Saturday, August 16, 2025

#RPGaDay2025 Day 16 Overcome

We talk a lot about what characters fight in fantasy RPGs; goblins, dragons, liches, whatever’s on the random encounter table that day.

But what really matters? What sticks?

 It’s what they overcome.

And I don’t just mean hit point totals.

Sometimes it’s the curse that’s been lingering for three levels. The guilt over a party member’s death. The temptation of a dark deal that still echoes in their dreams. The fear that they’re not the hero the prophecy promised.

Those are the real battles. The quiet ones. The personal ones.

I love when players come to the table thinking, “We’re going to win the day,” and leave thinking, “My character just grew.” They faced something hard, physically, emotionally, spiritually, and came out the other side a little different.

That’s overcoming.

It might be finishing off the necromancer who burned your village. It might be choosing not to take revenge. It might be sacrificing power for the sake of someone else. It might be finally, finally, telling the truth.

In fantasy RPGs, we often start with heroes already equipped to face the world: magic, swords, destiny. But the best stories show us that even heroes have things they struggle with, and that overcoming those things can be even more epic than slaying the monster.

The witch who overcomes isolation. The warlock who breaks their pact. The paladin who overcomes doubt. The thief who finds something worth protecting.

As DMs and writers, it’s easy to focus on obstacles that hurt the body. But don’t forget the ones that hurt the heart. They’re harder to stat, but so much more rewarding to resolve.

So next time you’re writing an arc, or running a game, or building a character, ask yourself: What have they overcome? And what still lies ahead?

Because the adventure isn’t just about who they fight.

It’s about who they become.

Questions

Where. Proud. Genre. First all matching roll, all 3s.

Where was I particularly proud of a genre? Easy. Victorian era RPGs. As a genre I see very little infighting between groups of games, and nearly everyone gets along and lover to share ideas with each other.

#RPGaDAY2025

Friday, August 15, 2025

#RPGaDay2025 Day 15 Deceive

Fantasy Friday Edition

Deception is everywhere in fantasy.

Illusions, glamours, false faces. Changeling children. Cursed bargains. Secret kings. The villain who was never in the dungeon, the hero who was never truly on your side.

It’s one of the oldest elements of the genre, right up there with swords and spells. And in fantasy RPGs, deception is more than a skill check; it’s a tool of worldbuilding, character development, and tension.

A good deception makes players second-guess everything.

  •  The map they followed.
  •  The patron they trusted.
  •  The sword they pulled from the stone.

And that’s where the fun begins.

Deception in a fantasy game can be as simple as a bandit pretending to be a merchant, or as complex as an entire kingdom under a curse where no one remembers the truth. One of my favorite tools? Having a monster pose as an innocent. A cursed noble. A helpful spirit. A fellow adventurer.

Because when the truth finally comes out? That’s the moment everyone remembers.

Now, not every game needs trickery. Sometimes you want a good old-fashioned dungeon crawl, no lies, just orcs. But even then, somewhere in the back of your mind, you know:

  • The statue’s watching.
  • The innkeeper’s too friendly.
  • The mayor is hiding something.

And then there's magic.

Magic and deception go hand in hand in fantasy. Illusionists specialize in lies made visible. Witches glamour themselves or trick the eye with shadow. Fey creatures make promises that twist into traps.

Cursed items whisper to the wielder until they think the voice is their own. 

But deception isn’t just for NPCs and villains. Sometimes the players lie. To NPCs, to each other, to themselves. Maybe the warlock claims their power comes from “an ancient ancestor,” not a hungry patron. Maybe the cleric keeps a secret god. Maybe the rogue isn’t just good at lying, they need to lie.

Because the truth is too dangerous to speak aloud.

In a good fantasy RPG, deception isn't just trickery, it’s drama. It’s tension. It’s story.

And sometimes the best twists aren’t the ones you plan, they’re the ones the players create through the lies their characters tell.

So here’s to deceit.

The double agent. The doppelgänger. The mask that slips. The lie that changes the world when it’s finally revealed.

After all, what’s fantasy without a bit of misdirection?


Questions

What. Envious. Adventure.

