Trade In Fantasy Ch. 5: Land Transport, Pt 5a
This post continues the text of Part 5 of Chapter 5. Its content has been added to the parent post here and the Table of contents updated. I have decided at the last minute to let the featured image (but not the head image) evolve with each post.

I have a series of images of communities of different sizes which will be sprinkled throughout this article. This is the first of these – something so sparsely-settled that it barely even qualifies as a community. It’s more a collection of close rural neighbors! Image by Jörg Peter from Pixabay
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5.8.1 Villages
The village is the fundamental unit of the population distribution simulation – everything starts there and flows from it.
I’ve given this section a title that I think everyone will understand, but it’s not actually what it’s all about. The real question to be answered here is, how big is the Locus surrounding a population?
The answer differs from one Demographic Model to another, unsurprisingly.
The area of a given Locus is:
SL = MF x (Pop)^0.5 x k,
where,
SL = Locus Size
MF = Model Factor
Pop is the population of the village
and k = a constant that defines the units of area.
The base calculation, with a k of 1, is measured in days of travel. That works for a lot of things, but comparison to a base area of 10,000 km^2 isn’t one of them. For that, we need a different K – one based on the Travel Ranges defined in previous parts of this series.
Section 5.7.1.14.5.1 gives answers based on travel speed, more as a side-issue than anything else, based on the number of miles that can be traversed in a day:
(Very) Low d = 10 miles / day
Low d = 20 miles / day
Reasonable d = 25 miles / day
Doable d = 30 miles / day
Close To Max (High) d = 40 miles / day
Max d = 50 miles / day
( x 1.61 = km).
— but these are the values for Infantry Marching, and that’s a whole other thing.
Infantry march faster than people walk or ride in wagons. The amount varies depending on terrain (that’s the main variable in the above values), but – depending on who you ask – it’s 1 2/3 or 2 or 2.5 times.
But, because they travel in numbers, they can march for less time in a day. Some say 6 hours, some 7, some 8. Ordinary travelers may be slower, but they can operate for all but an hour or two of daylight. That might be 8-2=6 or 7 hours in winter, but it’s more like 12-2=10 or 11 hours in summer.
And it has to be borne in mind that the basis for these values assumes travel in Summer – at least in medieval times. But we want to take the seasons out of the equation entirely and set a baseline from which to adjust the list given earlier.
One could argue that summer is when the crops are growing, and therefore that should be the basis of measurement, given that we’re looking for the size of a community’s reach.
So let’s take the summer values, and average them to 10.5 hours. When you take the various factors into account and generate a table (I used 6, 6.5, 7, 7.5, and 8 for army marching times per day, and the various figures for speed cited plus 2.25 as an additional intermediate value, and work out all the values that it might be, and average them, you get 1.04. That’s so small a change as to be negligible – 1.04 x 50 = 52. We will have far bigger approximations than that!
So we can use the existing table as our baseline. Isn’t that convenient?
But which value from amongst those listed to choose? Overall, unless there’s some reason not to, you have to assume that terrain is going to average out when you’re talking about a baseline unit of 10,000 sqr kilometers. So, let’s use the “Reasonable” value unless there’s reason to change it.
And that gives a conversion rate of 1 day’s travel = roughly 25 miles, or 40 km. And those are nice round numbers.
Now, a locus is roughly circular in shape, so is that going to be a radius or a diameter? Well, a “market day” is how far a peasant or farmer can travel with their goods and return. in a day, so I think we’re dealing with a radius of 1/2 the measurement, so that measurement must be the diameter of the locus.
Which means that the base radius of a locus is 12.5 miles or 20 km.
In an area where the terrain is friendly in terms of travel, this could inflate to twice as much; in an area where terrain makes travel difficult, it could be 1/2 as much or less. But if we’re looking for a baseline, that works.
12.5 miles radius = area roughly 500 sqr miles = area 1270 sqr km. So in 10,000 sqr km, we would expect to find, on average, 7.9 locuses.. But that’s without looking at the population levels and the required Model Factors.
The minimum size for an English Village is 240 people. The Square Root of 240 is 15.5.
So the formula is now 1270 = 15.5 x 20 x Model Factor, and the Model Factor for England conditions and demographics is 4.1. Under this demographic model, there will be 4.1 Village Loci – which is the same thing as 4.1 villages – in 10,000 sqr km.
Having worked one example out to show you how it’s done, here are the Model Factors for all the Demographic Models:
▪ Imperial Core: 480^0.5 = 21.9, and 21.9 x 20 x Model Factor = 1270, so MF = 2.9
▪ Germany (HRE): 400^0.5=20, and 20 x 20 x MF = 1270, so MF = 3.175
▪ France: 320^0.5 = 17.9, and 17.9 x 20 x MF = 1270, so MF = 3.55
▪ Coastal Mercantile Model: 280^0.5 = 16.733, and 16.733 x 20 x MF = 1270, so MF = 3.8
▪ England: 4.1
▪ Frontier Nation: 200^0.5 = 14.14, and 14.14 x 20 x MF = 1270, so MF = 4.5
▪ Scotland: 160^0.5 = 12.65, and 12.65 x 20 x MF = 1270, so MF = 5.02
▪ Tribal / Clan Model: 80^0.5 = 8.95, and 8.95 x 20 x MF = 1270, so MF = 8.95
So, why didn’t I simply state the number of loci (i.e. the number of villages) in an area?
