#Ttrpg Design

[anim-ttrpgs]

Exerpt from Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy.

[ostrichmonkey-games]

Steaming ahead on Stampede, and nearly done with the included factions. So, which of these factions' NPCs do you want to force me to come up with actual names for first:

[tinytablepodcast]

Eureka x Tiny Table Investigators

Art of our investigators from Eureka! They're Scooby Doo meets the X Files and are DEFINITELY not facing the horrors...oh no is this a common theme in our campaigns?

[takataapui]

Lift With Your Knees

A solo-journaling rpg for one player.

You hold the immense weight of the world on your shoulders. This is not a game where that changes.

You have 2 stats, Lift and Weight. Lift governs emotional elements, like your motivation and your support factors. Weight governs physical elements, like your fatigue, your strength, and your pain. Lift and Weight start balanced, both at 4.

Use a random word generator 5 times. Use each word as inspiration for a scenario that is affecting you as you carry the world. To start each scenario roll 2d6. Use this to inform how the scenario goes.

On a 6 or less: -1 from Lift and Weight. On a 7-9: -1 to either Lift or Weight. On a 10-11: +1 to either Lift or Weight. On a 12: +1 to both Lift and Weight.

At the end of the game, write an epilogue. Use these outcomes as inspiration:

Lift is 0: Lose something of yourself. Lift is between 1-4: A friend disappears. Lift is 5+: A wave of hope.

Weight is 0: Something breaks. Weight is between 1-4: Ache increases. Weight if 5+: Second wind.

Regardless of the outcome, you endure.

Inspired by the poem ‘Lift with your knees’, by @poemsforpersephone:

atlas, your shoulders are broken and all the strength in the world will not heal them, do not weep if you falter, lift with your knees, brace your arms; know that you were made to endure.

Total wordcount: 199

I am happy for this to be archived off-site.

200 Word RPGs 2024

Each November, some people try to write a novel. Others would prefer to do as little writing as possible. For those who wish to challenge their ability to not write, we offer this alternative: producing a complete, playable roleplaying game in two hundred words or fewer.

This is the submission thread for the 2024 event, running from November 1st, 2024 through November 30th, 2024. Submission guidelines can be found in this blog's pinned post, here.

[quinnydoll]

being a GM is really fun because sometimes you can make your players go through some really traumatic Evangelion bullshit, but other times you can force them to go bowling for no reason

[alphaori]

Being into indie ttrpgs on Tumblr is a very funny experience because while you're ambiently considering designing a little game about idk, gremlins growing cabbages or whatever there are people who built this hobby from the ground up with 15 award winning published games and three podcasts and a knighthood from a small European monarchy just doing their thing on the same platform. Imagine this was the case for any other hobby. You go to shoot some hoops behind your house and LeBron James is just there

[drakeanddice]

Haunted by a fantasy world where "adventurer" is handled in the same way as "assassin" in John Wick. An ifykyk secondary economy running on gold coins where everyone knows each other but no one acknowledges the elephant in the room because we have manners about our weird-ass line of deadly desperate dangerous work.

Rolling into town, looking immaculate. Checking into the Inn. Not an inn, or the coaching house, or the traveler's hostel. The Inn. The one that takes my ridiculous oversized coin and says that my room is ready, and will I need to visit the Smith today? Perhaps a meeting with the Vintner? Shall I send up the Gourmand?

"Good afternoon, Master Whicke," the Smith says, putting aside the barrel scraper he's been working on to flip a switch beside the forge. Racks of tenpenny nails and trowels and hammers fold back to reveal the glittering points and edges of a score of swords and axes and spearpoints lit with the flicker of finely-tuned enchantments. "Shall we tour what's new?"

"What sort of occasion are we hosting, Master Whicke?" The Vintner asks, pocketing the coin with a sigh. "A funeral," you say.

"Ah, well perhaps something light to start, then," she says selecting a straight-walled flask that glitters with contained starlight, proof against the touch of the undead. " And something for remembrance," she plucks a small crock of something evil-smelling and phosphorescent. "And then something to really bring down the house." She gingerly selects a double ampoule of energetic looking jellies.

