The Fall of the King of Sota: Chapter Five

 

One of the things that is hard to communicate about Crescendo is not only how different each session feels, but how the game absolutely refuses to go according to your expectations. You absolutely cannot follow the rules as intended and not be surprised each session. There is nothing quite like the sheer level of tonal variety that Crescendo provides.

And this session showcases that reality really well.

The players and I thought this session would be an absolute bloodbath: the elf who keeps the evil within Cleft Mountain sealed away and the monstrous Abbadon, together in a session! That should not have worked out.

And yet.

This session brings out tech that I didn't even think may be necessary anymore: the direct challenging of Beliefs by the Weaver. Turns out, sometimes the players do manage to pull it together, and the Weaver has to be ready to make up situations that subvert and challenge their Beliefs/Debts.

ALSO: apparently I have a lot of homework. The players walked in with lore based off of what I had presented in the Setting Bible, in the first session, it turns out I may have more homework coming up. This was fantastic! People are understanding the bones of the setting well enough to riff of it and tell me what the setting does.

Chapter Five: Oikaya 19

The Fall of of the King of Sota: Chapter Four

 

This. This right here. Is the steel chair session. People started getting used to the system, and it just.. it sang. Crescendo's mechanics are reactive to player action. They intensify it and push it back into the fiction, making things wild and unpredictable.

And in this session, for the first time, I saw those mechanics sing. They weren't just good or even fantastic. Crescendo actually hit a Platonic ideal.

Oikaya 13-17

And, of course, it all began in the Discord. At the end of Chapter Three, we had a mob march on Lady Marie's compound. It all looked gone for Lady Marie. 

And then this happened.

Lady Marie’s forces, after three grueling days of fighting with the rioters, defeated them. The mob would have gotten Lady Marie, if not for the timely intervention of a young nobleman, named Eric. A rice farmer named Arriquard, along with  Father Laurentius, who were leading the mob, were injured and went into hiding… at least until Fr. Laurentius reappeared and began preaching about the evils of the nobility, particularly Lady Marie and Mother Elise, who were employing long-forgotten dark elf rituals to gain immortality through drinking children’s blood. He then began to give generously to the poor and homeless.

Ghosts have been spotted in the ruins of New Sota City, post-riots. People are beginning to wonder if the town isn’t legitimately cursed.


On Oikaya 17, a bunch of stones dropped from the sky, killing some, injuring others.

Dice were rolled and nothing went the way we expected. Lady Marie didn't go down, she got stronger. Not a damn thing that we thought was going to happen, did.

Chapter Four (Oikaya 17)

And then this utter apeshit craziness happened.

I don't have words. I genuinely don't. Cal and I talked on the phone afterwards, and were just... totally babbling about it. You have to see it to believe it. Every second is utter craziness. It really can't be summed up. It is a Platonic ideal.

Next week is the first Storystein. And that is when we make RPG history, because nothing else even remotely like this exists, anywhere. 

Demon City: Read Thru, Part Two

 

Welcome back! This week, we're continuing on with my read-thru of Demon City.

This game has found me in the middle of a really interesting transition, and it's relevant for this part of the read-through, so we're going to get into that first.

Yes, There is Objectively Good Design in TTRPGs

We have to get this out of the way, because apparently it's a controversial point. There's good game design, as an objective reality.

I will define what good design is for the purposes of this blog post:

Design that, when used properly, gives back more than it takes.

Random tables are objectively good design. They almost always give back more than they take. Obviously, it's possible for implementation to screw up a random table. Yes, it's possible to screw up implementation, but it's pretty hard to really screw up a random table. The point is, a random table takes a load off the GM that allows him to not spend so freaking much mental power during the game. It is objectively better to have a random table over not having one. Sorry not sorry.

There is also bad design:

Design that, even when used properly, takes more energy than what it gives back. 

The entirety of F.A.T.A.L. is an example of bad design. Overcomplicated, bloated, and needlessly detailed... oh and it's also one of the most hatefully stupid games of all time. Hilarious to read, though!

1:1 PVP Is Superior

So, for the last month and a half I've been running a 1:1 PVP  game, also known as a Braunstein. The players are all inherently against each other, and plotting against each other, Diplomacy-style. I don't plan situations, I just take their orders, make sure they make sense, and then adjudicate how everything collides together. Then, when the play sessions come up, I just focus on shaking things up as hard as I can, forcing the players to reconsider what they're doing.

And it is objectively the most fun I have ever had running a game. Just flat out. It's not close, it's not subtle. I don't plan. I don't push. I don't even think about the future. I manage. I just sit back, people fuck around, and they find out.

I have had a more meaningful time. You've got tape, right on this blog, of some campaigns I've run that are magical. Actual magic. 

But I have not had a more fun time running a game, ever. It's awesome.

Yeah, I spend "just about" as much time adjudicating actions between sessions as I did prepping, if not more so, but it's not prep: it's play. It's not work, it's fun! I'm having a blast! I get regular installments of this completely unhinged fantasy EVENT. All for the low price of setting up the scenario and telling everyone not to play nice.

So, to recap, 1:1 PVP gets me more enjoyment for far less work, if not less time, and has pretty much redefined what I want out of a game.

So This Game Found Me At An Interesting Juncture

Two months ago? I would have eaten this game up with a freaking spoon. Immediately. 

But Father Time is fleeting and cruel.

Now, I am absolutely not in the target audience of this book, not anymore. See, you have to convince me that leaving 1:1 PVP would be just as worthwhile as running it. And that is an ask. A real ask. Because I now got a system that automatically maintains moment, right through missed sessions and weird adult life schedules and other basic problems of "stop time" in RPGs, and I am absolutely happy with it. You have to really sell me on playing this game at this point.

The sections we're covering in the book today are the Host advice, worldbuilding help, actual pitches for campaigns, and some "sketches" to help the Host riff.

The Host Advice

Oh man, Father Time is so cruel. This should have stolen my heart. And two months ago, it would have. There's a distillation of all the different kinds of horror "plots", sorta like plot infrastructure for Hosts to use, without railroading players. And this section is brilliant. If you're not running 1:1 PVP.. you need to read this section. Like, you owe Zak S for this part of the book, alone. Zak breaks down different kinds of plot structures that players can move around in so thoroughly and well that it would be stupid to not get the book.

But, given that this wasn't two months ago? But was just read a few days ago?

Yeah.

I don't particularly need it. Which is incredibly weird. It's so well-written, and I could see adapting some of it, particularly the "dungeon style" plot, but this is fantastic advice for something I don't plan on doing that much anymore. It is, without a doubt, the best guide for "stop time" TTRPGs ever written.

Not close.

