they must feel alive. A well-drawn world gives players a sense that even when their character isn’t on the stage, things are still happening.

• Cause and Effect: Great fantasy games have worlds where actions—player-driven or otherwise—have consequences. If a warlock’s magical experiment goes awry, it shouldn’t just vaporize their village; it should alter the political, cultural, and environmental landscape of the realm.
• Cultural Depth: The world needs more than just surface-level lore. Why do the dwarves detest the stone-benders of the southern cliffs? Why does the kingdom abolish the use of bronze weapons in favor of iron? Fantasy worlds aren’t just backdrops—they’re ecosystems of interwoven history, culture, and belief systems.
• Balance the Familiar and the Strange: While it’s important to include fantastical elements like floating cities or forests that sing when the wind blows, the best worlds tether these wonders to rules players can intuitively grasp. The more believable the world’s logic, the more likely players are to lose themselves within it.

It’s Not the Rules, It’s the Experience

Mechanics can transform a good game into a phenomenal experience. But contrary to what many believe, the best mechanics don’t just sit on top of the narrative—they enhance and deepen the story.

• Reward Creativity: A fantastic fantasy game lets players explore beyond the predetermined track. Mechanics should encourage players to think outside the box—whether they’re trying to negotiate with a chimera instead of fighting it or cobbling together tools from dungeon debris to bypass a trap.
• Make Magic Matter: Magic is a core element of the fantasy genre, but often it’s reduced to predictable spell slots or “points.” To truly capture the wonder, magic should feel unpredictable—its use sparking consequences as mysterious as its power. Introducing small risks or quirks for spellcasters (a wand humming with untamed energy or spells altering the caster temporarily) can create excitement.
• Combat Should Be Meaningful: If every game devolves into swinging swords or flinging fireballs without context, you’re missing half the fun. Combat should have stakes—tied to the world, the story, and the characters involved. Sure, a bandit ambush might be exciting, but maybe that bandit has a reason for their desperation. Maybe not every fight needs bloodshed.

The Heart of Roleplaying

A fantasy game becomes unforgettable when it takes things a step further than mere strategy and tactics—when it creates resonance with its players. And resonance comes from characters they can care about and moments where their choices feel deliberate and meaningful.

• Invest in Character Goals: Players don’t just want stats and abilities; they want a voice in the world. Perhaps your character wields a battle axe carved from the bones of the frost giants who tormented her clan, or a scholar’s tome filled with cryptic prophecies. Personal stakes tied to their tools make every decision fascinating.
• Conflict or Connection? Great games aren’t afraid to lean into emotional storytelling. A rivalry between a fire mage and an ice monk could span across campaigns, while heartfelt moments—like a knight choosing to abandon their sworn oath for love or vengeance—linger in memory.
• Roleplaying as a Mirror of Worlds: For a game to be rich, give the players agency, but also reflect their actions back through the people, places, and creatures they interact with. Did they liberate a village? Great—how did that affect local politics? Did they anger a celestial guardian? That divine grudge might come back to haunt them.

Simplicity vs. Over-Complexity

Fantasy games sometimes fall prey to either being mechanically overburdened or too simplistic. Both can break immersion. The sweet spot lies in creating depth without dragging gameplay into the weeds.

• Streamline Complexity: If you’re implementing systems for alchemy or spell crafting, make sure they serve a purpose and add to the stakes, rather than overloading players with spreadsheets.
• Abstract Where Necessary: You don’t need to simulate every aspect of fantasy life. Sure, tracking rations and individual arrow counts might add realism, but is it fun or relevant to your story? Leave out the noise—but introduce unexpected challenges when least expected. For example, the freezing winds of the Blizzard Steppes suddenly making that forgotten blanket roll a crucial detail can make the world feel more alive.

Balancing Familiarity with Fantasy

Fantasy games need to avoid one common pitfall—resorting to lazy analogues within their setting. Blindly importing real-world systems or tropes into a fantasy world cheapens its uniqueness.

• Don’t just replace knights with “sky-knights” and give them magical armor. Describe how this role developed. Why link magic and warfare? What does this reveal about the kingdom, and how do these details shape the narrative?
• Likewise, if you’re borrowing classic creatures like goblins, trolls, or dragons, give them unique roles in your world. Maybe goblins are the scribes of ancient magical lore, fastidious archivists who bargain with knowledge rather than brute strength.

Fantasy that Transcends

Ultimately, a fantasy game isn’t great because of flashy combat or quirky magic—it’s great because it captures our imaginations in a way that feels real. It’s about transporting people and bringing them into vast, untold worlds where their choices dictate the story.

If your players can lose themselves in the world you’ve presented—if they can mourn its fallen kingdoms, fear its dungeons, laugh over its absurdities, and marvel at its wonders—then you’ve succeeded. Not because the mechanics clicked or the roles were perfectly balanced, but because you gave them a gift no spreadsheet or rulebook can provide.

You gave them magic. A world to believe in. A chance to live stories worth telling.

And isn’t that, at its core, what every fantasy game should be?