Beyond the Oracle
Why a clear setting is your best Co-GM in solo TTRPGs
tl;dr: For a more immersive solo game, spend 5 minutes defining your world’s factions and rules. This makes the world’s reactions to you feel coherent and logical, not just like another random dice roll.
We’ve all been there. You’re deep in a solo roleplaying session, your character stands before a stern-faced city guard blocking a gate. The tension is… well, it’s there. You grab your dice, consult your favorite oracle, and ask the all-important question: “Does the guard let me pass?”
The dice clatter. The oracle chart proclaims, “No.”
Okay. But… why?
Is he on the lookout for a fugitive? Does he have a deep-seated prejudice against pointy-eared adventurers? Did he just have a fight with his spouse and is now taking it out on everyone? The oracle is silent. The burden of invention falls squarely back on your shoulders. Do this a dozen times, and you start to feel it: the dreaded Randomness Fatigue. It’s that feeling when your story becomes a string of disconnected events dictated by uncaring polyhedral overlords, and your world feels about as deep as a puddle.
But what if I told you the best tool for fixing this isn’t a more complex oracle, but something you already have? It’s your setting. By making your setting clear, you give it the power to talk back. You transform it from a painted backdrop into your most valuable co-GM.
The Setting as a Logic Engine, Not Just a Backdrop
In a traditional TTRPG, the Game Master is the logic engine. They know why the guard is grumpy. In solo play, we often try to outsource that job entirely to our oracles. But an oracle only answers the question you ask; it doesn’t provide the context.
This is where a clear setting changes the game. It allows you to shift from asking, “What happens?” to the far more powerful question, “Given the facts, what would happen?”
Without a Clear Setting: “Does the guard stop me?” (A 50/50 coin flip)
With a Clear Setting: “My character is a tiefling mage trying to enter a city ruled by a paranoid, magic-hating theocracy. How does the guard react?”
See the difference? The answer is no longer random. It’s a logical consequence. He would be suspicious, maybe call for a superior, or demand to inspect your spell components. Suddenly, the world isn’t just throwing random encounters at you; it’s reacting to who you are and where you are. It feels alive.
The Three Pillars of Clarity (Don’t Worry, You Can Skip the 500-Page Bible)
When I say “clear setting,” please put down that 500-page world-building document you were about to write. “Clear” doesn’t mean “exhaustive.” You just need a few solid tentpoles to hold up the story. Focus on what creates reaction and conflict.
Pillar 1: Factions & Their Goals. Who has the power here, and what do they want? The greedy Merchant’s Guild wants profit. The zealous Silver Flame cult wants purity. The beleaguered City Watch just wants to stop a turf war from breaking out. The friction between these groups is the engine of your world.
Pillar 2: People & Their Motivations. You don’t need a whole phonebook of NPCs. Just define two or three key players. The grumpy sheriff who wants a quiet retirement. The ambitious guildmaster who wants to crush her rival. The librarian who is desperately protecting a dangerous secret. Now, your character’s actions will bounce off these concrete personalities, not a faceless void.
Pillar 3: Core Truths & The “Vibe.” What are one-to-three undeniable, game-changing facts about this place?
“Magic is feared and heavily regulated.”
“A terrible plague swept through five years ago; everyone is paranoid about outsiders.”
“This city is built on ancient, unstable ruins that sometimes collapse.”
These truths are the laws of physics for your story, informing everything from social encounters to the very ground beneath your feet.
In Practice: A Before & After
Let’s see this in action. Your character, a healer, needs a rare Sunpetal herb found only in the Whisperwood.
BEFORE (Vague Setting):
Player: “I enter the Whisperwood. Is it dangerous?”
Oracle: “Yes.”
Player: “What kind of danger?”
Oracle: “Hostile Beast.”
Outcome: A generic fight with a random wolf. Meh.
AFTER (Clear Setting):
Setting Truths Added: The Whisperwood is sacred to a clan of isolationist wood elves. A notoriously territorial beast called a “Gloomfang” is known to stalk the western paths.
Player: “Okay, I enter the Whisperwood, carefully sticking to the eastern paths to avoid Gloomfang territory. How do the elven patrols react to me trampling through their sacred home?”
Logical Outcome: They don’t just attack. They emerge from the trees, arrows notched, demanding to know your purpose. This has instantly become a tense social encounter driven by the world’s logic. You have to justify your presence, maybe bargain or persuade them. It’s infinitely more interesting!
How to Get Started Without Getting Overwhelmed
“This sounds great,” you say, “but I play solo to avoid homework!” I hear you. Here’s how to do it with minimal effort.
Start Small: Define one city, or even just one neighborhood. Build a sandbox, not the whole beach. You can discover the rest of the world as you go.
Borrow, Don’t Build: This is the greatest creative shortcut of all time. Use an established setting! Grab a map of Eberron, the Forgotten Realms, or your favorite fantasy world. The factions and core truths are already there for you. Just pick what’s relevant and go!
The “Two Factions and a Secret” Method: Need a world in 60 seconds? Define two opposing groups (Miners vs. Druids) and one secret about the location (The mine is about to break into an ancient tomb). Boom. Instant conflict.
Let the Oracle Help: Use your oracle before the game starts to establish these truths. “Oracle, is the local government corrupt?” If the answer is yes, write that down. That’s no longer a random event; it’s a fact of your world.
Your World is Waiting to React
By investing just a little bit of thought into your setting’s factions, people, and truths, you completely transform your solo game. You elevate it from a series of random prompts into an emergent narrative where the world has a voice, an opinion, and a personality.
For your next solo session, try this: before you do anything else, define just one core truth about your starting location. Write it down. See how it changes the questions you ask and how your world answers back.
You’ll quickly find that your best co-GM was the world itself, all along.
Great post! I think people, especially designers, lean too much on mechanics, when the answer tends to be I the setting and characters
Great article. Definitely going to try these tips next I play solo.