It’s because that’s a base number. When we get to working on actual loci or zones, these can shrink, or grow; according to other factors. This is a guideline – but to define an actual village and it’s surrounds, we will need to use the MF. Besides, you might want to generate a specific model for a specific Kingdom in your game.
You may be wondering, then, why it should be brought up at all, or especially at this stage? The answer to those questions is that the area calculated is a generic base number which may have only passing resemblance to the actual size of the locus.
A locus will continue to expand until it hits a natural boundary, a border, or equidistance to another population center. Very few of them will actually be round in shape – some of them not even approximately.
The ratio between ACTUAL area and BASE area is an important factor in calculating the size of a specific village.

An example of the ‘real borders’ of a Locus
To create the above map, I made a copy of the base map (shown to the left). At the middle top and bottom, i placed a dot representing the Locus ‘radius’.
At the left top, another dot marked the half-way point to the next town (top left), where it intersected a change of terrain – in this case, a river.
At the top right, doing the same thing would have made the town at top right a bit of a mixed bag – it already has forests and hills and probably mountains. I didn’t want it to have a lot of farmland as well. So I deliberately let the current locus stretch up that way. The point below it is also slightly closer to the top right town than it would normally be, but that’s whee there is a change of terrain – the road. I tossed up whether the locus in question should include the intersection and road, but decided against it.
And so on. Once I had the main intersection points plotted, I thought about intermediate points – I didn’t want terrain features to be split between two towns, they had to belong to one or the other. You can see the results in the “bites” that are taken out of the borders of the locus at the bottom.
If you use your fingers, one pointing at the town in the center and the other at the top-middle intersection point, and then rotate them to get an idea of the ‘circular’ shape of the locus, you can see that it’s missing about 1/6 of it’s theoretical area to the east, another 1/6 to the south, and a third 1/6th to the west. It’s literally 1/2 of the standard size. That’s going to drive the population down – but it’s fertile farmland, which will push it up. But that’s getting ahead of ourselves.
As an exercise, though, imagine that the town lower right wasn’t there. The one that’s on the edge of the swamp. Instead of ending at a point at the bottom, the border would probably have continued, including in the locus that small stand of trees and then following the rivers emerging from the swamp, and so including the really small stand of trees. The Locus wouldn’t stop until it got to the swamp itself. The locus would have extended east to the next river, in fact, encompassing forest and hills until reaching the East-road, which it would follow inwards until ii joined the existing boundary. It would still have lost maybe 1/12th in the east, but it would have gained at least that much and probably more in the south, instead of losing 1/3. The locus would be 1 – 1/12 + 1/3 – 1/12 – 1/3 = 10/12 of normal instead of 1/2 of normal.
If you look at the models, you will notice “Base Village” and a population count, and might be fooled into thinking that everything in that range is equally likely. It’s not.
Take the French model – it lists the village size as 320-480.
First, what’s the difference, high minus low? In this case, it’s 160. We need to divide that by 8 as a first step – which in this case is a nice, even, 20.
Half of 20 is 10, and three times 10 is 30. Always round these UP.
With that, we can construct a table:
01-30 = 320
31-40 = 321-350 (up by 30)
41-50 = 351-380 (up by 30)
51-60 = 381-400 (up by 20)
61-70 = 401-420 (up by 20)
71-75 = 421-430 (up by 10)
76-80 = 431-440 (up by 10)
81-85 = 441-450 (up by 10)
86-90 = 451-460 (up by 10)
91-95 = 461-470 (up by 10)
96-00 = 470-480 (up by 10)
I used Gemini to assist in validating various elements of this section, and it thought the “up by 30” was confusing and the terminology be replaced with something more formal.
I disagree. I think the more colloquial vernacular will get the point across more clearly.
It was also concerned – and this is a more important point – that GMs couldn’t implement this roll and the subsequent sub-table quickly. I disagree, once again – I’ve seen far more complicated constructions for getting precise population numbers than two d% rolls, especially since the same tables will apply to all areas within the Kingdom that are similar in constituents. Everywhere within a given zone, in fact, unless you deliberately choose to complicate that in search of precision.
In general, you construct one set of tables for the entire zone – and can often copy those as-is for other similar zones as well. Maybe even for a whole Kingdom.
The d% breakdown is always the same percentages, and there are always 2 “up by “3 x 1/2″s, 2 “up by 2 x 1/2″s, and 5 “up by 1/2″‘s – with the final one absorbing any rounding errors; in this example there aren’t any.
We then construct a set of secondary tables by dividing our three (or four) increments by 10. In this case, 30 -> 3, 20 -> 2, 10 -> 1. And we apply the same d% breakdown in exactly the same way, but from a relative position:
So:
1/2 x 3 = 1.5, rounds to 2; 3 x 1.5 = 4.5, rounds to 5.
1/2 x 2 = 1; 3 x 1 = 3.
1/2 z 1 = 0.5, rounds to 1; 3 x 1 = 3.
The “Up By 30” Sub-table reads:
01-30 = +0
31-40 = +5
41-50 = +5+5 = +10
51-60 = +10+3=+13
61-70 = +13+3=+16
71-75 = +16+2 = +18
76-80 = +18+2 = +20
81-85 = +20+2 = +22
86-90 = +20+2 = +24
91-95 = +24+2 = +26
96-00 = +30 (up by whatever’s left).
