The Lancelot Problem, Reforged

 

 “In summary, modernity replaces process with result and the relational with the transactional."

— Nassim Taleb, The Bed of Procrustes

Why does Lancelot fade?

I've posed this question to many people over the years—a quiet riddle from an old story that never fails to unsettle me. Most reach for complicated explanations. So far, three saw the heart of it clearly. Another came agonizingly close, with a confession that still echoes: "I don’t want to feel."

Logres once burned bright. Knights in glory. Wrongs were righted. While Arthur kept Logres, his knights kept Logres a place worth fighting for. Arthur fought and fought and fought. Nobody else could have done what he did.

Then the unraveling. People forget that Arthur slept with not one, but both half-sisters, and gat children on both of them. People seem to forget that your strengths are your weaknesses. Arthur was the fighting man. He was able to keep up a level of conflict in the service of peace that can hardly be imagined. But that has its costs. Arthur didn't sleep with Morgause and Morgan because lust was a problem, but because the same strength that let him keep Logres safe was out of balance. It's just that Mordred's the one that decided to burn it all down.

Lancelot failing with Guinevere isn't what brought Camelot down. It was going down anyway. Whether it was Mordred who brought it down or the consequences therefrom, Arthur's fire burned too bright. He was going to bring Logres down because of who he was. But Lancelot sleeping with Guinevere and then killing Gaheris and Gareth certainly looks bad, doesn't it? Lancelot going to France really doesn't help, either.

But then Gawain forgives him from his deathbed and begs for his help. The mightiest knight is needed, one last time. And Lancelot doesn't disappoint. He rises. Brings up an army from the ashes. He races.

And races. 

And races.

Too late.

The field... hushed. Bodies cold under a gray sky. 

Arthur. Gone.

Gawain. Gone.

Excalibur vanished into mist.

The mightiest knight stands alone, amid the ruin he helped forge. 

Silence.

He withdraws to

cold stone and thin prayers. Fasting until the body echoes the emptiness within. He watches as flames devour the last of the dream. Screams fade to wind. A dark age creeps in. But there's no blade lifted. No banner or roar against the night.

Just... retreat. He collapses at the tomb, wasting away actively, falling apart in a process that is incomprehensible to us.

Why? That's my question for you, the reader. Why did Lancelot, the mightiest knight, fade? And why do we refuse to undstand?

Guesses could come, like crows to carrion. I know I wondered about it a long time. Let's try going through some of them, shall we?

Can't be cold penance. Guilt had clawed him before—never quenched the fire and it hadn't shattered his faith.

It wasn't because it was too hard. Trials had scorched him and Lancelot had charged through outcomes foretold a long time ago.

It absolutely couldn't be fear. Defeat was an old shadow at his side.

These are shields. Words we clutch. Word I clutched, and still try to go back to, still. Dogs and vomit.

But in the ancient tales, not every fall is fought. Sometimes a flame gutters, without wind or cry. The blaze that once consumed worlds... extinguishes. Unseen, unresisted, unmarked, leaving only ash. A hollow where a primeval roar once lived.

Gilgamesh howls into void.

Achilles turns his back in thunder.

Gawain takes the green sash and still flinches.

Lancelot... drifts into a quiet gray.

We crave endings where heroes avenge, rebuild, defy the dark, arise from graves. But here, the mightiest... simply dims. We cannot hold easily it because to hold the situation is to feel the snuffing. That quiet, merciless crushing. The spark goes out, and the sword has to drop, because it requires the spark to keep the sword in the air, with it.

That one confession

“I don’t want to feel.”

really sticks with me. It's been awhile, but it burns through me. That confession

"I don't want to feel."

breaks into my normal thoughts, a lot more than I am comfortable with admitting, so here it is on a blog, for everyone to see.  The problem is that every time 

"I don't want to feel."

break through into my fucking skull, I am reminded that, even though I know the answer to this problem, that isn't enough. Knowing that

"I don't want to feel." 

 doesn't make me capable of facing the truth reliably. This isn't a solution, an end to the journey, but the start of a brand new one. One where I don't know the end of.

 If modernity demands a transaction—a penance paid for a sin cleared—then Lancelot’s silence is an insult to the modern mind. But in the gray light of that monastery, there was no transaction. There was only the process of existing in the ruins. I spent years looking for a riddle to solve Lancelot, only to realize I was looking for a shield to protect myself. 

