Blog Friday: Abstract away your wealth!

 

One of the staples of old school play is gold for XP. I don't use it myself, because I don't particularly like it. This dislike comes down to main issues: I don't like counting XP, and I don't like counting gold (or silver, copper, or any other currency). In this blog post, I behave much like a cooking blogger, ruminating a bit on my thoughts before presenting something gameable at the end. If you just want the game juice, skip to the section just before the bullet points.

In my mind, XP is by far the easiest of the two to get rid of in a satisfying way. Just level up whenever it makes sense, such as after looting the dungeon, slaying the dragon, saving the prince(ss), etc. or just throw levels out entirely and rely on diegetic advancement instead. 

Money however, has the problem that it is already entirely diegetic. The money is normally tracked as it exists in the world, not as some external game currency. Adventurers need money to spend on survival, buying trinkets, and getting into drunken trouble. It's just like real life! And just like in real life, I don't like the bean counting that comes with not being filthy rich (if any lottery winners out there want to fund my lavish lifestyle, please get in touch).

In real life though, I am fortunate enough to have a day job that pays the bills well enough that I don't need to think too hard about bean counting, as long as I remember not to fill my basket with steak and lobster when I get groceries. Money comes in, money goes out. How much? Only the bank knows, it's the circle of life etc. The magic of debit cards!

Adventurers, unlike me, usually don't have a regular paycheck coming in every month. That's why they subject themselves to the dangers of adventuring. However, I reckon that until funds start running low, they wouldn't track every coin. At least I tell myself that. And it's my game anyway, I can abstract away whatever I want.

One way of abstracting away the counting of coin is through wealth levels. His Majesty the Worm uses a sort of halfway solution, where you pay a flat "entry fee" for a given level of equipment, and then fill up your bag (literally) with anything from that level or below. The in-development Prismatic Wasteland (the game, not the blog, nor the guy/bird) allegedly uses some sort of wealth levels, but I wouldn't know as I haven't read it.

An interesting implementation of wealth levels outside the old school scene is in the modern big book game Hard Wired Island. Here characters have a wealth level. Ideally this is high enough to let them lead a stable life, but also acts as a source of drama and adventure when some calamity hits the bank account and the wealth level drops, suddenly making an adventure a necessary pre-requisite to cover rent (very end-stage capitalism). However, a key difference between this and traditional adventure elfgames is that the characters of Hard Wired Island  are members of a community - their adventures are about maintaining their own (and their friends') existence in the community, or the community's continued existence.

Elfgame characters are very often drifters or otherwise outsiders, bringing back treasure to finance their stay at the inn while they get patched up. Buying a house in town, when striking big on treasure, is often synonymous with retirement from the adventuring life. Very Bilbo Baggins.

How then, do we combine the nice and simple wealth level with the life of an elfgame adventurer, forever hunting for treasure until retirement? My answer is abstracted treasure levels!

Rather than counting out the specific monetary worth of treasures and the services they buy, abstract the value into discrete but broad levels. I present one such set of levels here, use them as is, riff on them, or ignore me completely and go back to your gold coins. Here are the levels:

• Minor Treasure: Will pay for a week's stay at the inn, refilling basic rations and supplies, but nothing fancy and no new gear.
• Medium Treasure: 
• Will pay for a month's stay in good conditions, 
• or an investment item for each adventurer in the party: a new sword, a piece of armor, or an expensive ingredient, plus a week's stay like a Minor treasure,
• or the favour of a local level big-shot, e.g. the town mayor, guild master, etc.
  
• Large Treasure:
• You can live well and be the life of the party for a year, and be well supplied for your next adventure,
• or an expensive item for each adventurer: a masterwork sword, magic tome, runeforged shield, etc.
• or the favour of a significant figure or faction,
• or funding a major project.
  
•  Massive Treasure: You're rich as Croesus, you should buy a townhouse and retire if you've got any sense, because you won't need to work another day in your life. Alternatively, this is the funds to buy significant holdings and get into domain play, if that's your jam.
  

Of course, treasure comes in all shapes and sizes. A gemstone that fits in your hand could be worth a wheelbarrow full of gold coins. A wheelbarrow full of coins is much more troublesome to transport, but also much easier to spend when you get back to civilisation. With a singular item of great value, such as the aforementioned gemstone, you have to find someone willing and wealthy enough to buy it from you, someone who has something of equivalent value who wants to trade, or settle for not getting the full value of the item. A big city will usually offer merchant guilds who can buy most treasures, while they will be significantly harder to offload at full price in a small town.

A treasure of great value but small size is also a prime target for those who want to get rich quick, but don't fancy venturing into a dungeon. Be careful of who you tell about your treasures, or this might lead to a second adventure before you get to spend them.