Blank Spaces

A concept for TTRPG adventure design

A while back I shared a few ideas I had about a TTRPG system that I have no intention of ever properly designing or playing … just tossing around ideas regarding what my ideal game might look like. It was fun to explore the concept but, as I said at the time, there’s already way too many options out there.

So it got me thinking about adventure design. The very thought of creating my own campaign world fills me with anxiety, so (much like my imaginary ideal TTRPG) it will probably never exist beyond the occasional notebook scribble. But, in a similar vein, I thought I might share one key concept about adventure design that I would prioritise - something you don’t see very often in published adventures.

Intentionally omitted details.

We all know the feeling of flipping through pages trying to do justice to the world, storyline and NPCs meticulously provided by our favourite creators … not to mention how difficult that can be when faced by players who never do what you expect and who hate being railroaded. And whilst there are plenty of lite adventures around not everyone has the confidence to run something like a sandbox or what Sly Flourish would call a spiral campaign.

If I were to design an adventure I would aim for something in between, something unique. A structured, reasonably linear adventure that deliberately leaves gaps for the Game Master and players to fill together.

What do I mean by this?

Imagine …

• A world map with an unexplored region or, better yet, an actual hole torn through the parchment.

• A pantheon where only half the gods are known.

• Monsters whose appearance is described but whose names are left blank.

• An ancient empire that vanished for reasons nobody can quite agree upon.

• A tavern full of ordinary people simply living their lives, with no quests, no rumours and no mysterious hooded strangers waiting in the corner.

Those omissions aren't unfinished design; they're invitations. The unexplored corner of the map belongs to the GM who has the perfect idea six sessions from now. The unnamed monster becomes whatever best fits the story when the players finally encounter it. The silent tavern gives the players permission to decide who they want to talk to instead of following the adventure author's breadcrumbs. Instead of answering every question, the adventure asks a few of its own.

We often praise adventure writers for the worlds they create. I wonder if we should spend just as much time admiring the details they choose not to provide. After all, the blank spaces are where every group tells a different story. Two tables can play the same adventure, but no two tables will ever fill in those gaps in quite the same way. Perhaps that's where the real magic of roleplaying has been hiding all along.