"I don't want to feel."

isn’t just a key to an old story; it’s a white flag. It's a surrender to the truth without having to look at it. And that's... just... maybe the mightiest knight didn't merely fade. Maybe he just stopped lying to himself, the consequences be damned. We want Lancelot to roar against the night because if he can’t survive the feeling of total loss, what hope is there for us? 

But the tales aren't there to give us "hope"; they are there to give us company. 

Do you want it?

The Dragon's Fire: Passouan 7

The Prompt

Mild day. The rain from yesterday had spoiled several dozen barrels of preserved food. Nothing directly dangerous, but it is a concern.

Kuri- Raphael

The day dares to call itself mild, but I know better. Yesterday’s rain crept in like a thief, rotting several dozen barrels of preserved food—no blade drawn, no blood spilled, yet the damage is done. It isn’t a crisis… not yet. But shortages are the kind of rot that spreads quietly, testing resolve long before hunger sharpens its teeth.

I’ve seen worse omens begin with less. We endure, we adapt, and when the next trial comes, it will find us leaner, angrier, and very much alive.

Heranyt Playtest and The Dragon's Fire - Passouan 4 , 5 and 6

I like reading setting books. I like having a coherent set of vibes that I can just lean into on evenings where I don't feel like reading something more "substantial". Just soak in the vibes.

I hate using setting books while running games. I hate it because there's either too much lore or not enough, and it's impossible to just use the lore immediately. I don't know anyone who personally used a setting book as it was "intended", and the only people I know of who sorta did were using 4e DnD books, which have a lot of crunch in them: using the setting book changed the game itself, so they used the book.

So I decided I wanted to actually make a setting book that could be used, as-is, in a game of Crescendo... which meant that Crescendo needed to be done. And it is. We're getting the text firmed up, which is why it's in Ashcan, but the game's mechanics are done.

So I decided I wanted to make a setting book. Which meant actually making something I would use at the table. This time I decided to try and document what I'm doing in a somewhat public fashion. For funsies.

What I Look for in Designing a Game

The simplest measurement I have for when I design a game or game supplement is that it gives back much more than you put into it. My time is valuable. If the process for playing a game doesn't yield something that's obviously going to be worth my time, I don't want to design it. Or play it.

Now Hold Up

That doesn't mean that the game doesn't take skill or time to master. Or even that the game is easy. I make hard games. Crescendo is a very difficult game to master. The initial entry is quiet low, but once you realize what the game is doing... it takes a long time to produce truly epic results. But the process is extremely rewarding while you do it. It's a process that's fun and challenging.

The Heranyt Setting

So, why my homegrown setting? Simply put, I know it. I have played in it for a long time, and feel comfortable with how much lore should be put in, and what I use. Also, this may come as a surprise to some, but I make my games and stuff so I can use them. For my own amusement. So if I am going to make a setting, it's a setting I am going to use. For me. And that means Heranyt, if I'm going science-fantasy.

Playtesting

Now, the big thing that I insist upon is that setting books fundamentally change how the game is played. It's not merely a skin, it's a different way to play that system. I have absolutely no want or need to make a setting that doens't fundamentally change things.. but I couldn't think of anything. I knew things were missing from the Crescendo experience, but then suddenly-

1:1 Time (It's John McGowan's Fault)

 

- I freaking read "The Living Campaign", by John McGowan, a nice guy who decided to write about how 1:1 time could be useful. For those of you who don't know, 1:1 is an older concept in Dungeons and Dragons, which says that game time is tied to real-world time. Sessions of play are more or less when you check back in with your characters and do something dramatic. 

Something about this setup clicked with me. Wolfe stories weren't quite this formula, but the idea behind all Wolfe stories are that there's something huge going on the background, and it is "the plot". The story is about what happens to the characters when the plot hits them... and then leaves. 

So 1:1 time wouldn't look like in Crescendo what it would in DnD, and that's fine.

The Procedure

Heranyt has some light gameplay astrology to it: the seven planets hang in the sky, and they affect things. 

How Does the Situation Progress?

I would roll a d20 for the scale of the event that day:

1: The situation is totally screwed. Downfall.

2-8: The situation gets worse.

9-14: The situation doesn't get worse.

15-19: The situation slightly improves.

20: The situation improves dramatically.

The Initial Situation

I made a calendar that told me when the principle planet was ascendant (doing good stuff) or descendent (doing bad stuff). For weather, I know that the general location we're at is actually decently similar to my own, so I just check the weather for the day at my house.

How Does the Situation Progress?

I would then check to see if Eous the Evil Moon was ascendant (screwing up the initial bad situation) or descendent (making the situation better). 

