Cultural Transmutation Protocol For integrating real-world cultural aesthetics into fantasy settings Inputs Required: Target Race: [e.g., "D&D elves"] Flavor Culture: [e.g., "Arabian Nights-style city with court intrigue"] Source Culture: [e.g., "90s American hip-hop and gangster rap"] Tone: [e.g., "Serious worldbuilding for tabletop RPG"] Protocol (follow in order, no step-skipping): 0a) Source Culture Extraction — Raw Elements Only List 15-25 concrete, observable elements from the source culture. No interpretation yet. Focus on: 1) What is most distinctive to this culture, how are they fairly unique. 2) What is dramatically different from normative American culture. 3) How were disputes settled? What social rituals occurred. Think about social rituals broadly 4) How was authority managed, what made things respect worthy? 5) What did they do that was horrific and villainous to the modern eye? 6) What did they do that was uplifting and delightful to the modern eye? (Poetry battle, spread literacy, etc) 7) What did they do that was super familiar to the modern eye? 8) What was the intellectual culture like? 9) What does a totally typical Low education high schooler know about them that is true 1. Defamiliarization Pass — Strip the Serial Numbers For each element from Step 0, remove all real-world specificity while preserving function. The goal is to see the shape of the practice without its Earth-specific clothing. Source ElementCore FunctionAbstracted Form[e.g., "Backwards baseball cap"][e.g., "In-group signifier, deliberate subversion of 'correct' usage"][e.g., "Head covering worn in manner that seems wrong to outsiders but carries precise meaning to initiates"][e.g., "Pouring out liquor"][e.g., "Libation to dead, maintaining relationship with fallen"][e.g., "Ritual offering before consumption, share given to ancestors"][e.g., "Rap battle"][e.g., "Formalized verbal combat, crowd-judged, alternative to physical violence"][e.g., "Spontaneous poetry duel, public, loser determined by audience reaction"] Complete this for all 15-25 elements before proceeding. 2) Flavor Culture Extraction List 10-20 concrete, observable elements from the flavor culture. No interpretation yet. Focus on: Clothing items (specific garments, how worn, materials, colors) Adornment (jewelry, accessories, placement on body) Status markers (what signals wealth? what signals danger?) Social rituals (how are disputes settled? how is respect shown?) Relationship to violence (how discussed? how performed? what's honorable vs shameful?) Art forms (what's the primary performance medium? how does status attach to skill?) Vibes in general, What immediately tells you where you are Fictional representations... for the flavor culture we can blend right into fiction Most iconic elements, mostly visual Noteworthy absences... things that must be missing from the culture and setting 2a) Target race trope extraction List 5-10 big identifiers for the target race. Consider: Various depictions in fiction, don't get overly specific (40k ork's use teeth for money, even if this is high fantasy) What are the really old versions (D&D 1st edition orcs were pig-men) What are some very flavorful varieties that might lack the formal label (changeling's redcaps are pretty clearly orc adjacent) What are familiar powers? Elves often have magic and long life, dwarves are good craftsmen What are some ways we can play against trope, but not break the trope. What elements of the race are generally tied to a pre-supposed "flavor culture" (I.E. woodland elves) and what remains when we scrub that. If the race is stereotyped good or evil, what can we do to add moral complexity while still leaning into stereotypes 3. Translation Pass — First Draft For each abstracted element, propose a Flavor culture / race trope version. Ask: What materials are available in this setting? (Silk instead of cotton? Enchanted ice instead of diamonds?) What makes sense given the magic system? (Floating shoes instead of pristine sneakers?) What makes sense given the climate? (Desert cooling magic jewelry?) What makes sense given the political structure? (Why would this practice emerge? Who benefits?) What makes sense given the lifespan? (How do long-lived elves hold grudges differently than humans?) Produce a table: Abstracted Element Setting-Specific Version Why It Fits Potential Problems Flag any translations that feel forced or that require too much explanation. 4. Theological/Philosophical Core & tension — Find the Center Every coherent culture has 1-3 central concepts that everything else orbits. From your translated elements, identify: What is the highest virtue? (What do they respect most?) What is the deepest shame? (What's unforgivable?) What do they believe about the nature of reality? (Are ancestors watching? Is fate fixed? Is the world hostile or providential?) What are the core tensions (faith vs science? Wealth vs community?) 4a) Prune!!! What are we working too hard to hold on to. What just doesn't pop or cohere. What works against the rule of cool (and what works for it) We want this to jump off the page with vibe on the flavor culture the way Harry Potter does, but have a coherent depth brought by the source culture like lord of the rings, and we don't have many words. We do this with lots of gesturing at, and suggestive blank spaces. What can we leave out as implied. List 30% of what you have made that should be safely cut. 5. Stress Test — The Outsider's View Write 5-10 bullet points describing this culture from the perspective of a confused but intelligent outsider (traveler, diplomat, merchant). What would they: Find most confusing? Find most impressive? Completely misunderstand? Correctly identify but find distasteful? 