The “Up By 20” Sub-table:
01-30 = +0
31-40 = +3
41-50 = +3+3 = +6
51-60 = +6+2 =+8
61-70 = +8+2=+10
71-75 = +10+1 = +11
76-80 = +11+1 = +12
81-85 = +12+1 = +13
86-90 = +13+1 = +14
91-95 = +14+1 = +15
96-00 = +20 (up by whatever’s left).
The “Up By 10” Sub-table:
01-30 = +0
31-40 = +3
41-50 = +3+3 = +6
51-60 = +6+1 =+7
61-70 = +7+1=+8
71-75 = +8+1 = +9
76-80 = +9+1 = +10
81-85 = +0-1 = -1
86-90 = -1-1 = -2
91-95 = -2-1 = -3
96-00 = -3-1 = -4
Notice what happened when I ran out of room in the “+10”? The values stopped going up, and starting from +0, started going DOWN.
It takes just two rolls to determine the Base Population of a specific village with sufficient accuracy for our needs within a zone..
EG: Roll of 43: Main Table = 380, in an up-by-30 result. So we use the “Up By 30” Sub-table and roll again: 72, which gives a +18 result. So the Base population is 380+18=398.
These results are intentionally non-linear.
Optional:
If you want more precise figures, apply -3+d3.
Or -6+d6.
Or anything similar – though I don’t really think you should go any larger than -10+d10 – and I’d consider -8+2d6 first.
I have to make it clear, this is relating to the population of a specific village in a specific zone not a generic one. For anything of the latter kind, continue to use the minimum base population. I just thought that it bookended the ‘real locus’ discussion. We had to have the former because it affects what terrain influences the town size and how much of it there is; the latter is just a bonus that seemed to fit..
Let’s start by talking Demographics, both real-world and Fantasy-world.
The raw population numbers are not as useful as numbers of families would be. But that’s incredibly complicated to calculate and there’s no good data – the best that I could get was a broad statement that medieval times had a child mortality rate (deaths before age 15) of 40-50%, an infant mortality rate (deaths before age 1) of 25-35%, and an average family size of 5-7 children.
If look at modern data, we get this chart:

Source: Our World In Data, cc-by, based on data from the United Nations. Click the image to open a larger version (3400 x 3003 px) in a new tab.
I did a very rough-and-ready curve fitting in an attempt to exclude social and cultural factors and derive a basic relationship for what is clearly a straight band of results:

Derivative work (see above), cc-by, extrapolating a relationship curve in the data
…from which I extracted two data points: (0%,1.8) and (10%,5.6), which in turn gave me: Y = 0.38 X + 1.8, which can be restated, X = 2.63Y – 4.74. And that’s really more precision than this analysis can justify, but it gives a readout of child mortality for integer family sizes.
Yes, I’m aware that the real relationship isn’t linear. But this simplified approximation is good enough for our purposes.
That, in turn, gives me the following:
Y = Typical Number Of Children,
X = Overall Child Mortality Rate
Y, X:
1, -3%
2, 0%
3, 3%
4, 5%
5, 8%
6, 11%
7, 13%
8, 16%
9, 18%
10, 21%
11, 24%
12, 26%
…so far, so good.
Next, I need to adjust everything for the rough data points that we have for medieval times, when bearing children was itself a mortality risk for the mothers.
5-7 children, 40-50%
so that gives me (5, 8, 40) and (7, 13, 50) – more useful in this case as (8, 40) and (13,50) – which works out to Z = 2 Y + 24.
Z=Child Mortality, Medieval-adjusted
Y, X, Z:
1, -3%, 18%
2, 0%, 24%
3, 3%, 30%
4, 5%, 34%
5, 8%, 40%
6, 11%, 46%
7, 13%, 50%
8, 16%, 56%
9, 18%, 60%
10, 21%, 66%
11, 24%, 72%
12, 26%, 76%
But here’s the thing: realism and being all grim and gritty might work for some campaigns, but for most of us – no. What we need to do now is apply a “Fantasy Conversion” which contains just enough realism to be plausible and replaces the balance with optimism.
I think Division of Z (the medieval-adjusted child mortality rate) by 3 sounds about right – YMMV. That gives me the F values below – but I also checked on a ratio of 2.5, which gives me the F2 values.
Gemini suggested using 3.5 or 4 for an even ‘softer’ mortality rate, and 2.25 or 2 for a grittier one.
In principle, I don’t have a problem with that – and part of the reason why I’m not just throwing the mechanics at you, but explaining how they have been derived, is so that GMs can use alternate values if they think them appropriate to their specific campaigns.
I don’t just want to feed the hungry, I want to teach them to fish, to paraphrase the biblical parable.
F= Fantasy Adjusted Child Mortality Rate
F2 = more extreme Child Mortality Rate
Y, X, Z, F, F2:
1, -3%, 18%, 6%, 7%
2, 0%, 24%, 8%, 10%
3, 3%, 30%, 10%, 12%
4, 5%, 34%, 11%, 14%
5, 8%, 40%, 13%, 16%
6, 11%, 46%, 15%, 18%
7, 13%, 50%, 17%, 20%
8, 16%, 56%, 19%, 22%
9, 18%, 60%, 20%, 24%
10, 21%, 66%, 22%, 26%
11, 24%, 72%, 24%, 29%
12, 26%, 76%, 25%, 30%
I think the F values are probably more appropriate for High Fantasy, while the F2 are better for more typical fantasy – but you’re free to use this information any way you like, the better to suit your campaign world.