Worldbuilding Help

I loved literally every sentence in this section. The book breaks down how to access archives, how Uber drivers can be useful, and how the FBI actually works in a way that I find relevant. There's not a bad word in this section, other GMing guides should be legitimately ashamed that they don't think to put stuff like this in their games, and if they do, do it better. Kthx.

Seriously. Again, this is S+ tier stuff. Literally no notes.

Campaign Pitches

How the fuck is this section even better???

So, Zak breaks down how to make distinctive campaigns, with little modifications and hacks to the system to reward certain kinds of actions. If you're playing the game, just steal these ideas, outright. But if you're not, this section is a masterclass in manipulating the system lightly to provide a compelling campaign pitch to your players. Literally it's all perfect. This one section sells me on running Demon City by itself. I cannot praise it enough. There's about a half-dozen pitches in here, and they's even a Stranger Things kinda a pitch, and it's awesome.

Sketches

So, this one's a bit of a weird section, but it's essentially a bunch of just half-baked enough ideas that you can insert into a campaign. There's tons of ideas on how to weaponize crime in the interest of horror games. This section is worth revisiting, from time to time, to have it jog your imagination. Zak S literally rewrote how I think RPG books should be written, with this one section.

So Yeah. 

Demon City is an absolute masterclass in TTRPG design. Zak S cooked here. The Host advice is the best "how to actually run horror without railroading" material I've ever read. The worldbuilding section is criminally practical. The campaign pitches are pure rocket fuel, and the sketches section single-handedly raised my standards for what an RPG book should deliver.

If you're running traditional stop-time games—especially horror, mystery, or modern-day campaigns—you should buy this book yesterday. It will make you a better GM, full stop. Even if you never run Demon City itself, the ideas here will level up whatever you're doing.

But for me? Right now? It's bittersweet.

This game found me at the exact moment I fell in love with something else. 1:1 PVP has ruined me (in the best way). It delivers consistent chaos, player-driven drama, and zero prep guilt in a way that feels almost unfair to everything else. I still love what Demon City is doing. I respect the hell out of it. Parts of it will definitely leak into my Braunsteins. But the honest truth is I'm not rushing to switch back to traditional campaign play.

Father Time is cruel like that.

This was Part 2 of my read-through, focusing on the GM-facing material. There's still at least one more part to go. If I do not see you next week, I do not blame you.

It is no easy road.

The Fall of the King of Sota: Chapter Three

So, this was the first time we were able to have two Chapters in a week. It did not disappoint. We had a blast, as things in New Sota City and at Cleft Mountain completely fell apart. We're three chapters in, and almost all the initial plans have completely fallen apart, and everyone is scrambling.

Chapter Three (Oikaya 12)

This is definitely the session where the players discovered just how bad it was tanking Conditions. Since recovering from Conditions (which you have to do first) removes you from scheming between Chapters, the players from Chapter Two are almost entirely at the mercy of the events during Chapter Three!

But you need Conditions to advance your character.

Oops.

The Seraph Omega Rangers: Session 2

 

"RISE"

We decided that about two weeks had gone by. Jackson and Janet were part of a survivor group, who were raiding the nearby Whole Foods after dark, picking through the adjacent strip mall under cover of night to avoid the flying rock vultures. While there, they noticed that people with guns were hoarding the canned goods. When others confronted them, they brandished their weapons.

Jackson and Janet snuck off, morphed, and came out to talk to the people with the guns. They tried to talk with the gun-toters, who were terrified. But, when the green and pink Seraph Omega rangers chose to be gentle, they calmed down a bit and explained they were just trying move the cans into a nearby underground storm shelter. When the Seraph Omega Rangers asked if the others could share the cans, they were told that could be arranged. Everyone relaxed

Everyone minus two. Jackson and Janet realized that two people had just... vanished... while the talking had been going on.

They didn't show up again the next day.

Two more people vanished after the next foraging foray.

And the one after that.

This next time, Janet and Jackson noticed that George, an older man, had different colored eyes: they were supposed to be blue, and were brown instead. He also moved with an odd predatory grace, which was subtle but evident enough. Nobody else seemed to notice. George glided up to Janine, a 14 year old girl who had just lost her parents the other day, and seemed to be comforting her. But it wasn't actually George, and Jackson and Janet knew they couldn't leave Janine with George.

So Janet and Jackson followed, quietly. They took great care to not be spotted as George and Janine drifted farther and farther back. Suddenly George turned fuligin, the color darker than black, and began to wrap around Janine like a bedsheet. His body thinned, and his head grew and began something that resembled a pterodactyl's.

Jackson and Janet morphed immediately, and the surprised "Pterrordactyl" dropped Janine. Jackson and Janet knew that if they didn't hurry, the stone vultures that soared the skies would descend upon them in the dozens. Janet pulled out her pink ranger bow, and Jackson pulled out his green ranger lance. They stabbed and shot the Pterrordactyl, who died surprisingly fast, without a scratch to either ranger. They quickly demorphed, and Jackson picked up the unconscious Janine.. only to have the freaking stone vultures see them.

They barricaded themselves into the strip mall. And outlasted the stone vultures, who were trying to break in. When daylight came and the stone vultures left, they went back to their homes.

Hungry.

The Fall of the King of the Sota: Chapter Two

The single greatest gift of 1:1 is an inherent sense of momentum. The real world for adults can be really nasty- more than half the group wasn't able to really participate because of sudden schedule shifts and the usual exhaustion of being an adult. But, because we had someone, somewhere, plotting and driving things forward, the people who couldn't do as much didn't have to feel bad. They could just check in, see things were happening, smile, and promise to get back to it as soon as they could. This creates a strong sense of belonging to a community, as people are all contributing to this project that will go on without them, but greatly values who they are as individuals.

Ransu 28 - Oikaya 9

New Sota City was the only place anything that can be reported publicly happened, as most of the people at Cleft Mountain were either caught up in family emergencies or were MIA. The following was dropped 

The spice merchants are hiring thugs to kill each other (the same guys and the thugs are also city guards). The fruit seller’s sister is dead, her husband is on the run and her brother murdered the minstrel in the middle of a show. The money changer got taken away by the guards and hasn’t been seen or heard of since.

corruption, greed, violence and paranoia have overtaken the market. All the merchants are plotting against each other, ripping people off and other terrible mischief. People in the city are furious with the price gouging, accusations and all that. They end up rioting and doing some lynching. The guards show up and kill a bunch of people.

at the barracks shit winds up in the soup and the cook’s daughter is blamed. The cook gets beaten. Meanwhile the guards start getting more and more unhinged. Unit cohesion starts falling apart, they start getting rough with the citizens and paranoid. Some of the ones who took part in the market massacre are going mad out of guilt.

a woman who is super gossipy spreads rumours that Father Laurentius is behind the market riot and the guys who are talking shit about the old kings and stuff. The guards are getting paranoid and extremely angry about it

The farmers outside the city are now having to defend their children from those same merchants trying to kidnap them for dark rituals inside the city. 

