Town
Towns are centres of population that arise naturally from settlements and villages, expanding outward as necessity dictates. At first, these clusters form as a defensive measure, a reaction to the dangers that threaten isolated homesteads — the raiders, wild beasts and lawlessness that lurk beyond civilisation. As numbers grow and the people harden their resolve, they erect fortifications, marking the town's first true transformation. Wooden palisades, watchtowers and, eventually, stone walls convert a fragile habitation into a place of permanent security, where those within may sleep soundly, knowing the chaos outside is held at bay.
Once security is assured, economic ambition takes hold. Trade expands, merchants arrive and wealth begins to accumulate. The marketplace grows busier, drawing farmers from the countryside and attracting the attention of caravans and ships that introduce foreign goods. Unlike in a village, where life follows the rhythm of the seasons, a town sets its own pace. No longer ruled by the land, its people shape raw materials into products — craftsmen work stone and metal hauled from distant quarries and mines, weavers spin cloth imported from afar and shopkeepers establish themselves in the town square, where the first traces of a regulated economy take root.
Townspeople live a life apart from the soil, their shelter no longer seasonal, their lives no longer dependent on the fickle turn of the sun and rain. Faith and governance stand as pillars of continuity, while coin displaces barter in the daily rhythm of exchange. The ebb and flow of strangers, the ceaseless hubbub of the market and the relentless pursuit of comfort, art and knowledge set the town apart from the village, where each day is a repetition of the last. In the town, change is expected. News travels quickly, carrying rumours of war, politics and distant lands. The roads that stretch outward are no longer mere paths between farmsteads but arteries of trade, weaving the town into a growing web that connects it to the great cities and the rural lands that still cling to the past.
Yet a town remains distinct from a city. Its ambitions are practical, not visionary. It thrives on commerce, but it does not seek empire. Its market is its heartbeat, its granaries and warehouses its organs, but the intellectual and cultural pursuits of true urban centers remain beyond its reach. A town is a place of business, storage and transit, concerned with securing trade, taxation and survival rather than legacy, refinement or grandeur. Unlike the city, which builds for eternity, the town builds for the moment — always seeking advantage, always looking outward, never pausing long enough to become something greater than itself.
The Growth of Towns
As towns continued to grow, they became more than just centers of trade — they emerged as independent entities, challenging both feudal lords and monastic power. The Norse invasions of the 9th and 10th centuries had already reshaped this dynamic, as monasteries, once the primary centers of refuge, literacy and commerce, proved vulnerable to Viking raiders. Monastic wealth and treasure attracted plunderers and with each sacked abbey, it became clear that relying solely on religious institutions for protection was no longer viable. In response, villagers and landowners alike turned to the fortified market town, which combined the defensive advantages of stone walls and militias with the economic resilience of trade-based economies.
In many cases, these towns sought to govern themselves, leading to the rise of chartered towns and boroughs, where local leaders — often wealthy merchants and guildsmen — negotiated privileges and freedoms from noble overlords. These town charters, granted by kings or feudal lords in exchange for taxation and military levies, formalised town rights, including the ability to hold markets, collect tolls and administer their own laws.
With the power of trade behind them, towns developed into fortified centers of commerce, their walls enclosing not just homes and workshops but a growing network of guild halls, warehouses and granaries. The establishment of guilds was a major step in the consolidation of town life. Craft guilds regulated professions such as blacksmithing, weaving and masonry, ensuring quality and price stability while keeping outsiders from competing with local artisans. Merchant guilds wielded even greater influence, controlling the flow of goods, negotiating trade privileges and even financing town defenses. These guilds became the economic backbone of towns, securing wealth and stability while reinforcing the distinct identity of town dwellers, who increasingly saw themselves as separate from both rural serfs and the feudal aristocracy.
By the 15th century, many towns had grown into regional powers, forming leagues and alliances to protect their commercial interests. The Hanseatic League in northern Europe, a confederation of merchant towns, dominated trade across the Baltic and North Seas, while the Flemish cities became textile powerhouses, competing with Italian trading centers like Venice and Genoa. Some towns developed into full-fledged city-states, maintaining armies, navies and independent foreign policies, while others remained dependent on larger feudal realms, offering their lords tax revenue and military levies in exchange for autonomy.
Despite their prosperity, towns remained vulnerable to warfare, plague and economic shifts. Their reliance on trade meant that a disruption — such as the Black Death, the Hundred Years' War or the expansion of oceanic trade routes — could cause rapid decline. Towns also faced the constant challenge of expansion, as growing populations strained food supplies, sanitation and housing, often leading to conflicts with surrounding rural lords, who resented their encroachment on once-feudal lands.
By the dawn of the 17th century, the town had fully established itself as a critical link between rural villages and great cities. It was no longer merely a fortified market but a center of governance, crafting and social change, where artisans, merchants and scholars thrived under a new economic and political order that would, in time, reshape the world.
Conducting the Town Game
Approaching the town, the players encounter the first signs of commerce and industry well before reaching its walls. Outside, imported goods are stacked in open-air depots, waiting for purchase or processing. Wooden pens hold livestock, while carts and wagons, unhitched and unloaded, stand in neat rows, their drivers either bargaining or awaiting inspection. The goods here are largely durable — lumber, stone, thatch, gravel, ore, manure — materials that withstand exposure to the elements without need for shelter.
