Big World vs. Small World
Does your world have some of everything? Or is it more exclusive?
We made it! It was a long time off, and we’re ready to bring you more content. Time for more GM Fundaments.
In our first installment of this series, we promised to dive back into some of the “big questions” inherent to world building, giving them a longer look than that first pass. We’ve previously addressed “Persistent World vs. Static World.”
Today, we’ll take a look into the reasons and consequences to choose a big world or a small world.
For most in the TTRPG space, they got started with Dungeons & Dragons. The default world for D&D originally was Oerth, the Greyhawk setting. In 5th edition, the default setting has moved to The Forgotten Realms, with a world called Toril. Both of these work as the default setting for the game because they are large worlds - each is consciously designed to be about the same size as our Earth - and as such can credibly fit the enormous array of creatures and monsters with their various habitats.
That is the primary draw of a big world. Something the size of Earth can obviously support over seven billion intelligent inhabitants with attendant infrastructure, flora, and fauna. We know this because it is doing so now.
All different types of civilizations should be flourishing in a world this size. There is no shortage of coastlines, deserts, tundra, and other specialized terrain for all the different dragons to fight over, plenty of mountains for the dwarves, and enough forest for 500 Silvanesti Nations.
D&D has provided plenty of other settings to choose from over the years, and most have been small world concepts. Dark Sun (Athas), Dragonlance (Krynn), Ravenloft (Ravenloft) - all of these present planets/realms ranging from roughly the size of earth’s moon to the size of Virginia.
A closer examination of these worlds reveals the major advantage of a small world setup - a more insular setting, with tighter focus on specific types of cultures, terrain, and creatures.
As a game master, those advantages translate directly to your decision making in running the game. On Earth, there are over 200 recognized countries. Some share languages, some have cultural similarities, some eat the same food.
Inevitably though, no matter how similar the nations on Earth are, there are more differences. Things for people to argue about and go to war over. If a peasant farmer in rural Hubei in China got hold of a teleport spell and went to London, it would seem as though they’d entered a different world entirely.
The real world doesn’t even have fantasy races in it! Imagine a flourishing sea elf civilization in the Mediterannean, and corresponding population centers in the Great Lakes, Puget Sound, the Gulf of Guineau, the Bay of Bengal.
Conversely, in smaller worlds, being anywhere on that world is basically still being on that world. Despite some oases here and there, no creature from Athas would feel out of place anywhere on the planet. It’s all desert, so not much variation is required outside of the city-states themselves. The monocultural nature of the planet allows the world builders to sharpen the setting in a way that’s impossible with a huge cultural milieu. Fewer than a dozen ancient sorcerer kings controlling the entire word is simply impossible in a setting the size of Toril.
In creating Dearmadta, as previously disclosed, we wanted a big world. Specifically, we went with an alternate universe Earth to help us give players some shorthand clues for what type of setting we’d be in in any given campaign.
Ultimately every fantasy culture is inspired by a real one, so using the real culture’s maps saves lots of exposition.
We also wanted to be able to have huge cities, massive nations, warring tribes, and empty wastelands. You can’t have all of those things simultaneously on a small world. On a world the size of the moon, you’ve less than two North Americas’ worth of area to shape. One big ocean, one big continent, and you’re out of space.
Ultimately, this decision also leads to more improvisation within each session, as there are a lot more interested parties in the world and many different cultural reactions to be experienced to party actions. The world by necessity becomes more “sandboxy.” Story arcs still happen, but they are more escapeable.
Player backstory also constantly pushes more detailing naturally, as the players want to be from the “blank spots” on our map. This adds to the collaborative nature of our games.
The downside of a world like this is that improperly managed, it can lead to decision fatigue and a paralysis of too many options.
We have a game we PC in these days, and the world is decidedly small in nature. It’s a discworld, with a seeming AI god/overlord living at the center. The world is locked down in an extradimensional sense - planar travel is blocked by the controlling deity.
This setup allows a much tighter narrative focus. There’s a world, and we know about all the lands and peoples in it. We can communicate with everyone (without magic even!) and we have enough cultural knowledge to not offend those we meet. No matter where we go, we’ll still be in the basic soup of this world - our options are constrained by the design choices. This doesn’t rule out “sandbox” play, but it does curtail it in significant ways.
Specifically related to PC backstory as discussed above, this type of setting requires more guidance from the DM to be world-compliant. The advantage here for the player is that they can feel more structure organically within the game, and this can make every decision simpler. It also allows a focus on finer details, as opposed to big picture.
Some players chafe at the more restrictive nature of this type of setting, and will constantly seek to color outside of your lines. Again, handling the group well and presenting your world correctly is still the key.
If you believe it, your players will believe it with you.
Session prep is very different for the types of worlds. In a larger world, there will always be the option for the players to just sod off and do something else. This requires the GM to be prepared to change the entire nature of the campaign at the drop of a hat. If you’re not happy dealing with politics in Waterdeep, you can just pay for some teleportation to Chult and forget about Waterdeep forever.
Small worlds, because they are more confined, can deliver the GM’s intended plot devices into the PC’s laps regardless of how they try to evade them. Sure, the heroes of the lance could try to evade the war of the lance - but it took place on every part of the world, so good luck. No railroading required, it’s just a natural effect of the chosen setting.
Spacefaring games are very different in this regard. Spelljammer, StarFinder, or whatever space game you’re into - there are many worlds. As a GM, there are options to deal with this. You can treat “space” as your world, and the planets like regions or nations.
You can have a base planet that functions as your world, with space and other planets as basically side quests.
You can treat a starship as your world, and everything outside of it as “unexplored territory.”
Sci-Fi games require a whole different view of this issue, if interplanetary travel is involved, and we’ve already gone long enough in this installment. We’ll address the “many worlds” issue in a future post.