About halfway through my last Society of Dreamers game, we found ourselves derailed: one of our characters (mine, for what it’s worth) was plucked from 19th-century Vienna and stranded in the Land of the Dead, and the rest of the party had to spelunk the world beyond to find her. As a group, we decided that we wanted this hunt to be far greater than just one or two scenes handled within the framework of Society of Dreamers. In fact, this little venture felt far different in tone from the campaign as a whole. So I decided to make a little minigame for the group, using Avery Alder’s Dream Askew as a base.
Stakeholder identification and analysis is a technique you might come across in white-collar work. Its purpose is to help you identify and characterise all the other people who have a stake in your work (in other words, your “stakeholders”), whether they happen to like or hate you, whether they hold power over you, or you hold it over them. It’s the kind of thing you’ll often see in business or government settings where there’s lots of people with vaguely related (but not completely parallel) goals.
Even if you don’t work in the kind of corporate setting, though, this setup – multiple factions all pushing their own agendas and working at vague cross-purposes – may well sound familiar to you from Larp. And while actual stakeholder analysis is an important but boring piece of many peoples’ work lives, that doesn’t stop us from applying it to the trivial (but much more fun) purpose of parlour Larp design.
The purpose of Build a species and its companion Build a culture is to kick-start the creative process when it comes to building interesting and original fantasy people.
Since Tolkein, we’ve been inundated elves, dwarves, hobbits, orcs, goblins, and their analogues. They’re boring, overplayed, and sometimes pretty harmful. Some fantasy worlds have managed to pull themselves out of this rut - I’m thinking China Miéville in Perdido Street Station, or the colourful sixteen-bit inhabitants of Hyper Light Drifter, or even the Star-Wars-esque panoply of characters inside of the comic Saga (which has inspired me in other venues).
Happy new year!
Our new year’s eve party this year featured a party game called Best of the Year, based on Caramel Column Inc.’s game Fictional Masterpieces which they exhibited at Is This a Game? 2019. I made this game based on the GameHungry post above, and it turned out pretty well. This is a record of the rules, and the results.
…the four “traditional” seasons of summer, autumn, winter, and spring are not universal and mainly only apply to the mid-latitudes. Other places on Earth observe different patterns. For starters, the polar year is split into light and dark while the tropics typically have a wet and a dry season.
Plenty of games will tell you what you need to do as a GM, but one thing Vincent and Meguey Baker’s Apocalypse World does really well, is codify those tasks into your agenda and your principles.
Apocalypse World says this about your agenda:
Everything you say, you should do it to accomplish [your agenda], and no other.
Your agenda is a set of a few (in this case, three) things that direct your play. The agenda in Apocalypse World is:
- Make Apocalypse World seem real.
- Make the players’ characters’ lives not boring.
- Play to find out what happens.
Under this, you have a set of principles, whose purpose is to direct play at that mid-level. The book says:
Whenever someone turns and looks to you to say something, always say what the principles demand.
Your principles are a set of broad play techniques and patterns that you can use to make the game run a certain way, in pursuit of the agenda. For example, one of your principles is ask provocative questions and build on the answers. Which will obviously make the world seem real, and also is part of that whole playing-to-find-out thing we’re all interested in these days.
Now this is a pretty cool tool: it means you can tell the GM what they should be doing at a high level (the agenda), and then tie that to mid- to low-level actions they should take to ensure that the game flows in that direction (the principles)1. You can see its influence in a lot of modern story-games - see for example Blades in the Dark and its derivatives, which take a lot of that guidance even as they diverge from move-based play.
The hard drive on my laptop recently ate itself, and while I was able to recover most of my important data through the magic of regular backup, I did lose a few files. Among them: my directory of custom SublimeText plugins. It’d been a good while since I had to make a Sublime Text plugin, so this was a good refresher course.
While I’ve built a few plugins over the course of time, the two main ones I miss were:
It’s coming up to holiday time (and I haven’t updated this thing in ages!). I ended up falling into a second-hand bookstore on Friday, both to pick up a secret Santa present and also to see what else caught my eye. I came across a copy of The Cloudspotter’s Guide, which seemed suitably whimsical for a present (while also being somewhat interesting), and completely separately, a copy of the selected works of Percy Bysshe Shelley.
It wasn’t until later that I realised the two were inextricably linked:
Paul Beakley, over at the Indie Game Reading Club, posted about a little ‘zine game called Goblinville:
Goblinville is a very clever mash-up of several of my favorite games. There’s a very strong thread of Blades in the Dark in defining position (good/normal/bad), you spread your pool of dice and evaluate them on boxed elements of your task a la Psi-Run, your bedraggled antiheroes shuttle back and forth between dungeons and Goblinville a la Torchbearer, grind through light and food and conditions on an oppressive action schedule (Torchbearer again), hexcrawling a la Forbidden Lands (and other OSR games) to get to the dungeon. It’s a best-of anthology of the best RPG tech of the past several years, sitting innocuously atop a trivial-looking OSR-adjacent dungeon delving game.