The Gourmand carefully runs his knife through the salted flank of a cockatrice with a pursing of the lips. "So many neglect trail rations, Master Whicke, and it is their shame. Paired with goldenwheat pancakes and carrion honey, a mouthful of cockatrice--properly seasoned of course--will keep the mummy rot at bay, even post-exposure. I have been given to indicate by the Management that your current escapade may make such information useful to you. I will of course wrap your purchases exceedingly carefully. Rot will be your constant companion in the Black Pyramid."

There's something here.

[sprintingowl]

Deadball

Deadball Second Edition is a platinum bestseller on DrivethruRPG. This means it's in the top 2% of all products on the site. Its back cover has an endorsement from Sports Illustrated Kids.

It's also not an rpg I'd heard about until I discovered all of these facts one after another.

I was raised in a profoundly anti-sports household. My father would say stuff like "sports is for people who can't think" and "there's no point in exercising, everything in your body goes away eventually." So I didn't learn really any of the rules of the more popular American sports until I was in my mid twenties, and I've been to two ballgames in my life. I appreciate the enthusiasm that people have for sports, but it's in the same way that I appreciate anyone talking about their specific fandom.

One of the things that struck me reading Deadball was its sense of reverence for the sport. Its language isn't flowery. It's plain and technical and smart. But its love for baseball radiates off of the pages. Not like a blind adoration. But like when a dog sits with you on the porch.

For folks familiar with indie rpgs, there's a tone throughout the book that feels OSR. Deadball doesn't claim to be a precise simulation or a baseball wargame or anything like that---instead it lays out a bunch of rules and then encourages you to treat them like a recipe, adjusting to your taste. And it does this *while* being a detailed simulation that skirts the line of wargaming, which is an extremely OSR thing to do.

For folks not familiar with baseball, Deadball starts off assuming you know nothing and it explains the core rules of the sport before trying to pin dice and mechanics onto anything. It also explains baseball notation (which I was not able to decipher) and it uses this notation to track a play-by-play report of each game. Following this is an example of play and---in a move I think more rpgs should steal from---it has you play out a few rounds of this example of play. Again, this is all before it's really had a section explaining its rules.

In terms of characters and stats, Deadball is a detailed game. You can play modern or early 1900s baseball, and players can be of any gender on the same team, so there's a sort of alt history flavor to the whole experience, but there's also an intricate dice roll for every at bat and a full list of complex baseball feats that any character can have alongside their normal baseball stats. Plus there's a full table for oddities (things not normally covered by the rules of baseball, such as a raccoon straying onto the field and attacking a pitcher,) and a whole fatigue system for pitchers that contributes a strong sense of momentum to the game.

Deadball is also as much about franchises as it is about individual games, and you can also scout players, trade players, track injuries, track aging, appoint managers of different temperaments, rest pitchers in between games, etc.

For fans of specific athletes, Deadball includes rules for creating players, for playing in different eras, for adapting historical greats into one massively achronological superteam, and for playing through two different campaigns---one in a 2020s that wasn't and one in the 1910s.

There's also thankfully a simplified single roll you can use to abstract an entire game, allowing you to speed through seasons and potentially take a franchise far into the future. Finances and concession sales and things like that aren't tracked, but Deadball has already had a few expansions and a second edition, so this might be its next frontier.

Overall, my takeaway from Deadball is that it's a heck of a game. It's a remarkably detailed single or multiplayer simulation that I think might work really well for play-by-post (you could get a few friends to form a league and have a whole discord about it,) and it could certainly be used to generate some Blaseball if you start tweaking the rules as you play and never stop.

It's also an interesting read from a purely rpg design perspective. Deadball recognizes that its rules have the potential to be a little overbearing and so it puts in lots of little checks against that. It also keeps its more complex systems from sprawling out of control by trying to pack as much information as possible into a single dice roll.

For someone like me who has zero background in baseball, I don't think I'd properly play Deadball unless I had a bunch of friends who were into it and I could ride along with that enthusiasm. However as a designer I like the book a lot, and I'm putting it on my shelf of rpgs that have been formative for me, alongside Into The Odd, Monsterhearts, Mausritter, and Transit.

[sandypuggames]

THE ROLEPLAYERS GUIDE TO HEISTS

Made this with the Far Horizons Co-Op a million years ago and its still one of the greatest pieces of work I've done in the TTRPG scene. From project management to print, this was a five gold star winner.