On either side of the bustling road, a roadhouse sprawls, each a broad, low tavern and inn, well-worn by travelers who linger before venturing into town. These establishments cater to those without the coin or cause to lodge within the walls, offering food, drink and news of the surrounding region to those passing through.
At the town gate, entry is welcoming but guarded, with a nominal fee of one or two copper pieces — low enough to encourage peasants and peddlers to bring their raw materials inside. Despite this, the number of daily entrants is relatively small, perhaps fifty or sixty in a day. The town is large enough to support commerce but not so vast that unwanted elements can move unseen. At night, those without shelter or purpose are swiftly dealt with; the brute squads of the town watch patrol the streets, driving out or beating those deemed a nuisance, ensuring lawlessness does not take hold within the walls.
Inside, accommodations are limited. There may be only one inn, catering exclusively to merchants and dignitaries, its prices far higher than those of the roadhouses outside. Lodging within the town is not meant for casual travelers but for those with serious business and wealth. Crime is rare — not for lack of vice or conflict, but because money flows steadily into the hands of those who govern. The town is constantly expanding, with burnt-out buildings swiftly cleared and new construction rising in their place. What violence exists is political rather than random — grudges among rival factions, not lawless chaos. Vice is regulated, taxed and confined to specific lanes and quarters, ensuring it serves the town's economy rather than disrupting it.
The people of the town are friendly and accommodating — especially when coin is involved. A stranger with money and purpose will find welcoming hands and eager vendors. But as twilight falls, they will be warned — those who lack business here should leave before dark. The town is safe for those who belong — for those who can pay — but for drifters, outsiders and the unwelcome, nightfall is best met outside the walls. Those with wealth will find an easy place in the town's structure, but those without means will be quickly discarded.
Adventuring in Towns
These campaign events do not follow the familiar tropes of rescuing farmers or chasing down raiding parties in the countryside. The town's inhabitants do not concern themselves with bandits, for they do not transport goods themselves. Caravans and merchant fleets belong to middlemen, haulers and foreign agents — those willing to take the risks, bribe the guards and suffer the losses. The townspeople exist above such dangers, buying and selling, watching the shifting tide of commerce without investing in the perils that surround it. Infestations of monsters in the hills, raiders harassing distant villages, the struggles of peasants and travelers — these things exist outside the walls and so they are not the town's concern.
What is their concern is the steady flow of raw goods and they will pay handsomely for anything brought to them. If a caravan arrives intact, if a ship unloads its cargo at the docks, the merchants will readily buy it up — and whatever they cannot use, they will sell elsewhere for a profit. Where the goods came from or what dangers were braved to obtain them, is of no consequence. If precious metals, rare spices, gemstones, exotic silks, incense or luxury goods are secured, the traders will compete to outbid one another. In many cases, they will directly commission adventurers to acquire such items, even providing maps, detailed routes and intelligence on unmined gold, abandoned vaults or hidden caches of lost treasure — stretching across continents and oceans.
If the party secures a trade route to deliver these goods reliably, all the better — but that is their problem, not the merchants'. Smuggling across borders, bribing officials to avoid tariffs, eliminating a rival faction to secure a shipment — none of this concerns the buyer. The risk belongs to the adventurers, while the profit belongs to those with the wealth to resell it.
Yet trade is not the only path to fortune — wealth can be stolen and the merchants are not above paying for theft when it suits their needs. A powerful merchant may hire a party to sabotage a competitor, disrupt trade routes or ransack a rival's warehouse. They may finance raids on caravans, place bounties on ships or manipulate tariffs and bribes to choke out competition. With the right introduction and a demonstration of loyalty and skill, an adventuring party may rise in favour, securing ships, soldiers and resources for something far greater — an outright private war against an enemy trading faction.
This is how cities are plundered. This is how fortunes are made overnight. This is how Constantinople fell. A merchant prince will not hesitate to outfit an expedition if the profit justifies the risk. The party could find themselves at the head of a fleet, an army, a ruthless syndicate, backed by the wealth of those who care nothing for morality — only outcomes. They will not ask how many throats need cutting — as long as those throats belong to outsiders.
Demographics
Villages: Any settlement with fewer than 1,000 inhabitants is classified as a village, regardless of whether it has a market or lies along a trade route. Settlements with fewer than 2,500 inhabitants that lack access to a trade route should also be treated as villages, as their economies are centered on agriculture, fishing or raw resource gathering rather than commerce. Similarly, settlements with fewer than 7,000 inhabitants that are located more than 5 hexes from the nearest trade route or border are best categorised as sprawling villages, as their isolation prevents them from developing the hallmarks of a true town.
Towns: Settlements with 1,000 to 2,500 inhabitants that either have a market or are situated along a trade route are considered towns. Larger settlements with 2,501 to 7,000 inhabitants that lack a market or direct trade access but are located within 5 hexes of a trade route or border also fall into this classification, as their proximity allows them to participate in broader economic systems without hosting major trade themselves. Even larger settlements with 7,001 to 12,000 inhabitants that are neither market hubs nor on a trade route are still considered towns, as their economic activity remains regional rather than far-reaching.
Cities: Settlements with more than 5,000 inhabitants that either function as a market hub or are situated on a trade route qualify as cities due to their economic influence. Any settlement with a population exceeding 12,000, regardless of its trade status or location, is always classified as a city, as its sheer size necessitates a level of self-sufficiency, governance and economic complexity beyond that of a town.
See The Adventure