What adventure am I envious of? I would have to say the original Greyhawk Campaign of TAGDQ adventures. I would love to play through them again using AD&D 1st Edition, or maybe Castles & Crusades. That would be a lot of fun. 

#RPGaDAY2025

Thursday, August 14, 2025

#RPGaDay2025 Day 14 Mystery

 In games, a mystery is often a question that needs solving. Who stole the artifact? What’s making the villagers sick? Why won’t the dead stay dead?

But in the occult, mystery is something deeper, a little more profound.

Not a puzzle to be solved, but a truth too big to grasp all at once.

The word “occult” itself means hidden. Not evil, not dangerous, just concealed. Veiled. Enfolded in symbols and silence. Not because it can’t be known, but because it must be experienced to be understood.

That’s how I treat mystery in my games, not as a locked box waiting for the right roll, but as a revelation that unfolds slowly, ritually, even dangerously.

The best mysteries aren’t just plot hooks. They are tones. They are atmosphere. They’re what makes the players lean in when you lower your voice.

They start small:

  • A name whispered in a dream.
  • A mirror that stops reflecting.
  • A string of deaths that all share the same wound, but nothing else.

They grow:

  • The name shows up in an old ledger.
  • The mirror reappears in another town.
  • The wound pattern matches something from a war that ended centuries ago.

Until suddenly, the players realize: this isn’t a mystery they’re solving. This is a mystery they’re becoming part of.

That’s when you know it’s working.

Because the greatest mysteries don’t just exist to be explained.

 They exist to transform.

The occult traditions get this. The Mystery Schools weren’t lecture halls. They were initiatory experiences. To understand the mystery, you had to live it. You had to enter the cave, drink the wine, draw the circle, speak the name.

That’s the energy I try to bring to my witch stories and adventures.

The mystery is the magic.

 Not the “what,” but the why.

 Not the “how do we fix this,” but the “what happens if we don’t.”

And the best part?

Even I don’t always know the answer!

Because a real mystery… changes everyone who touches it.

This is an idea I’ll come back to again in this challenge, but specifically Day 26. 

Questions

Who. Enthusiastic. Art.

Who's art am I enthusiastic about? I would have to say my good friend Djinn. She always does a great job with my characters and I look forward to seeing what she does with them.

#RPGaDAY2025

Wednesday, August 13, 2025

#RPGaDay2025 Day 13 Darkness

Witchcraft Wednesday Edition

“The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.”

- H.P. Lovecraft

Darkness is the first unknown.

Before the gods named the stars. Before light was separated from shadow. Before the world had shape or time or form, there was darkness.

Every myth begins there.

In Greek myth, the cosmos was born from Chaos, and from Chaos came Nyx, Night itself. In Norse myth, the void was Ginnungagap, yawning and unknowable. In Kabbalistic lore, creation emerged from the Ain Soph, an infinite darkness with no boundary. Even Genesis opens with a spirit hovering over the waters, formless, in the dark.

Witches know this.

They don’t fear the dark. They come from it.

In the worlds I create and the characters I write, darkness is never just the absence of light, it’s the primordial potential. A place of power, transformation, and unknowable truth.

Yes, it’s where monsters live. Yes, it’s where danger lurks. But it’s also where secrets are kept. Where mysteries are born. Where souls are shaped.

Lovecraft leaned hard into the fear side of things, his darkness is cosmic, uncaring, and overwhelming. I get that. The fear of the unknown is real, valid, and a great tool at the game table. You don’t have to describe the thing in the dark. Sometimes it’s scarier when you don’t.

But I’m just as interested in the power of darkness. The depth. The origin-point.

Witches in my games don’t shine a lantern to dispel the dark; they listen to it. They ask it questions. They trace the shape of what’s moving just beyond the edge of sight.

And when my players step into darkness, literal or metaphorical, they know it’s not just a place of danger. It’s a threshold. It’s where the story shifts.

You can’t cast a shadow without light. But you can’t understand light without the dark. You need both.

So as we stand at the edge of the next room, the next decision, the next truth too big to see all at once, I remind my players:

Go ahead. Step into the dark.

 It’s where all things begin.

Questions

How. Envious. Character.

