Why?

Welcome, or welcome back, to the blog for a bit of Wednesday World-Building. Sorry I missed a week, I felt really low and lethargic last week and just couldn't find the words to blog. Today we'll be diving into one of the points from last week's post to discuss reasons why we might want to include the Fantastic in our creations. 

As stated last week, when I use the word Fantastic, I mean elements like magic, psionics, advanced technology, superpowers and strange creatures; anything that significantly changes a world and pitches it into Fantasy, Science Fiction, Horror, or some fusion of the three. This can include traditional interpretations—after all, bookstores and libraries are packed with such tales—but we can also explore unconventional ideas, as long as they serve our purpose.

 ‘Why’ is one of the most powerful questions we can ask—it reveals not just the motivations of others, but our own as well. Asking it allows us grasp at what we're really talking about or demonstrating in our work. My belief is that everything we make is talking about something else, simply because we're projecting ourselves onto the page. Our interests and values, our sense of right and wrong, everything that makes us passionate - we put it into our worlds and play with it until we reach a sort of conclusion. In many ways, in exploring our worlds, we explore ourselves. 

That might sound heavy, but most of us don’t set out to explore our inner psyches—we just want to build something we love.

Let's look at some reasons why we might want to include Fantastic elements in our work. 

1) To Illustrate Or Explore A Point: I touched on this idea in the first piece, but let's talk about it a bit more here. Our world is chock full of concepts and these can be fascinating. When we include fantastical elements in our worlds we can pull out one of those concepts to explore. We might take the idea to an extreme conclusion, just to see what that world would be like. This allows us to play the sort of philosophical games Science Fiction is famous for. We can see that in play in books like Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury, which was clearly created in part as a response for the growth of television ownership in the US. Positing a world where nobody reads, and in fact reading has become illegal, is a fascinating way to explore the way TV seized the imaginations and dominated the time of the average American - and has continued to. This pulls out the question of how society is shaped and what effect a new piece of technology becoming wide spread has. William Gibson—author of Neuromancer—has lamented that SF writers largely overlooked the rise of mobile phones, missing a chance to imagine the ways constant connectivity would reshape society. 

We can also use this method to critique other creator's ideas, as well. The 1970s saw a lot of Feminist Utopian Science Fiction being published, embracing the idea that if only women were in charge the world would be perfect. For example, Sherri S Tepper's The Gate To Women's Country suggested that a city run by women was manipulating the future of humanity through selective breeding and that this would lead to a utopia.  Storm Constantine's Monstrous Regiment, by contrast, clapped back against the movement, suggesting that the women could be as ruthless and dictatorial as men.  This can apply as easily to Fantasy and Horror as it does Science Fiction - consider Tolkien's industrialisation versus nature theme in Lord of the Rings, or Lovecraft's cosmic horror as an exploration of how the unknown preys upon human psychology. 

One way to ensure your world reflects the ideas you want to explore is to list the themes and major concepts you find compelling. What core questions does your world grapple with? What conflicts or dynamics arise naturally from those ideas? By identifying both the abstract themes (e.g., power, justice, corruption) and the concrete institutions or elements (e.g., religious orders, guilds, ruling bodies), you can create a more cohesive and intentional world.

This approach works for tabletop RPGs too, though it manifests differently. While in fiction, the author controls the narrative to underscore their themes, in an RPG, the world’s institutions and the players' interactions with them shape the thematic foundation. Consider treating factions and organisations as characters with their own motivations and relationships. How does the local Thieves' Guild view the Sun Goddess’s church? Are the worshippers seen as naïve marks, or does the church’s stance on protecting the weak earn the guild’s grudging respect? 

Building on this relationship, we can apply it practically to how it affects the interactions between the different groups, and the Player Characters. By highlighting the tension between charity and dignity, we create an opportunity for a dramatic arc—perhaps a Rogue struggling with their views on the church, torn between scepticism and reluctant admiration.

2) To Add Mystery, Excitement, and Danger: One of the most instinctive reasons to include the Fantastic is to raise the stakes. These elements create tension, spark curiosity, and make our worlds more engaging. They add depth, stirring that part of the brain that longs for something hidden beneath the surface. In many ways, they tap into our inner child—the part of us that once saw a gnarled oak tree as more than just wood and leaves, or felt a slightly open wardrobe door might lead to another world. Perhaps we never truly lose those fantasies; they simply evolve with us. Whatever the case, the Fantastic allows us to indulge that craving for mystery, thrill, and peril, shaping our worlds into something more than the mundane.

Mystery is often tied to secrets and the unseen. It can take many forms, from a detective unravelling the circumstances of an untimely death to the pursuit of forbidden knowledge or the simple wonder of what lies beyond the horizon. Mystery drives many of the genres we're discussing, but perhaps none more than Gothic fiction, where every castle harbours dark histories and terrible secrets within its walls. The very first Gothic novel, The Castle of Otranto (which is utterly daft, by the way), revolved around an eerie presence disturbing a castle. Similarly, Lovecraft’s work is steeped in hidden horrors—whether it's the fate of Charles Dexter Ward or the mind-breaking discoveries in At the Mountains of Madness.

In tabletop RPGs, the Lovecraftian tradition thrives, embracing mysteries both grand and small. Some stories ask cosmic questions, while others hinge on something as simple—and unsettling—as a piano playing in an empty room. When we weave the Fantastic into our settings, we create opportunities for players and readers to chase the unknown, drawing them deeper into the world.

Excitement can transform a world from merely engaging to truly awe-inspiring. It draws us in, making us lean forward in anticipation, and is often fuelled more by action than by the infrastructure of a setting. Magic, psionics, and other Fantastic elements captivate us because they offer an escape from the mundane. I suspect this is why, no matter how satisfying the subtlety of Gandalf’s magic feels, we still thrill at the sight of a fireball tearing through a battlefield.