The concept; 35 system agnostic heist writeups set across every genre and setting you can imagine. Each of them fully illustrated, with detailed, labeled maps. Each write up gives you a world of plot hooks, introduces you to important NPCs, points out interesting locations.

This was inspired by my adoration of those history books we all read as a kid, with the huge dioramas. Those things were TTRPG manuals before we knew they existed, right? Poring over them, drinking in every detail, imagining what it would be like to be this person or that. That and Hitman. There's *SO MUCH* Hitman in this book. I loved working on this book. Cracked it open for old times sake earlier today, maybe you'd like to join me.

[legendaryvermin]

So my home ttrpg group is between longform games right now, and I have been planning to bring a bunch of games to them this weekend as options for what we might play next. However, I have been trying to figure out how to talk about the games in a way that doesn't rely as much on me explaining the vibes to them.

I know that people have a bunch of qualitative categories for how they explain games, but I find the idea of saying things like Dark Fantasy OSR, or Lesbian Goofball PBTA less helpful when talking about how games actually play, especially when two games in the same category are like, wildly different in the way they use their frameworks.

So I invented a 6 axis, 1 to 5 star rating scale for TTRPGs that you are free to borrow when talking to groups, or whatever.

TTRPG 5 Star Rating Matrix

Width

What is the scope of this game? Is it narrowly about one thing or does it encompass many types of play? (Credit to friend of the blog @ostermad-blog for this one, they came up with it from my draft)

Weight

How much cognitive load does the player need to bear? Do rules often need to be referenced verbatim? Can those rules fit on a handout?

Wargame

Is the player expected to apply tactical acumen? Is movement tracked tightly or loosely? Does a bad build punish a player?

Writers Room

How much are players expected to make narrative choices and drive the story without the rules scaffolding them? Does this game fall apart without excellent improvisational storytellers?

(Prep)Work

Does this game require a lot of pre-planning by the facilitator? Are there intricate systems to attend to outside of table play? Can I put in the same amount of time as other players and still have everyone leave happy? 

Whimsy

Expected tone of the game. Does this game have difficult thematic elements baked in? Is the core subject or role in the game high or low risk?

Here are some games I know well and how I calibrated them:

I have breakdowns of what each star rating means below the cut if you're curious. Happy Gaming!

Width

⭐ - As written, the game has basically one mode of play, or one thematic core that it meditates on. May have phases, but textural difference is minimal.

⭐⭐ - As written, there are at least two modes of play, but the scope of that play is highly thematically focused or highly dependent on using the game’s own lore. Might have only one kind of character (e.g. Mech Pilot) that it supports. Has limited tools outside of the primary mode of play.

⭐⭐⭐ - Has a variety of modes of play, but may be rigid in their execution. Might encompass multiple kinds of characters (e.g. Doctor, Lawyer, fighter) or character options. The narratives that this game tells within its setting are narrowed, a three word description tells you what kind of stories it can tell with consistency.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Loose framework, but with some kind of thematic grounding. Describing the framework in 3 words doesn’t tell you the kind of stories that the game tells (e.g. Dark Fantasy, Star Wars Romp). 

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- As written, this game is designed in such a way that it doesn’t put specific limits on what sorts of stories that it is meant to tell. It might ask players to define abilities or stats for themselves. The Facilitator is going to pitch a thematic grounding on top of the rules set.

One Star Examples: For the Queen, Dialect, Honey Heist Five Star Examples: Fate Core, Savage Worlds, GURPS

Weight

⭐ - It is reasonable for a player to be able to recite the rules from memory. The game may be prompt based, or driven by a flow of rules that are read aloud as played.

⭐⭐ - Players can hold most of the most important information about the game in their heads, with a page or less of rules reference needed to play smoothly. This reference could all fit neatly on the character sheet if one is present.

⭐⭐⭐ - Everything a player needs to know about the game is visible on less than 3 sheets of reference. Players are more or less expected to know exactly how their own abilities work in precise detail, and are unlikely to make a mistake in executing them.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Players make extensive use of multiple reference sheets to keep rules moving smoothly. No external tools are needed, but players memorizing the details of all of their abilities is taxing. 