You might decide, for example, that averaging the Medieval Adjusted Values with the F2 is ‘right’ – so that 5 children would indicate (40+16)/2 = 28% mortality.
Social values can also adjust these values – traditionally, that means valuing male children more than females. But in Fantasy / Medieval game settings, I think that would be more than counterbalanced, IF it were a factor, by the implied increased risks from youthful adventuring. In a society that practices such gender-bias, it would not surprise me if the ultimate gender ratio was 60-40 or even 70-30 – in favor of Girls.
The next element to consider is the risk of maternal death in childbirth. That’s even harder to pin down data on, but 1-3% per child is probably close to historically accurate. Balanced around that is the greater risks from adventuring, and the availability of clerical healing. So I’m extending the table to cover 4, 5, and 6%, but you are most likely to want the values in the first columns. To help distinguish these extreme possibilities from the usual ones, they have been presented in Italics.
We’re not interested so much in the number of cases where it happens as I am the number of cases where it doesn’t – the % of families with living mothers, relative to the number of children.
Y, @1, @2, @3, @4, @5, @6:
1, 99%, 98%, 97%, 96%, 95%, 94%
2, 98.0%, 96.0%, 94.1%, 92.2%, 90.3%, 88.4%
3, 97.0%, 94.1%, 91.3%, 88.5%, 85.7%, 83.1%
4, 96.1%, 92.2%, 88.5%, 84.9%, 81.5%, 78.1%
5, 95.1%, 90.4%, 85.9%, 81.5%, 77.4%, 73.4%
6, 94.1%, 88.6%, 83.3%, 78.3%, 73.5%, 69.0%
7, 93.2%, 86.8%, 80.8%, 75.1%, 69.5%, 64.8%
8, 92.3%, 85.1%, 78.4%, 72.1%, 66.3%, 61.0%
9, 91.4%, 83.4%, 76.0%, 69.3%, 63.0%, 57.3%
10, 90.4%, 81.7%, 73.7%, 66.5%, 59.9%, 53.9%
11, 89.5%, 80.1%, 71.5%, 63.8%, 56.9%, 50.6%
12, 88.6%, 78.5%, 69.4%, 61.3%, 54.0%, 47.6%
The method of calculation is 100 x ( 1- [D/100] ) ^ Y. Just in case you want to use different rates than these.
There does come a point at which the likelihood of maternal death begins to limit the size of the average family, though, and I think the 6% values are getting awfully close to that mark.
Let’s say that a couple have 6 children, right in the middle of the historical average. If the mother falls pregnant a 7th time, at 6%, she has roughly a 1 in 3 chance of dying (and a fair risk of the child perishing with her). Which means that she HAS no more children. But if she beats those odds to have 7 children, her chances are even worse when it comes to child #8, and so on.
Of all the cases with a mother who survived childbirth, we then need to factor in death from all other causes – monsters and adventuring and mischance and so on. Fantasy worlds tend to be dangerous, so this could be quite high – maybe as much as 5% or 10% or 20%. So multiply the living mothers by 0.8. Or 0.7 Or 0.9 – whatever you consider appropriate – to allow for this.

This rural community is obviously alongside a major river or coastline – the proximity of the mountains suggests the first, but isn’t definitive. The name offers a clue: ‘hallstatt’, which to me sounds Germanic, and suggests that the waterway may be the Rhine. Or not, if I’ve misinterpreted. Image by Leonhard Niederwimmer from Pixabay
The result is the % of families with a surviving mother. So how many surviving fathers are there per surviving mother? Estimates here vary all over the shop, and more strongly reflect social values. But if I’m suggesting 5% – 20% mortality for mothers from other sources, the same would probably be reasonably true of fathers – if those social values don’t get in the way.
0.95 x 0.95 = 90.25%.
0.9 x 0.9 = 81%.
0.85 x 0.85 = 72.25%
0.8 x 0.8 = 64%.
Those values give the percentages in which both parents have survived to the birth of the average number of children.
If you’re using 10% mortality from other causes, then in 90% of cases in which the mother has died, the father has survived. But in 10% of the cases in which the mother has succumbed, the children are orphaned by the loss of the other parent.
The higher this percentage, the higher the rate of survivors remarrying and potentially doubling the size of their households at a stroke. And that will distort the average family size far more quickly than the actual mortality percentages, unless there is some social factor involved – maybe it’s expected that parents with children will only marry single adults without children, for example.
The problem with this approach is that if it’s the mother who is remarrying, this puts her right back on that path to mortality through childbirth; the child-count ‘clock’ does not get reset. If it’s a surviving father marrying a new and childless wife, it DOES reset, because the new mother has not had children previously.
In a society that permits such actions, there is a profound dichotomy at its heart that favors larger families for husbands who survive while placing mothers who survive at far greater risk of the family becoming a burden to the community – which is likely to change that social acceptance. Paradoxically, a double standard is what’s needed to give both parents a more equal risk of death, and a more equal chance of surviving.
Next, let’s think about the incidence of Childless Couples. We can state that there’s a given chance of pregnancy in any given year of marriage; but once it happens, there is just under a full year before that chance re-emerges.
Year 1: A% -> 1 child born
Year 2: (100-A) x A% -> 1 child born, A%^2 -> 2 children born
Year 3: (100-A^2) x A% -> 1 child born, (100-A) x A% -> 2 children born, A^3% -> 3 children born
… and so on.