The farmers and surrounding villagers are forming militias and some say they're planning to march on the city itself. 

In other words:

 

Chapter Two - Oikaya 10

To put it simply: Things are currently in disaster right now. New Sota City seems about to tear itself apart, and it's only Chapter Two!

...and then we played.

Holy shit.

 The girl is resurrected and restored! And Mother Elise and Lady Marie accidentally give a ton more fuel for the "eat the rich" fires going on!

This is our second full session with the proper 1:1 PVP going on, and it is absolutely. Instead of the game stalling due to traveling and everything else, we created this powerful and ridiculous series of events that were amazing.

Nobody saw it coming. It didn't take much work... well other than me designing the tools. But that's for another blog post.

Point is. This was awesome!

Demon City: Read Thru, Part One

 

Welcome back! This week, we're beginning of my impressions of Demon City.

Every once in a while I run into an RPG that's so coherent that it can only be called foundational. If you read the game, you will walk away with your tastes fundamentally altered. These are the kinds of games that need to be read and played, because they will actually change you, and that's the kind of game you want to play. Stuff like ADnD 1e, Burning Wheel, and Ironsworn, even if you wind up not liking them change the way you do things, and I am of the opinion that such things should be in your library of games.

Demon City is one such entry.

Also: if your favorite RPG (or something monumental like, say ACKSII) isn't on that list, understand I am trying to talk about things that fundamentally change how you interact with the hobby, once read and understood.

Also also: I'm not claiming to make a definitive list. If you need absolute certainty, go to Hell. You'll find plenty of certainty there.

So, why is Demon City so important?

1. The only actually gameable usage of Tarot, at least so far.

2. It utterly understands what it's trying to model.

3. Its mechanics are objectively correct.

Tarot Is Hard to Design Around

My brother-in-law, Kyle, the smartest most erudite person I know, tried to design a tarot RPG for years. He gave up on it. couldn't wrap his head around it. This is the dude who taught me almost everything I know, and whose methods of learning enabled me to go on and do my own things. And he couldn't figure it out.

I've looked at a few games that claim to use tarot cards, like His Majesty the Wyrm. I have not been impressed, at all. They're usuually used as limited number generator, as opposed to fully exploring using cards and images for randomness. There's nothing in these games that I couldn't do with a regular deck of cards.

And Demon City absolutely nails it. You have multiple decks, with cards traveling between them. The layered imagery of tarot is used to full effect, not to mention that Zak doesn't shy away from going full on esoteric when necessay. It's a fine line to walk, but I didn't miss a beat with what Zak was saying.

Well, except the Rider deck is demonic. Fucking burn that thing please.

Demon City Utterly Understands Horror

The thing people do not understand is that cities, as we have constructed them, are abominations. The instant nature stops being a sparring partner and becomes our play-toy, something has gone horribly wrong. And cities are this play-toy dynamic fully expressed. Modern cities are actually horrifying. And Demon City takes every effort to show that it understands this fact.

And it does it by quoting Isaiah 24:12... which becomes all the more poignant once you just look at the full chapter:

Behold, the Lord maketh the earth empty, and maketh it waste, and turneth it upside down, and scattereth abroad the inhabitants thereof.

2 And it shall be, as with the people, so with the priest; as with the servant, so with his master; as with the maid, so with her mistress; as with the buyer, so with the seller; as with the lender, so with the borrower; as with the taker of usury, so with the giver of usury to him.

3 The land shall be utterly emptied, and utterly spoiled: for the Lord hath spoken this word.

4 The earth mourneth and fadeth away, the world languisheth and fadeth away, the haughty people of the earth do languish.

5 The earth also is defiled under the inhabitants thereof; because they have transgressed the laws, changed the ordinance, broken the everlasting covenant.

6 Therefore hath the curse devoured the earth, and they that dwell therein are desolate: therefore the inhabitants of the earth are burned, and few men left.

7 The new wine mourneth, the vine languisheth, all the merryhearted do sigh.

8 The mirth of tabrets ceaseth, the noise of them that rejoice endeth, the joy of the harp ceaseth.

9 They shall not drink wine with a song; strong drink shall be bitter to them that drink it.

10 The city of confusion is broken down: every house is shut up, that no man may come in.

11 There is a crying for wine in the streets; all joy is darkened, the mirth of the land is gone.

12 In the city is left desolation, and the gate is smitten with destruction.

13 When thus it shall be in the midst of the land among the people, there shall be as the shaking of an olive tree, and as the gleaning grapes when the vintage is done.

14 They shall lift up their voice, they shall sing for the majesty of the Lord, they shall cry aloud from the sea.

15 Wherefore glorify ye the Lord in the fires, even the name of the Lord God of Israel in the isles of the sea.

16 From the uttermost part of the earth have we heard songs, even glory to the righteous. But I said, My leanness, my leanness, woe unto me! the treacherous dealers have dealt treacherously; yea, the treacherous dealers have dealt very treacherously.

17 Fear, and the pit, and the snare, are upon thee, O inhabitant of the earth.

18 And it shall come to pass, that he who fleeth from the noise of the fear shall fall into the pit; and he that cometh up out of the midst of the pit shall be taken in the snare: for the windows from on high are open, and the foundations of the earth do shake.

19 The earth is utterly broken down, the earth is clean dissolved, the earth is moved exceedingly.

20 The earth shall reel to and fro like a drunkard, and shall be removed like a cottage; and the transgression thereof shall be heavy upon it; and it shall fall, and not rise again.

21 And it shall come to pass in that day, that the Lord shall punish the host of the high ones that are on high, and the kings of the earth upon the earth.

22 And they shall be gathered together, as prisoners are gathered in the pit, and shall be shut up in the prison, and after many days shall they be visited.

23 Then the moon shall be confounded, and the sun ashamed, when the Lord of hosts shall reign in mount Zion, and in Jerusalem, and before his ancients gloriously.

It is important to understand that the description of this city assumes that the people within it are rotten to the core, and have been abandoned so that the harsh and cruel world may take its pound of flesh.

Like it or not, this is modern horror in a nutshell: humanity fucked around, and now it's finding out. Horror is not about personal transgression punished, but the societal consequences of the rape of the natural world turned on its people.

Demon City understands this. Sharply.