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- Players and facilitators will prefer to make extensive use of external tools or reference to keep play moving smoothly. Expecting a player to have the exact details of their abilities memorized is not reasonable.

One Star Examples: For the Queen, Stewpot, Mobile Frame Zero: Firebrands Five Star Examples: Dungeons and Dragons 3-5e, Lancer, Edge of the Empire

Wargame

⭐ - As written, this game does not treat combat as mechanically different from any other aspect of play, or does not include narrative violence at all.

⭐⭐ - While players may engage in combat, it is minimally different from regular play. There may be tools or abilities for players to use to conduct a fight, but the texture of those fights is thematic, not mechanical. Narrative and consequence drive the action, not hit points.

⭐⭐⭐ - As written, combat has its own set of rules. This game may have some elements of buildcrafting, but either it is difficult to build something that doesn’t work, or the player may meaningfully invest in other modes of play and still find a commensurate level of satisfaction. If combat occurs, spacing is kept in mind, but is tracked in relative terms (range bands) or highly simplified (zone based combat).

⭐⭐⭐⭐ - This game has buildcrafting that is somewhat mandatory if players wish to survive a fight, but there is still a meaningful choice in choosing a non-combat role. It may use a grid or a spacing system to help players visualize the combat. Fights are driven by mechanics, not by narrative.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- To enjoy this game, players must spend time buildcrafting. If a player’s build is suboptimal, there may be significant parts of the intended experience that will either feel tedious, or that the player will not have meaningful access to. This game is played on a grid.

One Star Examples: Wanderhome, Dialect, Belonging Outside Belonging Five Star Examples: Lancer, Dungeons and Dragons 3-5e, Valor

Writers Room

⭐ - Players in this game are not expected to provide much in the way of narrative substance. Story is something that is driven by external input or tools, and players are there to imagine and react. The player need not separate the self from the character they play in any meaningful way.

⭐⭐ - The mechanics of this game drive most of the narrative, or else the narrative is set for the players by an external source or player. Players are encouraged to play optimally rather than dramatically, but do have room for expressing the identity of their character within the game’s mechanical frameworks.

⭐⭐⭐ - While the game does provide strong scaffolding to tell a story, the players present are expected to drive the story within those frameworks. The game’s systems create and resolve conflict on their own, but works best when the players are willing to choose the dramatically interesting option even if it mechanically non-optimal.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ - The game provides some mechanical tools that create and resolve drama, but there is a significant expectation that the players are buying into and driving the game’s thematic concepts. Players are the ones deciding what the scenes should be and when to end them, but mechanics still help determine outcomes.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- The players are expected to drive the narrative at all times. Tools for deciding what scenes to do and when to end them are limited, optional, or vague. There is no meaningful scaffolding that creates conflict or resolution, it is incumbent on those present to manifest those things.

One Star Examples: Alice is Missing, Ribbon Drive, For the Queen Five Star Examples: Wanderhome, Systemless RP

(Prep)Work

⭐ - Facilitators are not expected to do work outside the time at the table. All rules can be read while the game is played. No memorization is needed.

⭐⭐ - This game expects the facilitator to have read the rules in advance, but the rules are so few that they can be run from a single reference sheet. At times, the facilitator must think about and potentially advance and adjust the narrative of the game behind the scenes. Prep is qualitative; answering questions about where the narrative is going to go, who will be there etc. The game can be run smoothly predominantly as improv.

⭐⭐⭐ - This game expects the facilitator to not only know the rules, but to imagine scenarios where the group must play. However, the scope of the scenario design is limited and qualitative. It takes a bit of pondering and perhaps a sketch and a few words of notes. Alternatively, the facilitator must design simple foes or track a simple background system. The work is trivial, and can be done with a bit of time before session.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ - The facilitator of this game is expected to have run systems between games, or created usable maps or scenarios. Generally, games at this level have some reduced wargaming component. The facilitator might need to engage in enemy design, but the work is limited or imminently reusable. The work is non-trivial, and failing to do it will somewhat impact the quality of play.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- The facilitator of this game puts in significant time between sessions engaging in game design activities. They are expected to plan narratives, write NPCs, draw maps, run significant background systems, and design enemies and combat encounters. The work is significant outside of play, and failing to do it beforehand will result in a worse table experience.