How was I envious of my characters? I don't know. Their ability to pick up languages in the game was always great. I speak English, learned German in High School, took some Japanese in college, and learned some Irish Gaelic and Spanish since then. Each one has been a struggle. But I keep at it.


#RPGaDAY2025

Tuesday, August 12, 2025

#RPGaDay2025 Day 12 Path

One of the great metaphors in fantasy gaming is the path.

Every character is on one, whether they know it or not. Sometimes it’s clear from the start: a paladin on the road to righteousness, a rogue fleeing their past, a wizard chasing forgotten lore. Other times, the path isn’t chosen, it’s revealed, one strange step at a time.

For players, the path is often literal. You travel from town to dungeon, from forest to ruin, from the known to the unknown. There are forks in the road, trails in the wilderness, portals that beckon, and thresholds you can’t uncross. It’s all part of the adventure.

But behind that? There’s always something deeper.

The Path is also about identity.

 The journey a character takes from what they were to what they might become. And for the best characters and the best players, it’s not a straight line.

In the real world, we often imagine that our paths are chosen. Career paths. Life paths. But more often than not, they’re shaped by the things we stumble into, the things we say “yes” to, and the things we survive. The same is true in fantasy.

Witches and warlocks, the characters I write about the most often, don’t always choose their path. Sometimes they hear the call in dreams. Sometimes they’re marked by birth. Sometimes they’re just the only ones brave (or foolish) enough to follow a trail that ends in blood and moonlight. But once they’re on it, there’s no going back. The world has changed them. Or maybe the change was already there, and the path is just catching up.

In game terms, the path can be mechanical: levels, powers, subclasses, destinies. But in story terms? It’s mythic.

  • The path of atonement.
  • The path of vengeance.
  • The path of knowledge, or power, or healing, or truth.
  • The path that says this is who I am now.

Sometimes you wander off it. Sometimes you make a new one. Sometimes you find out it was never yours to begin with. 

But one thing’s always true: Once the path calls you, you walk it.

Even if you don’t know where it leads.


Questions

When. Enthusiastic. Lesson.

Oh, I have a good lesson I learned and I learned it with enthusiasm.

I have played exactly 1 ninja my entire gaming life.  His name was (horrible I know) Oko-nishi.  My lame attempts at a Japanese-sounding name.  In my defense at what I knew was bad I made him a half-orc.  It must have been around this time I made him using the AD&D 1st Ed Oriental Adventure rules.  

My then DM, Grenda,  and I had worked up a D&D combat simulator (we called it BARD), and we plugged him in with 9 other characters.  He was attacked by a Black Dragon (or Red, I can't recall) and killed. The dragon kept attacking him and only him.  We had not worked out all the errors. In the end, he had been reduced to something like -70 hp.  My DM offered to let him be ok or keep him dead. 

We enjoyed watching it so much and getting the mental image of this stupid dragon jumping up and down on my dead ninja that I felt it was a waste to say it never happened.

#RPGaDAY2025

Monday, August 11, 2025

#RPGaDay2025 Day 11 Flavor

jalapeños
Monstrous Monday Edition

Every DM has their seasoning.

Some go for high fantasy heroics. Some love swashbuckling pulp. Some dive deep into political intrigue or dungeon-crawling strategy.

 Me?

I like my monsters with a touch of horror.

Okay, more than a touch.

Call it the jalapeño principle: whatever the dish is, a little heat makes it better. And for me, that heat is horror.

Doesn’t matter what system I’m running, D&D, Pathfinder, Wasted Lands, even a more story-driven game like Daggerheart or Blue Rose, my monsters always bring a certain Flavor. And that Flavor usually tastes like grave dust, candle smoke, and old houses.

It goes back to my origin story, Dark Shadows, Hammer Horror, witch trial folklore, and that first glimpse into the Monster Manual. I didn’t just want monsters that challenged the players mechanically. I wanted monsters that unsettled them. That made them ask, What is this thing really? And worse, why does it know my name?