The Mechanics Are Objectively Correct 

Look, folks, I don't say this lightly, but there's literally nothing incorrect about these mechanics. I don't mean they're good. I don't mean they're bad. I don't even mean enjoyable. I mean, when I'm reading these, Zak presents solutions to problems that are so good that I immediately know how to fix other games.

On almost. Every. Single. Freaking. Page.

From the incredible initiative system to the downtime actions leading to advancement... all of this is simply correct. There's more than a few games I can think of that would benefit from having these systems be dropped in, with almost no modifications. It's a shame these ideas haven't spread that much. May have to fix that, with my.... miniscule reach. But it's not nothing.

In Conclusion, 

Demon City is not just another horror RPG — it is a foundational work that earns its place alongside the greats. It delivers the rarest achievement in game design: a system that feels inevitable once you’ve seen it. The Tarot implementation is the first one that actually matters. The horror vision is unflinching and thematically profound, rooting modern urban dread in something ancient and true rather than cheap jump scares. And the mechanics are so clean and purposeful that they expose weaknesses in other games while offering elegant fixes you’ll want to steal. 

You may not run Demon City forever. You may not even love every session. But after reading and playing it, you will design, referee, and think about roleplaying games differently. That is the mark of the truly important titles — the ones that don’t just entertain, but reshape the hobby inside you.

We'll go onto the GMing section next week! It is here I leave you. If I do not see you next week, I do not blame you. It is no easy road.

Fixing Burning Wheel With Boot Hill

 

Yeah that’s right: Revised

Burning Wheel, at its best, is a game of raw aggression. You make your Beliefs and then the GM hacks at them in a frenzy that more than casually resembles sharks around a bleeding seal. If I got stuck on a deserted island and you asked me to pick one game, it would come down to Burning Wheel and mine own baby, Crescendo, and I don’t even know how that decision would go down. I would cry either way. 

What the Hell Is Burning Wheel?

Great question! Burning Wheel is a low-fantasy TTRPG, where you play characters who are driven by their Beliefs, Instincts, and Traits (BITs). You are rewarded for causing trouble with these BITs with Artha, which influence your dice rolls.

Beliefs are proactive statements of how you approach the world, which might include short-term goals. You get Artha for causing trouble on behalf of Beliefs and acting against them.

My father still has good in him. I will convince him of this.

My sister is our last hope.

Ben lied to me. I can never trust him again.

Instincts are reactions to specific circumstances. You gain Artha for acting on Instincts when it would get you in trouble.

Always Force-choke physical threats.

When socially confronted, do not back down.

Always protect family.

Traits are passive facts about you. Some of your Traits can net you Artha for acting on them in an entertaining manner.

Angry, Eloquent, Cautious

Now, in the Revised edition, you gain Artha immediately, by the GM. Later editions, like Gold and Gold Revised, move this reward to the end of the session. This is a mistake we'll get to in a bit, trying to address a much larger problem about Burning Wheel that we're going to address with this post!

This combination of BITs and Artha is a perfect storm of perfectly paced aggression. The GM is constantly after your BITs, you're trying to get Artha without getting totally screwed over, and when this game works it works, and nothing else compares, not even close.

Not even Crescendo, mine own baby which is the godson of Burning Wheel... but that's for another day. Crescendo is doing something different.

But

I haven’t seriously played Burning Wheel in five years.  

Now, part of that is because I have been working my ass off on Crescendo. I have done more research and playtesting and soul searching on this one game than others would put into a dozen games. So that takes up time and brain space.

But Burning Wheel has some really severe flaws: ambiguous game set up, Wises, janky Artha rewards, Instincts, and “optional” rules that aren’t actually optional.  As usual, I'm going to handle the concerns, It's my blog, cry about it in the comments!

"Optional" Rules

The Duel of Wits, Fight!, and Range and Cover are some of the most innovative mechanics ever devised. It's best to describe these mechanics are rock/paper/scissors/Spock/GUN on steroids: players pick out a number of actions (usually three) privately, and then reveal them, one at a time, and compare to everyone else in the conflict. There's this huge and beautiful chart that honestly makes my pupils engorge and all sorts of other unseemly things happen.

But.

People do not use these mechanics, by and large. Usually they're having to use them against the GM. Put a pin in this, we're getting back to it. 

The real issue is that Burning Wheel is designed to use these "optional" rules, and if you don't use them... your Artha piles up, and then you get Artha bloat. This is a very common problem with Burning Wheel. And without the extended conflict mechanics, this problem goes from occasional to "Dear God I have way too much Artha", and the reward loop of the game, the thing it does so well, dies.

Instincts

Instincts were covered above. The problem is that the design of the game makes it difficult to actually challenge Instincts. You're essentially begging the GM to hit you with specific situations... except the GM has to focus on two other Instincts and three Beliefs... and that's just for one player. Given how flexible and rich the Beliefs are, Instincts have a bad habit of going to the wayside (there's a reason why Crescendo drops them).

Janky Artha Rewards

Burning Wheel's initial design was for immediate Artha rewards when you act upon your BITs. Up until Revised, this created a dynamic conversation. If you have too much Artha, the GM can ignore you, because you're in a real conversation with the participants at the table. Burning Wheel Gold changed this reward to waiting until the end of the session to hand out Artha. This makes the flow of the game work better, because the GM can't be the sole architect of the bullshit coming at players and watching Artha rewards.  You can't do both, trust me, not long term.

Wises

Wises are skills that a player can roll to force a fact into the fiction. This is great in theory, but it collapses the setting into a Schroedinger's Setting, making it difficult for players to rely upon the setting, and potentially making the GM skittish about introducing facts.

Ambiguous Game Set Up

This is the big one. There is no real game set up. No, there isn't, don't leave your comment. The GM has no guidance on how to set up the fictional situation that will spark the players into making Beliefs.

And this brillitant game  is missing one sentence, that would change everything:

Players can always challenge each other better than any GM.

And it is possible to engineer this.

Enter Boot Hill

 

On an initial look, the 2nd edition of Boot Hill should not be in this conversation. It's a d percentile game. Burning Wheel is a d6 dice pool.

But you know what it does say you should do?

Have the GM design the opening situation. Have the players issue orders, week to week And then forbid sessions of play when the players aren't directly in conflict. 

These simple rules completely redefine Burning Wheel Revised. Suddenly, players are unable to play unless they go after each other... and if the GM wrote a tight initial situation, where the characters he made up are in direct conflict, the players merely have to show up. 

And the thing is that the Burning Wheel Revised has a metric ton of pre-gen'd characters! The GM barely has to do any work! He just grabs some pregens from the books and writes some BITs. He then winds up, lets go, and then spends his sessions principally rewarding loud and proud behavior as it starts conflict. Sure, the GM is going to sometimes need to present some challenges aside from whatever the players are doing. But that won't be the focus.

