Gareth Wild

Student ID: 12242097

Visual World-Building: Developing a Conceptual Framework for

Concept Design in Fantasy Role Playing Games.

Version: 08_Last edit: 20 February 2016

Literature Review
Chapter 2 – World-building

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Contents
2.1 The Evolution of a World-Building Theory .............................................................................2
2.2 Defining the Imaginary World ................................................................................................4
2.3 Subcategories of Imaginary Worlds ........................................................................................6
2.4 Approaches to World-building ...............................................................................................9
2.4.1 Primary Considerations and Fundamental Methods of World-building ........................10
2.4.2 Altering Primary World Defaults: Invention and Secondariness ....................................12
2.4.3 Comprehensive Plausibility: Completeness and Allusion ..............................................15
2.4.4 Consistent Plausibility: Maintaining Secondary Belief ...................................................18
2.5 Conclusion ............................................................................................................................21
References .............................................................................................................................22

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2.1 The Evolution of a World-Building Theory

The emergence of new technologies, particularly in the videogames industry, has led to a
dramatic rise in the complexity of imaginary worlds in videogames (Suichies, 2013; Wolf,
2012). Game studios are increasingly developing complex worlds and setting their games
within these worlds (Ashcraft, B, 2015; Crecente, 2015; Zacny, 2014). As world-building
increases in popularity in the conceptual development stages of videogame production, it
becomes clear that a method of building imaginary worlds outfitted specifically to concept
artists and designers will be beneficial. Additionally, smaller studios that are inexperienced in
dealing with large and complex imaginary worlds will find the aforementioned method of
particular interest, subsequently allowing them to avoiding circumstances that require
outsourcing to larger companies (Zacny, 2014). The habit of world-building itself begins in
early childhood and often continues into adulthood. The process of world-building is believed
to be instinctive, while some psychologists suggest that it may serve an evolutionary purpose
(Wolf, 2012; Holland, 2009). Further, it can be argued that the study of world-building, and
imaginary worlds, is a necessary endeavour as both the visiting and creation of imaginary
worlds is not only common and popular, but also likely to remain so (Wolf, 2012).

The earliest experience of creating and exploring imaginary worlds often occurs in childhood
play. Children create their own fictional universes – labelled “paracosms” by psychologists in
the field – to house their games of make-believe (Root-Bernstein, 2009 & 20013; Wolf, 2012).
This activity is often extended throughout adolescence with an engagement with toys, board
games, and video games, where play is removed even further from direct experience. This
engagement is frequently continued throughout adulthood, and extended with the enjoyment
of novels and other interrelated media (Wolf, 2012). The relationship between early childhood
world-building and creative success in adulthood is well documented (Wolf, 2012; Root-
Bernstein, 2009 & 2013). Well-known authors such as C. S. Lewis are prime examples, as they
not only created “paracosms” in their childhood, but also continued this activity in their adult
life.

The study of imaginary worlds and their creation is itself not a new field of study, however it is
only in recent history that a dedicated field of inquiry has emerged (Wolf, 2012). Authors such
as J. R. R. Tolkien (1947), Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1969), and Lin Carter (1973), discussed and
theorized this subject. However, the written word remained largely as the sole medium of
discussion, often overlooking the possibilities of other mediums to visually build imaginary
worlds in ways not possible in a solely written format. The philosophy of possible worlds began
to appear after 1960, with theorists such as Nelson Goodman (1978), Thomas Pavel (1986),
and Lubomir Dolezel (1998) discussing the ontological positions of fictional worlds, with
Dolezel bridging the topic into literary studies (Wolf, 2012). Although possible worlds theory
offers insight into imaginary worlds, the field of study is “more concerned with status and
modes of being than with experience and design” (Wolf, 2012 p.19). Wolf states:

Philosophical writings on fictional worlds consider mainly questions of language, with

most of their examples taken from literature, thereby neglecting imaginary worlds that
are audiovisual in nature; Media Studies, then, must pick up where they have left off.
(p.7)

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Media Studies are, however, “drawing ever closer to the world as an object of study” (Wolf,
2012 p7), and are beginning to offer scholars the tools to study imaginary worlds in their
entirety, irrespective of the medium in which the worlds are experienced. Media franchises,
“supersystems” 1 and “hyperserials” 2 are notable examples of the field of study moving
towards a more focused study of world-building, however neither of these focus solely on the
imaginary world. Supersystems, while acknowledging the possibility of imaginary worlds to
exist in various media, are solely concerned with characters, as opposed to the worlds
themselves (Kinder, 1991; Wolf, 2012). Hypererials, however, offer a prediction of what is now
known as transmedia storytelling (Murray, 1997; Wolf, 2012). Henry Jenkins (2006) coined the
term transmedia storytelling, defined as the “distribution of stories over and across a variety
of media” (Wolf, 2012 p.9). Transmedia stories rely on a rich, highly detailed world, and
therefore the world must be central to their development (Jenkins, 2006; 2007; Wolf, 2012).

Although the field of Media Studies is slowly converging towards the study of imaginary
worlds, it is still “an area largely overlooked” (Wolf, 2012 p.2) and currently lacks focus.
Imaginary worlds are often viewed as secondary elements – merely a setting in which either
the narrative takes place (as is often the case in literature studies, or narratology), or within
which ludological elements can be implemented (which is commonplace in games studies).
Outside of Media Studies, imaginary worlds are often studied indirectly, and for the purposes
of studying other phenomena. For example, Mike Moleworth (2006) looks at imaginary worlds
only as a potential means to further brand placement. Similarly, Nick Yee et al. (2011) look at
the virtual world 3 of World of Warcraft (Blizzard Entertainment, 2004) as a means to evaluate
player personality traits. A substantial reason for this is that transmedial imaginary worlds are
often tremendous in scale, and subsequently more difficult to “encapsulate in a description or
analysis than a particular story, character, or situation” (Wolf, 2012 p.2). Additionally,
imaginary worlds are regularly overlooked as they are built upon and expanded regularly,
making analysis more difficult for the scholar. (Wolf, 2012)

The introduction of transmedia storytelling was a catalyst in the field of Media Studies, with
many scholars now realising the importance of imaginary worlds in various disciplines (Wolf,
2012). Although this importance is largely understood, a world-centred method of analysis is
still in its infancy, and the field itself still lacks focus. Considering both the scope of imaginary
worlds, the rate at which the videogame industry is growing (ESA, 2015), and the industry’s
increasing reliance on world-building, a more focused, industry-centric approach to world-
building is needed. Furthermore, if such an approach is built upon the consideration of
imaginary worlds in their entirety, the relationship between the visual development of
videogames and world-building theory can be maintained. Essentially, this will not only further
unify the study of imaginary worlds as a field of study, but also ensures that industry specific
needs are being met.