Perhaps the most overt example of this is the superhero genre, where people leap buildings in a single bound and time travel to right wrongs (sometimes with disastrous consequences). Our sense of wonder is affirmed by seeing these characters perform impossible feats, tapping into the thrill of what could be.

In tabletop RPGs, this sense of excitement comes alive in unexpected ways—whether it’s the clutch fireball that turns the tide of battle, a rogue’s death-defying leap across a collapsing bridge, or the perfect dice roll that snatches victory from the jaws of defeat. The Fantastic gives us the chance to push beyond reality’s limits, experiencing moments of sheer exhilaration that we might never find in the real world.

Danger is what makes us sit up in our seats. While it shares some DNA with excitement, its true power lies in evoking fear—whether it's the creeping dread of the unknown or the adrenaline surge of a life-or-death struggle. There are many ways to create this feeling: in a tabletop RPG, being down to a handful of hit points can make a player sweat, but so can an ominous prophecy, a wrong turn in a cursed city, or an enemy’s chilling smile when they know something the characters don’t.

Including danger in our worlds gives characters purpose, defining the obstacles they must overcome and the enemies they must face. It doesn’t just raise the stakes—it changes the world, leaving scars on both the people and the places within it. Danger transforms journeys into desperate races, choices into gambles, and victories into hard-won triumphs. When Pippin alerts the Orcs to the Fellowship’s presence in The Lord of the Rings, what was once a perilous passage through Moria becomes a frantic escape, shifting the quest from tense exploration to pure survival.

Danger often intertwines with mystery and excitement. A forbidden tome might hold terrible truths, but deciphering them could be both thrilling and catastrophic. A ruler’s enmity can lead to political intrigue, assassination attempts, or desperate escapes. The best worlds keep these elements in constant tension, forcing players and characters to stay on their toes.

3) To Maintain Our Own Interest: World-building is a long-term endeavour, and one of the biggest challenges isn’t just making something good—it’s making something we actually want to keep working on. The Fantastic gives us a way to stay engaged by introducing elements that excite us, surprise us, and give us something to play with. If we're not entertained by our own worlds, why should anyone else be?

One of the easiest ways to lose interest in a setting is when it starts to feel predictable. If we’re only rehashing familiar ideas, it can start to feel like a chore rather than a passion project. The Fantastic allows us to shake things up—introducing unexpected twists, new mechanics, or unusual lore elements that keep us engaged. Whether it’s discovering a strange new form of magic, an alien civilization with an incomprehensible culture, or an ancient machine buried beneath a kingdom, these elements challenge us as creators, keeping the process fresh.

Just as our players or readers want to explore our worlds, we do too. A good Fantastic element can be something we don’t fully understand yet—something we’re still piecing together as we write or design. Maybe we introduce an artifact with strange properties or a forgotten god that whispers in the dark, without fully deciding what it all means yet. The process of figuring it out, adding details over time, and watching the puzzle pieces come together can be incredibly satisfying.

Sometimes, the Fantastic keeps us interested because it lets us explore the things that fascinate us personally. Maybe we’ve always loved stories about lost civilizations, the mysteries of deep space, or the idea of psychic powers. By weaving these into our world, we make something that speaks to our own passions, rather than just chasing what’s popular or expected. If we follow what excites us, it’ll translate into a richer, more compelling setting for others too.

For tabletop RPGs, this is especially important because if the GM isn't excited, the players will know. Running a long campaign means returning to the world again and again, and without elements that make us eager to keep going, the setting can start to feel like a burden instead of a playground.

4) For Escapism and Catharsis: The real world can be a hard place, and creating our own worlds can be a great way of escaping from the pressures of our lives. It gives us an opportunity to play God for a while, ordering things the way we would like them to be, instead of how they are. Through creativity we can embrace our values and drives, centring them in such a way that can bring us satisfaction. This is slightly different to exploring a theme; for example Emma Newman's Split Worlds series serves as much a protest against British nostalgia as anything else, created from her alarm at the craving for a world where women were seen and not heard. 

The Fantastic can also provide catharsis, allowing us to heal from traumas or to see justice served. Referencing Emma Newman's work again, her mental health challenges prompted her to write a series of Science Fiction novels exploring mental health and how society treats it. It's not hard to see how these novels would provide Newman with a level catharsis as they allowed her to structure her world and narrative around this investigation. There's even a sense of freedom in being able to dive into something where we can feel seen and validated this way. 

This freedom is an incredibly attractive lure into the Fantastic, providing a way to let our troubles fall away and to be captivated by something that may not be real, but which speaks to us nonetheless. From a personal perspective, I'm not fond of Paranormal Romance at all. It's simply not my cup of tea (and I have a particular horror of centuries' old vampire men dating teenagers because it's just gross), but for its target audience, I can see the appeal. The idea of there being men who will actually protect you from danger, and you can soothe and make safe through love must be a heady proposition for its fans. 

5) For The Love Of It: Now I don't want you to think I'm odd... but I love this stuff. I love dragons, spaceships, superheroes, wizards, witches, psychics, monsters and even Kender! I find most media that doesn't involve weird stuff quite boring, and probably know more about my favourite worlds than is actually healthy. I can't envisage creating a world that doesn't include something Fantastical because if you cut me, I expect a vampire to turn up and get a snack. 

I suspect you're the same, to be honest. I suspect you adore all these things and including them in your world makes you happy, and I fully support that. These worlds be construct are passion projects and we in the same way that we include them to keep ourselves interested in what we're making, we're also embracing what we love. There's no better reason than that to put Fantastic elements in your world, to be honest. It doesn't need explanation or justification. 

What's your favourite form of the Fantastic and how have you used it?