This quickly becomes difficult to calculate, because each row adds 1 to the number of columns, and its easy to lose track.
But here’s the interesting part: we don’t care. To answer this question, there’s a far simpler calculation.
In any given year, there will be B couples married. (100-A%) of them will not have children in the course of that year. If we specify B as the average, rather than as a value specific to a given year, then the year before we will also have B couples marry, and (100-A%) of them without children at the end of that year – which means that in the course of the second year of marriage, A% will have children and stop being counted in this category, and (100-A)% will not, and will still count.
Adding these up, we get (100-A)% + (100-A)%^2 + …. and so on. And these additions will get progressively and very rapidly smaller.
Let’s pick a number, by way of example – let’s try A=80%, just for the sake of argument.
We then get 20% + 4% + 0.8 % + 0.16% + 0.032% + 0.0064% … and I don’t think you’d really need to go much further, the increases become so small. I pushed on one more term (0.000128%) and got a total of 24.998528%. I pushed further with a spreadsheet, and not even 12 years was enough to cross the 25% mark – but it was getting ever closer to it. Close enough to say that for A=80, there would be 25 childless couples for every… how many?
The answer to that question comes back to the definition of A: It the number of couples out of 100 who have a child in any given year. So, over 12 years, that’s a total of 1200 couples. And 25 / 1200 = 2.08%.
I did the math – cheating, I used a spreadsheet – and got the following, all out of 1200 couples:
A%, C, [C rounded]
80%, 25,
75%, 33.33, 33
70%, 42.86, 43
65%, 53.85, 54
60%, 66.67, 67
55%, 81.81, 82
50%, 99.98, 100
45%, 122.13, 122
40%, 149.67, 150
35%, 184.66, 185
30%, 230.10, 230
25%, 290.50, 291
20%, 372.51, 373
But that has to mean that the rest of those 1200 couples have to have children – and the number of children will approach the average number that you chose.
So if you pick a value for A, you can calculate exactly how many childless couples there are relative to the number of families with children:
A=45%, C=122:
1200-122 = 1078
1078 families with children, 122 childless couples
1078 / 122 = 8.836
8.836 + 1 = 9.863
so 1 in 9.863 families will be childless couples.
The social pressure to marry has varied considerably through the ages, but the greater the dangers faced by the community, the greater this pressure is going to be. And the fitter and healthier you are, the greater this pressure is going to be amplified.
This is inescapable logic – the first duty of any given generation in a growing society is to replace the population who have passed away, and it takes a long time to turn children into adults.
You could calculate the average lifespan, deduct the age of social maturity, and state that society frowns heavily on unwed singles above that age, and as every year passed with the individual approaching that age, the greater the social pressure would become – and that would be a true approach.
The problem is that the average lifespan is complicated by those high rates of childhood death, and trying to extract that factor becomes really complicated and messy. And then you throw in curveballs like Elves and Dwarves, with their radically different lifespans and the whole thing ends up in a tangled mess.
So, I either have to pull a mathematical rabbit out of my hat, or I do the sensible thing and get the GM to pick a social practice and do my best to make it an informed choice.
While a purely mathematical approach is possible, the more that I looked at the question, the more difficult it became to factor every variable into the equation.
Want the bare bones? Okay, here goes.
For a given population, P, there are B marriages a year, removing B x 2 unwed individuals from the population. We can already extract the count of those who are ineligible for marriage due to age, because they are all designated as children.
We can subtract the quantity of childless couples who are already wed in a similar fashion to the calculations of the previous subsection.
The end result is the number of unwed singles of marriageable age who have not married. Setting P at a fixed value – say 100 people – we can then quickly determine the number of unmarried singles.
What ultimately killed this approach was that it was – in the final analysis – using a GM estimate of B as a surrogate for getting the GM to estimate the % of singles in their community – and doing so in a manner that was less conducive to an informed choice, and requiring a lot of calculations to end up with the number that they could have directly estimated in the first place.
Nope. Not gonna work in any practical sense.
So, instead, let’s talk about the life of the social scene – singles culture. There is still going to be all that social pressure to marry and contribute to the population, especially if you are an even half-successful adventurer, because that makes you the healthiest, wealthiest, and most prosperous members of the community.
It can be argued that instead of using the average lifespan (with all its attendant problems) and deducting the age of maturity (i.e. the age at which a child becomes an adult) to determine at what age a couple have to have children in order to keep the population at least stable (you need two children for that, since there are two adults involved, and you need to take that child mortality rate into consideration, dividing those 2 by the mortality rate and rounding up), you should use add age of the mother as a factor in the rise of the mother’s mortality during childbirth, and work back from that age. In modern times, that’s generally somewhere in the thirties, maybe up to 40. That doesn’t mean that older women can’t have children, just that under these circumstances, the risks of dying before you have enough offspring are considered too high by the general culture.
But what does that really get you? There’s always going to be some age at which the pressure to wed starts to grow. Shifting it this way or that by a couple of years won’t change much.
Looking at it from the reverse angle – how much single life will society tolerate – can be far more useful.
I would suggest a base value of a decade. Ten years to be an adventurer and live life on the edge.
In high-danger societies, especially with a high mortality rate, that might come back 2 or 3 years, At it’s most extreme, 5. That’s all the time you have to focus on becoming a professional who is able to support a family, or at least to setting your feet firmly on that path.
In low-danger societies, especially those with a lower mortality rate, it might get pushed out a few years, maybe even another 5. That’s enough time that you can spread some wild oats and still settle down into someone respectable within the community.