1
Marsha Kinder defines a supersystem as “a network of intertextuality constructed around a figure or
group of figures from pop culture who are either fictional… or real” (1991 p.122-123).
2
Mark Wolf defines Janet Murray’s term “hyperserial” as a nonlinear, continuing story that has the
possibility of existing in multiple media (2012).
3
A virtual world is understood to be type of imaginary world that exists online, particularly as a
component of a video game. It exists irrespective of its users, who can interact with each other and the
world itself, and objects within it. (Wolf, 2012)

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2.2 Defining the Imaginary World

In order to gain an understanding of world-building in the context of videogames, an

understanding of imaginary worlds must first be reached. As discussed previously, although
media studies are slowly converging into a unified study of imaginary worlds, a discipline of
studying imaginary worlds themselves is still in its infancy. Mark Wolf is a pioneer in this area,
offering the most relevant and focused material on the subject to date. His seminal book
Building Imaginary Worlds: The Theory and History of Subcreation (2012) is the first of its kind,
and offers an encompassing overview of imaginary worlds across different media. It is in this
regard that his work is primarily responsible for informing this chapter.

Imaginary Worlds are defined by Wolf (2012) as an amalgamation of all the environments
experienced by a fictional character, or could be experienced by a fictional character in a work
of fiction. These environments unify to create a sense of place which is “ontologically different
from the actual, experiential realm” (p.337). Imaginary worlds are varied in scale and exist
irrespective of not only media, but also narrative, with many imaginary worlds existing in
transmedial, transnarritive, and/or transauthorial states 4 (Dolezel, 2000; Wolf, 2012).

The current understanding of what constitutes an imaginary world has been developed largely
from the work of J. R. R. Tolkien and Samuel Taylor Coleridge (Wolf, 2012). Coleridge, in a
lecture on imagination, argued against the dominant thought of the time: that imagination
was a simple recollection of sensory data (Coleridge, 1969; Wolf, 2012). Coleridge’s assertion
was that there are two distinct forms of the imagination: the Primary Imagination, and the
Secondary Imagination. The Primary Imagination acts “unconsciously, as we conceptualize the
world around us and our place in it”, while the Secondary Imagination “is conscious and
deliberate…as a creative act” (Wolf, 2012 p.22). The conception of two separate systems of
imagination was later extended by George MacDonald (1893), and Tolkien (1947).

Furthering Coleridge’s idea of two distinct forms of imagination, Primary Imagination and
Secondary Imagination, Tolkien argues that there are two distinct forms of Worlds – the
Primary World, and secondary worlds. Although Coleridge asserts that story-makers possess
the ability to create Literary Belief – “the willing suspension of disbelief” (Tolkien, 1947 p.52),
this belief relies on consistent laws of reality within the created world (MacDonald, 1893;
Tolkien, 1947; Wolf, 2012). Tolkien makes a leap from Coleridge and MacDonald, in that he
avoids “philosophical pitfalls encountered with other terms like “reality” and “fantasy”” (Wolf,
2012 p.23), by asserting that these worlds are secondary worlds and exist within the “real” or
Primary World. Tolkien’s naming convention is built upon Coleridge’s notion of Primary and
Secondary Imagination, and is used only to make a distinction between imaginary worlds and
the Primary world (Coleridge, 1969; Tolkien, 1947; Wolf, 2012). It is in this regard that the
terms imaginary world and secondary world are largely interchangeable.

This process of creating imaginary worlds within the Primary World is inherently limited in that
creators can only reference what exists in the Primary World. Therefore, story-makers make

4
Transmedial, transnarrative, and transauthorial imaginary worlds are described by Mark Wolf (2012) as
imaginary worlds that exist across various media, include separate narrative strands, and offer separate
narratives written by multiple authors respectively.

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imaginary worlds by referencing the Primary World, and when the inner reality is complete
and consistent, Secondary Belief, as opposed to the willing suspension of disbelief, is engaged
(Tolkien, 1947; Wolf, 2012). To create an imaginary world, then, implies that the creator’s
intention is to create belief in that world, and by extension relates directly to creators who do
so “for reasons beyond that of merely providing a backdrop to a story” (Wolf, 2012 p.24).

The creation of an imaginary world is to create a new world within the Primary World for the
purpose of engaging Secondary Belief. Tolkien calls this process Subcreation 5 (Tolkien, 1947).
The term Subcreation means to “create under”, referring to the inability of the creator to
create from nothing, but instead relying on Primary World references (Wolf, 2012). Wolf
states:

Subcreation, then, involves new combinations of existing concepts, which, in the

building of a secondary world, become the inventions that replace or reset Primary
World defaults… The more one changes these defaults, the more the secondary world
becomes different and distinct form the Primary World. (Wolf, 2012 p.24)

If an imaginary world is a collection of elements that both conform to, and deviate from
Primary World defaults, then the degree of secondariness 6 a world exhibits relies solely on the
degree of these deviations. These elements may include, but are not limited to: events,
culture, and natural and social environments. Considering the degree in variation between
Primary World defaults, a secondary world becomes experiential rather than geographical.
Further, it is possible for Primary World settings to include deviations from Primary World
defaults and still be considered Primary in essence. With this in mind, the introduction of
further qualifiers allows a more concrete distinction of what constitutes an imaginary world
(Wolf, 2012).

In addition to deviations from Primary World defaults, an imaginary world should also have “a
distinct border partitioning it from the Primary World” (Wolf, 2012 p.25). A border not only
separates the imaginary world from the Primary World absolutely, but also heightens
secondary belief due to a perceived remoteness. The border separating the imaginary world
from the Primary World may be geographical or temporal – Uchronias 7 such as the Hyborean
Age in Robert E. Howard’s Conan series are a prime example of secondary worlds separated by
a temporal border (Wolf, 2012).

An imaginary world, however, should also be measured by the degree to which it has been
developed. Certain imaginary worlds which exist within the Primary World, and which also
contain small alterations to Primary world defaults, can still be considered secondary as their
fictional elements have been developed to such an extent that they become believable – for

5
Tolkien’s term Subcreation is largely interchangeable with world-building. The “sub” prefix is used to
emphasise the creation process by means of remixing existing concepts found in the Primary World.
(Wolf, 2012)
6
Secondariness is a term used by Wolf (2012) to describe the degree to which an imaginary world
deviates from the Primary Wolrd – essentially this refers to the level of invention, or subcreation,
employed by the world-builder, a topic which will be discussed later in this chapter.
7
A uchronia is understood to be an unspecified or fictional period of time, more commonly in the far
distant past, or far distant future (Renouvier, 1876; Wolf, 2012). This is discussed further in a later
section.

