Don’t Make Your Players Do Math (Or Translation)

I thought about this topic after finding a map for my Melorax campaign (circa 2010), which featured homebrew non-human player species in lieu of the standard elves, dwarves, halfling etc. (note: this campaign was before 5e and it’s plethora of player species). I recalled an error I made when DMing that campaign. That memory made want to talk about diminishing returns in worldbuilding

If you’re not familiar with the term diminishing returns, consider these definitions courtesy of dictionary.com and Investopedia respecitvely:

Any rate of profit, production, benefits, etc., that beyond a certain point fails to increase proportionately with added investment, effort, or skill.

The law of diminishing marginal returns states that adding an additional factor of production results in smaller increases in output. After some optimal level of capacity utilization, the addition of any larger amounts of a factor of production will inevitably yield decreased per-unit incremental returns.

Or maybe more simply: at some point, you ain’t getting back what you’re putting in.

The term is mostly used in economic and financial circles. But you can apply it in many other situations. In bodybuilding, for example, the majority of benefits from resistance training result from the first 2-3 sets. Additional sets have diminishing returns.

I touched up the application of diminishing returns slightly in my earlier blog post There’s Too Many Damn Snakes In This Damn City. Here I want to get into its application more definitely.

So back to Melorax. One of the species I made were Loxodon. No, not the WotC bipedal Loxodon. My version were basically thinner elephants with two trunks each ending in four fingers. Having recently devoured Sanderson’s Way of Kings, I thought it would make sense and be cool if their current were glass beads surrounding different gemstones and bits of metal. Moreover, I decided that since these Loxodon had eight digits, they would use a Base Eight math system instead of our Base Ten System. For example, our numbers 13 and 47 would be 15 (8 x 1 plus 1 x 5) and 57 (8 x 5 plus 1 x 7) in their system.

That idea worked well for flavor. For example, the party finding such beads among other treasure would indicate the presence of Loxodon. Forcing the players to do currency value conversion when trading with Loxodon did not go over well. Fortunately, I learned my error quickly: most players don’t enjoy doing unnecessary math, and doing so added very little, if not nothing, to the roleplay.

Here’s another example from my Krim campaign based on a Roman type empire. For that campaign I created an entire Latin like language called Primid. Here’s an example meaning “Which character will be the most successful?” Quinam personix fut esa prosperest? I created Primid more to add some occasional flavor and because I love language (as a bonus, I think my high school Latin teacher, Mrs. Murphy, would have been proud).

But I never expected my players to understand, learn, or use Primid. Or the custom calendar calendar system I made in conjunction. Nice for flavor, but good examples of diminishing returns  if applied too extensively.

Do I still create worldbuilding details that I don’t necessarily share with my players? Yes. I enjoy the process and find it helps me create a richer setting in my mind. Having a more complete sense of the world helps me when I plan adventures and story arcs.

But I urge DMs to consider diminishing returns when deciding which worldbuilding to employ. I sometimes read about DMs proudly describing intricate currency systems, calendars, or languages they plan to make players learn. I cringe. Of course, I might be wrong. One of the great aspects of TTRPGs is that there can be a myriad of gameplay styles. Maybe some players like doing math and translation as part of their roleplay.

In the mean time: Habestas bonen diad!