How long is the typical apprenticeship? In medieval times? In your fantasy game-world? From the real world, I could bandy about numbers like 4 years, or 5 years, or 5 years and 5 more learning on the job, or repaying debts to the master that trained you. And you end up with the same basic range – 5-15 years.
What is the age of maturity in your world? Again, I could throw numbers around – 18 or 21 seem to be the most common in modern society, but 16 (even 15) has its place in the discussion – that’s how old you had to be back when I was younger before you could leave school and pursue a trade, i.e. becoming an apprentice. But I have played in a number of games where apprenticeships started at eight, or twelve, and lasted a decade – and THEN you got to start repaying your mentor for the investment that he’s made in you. With interest.
Does there come a point where people are deemed anti-social because they have not married, and find their prospects of attracting a husband or wife diminishing as a result? Don’t say it doesn’t happen, because there is plenty of real-life evidence that it’s there as a social undercurrent – one that shifts, and sometimes intensifies or weakens, without real understanding of the factors that drive the phenomenon – instead, forget the real world and think about the game-world.
How optimistic / positive is the society? How grim and gritty?
Think about all these questions, because they all provide context to the basic question: What percentage of the population are unwed with no (official) children?
Here’s how I would proceed: Pick a base percentage. For every factor you’ve identified that gives greater scope for personal liberty, add 2%. For every factor that demands the sacrifice of some of that liberty, from society’s point of view, subtract 2%. In any given society, there are likely to be a blend of factors, some pushing the percentage up, and some down – but in more extreme circumstances, they might all factor up or down. If you identify a factor as especially weak, only adjust by 1%; if you judge a factor as especially strong, adjust by 3 or even 4%.
In the end, you will have a number.
Let me close out this section with some advice on setting that base percentage.
There are two competing and mutually-exclusive trains of thought when it comes to these base values. Here’s one:
▪ In positive societies, low child mortality means fewer young widows/widowers. The society is more stable, allowing for strong family formation and early marriage. Base rate is low.
▪ In moderate societies, dangers still disrupt family units, leading to a moderate rate of single, adult households. Base rate is moderate.
▪ In dangerous societies, high death rates mean many broken families, orphans, and single parents. The number of adult individuals living outside a stable family unit is maximized. Base rate is high.
Here’s the alternative perspective:
▪ Positive societies produce less social pressure and greater levels of personal freedom, reducing the rate of marriage and increasing the capacity for unwed singles. Base rate is high.
▪ Moderate societies have a positive social pressure toward marriage at a younger adult age, and less capacity for personal liberty. Base rate is moderate.
▪ Societies that swarm with danger have a higher death rate, and there would be more social pressure to marry very young to create population stability. The alternative leads to social collapse and dead civilizations.
What’s the attitude in your game world? They are all reasonable points of view.
In a high-fantasy / positive social setting, I would start with a base percentage of 22%. Most factors will tend to be positive, so you might end up with a final value of 32% – but there can be strains beneath the surface, which could lead to a result of 12% in extreme cases.
In a mid-range, fairly typical society, I would employ a base of 27%. If there are lots of factors contributing to a high singles rate, this might get as high as 37%, and if there are lots of negatives, it might come down to 17% – but for the most part, it will be somewhere close to the middle.
In an especially grim and dark world, I would employ a base of 33%, in the expectation that most factors will be negative, and lead to totals more in the 23-28% range. But if social norms have begun to break down, social institutions like marriage can fall by the wayside, and you can end up with an unsustainable total of 40-something percent.
Anything outside 20-35 should be considered unsustainable over the long run. Whatever negative impacts can apply will be rife.
That’s the final piece of the puzzle – with that information, you can assess the four types of ‘typical families’ and their relative frequency:
# Children with no parents,
# Children with mothers but no fathers,
# Children with fathers but no mothers, and
# Children with two parents.
# Childless Couples
# Unwed Singles
Get the total size of each of these family units / households* in number of individuals, multiply that size by the frequency of occurrence, add up all the results, and convert them to a percentage and you have a total population breakdown. Average the first five and you have the average family size in this particular region and all similar ones.
Multiply each frequency of occurrence by the village population total (rounding as you see fit), and you get the constituents of that village.
I have never liked the use of the term ‘households” in a demographic context, even though that seems to be the most commonly preferred term these days. I’ve lived in a number of shared accommodations as a single. over the years, and that experience muddies what’s intended to be a clearer understanding of the results. If you have 50 or 100 singles living in a youth hostel, are they one household or 50-100? Families – nuclear or non-nuclear – for me, at least, is the clearer, more meaningful, term.
In modern times, it’s not unusual for two adults and even multiple children all to have different occupations for different businesses all at the same time. Some kids start as paper boys and girls at a very young age. Even five year olds with Lemonade stands count in this context.
Go back about 100 years and that all changes. There is typically only one breadwinner – with exceptions that I’ll get to in a moment – and while some of them will have their own business (be it retail or in a service industry), most will be working for someone else.
There will be a percentage who have no fixed employment and operate as day labor.
Going into Victorian times, we have the workhouses and poorhouses, where brutal labor practices earn enough for survival but little more. While some were profitable for the owners, most earned less than they cost, and relied on charitable ‘sponsorship’ from other public institutions – sometimes governments, more often religious congregations. These are the exceptions that I mentioned. This is especially true where the father has deserted the family or died (often in war) leaving the mother to raise the children but unable to do so because of the gender biases built into the societies of the time.