Those optional mechanics? I notice that players like using them against each other, not the GM. This is because the power differential is too great to use such a mechanic with a GM. With other players? Man, it's like crack.

And if the GM doesn't want to go pregen, but kitbash? Burning Wheel Revised provides the best tools to do it out of all the Burning Wheel versions. The Monster and Magic Burners may be expensive, but Crane really breaks the math down, and provides actual tools that I can personally vouch for. You can very easily draw up a bunch of stuff with confidence.

Conclusion

The truth is, Burning Wheel Revised is a masterpiece hidden inside a game that sometimes fights against itself. Its core loop—aggressive Beliefs, immediate Artha, and those glorious, baroque conflict systems—is one of the best things roleplaying has ever produced. But the ambiguous setup, the optional-but-not-really rules, and the tendency for everything to collapse into GM-vs-players slog have kept it from reaching its full potential for too many groups.

The fix is simpler than we think: steal from Boot Hill.

Let the GM craft one sharp opening situation loaded with conflicting interests. Hand out pregenerated characters with pre-written (or quickly customized) BITs that put the players at each other's throats from minute one. Then declare: No session happens unless the players are directly pursuing conflicting goals. The GM's job shifts from "invent endless opposition" to "facilitate, adjudicate, and reward the glorious chaos that erupts."

Suddenly the Duel of Wits and Fight! stop being scary optional modules and become the main event. Artha flows naturally from real stakes. Instincts matter because other players will exploit them. The table becomes a arena of raw aggression—the very thing Burning Wheel always promised.

I haven't seriously played Burning Wheel in five years. But reading this back, I realize I'm not done with it. I'm just done with the default way people run it.

If you're a BW fan who's been frustrated, try the Boot Hill Setup. Run it hard and mean. You might rediscover why this game, at its best, has no equal.

And if it still doesn't click? Well… that's why I'm building Crescendo.

But trust me, I will always play both.

The Seraph Omega Rangers: Session 1

 

"RISE"

So Today

I was... informed... that I was going to run a Power Rangers RPG campaign. I warned my young players that I was gonna run Power Rangers the way I wanted to, and they’d have to deal with it. They agreed. They’d already made characters: a Jackson, green ranger with a lance, and Janet, a pink ranger with a bow.

No, I did not smile at their names. They wouldn't have gotten it. But don't think I didn't chuckle.

I have had the core rulebook sitting around for a few years and they just picked it up and presented me with completed character 24 hours later. Turns out, sometimes you just have people who are ready to go.

Why Did I Warn Them?

To me, the best Power Rangers episodes were always about desperation. My blood was always pumping for that show when the stakes were so absurd that the Rangers' powers made the odds better... to just being outmatched. Green With Evil and the Psycho Rangers are fantastic examples of what I'm talking about: the Ranger powers do not actually bridge the gap, but merely make it possible for the Rangers to win by their wits and courage.

So, to hilariously overstate: Power Rangers it the kid's equivalent of Conan or Solomon Kane: eldritch horrors, kickass action, and gumption, in a bubblegum sci-fantasy wrapper.

So What Happened?

It actually went really well! I had to do a quick crashcourse, but once I'd done that, I was feeling pretty confident I could avoid borking the game.

The Crash Course

I sat down and listened to Milestone Play's excellent crash course. I didn't have the time to go through the whole thing, but I skipped around his well put-together video, and learned very quickly that I needed to have the combat and rules marked. I explained to my players that I was going to run straight out of the book, and that it would take me a minute to sometimes figure out what the rules wanted me to do. The Power Rangers RPG actually has a ton of depth to it, and I didn't want to sacrifice that depth for "fun" and "speed". I explained to my young players that rules are meant to be followed, if possible, and that taking the time to learn them was worth the effort. So we were going to ruin a tutorial session of sorts, just with foot soldiers. 

The Black/Phoneout

So we had Jackson and Janet at a park with some other people, just hanging out. They weren't Power Rangers, but just highschool students were older souls. 

Suddenly all phones lost their networks, and the streetlights, which had just turned on in the gathering twilight, went out. Janet made a stupidly high Technology roll, and Jackson made an even higher Science roll. From these rolls, I gave them the following information.

1. All cell phones, regardless of carrier, were out. This meant a pretty big infrastructural outage. The fact that everyone was experiencing it meant that everyone for about a hundred square miles was isolated from the greater world.
2. The power going out at the same meant that yet another big piece of infrastructure was down.
3. An EMP blast would have been big and ugly and extremely noticeable. Nothing big and ugly and extremely noticeable happened.

Jackson and Janet realized that either a bunch of somethings went wrong at once, by accident, or there was something purposeful going on. They stood there a moment, filled with dread, as they watched everyone else in the park just figure out that multiple carriers were down.

And then there was a horrible grinding sound

Like a bunch of concrete being dug up... all around them. And these vulture-like... things.. dug came up. Made of the red soil all around them. They immediately threw themselves at the nearest humans, and began to eat them... and flesh and hair began to sprout from the monsters' bodies... forming wings. Everyone else ran, screaming.

But not Jackson and Janet. When they asked me what should be done, I simply asked: "Do you want to die well, or do you want to die poorly?" After a second, they realized what I was saying: there were too many monsters, they were too powerful, and they were too fast. It was either go down screaming or go down fighting. Pick one.

They ran straight at the things. 

There was a nearby pond, and they each threw an earthen monster into it. The monsters struggled, getting weighed down by the water. Jackson and Janet ran at another two monsters, and knocked them off the people they were savaging. Others started helping. Jackson found a metal bat nearby and literally pulverized one of the monsters in a few quick blows.

And then two of the monsters jumped on him, and one got a big bite out of him, almost killing him instantly. Once again, the players asked me what should be done, and I asked the same question: "Do you want to die well? Or do you want to die badly?" They nodded. "Let's die well."

Janet charged one of the monsters on Jackson and tackled it to the ground.  The other people tried drag the remaining monster on Jackson off, but couldn't. So Jackson choked up on the bat, and pushed the monster over, and pulverized its head through close hits with the bat.

They both got up, to see the other people were fighting back. They weren't cowering in fear anymore! They had an example of resistance, and were following! Of the original seven, four were dead.

Grind. Grind. Grind.

And now they were back up to a dozen. Jackson and Janet looked at me, overwhelmed. This wasn't going to work! How could they win without powers? They'd literally built a tank/sniper duo, and I'd said they couldn't use their powers, because they didn't even have them yet! What on earth could be done but die?