The Resolution

I would reference a random line from my journal, to see how it all ended up.

How This Looks So Far

So, here's what we got so far. I s tarted on January 4th, which on my calendar is the 4th of Passouan. It's technically winter, but the locale's in the more southerly climes, relatively close to a gulf. So it's actually decently warm. Here's how the plot's progressed at Sota City, where an uneasy alliance of men and elves keep back the eternal tides of undead attack.

4th of Passouan

Two days from now is The Drowning of Telos, when he was said to have met Elpida, the Flame Eternal. 

Unfortunately,  on this warm and temperate day  General Juhani, a popular elven leader, dies protecting his elven guard from a surprise attack led by the dragon and The Bride. Morale is very low amongst the elves. There wasn't even a body left.

Kuri

So, Kuri responded with two accounts: a historical account and one from the standpoint of her character, Raphael. I didn't anticipate this. I was overjoyed. Both were okayed, given that Raphael's survived run-ins with actual gods before.

Account of the Witness 

On that same day, the one who would later be named in the Wars to Come stood among the elven host, sworn neither to command nor retreat. They felt the turning of fate before the dragon was seen, and raised warning even as shadow fell upon the terraces.

When the attack came, they fought to hold the line beside Juhani’s guard, drawing steel and spell alike. They survived the firestorm only by chance—or by design unknown—cast to the stone as the General made his final stand.

When silence returned, it was they who first rose, and it was their voice that called the living together amid the ruin.

For this reason, the chronicles name them not as a savior, but as the Last Witness of Juhani, from whom the true account of the Fourth of Passouan is known. This what I have written or in historical addendum brain today I can change it up if need be.

Raphael

I stood among the guard when the air turned wrong, warm as a forge without flame. Two days remained before the Drowning of Telos.

The dragon came with the Bride. General Juhani placed himself before us and was unmade. No body remained—only scorched stone.

I fell in the fire.

I did not burn.

When the dragon withdrew, I alone rose where I had fallen. The host was broken, and mourning was decreed.

Fifth of Passouan

Kuri- Raphael

The day before the Drowning, on this day, a hundred of the elves sailed to the stars, hearts shattered by the death of Geneal Juhani. Defenses against the horde are worse than ever before. An envoy has been sent to the wolves of Serpent Forest, and prospects look good. 

I keep watch.

While others mourn or flee to the stars, I walk the walls and count what still stands. I test blades dulled by neglect, trace runes that no longer answer as they should. Juhani is gone, and with him the certainty of command—but not my purpose. I listen for the drums of the horde in the distance and for the answer that may come from Serpent Forest. If the Wolves answer the envoy, I will be ready to meet them. If they do not, I will be ready to hold the line. Either way, I do not leave. My survival—and this stand—were never accidents.

I remain not by chance, but by design—set aside to remember what others were meant to forget.

Sixth of Passouan

It’s a warm winter’s day, the Drowning of Telos is today. Heavy rains cancel the festivities for off-duty soldiers. Drunken debauchery amongst the humans follows, elves are disgusted.

Kuri-Raphael

Rain drums the eaves where I stand still.

Below, humans drown in ale and noise,

laughter rotting into shouts.

I do not drink. I watch—

count guards, note shadows, feel the night shift.

An elf turns away in quiet disgust.

I stay, sober with memory,

waiting for the rain to end.

Conclusions So Far

Only one of the four players has provided responses so far. I don't know how that's going to go, come game time and only one of the four players has been tracking things.

But I think this is the best way forward. I may have to figure out what that means, practically, but it's definitely... it feels right. This is amazing. I love it. I just need to figure out how to channel it to others. 

We'll see how this works!

“You Must Be Human First”

The story goes that a man went to Mount Athos to be a monk. Now, on Mount Athos they assign you an elder, who helps you progress in the spiritual life. You obey your elder, he helps you, you progress. So this particular man goes to his elder and asks him what he needs to do. The elder hands the man a copy of Les Misérables, and nothing else. Confused, the man asks the elder what advice he has for him. The elder tells him "First you must be human, and then we can talk about you becoming a god".

In our totalitarian-minded age, this is vital to remember: true people live from their chest, not their heads. What's in your head advises what's in your chest, but it cannot, should not attempt to, control it.

What do I mean by this?