Go back still further, and it was a matter of public shame for a woman to work – with but a few exceptions such as midwifery. Nevertheless, they often earned supplemental income for the families with craft skills such as sewing, knitting, and needlework.
The concept that the male was the breadwinner only gets stronger as you pass backwards through history.
Fantasy games are usually not like that. They do see the world from the modern perspective and force the historical reality to conform to that perspective. In particular, gender bias is frequently and firmly excluded from fantasy societies.
The core reasoning is that characters and players can be of either gender (or any of the supplementary gender identifications) and the makers of the games don’t wish to exclude potential markets with discomforting historical reality.
There are a few GMs out there who intentionally try to find an ‘equal but distinct’ role for females and others within their fantasy societies; it’s difficult, but it can be done – and it usually happens by excluding common males from segments of the economy within the society. If there are occupations that are only open to women, and occupations of equal merit (NOT greater merit) that are only open to men, you construct a bilateral society in which two distinct halves come together to form a whole.
But it would still be unusual for a single household to have multiple significant breadwinners; you had one principal earner and zero or more supplemental incomes ‘on the side’.
Businesses were family operations in which the whole family were expected to contribute in some way, subject to needs and ability.
And that’s the fundamental economic ‘brick’ of a community – one income per family, whether that income derives as profits from a business or from labor in someone else’s business.
You can use this as a touchstone, a window into understanding the societies of history, all the way back into classical times – who earned the money and how? In early times, it might be that you need to equate coin-based wealth with an equivalent value in goods, but once you start thinking of farm produce or refined ore as money, not as goods, the economic similarities quickly reveal themselves.
So that is also the foundation of economics in this system. One family, one income (plus possible supplements). In fact, there were periods in relatively recent history in which the supplementary income itself was justification for marriage and children.
In modern times, we evaluate based on the reduction of expenses; this is because most of our utilities don’t rise in usage as fast as the number of people using them (which goes back to the muddying concept of ‘households’; if two people are sharing the costs, both have more economic leftover to spend because the costs per person have gone down; if they are NOT sharing expenses, each providing fully for themselves, then they are two ‘households’, not one. It also helps to think of rent as a ‘utility’ within this context).
But that’s a very modern perspective, and one that only works with the modern concept of ‘utilities’ – electricity, gas, and so on. Go back before that, into the pre-industrial ages, and the perspective changes from one of diminishing liabilities into one of growth of potential advantages. And having daughters who could supplement the household income by working as maids or providing craft services gave a household an economic advantage.
8 a^2 = b^2 – c^2.
Looks simple, doesn’t it? In fact, it is oversimplified – the reality would be
a^d = (b^e – c^f ) / g,
but that’s beyond my ability to model, and too fiddly for game use.
a = the village’s profitability. Some part of this may show up as public amenities; most of it will end up in the pockets of the broader social administration, in whatever form that takes.
b = the village’s productivity, which can be simplified to the number of economic producers in the village. You could refine the model by contemplating unemployment rates, but the existence of day laborers whose average income automatically takes into account days when there’s no work to be found, means that we don’t have to.
c = the village’s internal demand for services and products. While usually less than production, it doesn’t have to be so. But it’s usually close to b in value.
To demonstrate the model, let’s throw out figures of 60 and 58 for b and c.
8 a^2 = 60^2 – 58^2 = 3600 – 3364 = 236.
a = (236 / 8)^0.5 = 29.5^0.5 = 5.43
The village grows. b rises to 62. c rises to 59.
8 a^2 = 62^2 – 59^2 = 3844 – 3481 = 363.
a = (363 / 8)^0.5 = 45.375^0.5 = 6.736.
It has risen – but not by very much.
Things become clearer if you can define c as a percentage of b:
a^2 = b^2 – (D x b^2) / 100
100 a^2 = 100 b^2 – D x b^2 = b^2 x (100-D)
If 98% of the village’s production goes to maintaining and supporting the village, then only 2% is left for economic growth. If the village adds more incomes, demand rises by the normal proportion as well – so economic growth rises, but quite slowly. In the above example calculations, 59/62 = 95.16% going to support the village – and 95% is about as low as it’s ever going to realistically go. In exceptionally productive years, it might be as low as 66.7%, but most years it’s going to be much higher than that.
Side-bar: 5.8.1.3.6.1 Good Times
You can actually model how often an exceptional year comes along, by making a couple of assumptions. First, if 66.7 is as good as they get, and 95 is as bad as an exceptionally good year gets, then the average ‘exceptional year’ will be 80.85%.
Second, if 95% is as good as a typical year gets, and 102% is as bad as a typical year gets, then the average ‘normal’ year will be 98.5%.
Third, if the long term average is 95.16%, then what we need is the number of typical years needed to raise the overall average (including one exceptional year) to 95.16%.
95.16 x (n+1) = 80.85 + (n x 98.5)
95.16 x n + 95.16 = 80.85 + 98.5 x n
(95.16 – 98.5) x n = 80.85 – 95.16
3.34 n = 14.31
n = 14.31 / 3.34 = 4.284.4-and-a-quarter normal years to every 1 good year.
You can go further, with this as a basis, and make the good years better or worse so that you end up with a whole number of years.