Even the familiar creatures, such as your trolls, kobolds, and giant spiders, get filtered through that lens. A vampire in my game isn’t just a bloodsucker. She’s a former lover, an ancient queen, or a fragment of a forgotten god, wearing a corpse like a wedding dress. Kobolds are not just a type of humanoid; they are the lost souls of miners who died underground. Trolls? They are the last remnants of an ancient species that fought the gods and lost. 

And the truly unique monsters? The ones I design from scratch?

 They’re stitched together from nightmares, folklore, and the weird corners of mythology that don’t get cleaned up for public consumption.

I like monsters that linger. Not just in combat, but in the imagination. The kind that leave players looking over their shoulder even after the dice stop rolling.

Tone matters. Flavor matters.

It’s the difference between “you fight a ghost” and “you wake up with frost on your fingertips, and realize something is weeping under the floorboards.”

That’s the Flavor I chase.

A little uncanny. A little dread. Enough shadow to make the torchlight meaningful. 

So yeah. You can run your monsters however you like. Heroic. Mythic. Comedic, even.

But me?

I’m going to keep tossing in the horror jalapeños.

 And trust me, my players wouldn’t have it any other way.


Questions

Why. Confident. Rule.

What rule are you the most confident in and why?

Yesterday I talked about the rule I was envious of. To turn it around today I'll talk about a rule I did come up with that I am most happy about. In Ghosts of Albion there are magical philosophies and these change how you learn and use magic. We playtested the hell out of these and I love how to work in the game. I'd love to do something similar for my witch classes.


#RPGaDAY2025

Sunday, August 10, 2025

#RPGaDay2025 Day 10 Origin

Monster Manual
Yesterday, I talked about inspiration, the strange, eerie, or mythic things that spark our imagination and send us off chasing stories in the dark.

But before there was inspiration, there was origin.

Mine?

It starts in a quiet classroom in 1979.  Washington Elementary School, Jacksonville, Illinois. “Silent reading” time. Most kids had The Phantom Tollbooth or Ramona the Pest.

I had the Monster Manual.

Or, more accurately, I had my friend’s copy of the Monster Manual, because I didn’t have one of my own yet. Not easy to come by in a tiny, near-bible-belt town. But once I saw it? Once I opened it and saw the hydra, the efreet, the demons, devils, and displacer beasts? The vampires!

I was gone.

Hooked. Claimed. Branded.

The Monster Manual wasn’t just a game book, it was a grimoire.

A bestiary of monsters that felt as real as anything I’d read in the Greek myths I was already devouring.

That was my origin point. That was the moment I became the ĂĽber-geek you all know today. (And yes, I use the umlauts. That’s my street cred.)

I borrowed that book.

 And read.

 And read.

 And read.

I’m pretty sure I had the whole thing memorized before I even played my first game. The mechanics were confusing, the art was a little weird, but the imagination? Unmatched. That’s the moment that formed me.

And ever since then, every game book I pick up gets judged against what I call the Monster Manual Scale.

How close does this book come to giving me that feeling? That rush of wonder, danger, mystery, and possibility?

Some have come close. A few have hit the mark.

C.J. Carella’s WitchCraft gave me that same feeling. So did Wasted Lands, in a different, deeper way.

That’s my origin.

 But here’s the thing: everyone who comes to this hobby has one.

And your origin shapes everything:

  • The kind of stories you like to tell.
  • The kinds of characters you play.
  • The mechanics you care about (or happily ignore).
  • The tone you aim for at your table.
  • The feel of fantasy that feels right to you.

Maybe your origin is Tolkien. Maybe it’s anime. Maybe it’s heavy metal album covers and 1980s horror movies. Oh, I guess I am still talking about me here. Maybe it was a family member who taught you to roll dice, or a weird little book you found at a garage sale that opened a door in your brain you’ve never quite shut again. Maybe you got here via Critical Role.

Whatever it was, your origin matters.

 It doesn’t just explain how you game.

 It explains why.

So think back. What was it? What was your Monster Manual? And have you passed it on yet?


Questions

Why. Envious. Rule. Ok...

What rule am I envious of and why? I really have been enjoying the Hope & Fear mechanic of Daggerheart and wish it had been something I had come up with myself. It is a fun narrative device for both the players and game master, who often doesn't get a narrative point device like this. 

#RPGaDAY2025