Exploration is the incentive

The journey is the goal

I was in the Lake District recently and whilst walking around Ravenglass, I saw this:

A long-abandoned boat, partly claimed by the estuary, covered in seaweed, and splitting apart.

Looking at it, I felt a desire to peer inside, for no other reason than being curious. It was something forgotten. Something left behind. It had history, though I would likely never know what its past actually was. It was weird. Why had it been left here?

There was no treasure within (certainly nothing of capital value). I also wasn’t going to ‘unlock’ an ability or level by undertaking exploring it.

Now, I didn’t go climb in because:

• I wasn’t dressed for it (I lacked the equipment).

• I haven’t explored boat wrecks before (I lacked the training). I’m more familiar with open water and mountains.

• I didn’t have the time.

But if I had those things (and my partner, who is equally explore-y, came along as a teammate), we would have probably climbed in and taken a look.

This is an old-school rpg blog right? What the fudge am I on about?

The drive I’m describing is the drive to explore: not for money, not for level ups, not for objective gains. To explore for its own sake. To discover.

And my feeling is that some of the best old-school play is driven by this mindset. It’s not about levelling up. It’s not about unlocking new abilities. It’s not about trying to shape the world as part of a power fantasy.

In games where it’s all about going to new places, the best version of those games are driven by a pure want to explore.

Exploration is the incentive. To witness a fictional world, to discover it, and to overcome challenges to allow you to see more of it. To become part of it.

That makes for the best old-school games.