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example, the imaginary world has been mapped, multiple stories have been set in the location,
and/or characters and locations are well developed. Such worlds may be considered
imaginary, however their degree of secondariness is limited. It is therefore necessary to view
secondary worlds “along a spectrum of attachment to, or reliance on, the Primary World… and
its defaults” (Wolf, 2012 p.27). Measuring a world’s secondariness along Wolf’s spectrum
would have secondary worlds closest to the Primary World lie at one end, while secondary
worlds furthest away from the Primary World, and which subsequently involve the highest
degree of subcreation, lie on the other end (visualised by the author in Figure 1). Although
useful, the linear nature of Wolf’s spectrum leaves room for further clarification by scholars in
the field, as the parameters determining where an imaginary world should be placed are not
immediately clear. A system to determine the degree of secondariness of an imaginary world
is yet to be developed.

Figure 1. Wolf's spectrum of secondariness as visualised by the author.

2.3 Subcategories of Imaginary Worlds

Beyond determining the secondariness of an imaginary world, various subcategories of

imaginary worlds have been offered by both scholars and industry professionals. As previously
stated, an imaginary world’s secondariness is determined by both its degree of subcreation
and also its independence from the Primary World (Wolf, 2012). Imaginary worlds can be
placed within a spectrum of secondariness, however the determination of where an imaginary
world is situated within the spectrum remains fairly vague. Beyond Wolf’s spectrum, scholar’s
and industry professionals have offered various systems of classification that aid the scholar in
determining how secondary an imaginary world is, while also offering further clarification as to
the particulars of that world. Beyond classifying imaginary worlds, scholars have also
speculated as to why writers of speculative fiction create worlds that are unattached to the
Primary World.

Lin Carter (1973) argues that writing speculative fiction involves degrees of risk to the writer if
their imaginary world is not sufficiently removed from the Primary World. Carter suggests that
when the world-builder creates imaginary worlds closely aligned with Primary World history,
or established myths and legends, the creative freedoms of the world-builder are severely
limited. Carter states:

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 Borrowing an established world of myth or heroic legend for the setting of a new and
original story, involves the author in historical and literary research which can sharply
curtail and influence his own imaginative concept, since his new story should not
violate any strictures of the original world-picture the writer is using. (Carter, 1973
p.178)

Alternatively, Carter advises world-builders to create imaginary worlds that fall into one of
four broad classifications: 1) the Primary World before recorded history, 2) the Primary World
in the remote future, 3) a parallel world, or 4) a distinctly different/separate world. Although
all four of Carter’s classifications are secondary in nature, varying degrees of subcreation can
be observed throughout them (Figure 2). For example, classifications one and two rely heavily
on established Primary World defaults for example: technology in pre-history, perceived
technological advances based on current technology in the Primary World. Parallel worlds may
vary from the Primary World, however ontological deviations are limited. Lastly, completely
different worlds offer the greatest deviations from the Primary World as they may rely very
little on established defaults. Considering the apparent correlations between ontological
change, Primary World independence, and the freedom to employ subcreated elements,
additional layers of classification are required to further these relationships.

Figure 2. Carter's classifications of imaginary worlds and their degree of secondariness, as

interpreted and visualised by the author.

Wolfgang Baur (2012b) offers further classification by segregating imaginary worlds 8 into
categories based on their relationship to the Primary World. Similarly to Wolf (2012), Baur
separates these worlds based on the degree of variation to the Primary World each category
exhibits. Baur (2012b) states that gamers who indulge in tabletop fantasy role-playing games
frequently request “more realism or, at least, plausibility and verisimilitude” (p.25) in the
imaginary worlds within which their games are situated. These imaginary worlds are distinct
from other traditional variations and can be placed broadly into two general categories: 1) real
worlds, which are generally based on historical fact, myths, or legends, and 2) pure fantasy

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Although Baur (2012b) refers each category as settings, this is a term used to describe imaginary
worlds in table-top fantasy role-playing games (Baur, 2012a). Additionally, these settings qualify as
imaginary worlds when tested against Mark Wolf’s (2012) definition of imaginary world, along with his
imaginary world spectrum of secondariness.

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worlds, which are pure inventions or built upon a particular concept. These two categories can
be divided further, offering two additional sub-categories in each division (Figure 3).

Figure 3. Baur's categories and sub-categories of imaginary worlds as visualised by the author

Real worlds are split into historical worlds, and real fantasy worlds. Historical worlds the least
secondary of the four as they are set within the Primary World and founded on historical fact,
historical settings, myths, and/or legends. Examples of historical worlds may include: worlds
based on Arthurian Legend, or the aforementioned pre-historical worlds put forward by Carter
(1974). Although additional subcreated elements may be introduced, they are comparatively
minor and insignificant to the already established histories, myths, and legends upon which
they were built. The second sub-category: real fantasy worlds are similar in their foundations
in established histories, myths, and legends, however there is a much greater emphasis placed
on subcreated elements employed by the world-builder. What separates real fantasy worlds
from other imaginary worlds with high degrees of secondariness, is that they would not be
understood without reference to pre-existing cultural defaults, for example: established myths
or creatures of legend. While historical worlds suggest an altered history with minor/hidden
elements of fantasy, Real Fantasy worlds suggest exaggerated versions of established tales
(Baur, 2012b).

Pure fantasy worlds are separated into anchored fantasy worlds and wild-eyed wahoo worlds.
anchored fantasy worlds involve large degrees of subcreation, however the majority of
subcreated elements are based largely on Primary World defaults. This ensures that anchored
fantasy worlds remain plausible, despite the large degrees of subcreation (Baur, 2012b).
Additionally, anchored fantasy worlds might include degrees of ontological variation – such as
the inclusion of magic, or otherworldly beings, however these inclusions do not challenge the
Primary World defaults upon which the world was built. An example of an anchored fantasy
world would be Tolkien’s Middle Earth, as many of his subcreated elements reference Primary
World defaults. For example, the similarities between Tolkien’s Rohirrim culture and the
historic culture of Anglo-Saxons have been suitably illustrated (Honegger, 2011; Wolf, 2012).
Conversely, although wild-eyed wahoo worlds also contain large degrees of subcreation, they
are far removed from Primary World defaults. Such deviations often include large degrees of
ontological variation – changes to the nature of reality and the way in which the world

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functions. A classic example of this is Frank Baum’s Oz, wherein Alice, the protagonist, is
subject to a multitude of reality bending experiences.