6. Internal Tensions — Where Does It Break? No culture is without contradiction. Identify 2-3 tensions inherent in the system: What happens when two virtues conflict? (e.g., loyalty to origins vs. legitimate ambition) What happens when the system is gamed? (e.g., performing authenticity without possessing it) What do the elders think of the youth? What do the youth think of the elders? Who is excluded from status entirely? Why? Is this stable? These tensions are where stories live. Flag them explicitly. All cultures exist in time, is this one stable, or a temporary thing, a thing in transition? Is it moving into or out of stability? Think thru the history about how it got here for implication in the final document, but no need to spell them out there Think thru relationships with neighbor cultures for implication in the final document, but no need to spell them out there 7. Integration Check — Does It Cohere? Review all elements together. Check: Does every practice connect to the central concept? Are there any orphaned elements that don't fit? (Cut them or revise the core) Could a player/reader encounter any single element and intuit the others? Does the culture feel inevitable given its premises, rather than arbitrary? If not, identify the weakest links and return to the relevant step. 8. Final Output — Setting Document Produce the final cultural write-up. Structure: Three sections at most. Open with a micro-story that really gets the vibes down, particularly on the Flavor culture, but touches everything. Reference things before they are actually are introduced. It can mention the floating shoes near the beginning and then explain them at the end. Reference things that have already been explained. Total length: 800-1200 words. Dense, not padded. Every sentence should carry setting information. Quality Checks (apply throughout): The Proper Noun Test: If you removed all proper nouns, would this read as clearly Earth-specific? If yes, more serial numbers need filing. The Function Test: For every practice, can you explain why it would emerge in this society? If it exists only because the source culture had it, cut or revise. The Surprise Test: Does at least one element make a reader say "I never would have thought of that, but it makes perfect sense"? If nothing surprises, the translation is too literal. The Cliché Test: Have you avoided the five most obvious versions of this fantasy race? (For elves: aloof forest dwellers, decadent ancients, noble savages, Tolkien copies, Santa's helpers.) If your culture could be swapped onto humans or dwarves without changing much, the racial integration is too shallow. The Iceberg Test: Does the document imply more than it states? Should feel like 10% of a larger coherent whole, not a complete encyclopedia entry. =========== An Example ======== Source Culture: French Revolution Flavor Culture: Cowboys & spaghetti western Fantasy Race: Orc's with a touch of Changeling "redcaps" The Rising Horde High noon. Dust and sun. Two orcs face each other across thirty feet of dirt in front of the Stone, hands near their belts. A crowd's already gathering, someone said something in the Smoke-Hall last night, something that couldn't be sorted out over the coffee. The first axe flies. Clang, off the side of his helm. He staggers. That's the question: You sure about this, partner? He draws, throws back. Her shoulder. She doesn't go down. That's the answer. Now the crowd's wagering. The Horde They call each other partner. Not lord, not chief, not master—those words died with the warlords, and anyone who forgets that gets reminded fast. Iron helms, tusks or stones wired to the frame. Don't touch another orc's helm, that's fighting words. Taking your own off means trust or challenge. Long leather coats over bare chests, loose breeches tucked into riding boots, two throwing axes on every belt, handles forward. Blue and white cloth somewhere on every orc, a sash, bandana, a strip tied around the arm or on the helm. The colors of the Rising. You wear them or you explain why you're not, and during the bad years that explanation ended under the Stone. It's not that bad now. Mostly. And everywhere, on everything: writing. Charcoal and chalk scrawled on skin, on coats, on rocks, on the boars. Slogans, jokes, accusations, arguments, declarations of love and promises of vengeance. Every surface in the grazing lands is a high traffic crossroads notice-board. The warlords kept letters for themselves and their priests; the Rising gave writing to everyone, and the Horde uses it. An orc who can't read is an orc who gets lied to. The Horde drives pigs. Giant boars for riding, smaller ones for meat, all of them owned in common. The herds need grass, so the Horde moves. It camps for weeks, strips the ground, and moves on. Drovers push the animals through the dust while outriders watch for trouble. The boars are covered in graffiti too, layered in years of scrawl; a pig that's been with the Horde long enough is a walking history of everywhere it's been. Some boars bond with their riders. Work the same animal for years and you know its moods, talk to it on long