I asked the question, one more time: "Do you want to die well? Or poorly?" They both took a second, and looked at each other. Both of these players have extremely strong affective imaginations. They were there. They could hear the screams of panic, they both had flinched when Jackson had gotten bit. They didn't get mad at me for saying "No powers, yet." They were just trying to understand what the fuck they should be doing.

"Let's die well. We're going down swinging," they both said.

"What if I told you that that question about dying well or poorly was a question your characters heard, in their heads?" I asked. Everytime I had asked the question, I had no clarified whether or not it was in-game or out of game. This one little clarification turned on the lightbulb. Suddenly they understood they were being tested.

"Now, shout 'RISE'," commanded the voice. Neither knew the other heard it.

But they did. And they shouted.

Suddenly they were in full Ranger form. Six fiery wings (Yes I know the stupid AI put on four). Jackson's bat had transformed into a lance. Janet held a bow. Fire radiated from them, and halos of fire floated above their heads. The park, which was getting dark, was suddenly illuminated by the green and pink flames.

And the dozen monsters were running, in surprise. So were the people! They thought something worse had showed up!

Jackson and Janet went and looked into the pond. They saw their new fiery forms staring at them. And then suddenly they were normal. The dark was closing in. So they went back to their houses... to find nobody had power. Or cell phones. Still.

And there were things circling in the sky. Things with wings.

The Fall of the King of Sota: Chapter One

 

So we got a limitation on these session reports: the players are still in real-time, plotting against each other, so I'm going to have be general. I will record my findings as non-spoilery as I can, even at the cost of "trust me bro". Someone wants further records, I can climb through my Discord DMs.

Ransu 21-27

So this was the first week where people started sending me orders. This was amazing to watch. More than half the players had moments where they went "Wait I can really do this?" and I simply said "Yes, and here's how long it takes for you to do so". There were multiple light bulb moments where players went "Oh wait I really do have total autonomy here". 

It was a very strange moment. I have prided myself on player choice for years. Years. You can go through all the campaigns I have posted on this blog. They're all more or less "self-directed" campaigns with players. But... just handing them 1:1 time and making PVP inherently freed the players, and they've been having a blast.

So what did they do? So far? Well, we got Laurentius trying to cause an overthrow of the Church of Elpida with his own "proper" version, and all the aristocrats he's pissing off there. Of the ten people involved, he's dragged about half of them into his decision to publicly decry the Church and the nobility as robbers.

And then we got about the other half of the group, who decided that Cleft Mountain (which is definitely haunted) is the place to go to! Whether it be Montsers who want a lair, or Heroes who want to go climbing for lost lore in the middle of a total meltdown... yeah. They just decided to do a dungeon delve. Time to pull out Appendix A, or Veins of the Earth!

And I Shouldn't Have Been Surprised By This

It is a known fact that killing people must be systemically enforced in the military. If there aren't officers right behind you, telling you to kill the enemy, right now, we know for a fact that people are highly unlikely to do it. We've recreated battles. We know that people kill a lot less than we think, because in those recreations that amount of deaths that happen are way higher than the actual death records we have. People talk a big game, but when it comes down to it... even with training, we don't want to enter into conflict and kill.

And yet conflict drives games. It is what makes them fun: conflict without the horrifying consequences of real life. This is literally why game rules exist, I am starting to suspect.  Because, once the players were put in a situation where the rules pushed them into conflict, and the Weaver assured them it was okay to do so... people started going off the rails, especially the Monster players.

Chapter One

And Then Chapter One happened. And holy shit. Everything that was built up, on that Discord server, suddenly exploded.

Laurentius just went apeshit... and was rewarded for it.

Mother Elise tried to keep the peace... and accidentally burned Lady Marie.

Lady Marie walked in with the best of intentions, and bungled things so hilariously badly that it was practically the highlight of the session... until Laurentinus set an old woman on fire to prove a point.

 

The previous issues with 1:1 time I was having went right out the window, as soon as PVP was baked into Crescendo's system. This is absolutely addictive. I want more. I need more.

I DON'T WANT TO QUIT.

Story Might Be Bigger than Scripts, Bacon

The Dude Knows His Stuff... That's Part of the Problem

I have a pet peeve: when experts forget that their expertise comes at a cost. Bacon is, in comparison to me, clearly the expert in his domain. I’ve written some solid TV scripts. He has actually launched projects — a meaningful gap in experience. That said, I’m not disputing the internal logic of his argument. His conclusions follow reasonably from his assumptions. It’s those assumptions I want to challenge. Bacon gives an excellent breakdown of how story functions under singular authorial vision — the kind required by most novels, films, and many scripted games. That part is strong. The problems arise elsewhere.

What Is a Roleplaying Game?

The medium of TTRPGs

This needs to be established, apparently, because right here is where we'll find the error. TTRPGs have a vital difference from all other games, and if it is not addressed here, the rest of my article will make no sense. I am going to use the words Participants to refer to everyone at the table, GM to refer to Game Master (GM), and Player to refer to players.

I am aware, deeply, that non-GM'd games exist. I'm not using that paradigm at the moment, and I am very aware of the limitation. The point may be better to make without a GM, but I don't have enough experience to comment terribly well. I am also aware that I am generalizing. If you try saying "Yeah but this game", you will not be addressing my general point.

The General Flow of an RPG

A fictional setting and a game is agreed upon by the Participants.

The GM decides upon a situation to present the Players.

The Players decide how to respond to the situation, and inform the GM of their decisions.

The Participants, to varying degrees, decide what happens, using the setting and the game to generate prompts they interpret.

This creates a new situation, which the Players must address.

Yeah But (Generative Procedures)-

I know, I know, I really over-generalized. I'm trying to capture a very wide swath of design (although it's not nearly as wide as you think). The biggest thing left out of this is the use of procedures to generate prompts.

And this is where the video actually falls apart, right off the bat, right in the definitions.  The above flow is exhausting to maintain for most Participants... so we generate prompts using game mechanics. Like, for instance, OSR random tables, or PBTA moves, or even spending a currency (like in Amber) or class features. These are meant to provide fuel for the imaginations of the Participants. More to the point, these prompts are part of the base DNA of an RPG. You are playing with these prompts, because they are toys.

These prompts are then interpreted into a fictional event. Even if you're using something sub-par like a previously existing adventure to tell you what will happen next, you still need to interpret those events into what's going on at the table's conversation.

The essential action of a roleplaying game is the interpretation of mechanically generated prompts into a previously existing fictional situation.

And that creates a story.