Beyond real worlds and pure fantasy worlds are utopias, dystopias, and uchronias. Although
popularised by Thomas More’s book Utopia (1516), utopias as a concept can be traced to
antiquity (More, 1869; Wolf 2012). Utopias, as described by Wolf, are “an ideal community or
society with a perfect form of governance” (p.382). Idealistic in nature, the term utopia is
taken from the Greek to mean “no place”. Conversely, a dystopia can be described as an
oppressive and terrible utopia (Wolf, 2012). Typically involving a voyage of to reach – be it
planetary, inter-planetary, or similar – it can be argued that utopias and dystopias are typically
separated from the Primary World by geographical borders (Grove, 1975; Wolf, 2012).
Considering that utopias and dystopias involve high degrees of subjectivity – involving notions
of ideal governance – it is important to understand that what might constitute a utopia to
some visitors, might describe a dystopia to others. Further, utopian and dystopian imaginary
worlds simply describe the society of the imaginary world’s inhabitants – the nature of the
imaginary world itself exists irrespective to the nature of the imaginary world. For example, a
utopia is as likely to be found within a real fantasy world as it is to be found within an
anchored fantasy world. It is in this regard that world-builders should view the concept of
utopian and dystopian societies as a flourish or lens through which they shape their imaginary
society.

Lastly, the term uchronia originates from Charles Renouvier’s novel Uchronie (1876). The term
uchronia follows the naming convention of utopia and translates literally as “no time”,
describing a fictional period of time within which a narrative takes place (Renouvier, 1876;
Wolf, 2012). Similar to utopias and dystopias, uchroias are not tied to one particular category
of imaginary world. Imaginary worlds set in the distant past and distant future can be classified
as uchronias, so too can alternate histories.

In summary, beyond simply determining the degree of secondariness exhibited by an

imaginary world, scholars and industry professionals alike offer various imaginary world
classifications. These classifications not only provide the scholar with a greater understanding
of imaginary worlds, but also offer the world-builder a set of fundamental tools through which
they can frame their creation. By understanding both the classification of an imaginary world,
and also the degree of secondariness it exhibits, world-builders can begin to gain a higher
understanding of the common frameworks used to construct similar imaginary worlds. Beyond
this base understanding, however, it is beneficial for the world-builder to explore various
techniques and strategies designed to maintain Secondary Belief.

2.4 Approaches to World-building

As mentioned previously, the examination of imaginary worlds and their particulars, as a

scholarly discipline, is a relatively new field of study. World-building strategies, along with
analyses of their creator’s processes, are similarly recent areas of inquiry. Writers of
speculative fiction have begun to compile various approaches and principles regarding the

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internal logic that other writers have, and should, adhere to in order to maintain Secondary
Belief. Literary studies offer various explorations, speculations, and investigations of Tolkien’s
imaginary world in particular, focussing heavily on determining his sources. Although
insightful, many of these inquiries are not designed in the first instance to aid the world-
builder in the creation of imaginary worlds, but instead seek to establish how writers achieved
their endeavours.

Outside of speculative fiction, game makers – particularly those that make table-top
roleplaying games – and enthusiasts have also contributed to this area, offering world-building
methods catered specifically to their industry. It can be argued that most, if not all, of the
strategies, approaches, and methods appear to share a common goal: maintaining Secondary
Belief by ensuring that the imaginary world is not only interesting, but also that the internal
logic of the imaginary world is sound.

Approaches to world-building vary dramatically contingent on not only the type of imaginary
world, but also the world’s intended method of visitation. For example, an imaginary world
designed for a relatively small tabletop role-playing game – commonly referred to as setting
design (Baur, 2012a) – would usually be designed differently to one that is to be used for
transmedial purposes. Some imaginary worlds are evolved over time, while others may be
designed in their entirety before they are used in any capacity.

In videogames, it has become increasingly more common to design the imaginary world first,
and subsequently set various franchise entries within the imaginary world (Ashcraft, 2015;
Zacny, 2014). A clear example of this can be observed in how the videogame studio Ready At
Dawn developed The Order: 1886 (2015). In an interview with Polygon, CEO and creative
director Ru Weerasuriya revealed that they now build worlds “purely for the purpose of
making more than one game” (Crecente, 2015). Considering the comparatively large budget
required to create an imaginary world of this scope, it can be argued that developers would
intentionally create multiple games set within the already established world can help to offset
the cost. The following subsections explore the more comprehensive strategies designed to aid
world-builders. The sources include both world-building scholars and industry professionals in
order to provide balance between theory and practical application.

2.4.1 Primary Considerations and Fundamental Methods of World-

building

The first consideration a world-builder must make is whether the imaginary world will be small
or large in scope. Additionally, it should be considered whether or not smaller imaginary
worlds will grow over time, or conversely, if it will be beneficial to design the world as whole –
adding more detail over time. Pramas (2012) defines these approaches as: Inside Out Design,
and Outside In Design respectively.

Inside Out Design is arguably the most practical approach for traditional role-playing games, as
it simply involves the design of relatively small imaginary worlds. These particular worlds
encompass only what is necessary to play the game – any other areas in the imaginary world

10
are not considered. As subsequent games are played, and new settings are required, the
world-builder will design them, ensuring that they remain consistent to the previous areas.
After a considerable amount of areas have been designed, the imaginary world in its entirety
will begin to take shape. Pramas suggests however, that this approach often leads to
inconsistencies as the imaginary worlds grow larger. Conversely, Outside In Design requires
that the world-builder creates a plan for the imaginary world, inserting more detail and
settings as the game requires it. This approach allows for greater consistency in the overall
design as the initial plan will ensure, to some extent, that each setting adheres to a formal
system of relationship. An exhaustive example of Outside-In Design can be seen in the
methods put forward by Stephen Gillet in his book World-Building (1996). Although no
information is given on the construction of societies or cultures, Gillet describes the particulars
of creating entire planets for use in writing speculative fiction. Although Prama’s suggests that
detail should only be added when necessary, Gillet stands as a strong example of just how far
some world-builders will go to ensure that a logical baseline informs their creation. Outside In
Design, although founded on the principle of adding detail only when needed, shares
similarities to Topofocal approaches.