One Star Examples: For the Queen, Alley-Oop, Lasers and Feelings Five Star Examples: Lancer, D&D 3-5e, Stars Without Number, Edge of the Empire

Whimsy

⭐ - This game’s thematic core is considered dark, taboo, or difficult, and separating the game’s mechanical features from this subject matter is next to impossible. Games with horror elements almost certainly fit within this category. These games encourage extensive pre-play safety talks.

⭐⭐ - This game is designed to look at dark subject matter, but doesn’t expect the player to spend all of their time there. Players explore difficult topics, but may get to choose what topics to explore, or when to explore them. Games with political messaging/commentary tend to fit this category. These games encourage pre-play safety talks.

⭐⭐⭐ - This game may have dark aesthetics, but doesn’t enforce them mechanically. Alternatively, there are mechanics that address difficult topics in broad strokes, but players are given leeway in the rules with how any difficult topics are approached. These games may encourage safety talks. 

⭐⭐⭐⭐ - This game may have the option to explore dark topics, but none of the mechanics are tied to such topics. This game may have violence in its aesthetics, but players may choose to adjust the aesthetics at the table to suit their comfort. These games tend not to talk about safety in their text.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- This game is designed to focus on thematic material that is considered to be relatively safe. The game is unlikely to tread into violence or trauma without effort.

One Star Examples: Trophy Dark, Dungeon Bitches, Vampire the Masquerade Five Star Examples: Honey Heist, Princess World, Beach Episode

The system here isn't about what's good or bad, to be clear. I think there are good and bad games at every level of these categories, but when I think about what my game group is good at and comfy with, I don't think we go in for things at like the 5 end of the Writers Room scale. It's too much work, and most of them aren't pro improvisers.

Similarly, if we play another game that is a 4 or 5 on the PrepWork category, I don't have time to run it these days. So this helps me make practical choices about our next game.

[in-case-of-grace]

Alternatives to "GM" in TTRPGs

Spurred by a recent post from @imsobadatnicknames2 that found its way into my feed by way of @anim-ttrpgs' addition (this post got too big to be a reblog sorry), I've been thinking about the influence of the terms we use for the host-and-narrator role in a TTRPG. Each tends to carry some connotations and implications as to what the role might entail, and these can influence how people play your game.

At best, this may enforce your intended roles for the game, alongside its themeing. At worst, your chosen term for this role may create false assumptions, and lead to people approaching it in a way that makes it unfun for them.

There's also an aesthetic component to consider! Having a term that matches your genre and vibe can go a long way! It's gonna be a balancing act— does the term change how people interact with your game enough to become a problem? Does it match and enforce your themes and aesthetics strongly enough to balance some of those problems out?

Below, I'm gonna go over a couple common (and uncommon) terms for this role and what I think their connotations, implications, and best usecases are here. These are gonna be beholden to my own biases, of course— and you may see different connotations entirely! Maybe it'll help folk think more about what terms they want to use!

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"Game Master" is very gamey. It implies that this person is setting up a bunch of specific, pre-made mechanical challenges-- like an obstacle course. I will admit that it does have the weakest connotations of all the commonly used terms I'm aware of, though-- simply by virtue of it having become so commonplace across all sorts of games.

I think it works best with chunkier, mechanically heavy games. Due to it having a weak connotation, though, it won't hurt your game if you use it elsewhere, it is kind of the baseline these days, after all.

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"Storyteller" implies that this person is sitting everyone down and telling them a story. Like putting on a play. There's an implication that they are going to be controlling most of the narrative here-- and that the players don't have as much say in it.

It's also technically incorrect, given that...well, the players are storytellers too! The point of these games is to tell a story together!

It can work for more narratively focused games, it has some lighthearted, cutesy vibes that can be a good fit for some-- but its connotations can lead to this person taking more control than you may actually intend for them to have in your game.

It's one that I don't think accurately fits a lot of games, and is chosen more for its aesthetics and vibes. (Something I have done before, and with time it bothers me more and more.)

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"Narrator" is the opposite of Storyteller-- it implies, to me, that this person has less say in the narrative than the players. They are there to impartially narrate and describe the world's reactions to what the players do, little else. A passive observer, almost.