95.16 x (5 +1) = g + 5 x 98.5
g = 95.16 x 6 – 98.5 x 5
g = 570.96 – 492.5 = 78.46.That’s a six-year cycle with one good year averaging 78.46% of productivity sustaining the village and five typical years in which 98.5% of productivity is needed for the purpose.
I grew up on the land, and I can tell you that an industry is thriving if one year out of 10 is really good; an industry is marking time if one year out of 20 is good, and in trouble if one year in 25 or less is really profitable. One year in six is a boom.
So to close out this sidebar, let’s look at what those numbers equate to in overall economic productivity for the rural population that depend on them:
Boom: (1 x 78.46 + 5 x 98.5) / 6
= (78.46 + 492.5) / 6
= 570.96 / 6
= 95.16%
(we already knew this but it’s included for comparison)Thriving: (1 x 78.46 + 9 x 98.5) / 10
= (78.46 + 886.5) / 10
= 964.96 / 10
= 96.496Stable, Marking Time: (1 x 78.46 + 19 x 98.5) / 20
= (78.46 + 1871.5) / 20
= 1949.96 / 20
= 97.498In trouble / in economic decline: (1 x 78.46 + 24 x 98.5) / 25
= (78.46 + 2364) / 25
= 2442.46 / 25
= 97.6984Look at the differences, and how thin the lines are between growth and stagnation.
Stable to In Decline: 0.2004% change.
Stable to Thriving: 1.002% change.
Thriving to Booming: 1.336% change.
Booming to In Decline: 2.5384% change.The whole boom-bust cycle – and it can be a cyclic phenomenon – is contained within 2.54% difference in economic activity.
An aside within an aside shows why:
Boom: 95.16% = 0.9516;
0.9516 ^ 6 = 0.74255;
so 25.74% productivity goes into growth.Thriving: 96.496% = 0.96496;
0.96496 ^ 6 = 0.8073;
so 19.27% productivity goes into growth over the same six-year period.Stable: 97.498% = 0.97498;
0.97498 ^ 6 = 0.859;
14.1% of productivity goes into growth over the same six-year period.Declining: 97.6984% = 0.976984;
0.976984 ^ 6 = 0.8696;
13.04% of productivity goes into growth.Every homeowner sweats a 0.25% change in interest rates because they compound, snowballing into huge differences. This is exactly the same thing.
The generic village is perpetually dancing on a knife-edge, but the margins are so small that it’s trivially easy to overcome a bad year with a better one. Even a boom year doesn’t incite a lot of growth, but a lot of factors pulled together over a very long time, can.
Some villages won’t manage to escape the slippery slope long enough and will decline into Hamlets, but find stability at this smaller size. Given time, disused buildings will be torn down and ‘robbed’ of any useful construction material because that’s close to free, and that alone can make enough of a difference economically. With the land reclaimed, after a while you could never tell that it once was a village.
Some won’t be able to arrest their decline – whatever led to their establishment in the first place either isn’t profitable enough, or too much of the profits are being taken in fees, tithes, greed, and taxes. They decline into Thorpes.
In some cases, communities exist for a single purpose; they never grew large enough to even have permanent structures. They are strictly temporary in nature (though one may persist for dozens of years or more); they are forever categorized as Mining or Logging Camps.
Other villages have more factors pushing them to growth, and once they reach a certain size, they can organize and be recognized as a town. And some towns become cities, and some cities become a great metropolis.
With each change of scale, the services on offer to the townsfolk, and the services on offer to the traveler passing through, increase.
The fewer such services there are, the more general and generic they have to become, just to earn enough to stay in operations.
The general view of a generic village is that most services exist purely for the benefit of the locals, but a small number of operations will offer services aimed at a temporary target market, the traveler. These services are often more profitable but less reliable in terms of income, more vulnerable to changes in markets. They don’t tend to be set up by existing residents; instead, they are founded by a traveler who settles down and joins a community because they see an economic opportunity.
That means that the number of such services on offer is very strongly tied to both the growth of the village, and to the overall economic situation of the Kingdom as a whole and to the local Region of which this village is a part.
Here’s another way to look at it: The reason so much of the village’s economic potential goes into maintaining the village is because of all those tithes and taxes and so on. Some of those will be based on the land in and around the village; some on the productivity of that land; and some of it on the size and economic activity of the village. The rest provides what the village needs to sustain its population and keep everything going. There’s not a lot left – but any addition to the bottom line that isn’t eroded away by those demands makes the village and the region more profitable, creating more opportunities for sustained growth. Again, there is a snowball effect.
Some villages – and this is a social thing – don’t want the headaches and complications of growth; they like things just the way they are. They will have local rules and regulations designed to limit growth by making growth-producing business opportunities less attractive or compelling. Others desperately want growth, and will try to make themselves more attractive to operations that encourage it.
That divides villages into two main categories and a number of subcategories.
Main Category: Villages that encourage growth
Subcategory: Villages that are growing
Subcategory: Villages that are not growing
Subcategory: Villages that are being left behind, and declining.
Ratios: 40:40:20, respectively.
Main Category: Villages that are discouraging growth despite the risk of decline
Subcategory: Villages that are growing and can only slow that growth
Subcategory: Villages that have achieved stability
Subcategory: Villages that have or are declining.
Ratios: 20:40:40, respectively.
And that will about do it for this post. It will continue in part 5b!

















































