Almost an extension of Outside-In Design, a topofocal approach to world-building describes a

process in which the world-builder begins with the design of a map (Elkman, 2013; Roberts,
2012, Wolf, 2012). While maps can be understood as an important element of imaginary
worlds, alluding to many elements not specifically exposed to the visitor, they can also be used
to inform the creation of the imaginary world itself (Carter, 1973; Roberts, 2012; Wolf, 2012).
Roberts (2102), a professional cartographer, presents a system wherein the world-builder
begins the creation of the imaginary world with a careful construction of map. It is suggested
that the world-builder should begin by designing the placement of countries and what key
elements separate them, whether they be geological or political. Following this, Roberts
suggests the design flow should follow: the inclusion of mountains, rivers, and finally regional
climates. Following this pattern allows the world-builder to logically place cities, roads, and
nations in the imaginary world while maintaining logical baselines, and subsequently
maintaining Secondary Belief.

Employing a topofocal approach to world-building may lead to the creation of a more logical
imaginary world. It is important however, that further systems of relationship be utilized by
the world-builder in order to ensure that the imaginary world remains consistent in its design
(Carter, 1973; Wolf, 2012). These systems of relationship and their particulars will be
examined later in this chapter.

The Outside-In Design approach alongside a topofocal approach may extend the design into an
almost encyclopaedic design. Designing an imaginary world in this way is not uncommon, with
Tolkien’s Silmarillion (1977) serving as a strong example of what is commonly referred to as a
world bible (Hungerford, 2012). Containing a detailed breakdown of Tolkien’s imaginary world,
alongside details of various cultures, myths, and histories, it is important to note that the
Silmarillion was used by Tolkien to maintain a level of consistency in his work (Wolf, 2012).
While impressive, The Silmarillion was developed over the course of Tolkien’s life, with detail
and corrections being added over time. The book, like many design bibles was a living design
document and was not developed all at once (Hungerford, 2012, Tolkien, 1977; Wolf, 2012). It

11
is in this regard that it stands simply as a more complete and detailed variation of the Outside-
In Design approach, wherein the world-builder adds detail when necessary.

The level of detail required by the world-builder when creating an imaginary world can vary
dramatically. Arguably, this is dependent on not only the degree of secondariness they wish
the world to exhibit, but also how consistent and complete the imaginary world needs to
appear if secondary belief is to be maintained. The development of world-bibles is relatively
commonplace in the games industry, with many individuals contributing to them regularly
(Hungerford, 2012). Regardless of how convenient world-bibles are, many considerations and
contemplations must still be addressed by world-builders.

2.4.2 Altering Primary World Defaults: Invention and Secondariness

In order for a world-builder to maintain Secondary Belief in their imaginary world, a high
degree of invention, completeness, and consistency is required (Wolf, 2012). Invention, the first
of these elements, refers to the degree to which the imaginary world’s defaults deviate from
the Primary World – essentially, invention determines how secondary an imaginary world
appears. These deviations must be logical and not random if secondary belief is to be
maintained (Baur, 2012a & 2012b; Carter, 1973; Tolkien, 1947; Stackpole, 2012; Wolf, 2012).
Additionally, the more secondary a world becomes by altering Primary World defaults, the
more difficult it will be for the world-builder to maintain this internal logic. Wolf (2012)
categorises the elements of invention into four areas: nominal, cultural, natural, and
ontological.

Nominal change refers to the naming of new things, or to the simple renaming of existing
things, and stands as the slightest deviation possible in an imaginary world (Carter, 1973; Wolf,
2012). However slight, a word-builder should consider the way in which they structure their
new names and/or languages. Although the depth of Tolkien’s language creation in the The
Lord of the Rings, or George R. R. Martin’s languages in his A Song of Fire and Ice series are
impressive, it can be argued that a world-builder does not have to go to such lengths to create
convincing names. A logical baseline, however, should be maintained.

Lin Carter (1973) calls the process of creating new words neocognomina, and warns of several
pitfalls a world-builder can fall into when creating new names. Neocognomina differs from
conglang – a term commonly used to define a constructed language (Wolf, 2012), the
particulars of which will be covered in a later section – in that it is far less encompassing,
serving primarily as a tool to offer slight deviations from Primary World defaults. These
deviations may be invented names, the altering of common words such as “hello”, or new
words that represent new concepts in the imaginary world. Carter (1973) states that the most
common techniques involve the transmogrifying of nouns either through the subtraction of
syllables and/or the addition of vowels, or to simply create new names “full of X’s, Z’s, and
Q’s” (p.193). These processes often lead to incorrect sounding names and should be avoided if
secondary belief is to be maintained. A world-builder should instead be wary of the
etymological roots of the noun, and should avoid using insignificant nouns as a foundation for

12
significant names in the imaginary world. For example, it would be illogical to name a large,
prosperous, imaginary city after a small farming village in the Primary World.

Moreover, a world-builder should endeavour to make it difficult for the visitor to determine
the source of a new name, subsequently minimising the risk of extinguishing secondary belief.
Carter argues that “Aptness” should be the primary criteria to determine the validity of a new
name and that World-builders should be aware of what the name will signify when heard. The
world-builder should also endeavour to create an internal logic in their naming conventions
and adhere to it. For example, “lok” might refer to a King, while “El’lok” might refer to a
Kingdom – the reoccurrence of the “lok” element creates an association between the two
words. Therefore, it can be argued that successful neocognomina results from the use of apt
nouns in logical combinations, whose elements reoccur where relevant. (Carter, 1973)

Cultural change is the second element of invention, and is an area likely to influence the
perceived secondariness of an imaginary world (Wolf, 2012). Cultural change, in this context,
refers to anything that intelligent lifeforms have created within the imaginary world, for
example: societies, religion, technology, architecture, and clothing etc. World-builders will
often base their invented cultural elements on Primary World defaults, not only to provide a
strong, logical baseline, but also to reduce confusion and misunderstanding by the visitor – the
stronger a relationship is between the imaginary element and the Primary World default, the
stronger the secondary belief will be (Baur, 2012b; Wolf, 2012). However, if an element is too
close to its Primary World default, the secondariness of the imaginary world will be lessened
(Wolf, 2012). Honegger (2011) observes an example of this in Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings by
comparing Tolkien’s race of the Rohirrim to Anglo Saxons. The Rohirrim remain, however
original they appear, close enough to their source so that the reader would inherently
understand them with minimal explanation.

As suggested by Baur (2012b), the type of imaginary world the world-builder is creating will
often determine the degree of cultural change within. For example, a high fantasy imaginary
world would have a large degree of cultural change, while a real fantasy imaginary world
would inherently retain many Primary World cultural defaults. Additionally, high fantasy
imaginary worlds with large degrees of cultural change often interlink these cultural changes
with the following element of invention: natural change (Baur, 2012b; Roberts, 2012).