Story Does Not Require Singular Authorial Intent

The oldest and most culturally potent stories we have — folk tales, myths, The Iliad, and The Odyssey — were profoundly collaborative. As Jonathan Shay showed in Achilles in Vietnam, the Iliad served as communal therapy for the trauma of war. These works were not drafted whole-cloth by a solitary genius; they emerged from a living tradition, shaped by many hands and voices over time, then later refined. Most pre-modern storytelling existed on a continuum — performed, adapted, edited by audiences and subsequent tellers. Explicit collaboration is the historical norm. Novels and movies, by contrast, are historically atypical: powerful, technologically enabled concentrations of vision, but not the default against which everything else should be judged.

TTRPGs are not a strange offshoot. They are a gamified, accelerated evolution of that ancient collaborative tradition. Procedural generation is innovative, but it is still building on the norm rather than inventing something alien to it.

On Video Games and False Comparisons

Comparisons between video games and TTRPGs often miss the mark. Video games — even procedurally rich ones like Minecraft, Breath of the Wild, or Dark Souls — are still authored experiences with bounded possibility spaces. They can borrow TTRPG-inspired techniques, but they remain fundamentally different in intent and openness. A medieval labyrinth and a spell are both magical in their own way, yet one is designed and the other is emergent.

But TTRPGs Have Design Intent!

Of course they do. Like spells or procedures, RPG rules and settings plant seeds with intent. A love potion might make someone fall in love — but with whom, and to what end? Joy or misery? The designer/GM sets the frame and possibility space; the table discovers what actually grows. The intent is story — not in the narrow scriptwriter sense, but in the broader human sense of shared meaning-making.

I agree that many storygames have deep flaws in execution. Still, a design that consciously pursues theme and emergence is doing something more aligned with storytelling’s deeper roots than pure blank-slate improvisation.

Ultimately,

Bacon isn’t wrong about how "traditionally authored" stories work. He is simply mistaking a historically recent, technologically enabled specialization for the universal essence of storytelling. The novel and the film are powerful because they concentrate vision. TTRPGs are powerful because they distribute it. Both have their place. Both can produce something transcendent. The tragedy is when fans of one feel the need to diminish the other to validate their preference. 

Story doesn’t belong to the solitary genius in front of a keyboard any more than it belongs exclusively to the table of friends rolling dice. It has always been, and will always be, something humans do together — sometimes with one person holding the torch steady, sometimes passing it hand to hand in the dark… or rolling dice to see who carries it next.

The real question isn’t “Which medium does story better?” It’s “What kind of story are we trying to tell, and which tools best serve it?” Everything else is just territorial noise.

Bacon understands a torch. I just wish he’d remember how many hands — and how much chance — have carried the flame before him.

The Fall of the King of Sota: Prologue 2

The Fall of the King of Sota: Prologue 1

Atop the Flowering Garbage Heap

 

Welcome back! Today, we talk about the total exhaustion of finding out there's yet more trauma to recover from.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is when the mind encounters something it can't make sense of, and it squirrels away a part itself that can't make sense of it, for protection. This part, this sub-personality, is then kept going through an unconscious but purposeful and constant expenditure of mental energy. This locked away sub-personality (now hitherto "Sub") is not a separate personality, although the Main and Sub's knowledge of each other is generally hazy.

Complex Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD) is when the mind encounters multiple somethings that it can't make sense of. The line between Subs and completely different personalities begins to blur, because the mental energy to keep the breaks up is much greater. Most of the time, the Subs take turns “helping” the surface personality, and sometimes take over. It is a wretched life.

Personality Disorder (PD) is when the mind encounters something so awful that it makes a completely different personality, only about that one thing, and then forgets about it. The two personalities then attempt to live independently of each other. It goes as well as expected.

The line between C-PTSD and PD is a lot hazier than you would think. At what point is keeping the Subs in tension harder than just allowing them to drift?

I am pretty squarely in that gray area. I have a laundry list of awful things that go as long as my arm. Literally. The individual counts are so high that it's actually disgusting. And I keep finding large parts of me that are so thoroughly buried that it's a marvel I find anything at all.

But there's sometimes I look at myself, and realize the wreckage.

Miles and miles of what was once a real, working, actual personality.

Not the fundamentally broken and held together by duct-tape... thing... that I run around in like it's a stolen car. It is hard, in those moments, to not fall into despair. You just... you see the damage. Years of mistreatment, codified and ratified and stratified into a mockery of stability.

The words "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me," stick in my throat.

There is nothing here, in this wreckage, that I would attribute to a good and kind and loving God. It's just... what's left. Chaotic rubble. There's nothing that I could imagine the Son of God recognizing as his own. "Mercy"? That word makes the ash in the air sweet. And don't even get me started on asking for anyone to have mercy on me.

For those of you who say God's mercy is boundless.. He will only take mercy on what you let Him. And I can't. I just can't. It's far beyond my abilities as a person. This broken misshapen husk of a personality is a mockery of God's goodness. I want it to burn. And yet, that is despair, the realization that I have judged what God has not.

But what am I supposed to do, in the midst of this? I have a conscience, do I not? Did not God make me to labor in the vineyard? And is this not a ruined vineyard? Aren't we supposed to clear away the chaff for the fire?

And trust me, I am that chaff. Do not doubt it.

It hits me just how fucked I really am.

What is there to do but sit and curse the day I was born? To beg God to strike my birthday from the calendar? To ask the sun to hide her face from that day, so that even if humanity isn't stupid enough to remove it from the calendar, they don't have to witness the sheer absurdity of my birth?

What else is there to do but sit? And ask God why He even bothered?

So, I look down. I don't ask for mercy. I can't bear to. It's too much.

And then I see it.

A hyacinth.

And I curse Wolfe, loudly, because I can never forget this line from Book of the Short Sun. It's burned into me, like a brand. I have literally had dreams of Wolfe burning it into me, and I flinch thinking about it. But friends are kind torturers. And Wolfe may be the best friend I never met.

"Though trodden beneath the shepherd's heel, the wild hyacinth blooms on the ground." 

And it's coming out from between the garbage piles. Unasked for, unlooked for, unwanted, trodden, cursed by me... but growing all the same. With absolutely no regard for my pride.

I look up. I see an entire field of hyacinths. They're popping up between the cracks, but they're there. Mercy is coming, whether I want it or not. I feel, once again, Wolfe's chuckle from the dream I had, years ago: "You're a coward". I can't help but agree with him.

But the hyacinths are there.

So, weary, I get back up. I sway with the wind a moment.

And start clearing away the wreckage.

For the hyacinths.

Wherever you are, Wolfe, fuck yourself. I'm tired. How dare you find me worth saving. 

Fine. I'll see you at the Gate. 

Properly.

Asshole.

