I’m in a bit of a tough spot. I love the vibe Old School Renaissance and the fantastic content coming out of it… but it’s just so much easier getting people to play Fifth Edition. To find a compromise, I tried my hand at a light set of house rules to give 5e that old-school feel.
The results are here! And they’re kind of short, to be honest. Most versions I’ve seen are much, much more complicated. I’ve even seen one clocking in at nearly 200 pages, and at that point, you’re really better off just playing a different game, or even creating one from scratch.
But that’s the point of mine. My goal was to pick house rules that could fit onto a single page, give the best return on investment for creating an OSR feel, with the ability to run those cool OSR modules for players who want to use the latest edition of the game. A lot of thought went into so few words—and in case my thought process might help you tweak your own 5e game to suit your own tastes, I’ve written that, too.
Continue reading “The Crispy Hack: Behind the Scenes of an Old School 5e Hack”
In the first of a twelve part series, I present to you thirty-one magic items for your fantasy role-playing game! Artwork has been graciously provided by the fantastic Ali G, who you can follow on Instagram @quack_at_midnight.
Continue reading “Item a Day, January 2019”
There are no practical limitations in role-playing games. It’s all a matter of imagination, and as such anything is possible. So, of all the worlds you can create and stories you can tell, if it’s to have some fun with your friends, why would you make death a part of it? Even if a GM approaches a game intending to let the dice fall where they may, it’s often hard to actually commit to letting a character just die. It’s not fun—at least in the short term.
But that’s just a single moment at the table! There’s still the entire rest of the game around it, and I thing that the potential for death—or really any major, lasting, negative consequences—can often benefit the game as a whole. Not that every game will need or want it, and that certainly doesn’t mean a game has to be highly lethal, but rare is the game where a little hint of mortal danger doesn’t lift the game as a whole. Continue reading “Accidental Death & Dismemberment: Lethality and Lasting Consequences in RPGs”
Writers have their own methods. There are meticulous writers, like Nabakov, who wrote novels one index card at a time, with a meticulous attention to detail; there are more free-form writers, like Jack Kerouac, who wrote On the Road on one scroll of paper inside of three weeks; and, naturally, there are those in the middle. There’s another axis entirely, though: giving up some level of authorial control, and leaving it all up to pure, dumb luck. It’s a much narrower spectrum, of course: if you leave a story completely up to chance, you’re going to get an incomprehensible mess. But, if you let go just a little bit, you might get something far more satisfying—like The Man in the High Castle.
In an interview with the magazine Vertex in 1974, Philip K. Dick explained his method of using the I Ching, a divination tool that uses random numbers to generate a fortune, in writing his novel:
VERTEX: Do you use the I Ching as a plotting device in your work?
DICK: Once. I used it in The Man in the High Castle because a number of characters used it. In each case when they asked a question, I threw the coins and wrote the hexagram lines they got. That governed the direction of the book. Like in the end when Juliana Frink is deciding whether or not to tell Hawthorne Abensen that he is the target of assassins, the answer indicated that she should. Now if it had said not to tell him, I would have had her not go there. But I would not do that in any other book.
It’s just a small detail—The characters use the I Ching, and instead of picking the results himself to direct the story intentionally, Dick let the dice (or coins, rather) fall where they may, and let that pick his direction. Turns out it works well for games, too. Continue reading “God Plays Dice: Random Tables, Procedural Generation, and Storytelling”
I collect RPGs. There are more books in my collection than I could reasonable expect would be used at the table, but I’ve got them anyway just because I like reading them. Being so familiar with the breadth and depth of games out there, it’s easy to forget that they’re all in the shadow of the mountain that is Dungeons & Dragons. Of course I didn’t forget about D&D entirely, but recently I stood at its base and admired just how damn big it really is.
Taking a look at the ICv2 report reveals, well, nothing surprising. D&D is the top-selling RPG, but we already knew that. Luckily, Roll20, the online tabletop RPG platform, releases reports on what games are being played. Not only is the top game the latest edition of Dungeons & Dragons, it along makes up 54.93% of all games played! Looking at the extended list, 63.08% of games were an official version of D&D, and Pathfinder, based on third edition D&D, accounts for another 13.06%. Taken together, that means over three quarters of all games played on Roll20, 76.14%, are Dungeons & Dragons or a variation thereof, and that’s before including a small number of D&D clones, and a rather larger number of games that are heavily inspired by it.
(Fun fact: this roughly lines up with the number of subscribers to certain communities on reddit. /r/DnD has just over 400,000 subscribers, which is nearly three times as much as /r/rpg.)
To say that D&D is synonymous with RPGs isn’t hyperbole; it’s a fairly decent approximation. As much as I love the vast field of games out there, and hate to think of them as a rounding error, I have to say—I get it. And D&D kind of deserves it. Continue reading “D&Default”
Bringing and keeping a party together in an RPG
I’ve always had trouble killing off player characters in RPGs. I understand the importance of real dangers to the party to keep the stakes high, but it’s difficult to separate a player from a character they spent so much time and effort into creating and playing. So, imagine my horror when I lost not one, but two player characters, in one night, to sheer lack of motivation.
One was an elderly preacher on a quest to see the fabled City of Lost Angels for himself; the other, the son of a wealthy rail baron trapped westward after a chance encounter with a fierce and sinister rival. Between the brutality of Ezekiah Grimme’s theocracy and the screaming fire of Darius Hellstromme’s ghost rock bombs, the two characters could not book tickets back east nearly fast enough.
And you know what? I don’t blame them. The characters would have left, and thhe players were good sports about it; they created new Deadlands characters that very night. Even so, it’s a problem I would do best to avoid. Continue reading “What’s My Motivation?”