The third element of invention is natural change (Wolf, 2012). Natural change deals with flora,
fauna, and geographical elements, of varying complexities. Natural change may be as slight as
a single alteration of a Primary World default in order to introduce secondary elements to an
otherwise Primary World setting, or the changes may be as involved as creating entire
continents, ecosystems, or even planetary systems. Large degrees of natural change often
occur when a world-builder is engaged in the encyclopaedic approach (Baur, 2012a; Gillet,
1996; Schmidt, 1995; Wolf, 2012), however it is important to note that this may be an
intentional effort on behalf of the world-builder, or simply a by-product of their design
method, especially if designing from the inside-out. Natural change may be interlinked with
the following element of invention: ontological change, which would subsequently influence
elements of cultural change within an imaginary world (Wolf, 2012).

13
Ontological change is the final element of invention, and is inherent to most wild-eyed wahoo
imaginary worlds (Baur, 2012b; Wolf, 2012). A high degree of ontological change will
intrinsically lead to imaginary worlds that are vastly different from the Primary World (Baur,
2012b; Wolf, 2012). Ontological change alters the reality of the imaginary world itself – for
example, the insertion of magic, or the introduction of abnormal laws of physics would both
be considered ontological changes. The introduction of familiar ontological changes, for
example the inclusion of magic or faster-than-light travel, have become a common convention
in the fantasy genre – warranting little explanation to be understood or believed (Wolf, 2012).
As these changes become more complex, original, and secondary in nature, the world-builder
has to ensure that the consequences of such alterations are reflected in other areas such as
cultural, and natural change. For example, the inclusion of healing magic in a society would
raise questions of healthcare in the general populace. Additionally, a world-builder should be
aware of the ramifications of an imaginary world that includes extremely powerful and
accessible magic (Baker, 2012). As with the three previous elements of invention, successful
ontological change relies on a strong, logical baseline, and should be interconnected to the
other elements of invention: nominal, cultural, and natural change (Wolf, 2012).

Interestingly, the elements of invention can be subdivided into two areas, with a third area of
relationship also emerging (Figure 5a). The first two elements: nominal change, and cultural
change, are areas likely to be defined by the inhabitants of the imaginary world. Conversely,
the last two elements: natural change, and ontological change, are areas that the inhabitants
would usually have minimal agency to change, and which will also influence the first two
elements. The second and third elements: cultural change, and natural change, are explained
by Wolf (2012) as the two elements most likely to have the greatest balance between the
imaginary world and the Primary World.

Figure 4. Breakdown of the elements of invention and their interrelationships as interpreted

and visualised by the author.

14
In order to maintain Secondary Belief, these elements of invention “must remain analogous, in
some way, to the Primary World in order to be comprehensible” (Wolf, 2012 p.37). It stands to
reason then, that a world-builder should begin by defining the ontological and natural
elements of the world, followed by the invention of cultural and nominal elements (Figure 5b).
Considering the depths required to sustain logical baselines in natural changes and cultural
changes, further systems of relationship must be identified and taken into consideration by
the world-builder.

In summary, the degree of invention employed in the world-building process will inherently
determine the secondariness of the imaginary world. Similarly, the degree of secondariness an
imaginary world exhibits will determine the amount of explanation required by the visitor in
order to maintain Secondary Belief. The explanation of the changes to Primary World defaults
will often rely on interconnecting, logical baselines. Essentially, each element of invention
should be analogous not only to each other, but also to the Primary World defaults upon
which they were built. If invention refers to the secondariness of an imaginary world, then
completeness refers to the degree to which these elements are realised, or appear to be
realised (Wolf, 2012).

2.4.3 Comprehensive Plausibility: Completeness and Allusion

After Invention, Completeness is the subsequent requirement of successful world-building,

utilized to create an illusion of a complete imaginary world. Although an imaginary world
cannot become wholly complete, a world-builder must provide enough information to the
visitor that it appears not only whole, but also feasible, and practical (Dolezel, 2000; Wolf,
2012). Elements, such as food production, leisure activities, economies, and governance, will
usually be thought of by the visitor as inconsequential flourishes. It is these elements,
however, that will usually be the details that hint of a fully developed, practical imaginary
world (Wolf, 2012).

It has been noted that visitors to imaginary worlds will displace any attention to the Primary
World when engaged with an imaginary world. Further, the more detail that is delivered to the
visitor directly affects this displacement (Holland, 2009; Wolf, 2012). What this means for the
world-builder is that an abundance of detail not only creates the illusion of a complete
imaginary world, but also increases the likelihood of maintaining Secondary Belief. Wolf states:

When there are so many secondary world details to keep in mind that one struggles to
remember them all while experiencing the world, to the point where secondary world
details crowd out thoughts of the immediate Primary World, saturation occurs. (Wolf,
2012 p. 49)

Together with conceptual immersion (the experience of being fully engaged with the imaginary
world), and absorption (the action of being pulled into the imaginary world through
interaction), saturation is a valid component of world-building in maintaining Secondary Belief
(Wolf, 2012). Further, Wolf argues that saturation, as a component of world-building, can be

15
utilized by world-builders to allude to elements of the imaginary world that are not directly
indicated to the visitor.

Wolf (2012) calls the allusion to subjects beyond the immediate view of the visitor world
gestalten. Noting its roots in Gestalt psychology, Wolf highlights the mind’s preference in “the
whole, rather than the sum of its parts” (p.51). The mind actively fills in the gaps that are not
presented to the viewer, occurring in much the same way as in narrative gestalt 9. Wolf posits
that the gestalt can apply to imaginary worlds, calling these gaps world gestalten:

…in which a structure or configuration of details together implies the existence of an

imaginary world, and causes the audience to automatically fill in the missing pieces of
that world, based on the details that are given. (p.52)

Wolf argues that when high amounts of detail of an imaginary world are given to the visitor,
the gaps that lie between the details become smaller. Therefore, the more details that are
given will directly influence the importance of the world gestalt. Further, larger gaps in detail
require a larger degree of effort on behalf of the visitor in order for them to be closed. Lastly,
Wolf argues that it is generally only the invented elements of an imaginary world that requires
explaining. Primary World defaults that remain within the imaginary world (for example, a
classic medieval caste system, or the stereotypical gender roles of an imagined race) can be
taken for granted by the visitor, allowing the world-builder to rely on the world gestalt to close
the gaps.