A wind not of my making blows. The hyacinths dance. I stop and stare. My heart does something against its will. I stare, for a long time, at the colors moving through the wreckage. But they can't move quite perfectly. Some of them don't move. Not yet.

Someone really needs to move the wreckage. Maybe that someone is me. We'll see. I get to work.

So I was going to end it there, Defender. I was pretty happy with that post. 

And then a friend of mine sent me a book!

Very nice of him! Thank you!

As I was reading it, I found the following passage:

“Your heart is full of fertile seeds, waiting to sprout. Just as a lotus flower springs from the mire to bloom splen-didly, the interaction of the cosmic breath causes the flower of the spirit to bloom and bear fruit in this world.”

It is here that I leave you. If I do not see you next week, I do not blame you. It is no easy road.

The Real Problem of Storygaming

 

So I've been on Twitter for awhile now.

No, come back, trust me, this is going somewhere.

I got involved in the RPG space on Twitter immediately. It's been a lot of fun, and I've actually learned a lot about design. A lot of people, it turns out, are grappling with the same issues I've been seeing. I don't agree with them 100% of the time, but it actually feels like something closer to a conversation than what I would have had before Twitter. Now, by and large, the folks on Twitter are right-wingers who like oldschool gaming. I am a storygamer with some rather deep-seated feelings of resentment against storygaming, so I engaged in some conversations and boy did some stuff get cleared up.

I define storygaming as:

Playing a game that makes a story. As in, by playing the game, a coherent narrative emerges, which the players can derive actual aesthetic enjoyment from as its own object, both in real-time and post-game.

Storygaming can be a roleplaying game (as in, there's people who are strictly playing a limited role), or in a more meta way (which I'm going to define as a storytelling-game). This is similar to how you can have a wargame proper, or a wargame that is a roleplaying game as well (see ODnD).

Storygaming solves a problem that old-schoolers don't want to acknowledge: NOT ALL OF US WANT TO PLAY DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS, SORRY NOT SORRY.

The problem isn't that storygaming exists. That's like blaming wargaming for roleplaying games's problems. Which is absolutely absurd. The problem is far more fundamental.

The central problem of most storygames is that it assumes that simply telling a story is extremely comfortable for adults, who are the majority audience for games. Without an infrastructure to attach to, what should be a very intuitive experience gets awkward, forcing one person to step up and help guide everyone through a process they don't even really know how to do anymore.

Yes, to the storygamers who are currently protesting, I am talking about the average person.

"bUt StoRyTElLinG iS NaTUraL"

Yes, it is, but not in the context of a collaborative game. Most people tell stories to others, and don't consciously collaborate. Most games give events that people craft a narrative with afterwards. Storygaming itself promises a story that you can make, and recognize, in process. 

That's so fucking cool.

It's also the farthest thing from "natural" in the world. It's a really  cool thing to do, but let's not pretend that collaborative storytelling outside of a liturgical or party context is natural.

How Do We Make This More Natural?

There's four ways to address this: more focused rules for narration, mechanical support, ritual, and increased objectivity, without sacrificing thematic depth.

Narration Rules

It all begins here. Narration in most storygames is hand-waved. "Just say what you want to do!" There are two people I know of who, upon hearing that for the first time, did not have a low-grade panic attack. It's not that narration as the core mechanic of your game is a bad idea, per se, but if it's literally just "Well, say whatever"... most adults I know lock up, at least at first. The sheer amount of choice available isn't freeing, it's paralyzing. Adults are so used to not having that many choices that handing them the whole freaking buffet line does more harm than good.

So you use rules to help focus them. Not railroad, and certainly not restrict. Focus.

A good example is my own RPG, Crescendo: your actions have to fit the Setting's Myth and your character's Heart, according to the Weaver (GM). There are standards, some of which you wrote yourself, which you can measure your actions against as you're playing. Everyone has agreed on the Myth, and the Weaver accepted your Heart when you wrote it. Since this is all based on commonly agreed tropes and personally chosen stuff, it's easy to know how successful the outcomes of your decisions will be... and whether you even care. Sometimes players will deliberately fail, because their Heart runs up against the Myth, and they let it be messy and find it fun, because it addresses what they expected in the first place.

Mechanical Support

This is the one that most storygames do a decent, even an excellent job, at. PBTA particularly, with its reactionary Moves, pushes the story in different ways, although it's easy for it to fall into a railroad. Burning Wheel's Beliefs and Artha cycle takes the conversation that is a storygame and elevates it into a complex and emotional story. Bleak Spirit's scene structure and prompts helps push the conversation into places that are easy to run with. Mechanics reacting to narration really is an amazing kick of dopamine!

Ritual

Storygames are okay at this one, by and large, but this is where certain actions are mandated, like beginning and ending session mechanics. These help get everyone into and out of trance more easily, and that cannot be underestimated. Adults have to be coaxed, wooed, into letting go and just enjoying themselves.

Increased Objectivity

This is possibly the biggest actual offender in the storygaming world.  The setting goes from being a real place that may have unexpected edges (lots of them!), to... just be fully at the behest of the players. This is honestly the most damaging thing in storygaming as a genre. If the world is to be fully shaped by player fiat, then the simulation fails one of the fundamental tests of whether it's reality or not: being told "No". This is obviously not true in all storygames, but there's plenty of them where the setting is not a real place, which can push back and tell players "No, you will have to contend with me." This is one of the things the OSR does completely right, just about all the time.

The Good News?

We don’t have to pick sides. Storygaming doesn’t need to abandon its ambitions—it just needs better scaffolding so that normal adults can actually enjoy the thing it promises. We can keep the dream of collaboratively crafting a real story at the table while giving players the structure, ritual, pushback, and mechanical teeth that make it feel exciting instead of paralyzing.
That’s exactly what I’ve been chasing with Crescendo. The Myth and Heart system gives players clear boundaries to play against (and sometimes against each other). The Weaver isn’t a dictator, but they’re also not a vending machine. The world has weight. Failure can be beautiful. And when it works, the story that emerges feels earned—not because we forced it, but because we had enough infrastructure to let it breathe.
The RPG space on Twitter (and beyond) is full of people who love this hobby for very different reasons. Some want the thrill of exploration and danger. Others want something that feels like a story worth telling afterward. Both are valid. The real failure would be pretending these desires can’t learn from each other.
So here’s my pitch: stop treating “storygame” and “OSR” as rival faiths. Start stealing the best ideas from both sides without apology. Give narration focus. Build mechanical engines that reward good play. Add ritual that helps everyone get in the zone. And for the love of all that’s holy, let the world say “no” sometimes.
The result might not be pure storygaming or pure old-school. It’ll probably be something new, a little messy, and a lot more fun.