I think it can still work fine for plenty of games-- especially those with contemporary settings. It's the sort that, to me, feels more suited to sandboxy games that are more focused on providing a bunch of simulationist tools for players to poke and prod the world with, rather than on telling a structured narrative.

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"Dungeon Master" is particularly genre-limited. It carries a lot of the same implications that GM does, but for fantasy games in specific-- especially dungeon crawlers.

Only making a special note of it here since it is tied to A Particularly Big Game in the community. Its connotations are much stronger than GM's, though, and it feels out of place in rules light games— unless they are specifically set in a dungeon.

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"Director" is one that can have drastically different implications depending on the background of who reads it. If they're a film buff, they'll think it implies that this role has final say on everything, and retains high levels of control that the players do not share. Very much akin to Storyteller.

However if the person reading it is more familiar with video games, and the Left 4 Dead series (and games inspired it) in particular, they'll see the Director role as something more reactive and behind the scenes. They may think this person is responsible for improvising and presenting the players with challenges and scenarios that match their current situation— be it narrative or mechanical.

There may have been a specific plan made ahead of time, but it is filled with a ton of contingencies, with an expectation that improv will fill in the gaps.

Though like Narrator, the L4D type of Director implies a somewhat passive, observer role that isn't meant to have a say in the story.

I think most people will see it with film connotations rather than the Left 4 Dead connotations— which is unfortunate, considering that the L4D type of Director is actually really well suited for certain types of TTRPGs. I think "Game Director" vs "Director" may help alleviate this somewhat, but I'm unsure how effective it'd be as I don't think most people share the L4D brain association I do.

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"Referee," "Arbiter," "Judge," and "Moderator" all share the same problem as Narrator-- but 10 times worse. These are all heavily laced in passive connotations-- and imply that this person is there simply to determine the outcomes of mechanical situations, but has no say in the narrative.

They can work nicely with like, sports or competition TTRPGs in specific, though.

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"Master of Ceremonies (MC)" implies that you're not playing a game, but that this person is about to lead you through an awards ceremony, drop some bars, or host some stuffy 500 year old regal event called "the Ceremony of the Ballet Fish" or something.

I don't think this one fits in TTRPGs like, at all, frankly. I just cannot imagine someone in that role being referred to as an "MC" unless we're talking about a game that is specifically about a ceremony, or rap.

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"Caretaker" implies that this person's role is to maintain and care for the world, game, and story. It implies that they not only facilitate the garden you're all playing in, but that they also trim or rearrange it to suit everyone's needs-- including their own.

I actually think this one is very nice. It doesn't imply that they're an absolute monarch, nor does it imply that they're a passive observer. It also manages to encapsulate the amount of background work the role can often require, without taking away their say in the resulting narrative.

A Caretaker has agency in the story, while remaining cognizant and receptive of the players' agency, too.

This works really well for games focused on telling collaborative narratives, but I think it can also work fairly well for mechanically focused ones as well. It feels pretty versatile!

This one is new to me and I honestly might start using it for my games going forward, unless someone knows of a common connotation I'm unaware of!

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"Facilitator," and "Host" both imply that this person provides the space and tools for the game, and nothing else. They handed the players the keys, told them to lock up after they're done, and left to go do sick flips in their motorcycle or something nerds do.

To me, the term by itself implies this person has very little to do with the actual game. I don't think these work any better than, say, GM, without a thematic justification.

Host could be amazing for some sort of bio-horror game— or for a game show RPG. Facilitator feels DoA to me. Both, however, could work if your game really is set up so the Facilitator/Host just provides tools to the players and does little else.

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"Guide" implies that this person takes on a fairly hand-holdy role in leading the players through the game and its narrative. Maybe not quite railroading, but they definitely do a lot to keep the players on track.

This one, I feel, carries some "teacher" connotation— as if this person is responsible for teaching the players the rules. It's on them, not the players, to read and remember the actual rules.

I feel that this connotation largely ruins what good this term could do.

But, it can still work well in certain cases. If your game really is meant to have a focused, linear narrative, it can work quite well. The same goes for specific genres or settings— such as anything dealing with camping, national parks, or tourism.

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"Overseer" taken at face value, actually could be pretty apt. They'd be someone who oversees the game and does what they can to keep things fun.