If the secondary elements of an imaginary world require explaining, and the remaining Primary
World defaults can be taken for granted, it can be argued that the explanation of the
secondary elements are of high concern to the world-builder. If an imaginary world fails to
explain these elements, Secondary Belief may be lessened. An example of this can be observed
in the design of The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword (Nintendo, 2011) in which a large,
centrally located bazaar in the city of Skyfall breaks the internal logic of the imaginary world
(Thorpe, 2013). Considering that the city is an isolated landmass in the sky, the narrative and
visual storytelling within the game fails to explain why the design of the structure deviates so
drastically from the other buildings, and from where the sold goods within the structure
originate. Conversely, additional strategies were employed by the designers in an attempt to
maintain Secondary Belief in other ways. For example, each room belonging to the inhabitants
of the city was personalised and designed to appear lived in. Capitalising on the world gestalt
in this manner allowed the designers to suggest that each inhabitant lives a life not seen by the
visitor, subsequently suggesting a more realised world.

Of particular concern to the world-builder is not only the number of elements that need to be
explained, but also the degree to which each element will need to be explained to the visitor
(Carter, 1973; Wolf, 2012). Carter explains that the more secondary an imaginary world
becomes, the more explanation is required to understand that imaginary world. Consider the
following two examples:

9
Narrative gestalt is understood to be a ”configuration of details which implies a sequence of casually-
linked events, constituting a story, for which the audience fills in ellipsized actions or details, based on
the sequence’s narrative logic.” (Wolf, 2012, p.378)

16
 Joseph needs to travel to England to attend a job interview for a film director position.
1
He travels to England by Plane.
Primary world elements: Secondary world elements:
England (place) N/A
Job (concept)
Job interview (process)
Film Director (role)
Plane (transportation)

Elrik needs to travel to Asmoorda to enslave the soul of the necromancer Maelokai. He
2
travels to Asmoorda by the ancient Kalrect portal systems.
Primary world elements: Secondary elements:
N/A Asmoorda (place)
Soul enslavement (process)
Necromancy (concept)
Necromancer (role)
Ancient Kalrect portal system (Transportation)

The examples above illustrate two simple narratives: one is set in the primary world, while the
other is set in a secondary world. Example 1 requires little explanation as the narrative is set
within a relatable space – the Primary World. When the text is read, the reader understands
the concepts within it. Conversely, example 2 is set within an imaginary world – the narrative
can be understood on a base level, however further explanation is required. Each element
within the narrative is an invention and subsequently requires elaboration for the visitor to
truly understand it and subsequently believe it (Carter, 1973; Wolf, 2012).

A challenge present within each example is one of involving the visitor. Each narrative requires
the reader to become involved with the protagonist – will Joseph get the job? Will Elrik enslave
Maelokai’s soul? Each invented element needs to appear real and relatable somehow in order
to increase the reader’s secondary belief – the reader must take seriously a number of
elements that defy common logic and understanding.

In summary, the completeness of an imaginary world will determine how easily the visitor can
assume its existence beyond the elements that are alluded to directly (Wolf, 2012). Writers
often use exposition to explain and extend elements of an imaginary world, however concept
artists and designers often use visual cues to reach the same ends in videogames, either
through specific designs, or environmental storytelling (Carson, 2000; Thorpe, 2013). For
example, dust, rust, and grime might contribute to feelings of a “lived-in” world, while world
gestalten might suggest other activities or elements. It can be argued that an imaginary world
with logical invention, and a high degree of completeness will maintain Secondary Belief,
however these elements must also remain consistent throughout the imaginary world.

17
2.4.4 Consistent Plausibility: Maintaining Secondary Belief

Lastly, consistency refers to how thorough an imaginary world is with regards to its
completeness, and the level to which all of the components of the imaginary world are related.
If an imaginary world is consistent in its design, then the invented elements – both elements
that are alluded to directly, and also the world gestalt – must be presented in accordance to a
logical baseline, and without contradiction (Wolf, 2012). Elements must appear interconnected
and analogous, otherwise an imaginary world will appear poorly constructed to the visitor.
Additionally, invented elements must also be integrated with the Primary World defaults that
remain within the imaginary world. As previously discussed, higher degrees of invention
directly increase the secondariness of an imaginary world. Similarly, in order to remain
consistent, higher degrees of invention result in higher degrees of restriction to creative
freedom as each subsequent element is introduced.

Understanding world structures and systems of relationship allows the world-builder to

maintain consistency in their imaginary world (Wolf, 2012). As explored previously with
regards to topofocal approaches to world-building, the logical placement of invented elements
within the world is important if Secondary Belief is to be maintained (Carter, 1979; Roberts,
2012; Wolf, 2012). These elements, referred to as world structures, are identified by Wolf
(2012) as: nature, culture, language, myth, and philosophy. Although closely related to Wolf’s
elements of invention (ontological change, natural change, cultural change, and nominal
change), these structural elements serve not only as additional elements of invention, but
more importantly set foundations that allow world-builders to maintain consistency.

Nature is the first structure and governs the physical components of an imaginary world,
including the ecosystems that unite them. Ontological change and natural change govern this
structure and may include alterations to the physical nature of the world, along with the
creation of new flora, fauna, and humanoid races. In order to maintain consistency, the
inclusion of invented ecosystems that include flora and fauna from the Primary World can
often lead to contradictions (Carter, 1973). Additionally, a base understanding of evolution and
universal properties of life is beneficial so as to avoid illogical and inconsistent inventions
(Schmidt, 1995). Wolf (2012) notes that nature is often the least invented structure of
imaginary worlds, as many world-builders rely on Primary World defaults or smaller pre-
existing concepts, for example the inclusion of magic or fantastical beasts. Further, world-
builders that invent at such a level as to change the physical foundations of a world, might
require careful consideration of these effects on a planetary scale (Gillet, 1996).

The second structure is culture and relates in this instance to the social behaviours, ideas, and
customs of the imaginary world’s inhabitants. Wolf states that invented cultures should shape,
ground and connect “the natural world’s resources into such things as agriculture,
architecture, clothing, vehicles, and artefacts, which in turn inform customs, traditions,
language, and mythologies” (p.180). Cultural changes should be emphasised, and explanation
is only needed when a cultural artefact has no Primary World analogue through which its
function can be extrapolated by the visitor. Further, visual based media offer the world-builder

18
opportunities to deliver information regarding cultural variations without the need for audial
exposition, instead relying on context to inform the visitor. Lastly, world-builders may also rely
on Primary World cultural defaults upon which they can base their creations. Doing so is not
only common, but also allows world-builders to rely their visitor’s preconceived notions of a
culture to maintain their Secondary Belief. Further, some world-builders will begin the
invention of imaginary cultures by studying cultural anthropology (Schmidt, 1995). A
believable, yet highly invented society is more likely to arise from a strong understanding of
existing human cultures.