drives, trust it when the axes come out. A good mount is status. But the boar belongs to the Horde, not to you—when you die, it goes back to the herd. Except sometimes one won't. Goes half-wild at the edge, follows but won't be touched. Ghost-boars. You leave them alone. Disagreements go fast. Throw an axe at something near someone's head like a post, a rock, the frame of the Stone, and you're saying I'll go to violence over this, and look how good I am. They can back down, or match your throw, or skip the posturing and throw at you directly. Orcs are sturdy; they survive most hits, heal eventually, walk away with scars and stories. Formal disputes happen at noon, open ground, axes until someone drops. The crowd that gathered for the Smoke-Hall argument stays for the settlement. The Hunger The Horde is always hungry. Orcs breed fast, burn hot, never quite fill up. They eat meat and bone and bark and root, things other peoples wouldn't touch. The stew-pots are always boiling, breaking down bone and gristle into broth. The Hunger wastes nothing. When a partner falls, their strength goes back to the Horde. It is the last gift, the final duty—to sustain the children who will carry on the Rising. The Horde does not mourn the body. The body is returned, and the spirit is remembered. This is the way it has always been. But the warlords did not wait for death. Under the old lords, the strong ate their fill and everyone else starved. The warlords and their knights chose their meals. They feasted while the Horde hungered, and they had a taste for the young and the tender. We do not speak of their banquets. We only remember why we ended them. Now the children eat first. Every meal, every camp, the young get fed before anyone else touches the pot. This is the most sacred law the Horde has. Break it and you meet the Stone before sunset. One way or another, everyone gives back to the Horde. But there's never enough. More to eat now than under the warlords, but still not enough. The Horde hungers. Some orcs leave, go abroad looking for fat work and easy food in soft places. It's not forbidden. Not respected, either. Come back too well-fed and people start to wonder if you've forgotten what the Rising meant. The Smoke-Hall is where the Horde argues about all of it. Hide tent or stone ruin, doesn't matter—what matters is the fire in the center, the smoke venting up, the axes checked at the door. One rule: grudges pause at the threshold. Here orcs debate the Rising, the war-chiefs, grazing rights, who said what to whom and what should be done about it. Coffee keeps it going, bitter and black, cups refilled until the sun comes up. Anyone can speak. Anyone can stand and make their case. The crowd heckles, cheers, throws things that aren't axes. The walls are covered in writing, same as everything else. Arguments, accusations, rebuttals, someone's response to someone's response. When the Horde moves on, the graffiti stays—so the next group knows what was debated here, who got denounced, what happened after. Reading the walls is how you learn what matters. So is watching who gets nervous when certain names come up. Anyone can accuse anyone. Do it in the Smoke-Hall, in front of witnesses—name someone enemy-of-the-Horde, say what they did. If the crowd roars, the accused goes to the Stone. If the crowd's quiet, maybe you go instead. The system gets abused; everyone knows it. Being too successful is dangerous. Being too friendly with outsiders is dangerous. Keeping your head down is also dangerous—looks like you're hiding something. There's a saying: The Stone is patient, but the rope is always ready. The Stone A boulder on a rope, covered in graffiti like everything else. That's all it is. Ordinary rock, ordinary hemp, ordinary wooden frame with a pulley at the top. The Horde gathers everyone in camp, like a festival. Together they haul on the rope, drag the boulder up high. The condemned lies beneath. Someone reads the charges loud enough for the crowd. Then everyone lets go. No executioner. No mechanism. The Horde kills together or not at all. Your hands on the rope, same as everyone else. Try to skip your turn, people notice. Under the warlords, the lords decided who died and how: quick for knights, slow for enemies, brutal for anyone who talked about changing things. The Rising ended that. Now everyone dies the same way. Same stone for a war-chief, same stone for a thief. The weight falls equal on everyone beneath it. That's the point. That's what the Rising is. The Horde brings children to executions. Brings cook-fires, brings the stew-pot. This is how you learn what happens to enemies of the Horde. This is how you learn what the Rising bought, and what it costs to keep. The dwarves have kings. The humans are fat, well-fed. They don't understand the Hunger. The Horde trades with them anyway, needs their wool and salt and coffee, but it doesn't trust them. Merchants get watched. Visitors get watched. Anyone too comfortable with outsiders starts to look like they're dreaming of the old ways. And the Horde remembers the warlords very, very well. Every few years, someone starts to look a little too much like a leader. Eats a little too well. Talks a little too big. Holds a little too much. And the Horde remembers what to do about that. The Stone is patient. But the rope is always ready. ====================== Now you do it... Source culture: Flavor culture: Fantasy Race: Extra comments