Unreliable Rumors

— George Woolliscroft Rhead, late 19th century

Castle Kelpsprot: 61 rooms keyed as of January 13.

I like this rundown on the purpose of rumors from Sofinho at Alone In the Labyrinth:

1. To drive investigation and/or exploration of the sandbox.
2. To present a simulacrum of a living world.

Rumors can serve other purposes, however, such as illustrating attitude. For example, a group of zealots may insist that “the duchess is a troll witch who eats babies’ hearts.” And while this may not provide any real information about the duchess, it does illuminate the zealots’ attitude towards her.

True Or False

I’m not a fan of strictly false rumors. Yes, false rumors reinforce verisimilitude, but they also increase the likelihood of players getting completely lost in the weeds. I don’t particularly like strictly true rumors either. While true rumors do present opportunities for planning, they diminish the joy of discovery and surprise. I also believe that attaining solid, actionable intelligence should require more legwork from players than chatting up the nearest swineherd.

The Elephant’s Trunk

Therefore, I suggest offering players sets of unreliable rumors: that is, rumors that contain elements of both truth and myth—and that also contradict each other. With such an approach, players cannot wholly trust nor discount individual rumors. Consider the parable of the blind men and the elephant. Each rumor is like one part of the elephant’s body: alone, each rumor offers little and may even prove deceptive. However, when considered in aggregate, a set of rumors may provide a valuable insight.

Extracting value from rumors then becomes a matter of player skill. Players not only must identify common threads within several rumors but also devise plans that take into account a degree of uncertainty. This approach preserves the joy of discovery, as players won’t know exactly what to expect—and they’ll feel clever if their predictions prove fairly accurate.

Example Rumor Set

What can be gleaned from the following rumors?

• “Ghosts haunt Whistlereed Mill—that’s why no one from town works there. Those ghosts produce some mighty good flour, though.”
• “The miller of Whistlereed digs up graves and grinds flour from our ancestors’ bones! That’s why I get my flour from Thimbleberry Mill on the other side of the valley.”
• “The miller of Whistlereed practices dark sorcery! That’s why the mill’s all boarded up and only runs at night.”

What’s really going on at Whistlereed Mill?

A necromancer abandoned his dark pursuits in favor of a simpler life as a miller. He raised skeletons to run the mill, and to avoid disturbing his customers, he boarded up the windows and only operates at night.