Language, the third structure relates to constructed languages and, although related to
nominal change, moves beyond neocognomina. While neocognomina serves primarily as a
tool to offer slight deviations from Primary World defaults, constructed languages or
“conlangs” are developed to such an extent as to be perceived by the visitor as an entire
language (Carter, 1977; Wolf, 2012). Wolf states that conlangs typically fall into one of two
categories: “a posteriori languages that borrow from or are based on elements of existing
natural languages, and a priori languages that are not based on real languages” (p.184).
Although involving the same invention considerations as neocognomina, conlangs can serve as
strict baselines to ensure consistency. For example, a well-developed conlang can serve as the
structural blueprint for all the naming conventions in the imaginary world. Additionally,
conlangs offer the world-builder opportunities to name invented concepts that do not have
Primary World analogues.

The fourth structure, mythology, relates to the invention of myths and legends which provide
additional contexts to the imaginary world. Further, it has been noted that invented
mythologies can provide historical depth, telling us “something about the world views
inherent in a secondary world” (Wolf, 2012 p.192). Additionally, although many world-builders
have been influenced by classical mythology, and the Abrahamic religions, it is often that
world-builders forego monotheism in their imaginary worlds in favour of polytheism (Winter,
2012; Wolf, 2012). Winter (2012), suggests that the lure of polytheism, particularly in pure
fantasy imaginary worlds, may result from the connotations of antiquity such religious systems
conjure. Additionally, Winter notes that typical polytheistic religions can be split into two
groups: kathenotheism, and henotheism. Kathenotheism involves the worship of all of the
polytheistic gods, while henotheism involves devotion to a single polytheistic god within the
pantheon. Further, Winter posits that the latter is favoured within fantasy role playing games
as players are likely to find the individuality that comes from deciding which god to worship
highly appealing. Finally, the mythology present within an imaginary world will often shape the
philosophical outlooks of the worlds inhabitants (Wolf, 2012).

Philosophy, the final structure, relates not only to the world views expressed by the
inhabitants of an imaginary world, but also to an entire concept or outlook that an imaginary
world might suggest (Wolf, 2012). Various concepts and worldviews can be delivered to the
visitor of an imaginary world in a variety of ways. This is more likely to occur however, if the
imaginary world contains “enough completeness and inner consistency so as to gain the
Secondary Belief of the [visitor]” (Wolf, 2012 p.193).

19
The aforementioned structures are interrelated and require the attention and maintenance of
the world-builder (Wolf, 2012). Structures of nature need to be balanced with maps in
topofocal approaches (Wolf, 2012; Roberts, 2012). Natural change dictates natural resources
and therefore influences language as the need to name new resources emerges. Natural
resources also inform the cultural artefacts produced by a society, and how that society
operates. Finally, mythology is usually influenced by nature, which subsequently shapes
philosophy (Wolf, 2012). The consistency of an imaginary world relies on these elements and
their relationships. If a particular relationship between world structures emerges, Secondary
Belief may be lessened in the visitor.

Wolf (2012) asserts that there is a hierarchy of importance with regards to levels of
consistency. If an invented element is alluded to directly, or is referenced regularly, then its
level of consistency to the rest of the imaginary world is crucial. Conversely, if an inconsistent
element is simply a flourish, or a minor element of world gestalt, then the Secondary Belief of
the visitor may not be impacted at all, especially if the element is minor enough to remain
completely unnoticed. Additionally, some inconsistencies may only become noticeable when
many elements are cross referenced, and are reflected upon collectively. Wolf calls these
elements “aggregate inconsistencies” (2012 p.47), and suggests that they are of minor concern
as casual visitors to the imaginary world would not normally notice them. Furthermore, the
visitors that do notice aggregate inconsistencies will often “explain and reconcile them with
their own theories” (p.48).

It is important to note that Wolf’s assertions are directed at imaginary worlds created for
storytelling purposes. This hierarchy may become more extreme in videogames – particularly
fantasy role-playing games – as the visitor is often awarded time to explore and examine the
minor details that might otherwise go unnoticed in other media. It is in this consideration that
concept artists must endeavour to maintain consistency wherever possible, as there is a higher
chance of aggregate inconsistencies to be observed.

While the world gestalten of an imaginary world rely on completeness, it is also the consistency
of the world’s elements that allow them to occur (Wolf, 2012). As stated previously, these
systems are an integral component to maintain in the creation of a consistent and complete
imaginary world. Although heavily theorised by the aforementioned scholars, no complete
system has yet been developed that allows the world-builder to ensure that these systems
remain consistent in their relationships – either in a review of an imaginary world, or during
the worlds creation. Given the complexity of some approaches to world-building as presented
by Gillet (1996), the difficulty of creating such a system cannot be understated.

20
2.5 Conclusion

In summary, the theory of imaginary worlds is a relatively new field of study. The foundations
of this field have grown from the theories of Tolkien, who was informed by Coleridge’s
positions on the imagination. Imaginary worlds are understood to be less geographic and more
experiential, however the experiences of the visitor include a geographic place. Imaginary
worlds require a border separating them form the Primary World, however this border may be
temporal rather than geographical. The degree of secondariness exhibited in an imaginary
world relies solely on its degree of invention – the amount of Primary World defaults that have
been altered. The completeness of an imaginary world is determined by how much of the
world is alluded to, or conversely, how little of the world is realised. Lastly, the level of
consistency within an imaginary world is determined by how logical and plausible all of the
elements within the imaginary world remain when considered in their entirety. With all of this
considered, the more invention and completeness executed by the world-builder, the more
important the consistency becomes if Secondary Belief is to be maintained.

Various scholars and industry professionals have offered strategies and approaches to world-
builders. These strategies and approaches are as varied as their uses, however none of them
appear to cater specifically to visual-centric world-builders, or world-builders whose imaginary
worlds are to be experienced visually in the first instance. While some approaches offer broad
considerations that are intended to be applied to the creation of an imaginary world in its
entirety, no single method of world-building deals with the creation of a world, its inhabitants,
and their societies from the ground up.

In the beginning of this chapter it was stated that the videogames industry has increasingly
built more and more complex worlds as a result of advancements of new technologies. As
stated by some industry professionals, the development of these worlds has begun to be a
primary consideration when creating a new franchise. What remains to be developed
however, is a system of world-building that caters specifically to concept artists and designers
– ensuring that their levels of invention remain unhindered, whilst simultaneously ensuring
that their levels of consistency are maintained with minimal effort. This project seeks to fill this
gap in research through the development of such a system, and subsequently testing its
validity.

21
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