Unfortunately, due to the word's use in workplace environments and dystopian fiction— it has some pretty heavy cultural connotations that turn it more into a dictator role. They have complete and total control over the game and its narrative, even if the players disagree with their choices.

I think it can work well for games that deal with dystopian or corporate settings, where this person might actually be meant to have more control, or simply for the flavor— but not a ton else.

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"Producer" is vaguely similar to the film-style Director-- in the sense that it comes from film. However, unlike the Director, a Producer coordinates and works together with the players to tell their story. It's a more collaborative role that shares power and agency more evenly with the table.

This also somewhat accurately implies the amount of work that goes into the role, much like the Caretaker.

However, given its origins, it doesn't imply they're playing a game— I can't entirely explain why, but it feels similar to MC in this sense. The term is very heavily entrenched in its origins, and carries strong film connotations— even though, yes, video games have producers too!

I think it'd be rad to see games using this, though. In time the strong film connotations may shake off! Like Caretaker, I think it's fairly versatile and could be well suited for a wide variety of games.

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Niche terms such as keeper, warden, overlord, president, deity, and fixer are always worth considering, too! These tend to just be one-offs used in a specific TTRPG, that suit their setting and tone in particular.

Now, each can and does have its own implications and connotations to consider— weigh those against how well it serves the vibes of your game before you lock in!

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"Host and Narrator (HAN)" implies the same things that these terms do separately-- but combines them to offset (some of) their downsides. This implies that they host and provide the tools needed for playing the game, yes, but also that they actually stick around to narrate and respond to the players.

When Narrator is combined with Host here, I think this also transforms into something a little closer to the Caretaker— as the Host and Narrator both, they have more of an active role in maintaining the space (and story) they've provided.

It feels similarly versatile, as a result. I just made this one up and don't know if there are any games that use it already, it could have legs— it is a little dry and flavorless, though. This may give it a potential leg up on Caretaker, which does have a lil bit of a lighthearted vibe that may feel off in, say, a horror game.

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Honorable mentions - Scenestress - Conductor - SOUP (Story Overseer United (with) Players) - Their Majesty - MOMMY (Mediator Over Making Mythic Yarns) - JOE (Joe Ojoe Ejoe) - Representative (REP) - Doormat

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Again, these are all just according to the implications and connotations I find in these terms— you may find others! What you pick is going to depend on you, your game, and your intended audience!

I don't know if perfect terms exist, and it's wise to explain whichever you use within your rulebooks— just to ensure that someone else's biases and assumptions don't lead to them misinterpreting things.

Is there anything I missed? Any terms you like to use? Do you have a vastly different set of assumptions for one of these terms? Please share!

[austinramsaygames]

Pro tip for world building: if you have an entity designed for the players to fight in combat, don't name it "pirate", "raider," "soldier" or something equally generic. And ESPECIALLY don't name their faction that!

It's much more characterful to give them a place or people that they come from.

Easy example: Fallout 3 vs Fallout: New Vegas

Fallout 3 has raiders, raiders, and more raiders.

New Vegas has Great Khans, Fiends, Powder Gangers, Jackals, Scorpions, Vipers, and Greasers.

All of the above are effectively "raiders" but New Vegas offers 7 different (or at least theoretically different) raider cultures with their own histories, while Fallout 3 has 1, maybe 0, raider cultures.

Even just naming these NPC groups will develop the world because it'll either make the players or YOU, the designer, ask questions about why they are named that.

In short: every NPC has a group they belong to, so at least name the groups.

PS: if you want more game design thoughts from me, my Patreon is here.

[tinytablepodcast]

Fun fact: Violet actually had this trait, it just never came up during our actual play.

Nothing can break Violet's composure :3 (a lie)

"I'm Okay, You're Okay," investigator Trait from Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy. Every investigator has 3 to 6 Traits!

[ostrichmonkey-games]

Was talking about sandbox design in a ttrpg server, and though this is a bit tongue-in-cheek, I think these really are good things to consider when you approach sandbox design in a ttrpg (and elsewhere!)

[from-the-notebooks]

Do other ttrpg designers do historical research when making historical games?

I have to assume the GURPS splat books had some behind them but I'm just wondering if its weird that I plan to have a bibliography for my cute little Fate hack? I just want it to be accurate as much as possible.