To be truly human is to be driven toward something. Something within you  burns, and you feel it in your chest.  This is not obsession, it is passion directed. It is to be the servant of the Muse who speaks in your ear. Some may reduce that to mere metaphor, but I don't necessarily mean it that way. The idea that humans are microcosmic receptors of the immaterial universe is a deeply human one. And if it human, it is Orthodox. What most people think of as simply mental is actually relational. That relationship can help you to realize that you were always meant to realize that you were always meant to understand and express something profound about the human condition—something that stirs compassion, mercy, and fierce love in the face of suffering.

Think of Jean Valjean in Les Misérables. Before his transformation, he lives entirely in his head: bitter calculations of injustice, cold survival, resentment hardened into ideology. But when Bishop Myriel meets him with radical kindness, not with judgment or control—handing over the silver and lying to save him—something ignites in Valjean's chest. A burning. Not obsession, but directed passion. He goes to another city, and helps those who he can. After failing Fantine by accident, he becomes driven to protect Cosette, to redeem Fantine’s memory, to build a life of quiet, relentless goodness. 

Jean Valjean's head still advises—strategy, caution, planning—but it no longer tyrannizes the heart. The heart leads, and the man becomes truly human. He is bound to those around him by love, and he allows that to become his telos. It is irrational. He knows it. But rationality is for man, not the other way 'round.

This is what the elder from Mount Athos knew. You cannot leap straight to theosis/divinization, to “becoming a god” through ascetic feats or intellectual mastery, if you have not first allowed yourself to feel the full weight and wonder of being human. The totalitarian mind—whether in politics, ideology, and especially guided "spirituality"—demands control from the top down: the head suppressing the chest, reason smothering passion, systems crushing the individual soul. But true freedom, true divinity, begins lower down, in that fire in the chest that refuses to be extinguished.

In our decrepit age, we are taught to fear that fire. We are told it is dangerous, irrational, uncontrolled. We are offered systems—political, therapeutic, and especially spiritual—that promise to manage it, channel it, or put it out altogether. Putting it out is the end goal, just for the record. But the elder on Mount Athos knew better. He did not hand the young man a rulebook or an academic theological work that would leave him cold but giddy, like being atop a lonely mountain. The elder handed the novice a novel full of broken people, impossible mercy, and love that costs everything. Because only when we have wept with Valjean, raged with Javert, and felt the unbearable weight of grace can we begin to know what it means to be human.

Only then can we stand before God not as clever ideologues or disciplined ascetics, but as wounded, burning hearts that have learned to love in spite of everything. Especially our deluded ideas about reality. Those must go. 

So do not rush to silence the fire in your chest. Do not let the totalitarian spirit—inside or outside you—convince you that safety lies in control. Guard that fire. Feed it with beauty, with stories, with acts of mercy that make no sense on paper. Let it lead you, and let the mind follow as servant, not master.

First become fully human.

Only then will the path to becoming a god begin to open.

The Empty Riverbed

 

It’s May 2021. I was five years into continuous flashbacks from CPTSD, since 2016. My waking days were filled with harsh and awful memories... and for a time I had consolation in sleep. But, beginning in 2018 dreams of a black-haired girl were becoming more frequent and intense, robbing me of sleep as an escape. Burning Wheel was my way out. I ran campaign after campaign after campaign, some of which never made it onto this blog. I was playtesting Heroes of the Grid and loving it. Then I finished The Book of the Short Sun, and everything changed. Suddenly I realized I had put too much into making Burning Wheel do what I had made it do… and I was running out of energy. But I loved what I was doing! 

For a little while I didn't understand that I was on borrowed time. The concept that I was a limited being, who was harried and tired and about to collapse, wasn't a part of me. I denied it as hard as I could. 

But I did collapse.  

Suddenly I had nothing left. I don't know how else to describe it. I was empty.

For whatever reason, I was left with a choice: I could either design a game that worked with me better in the long run, burning off whatever was left, or I could slowly spiral into the dark. Why was it that choice? I have absolutely no idea, but that's what I had. I don't make the rules here.

But it was a simple decision, all told.

One problem: I had no design experience. Or game writing experience. In fact, the previous designs I had attempted were awful, by and large. It was a common joke that my homebrews were to be avoided at all costs. And I felt, for lack of a better word, dead. Utterly dead. There was no drive, but absolutely no native ability at all.

That didn't stop me from trying, of course. I declared I was working on Crescendo and just started. I wrote and rewrote and rewrote drafts of the rules for Crescendo. But I couldn't figure what to aim for. I just sorta... swung. Wildly. I hit a few notes, but they felt like they were accidents. That was better than before, sure! But accidents aren't something you can reproduce, and I needed the systems I was designing to reliably reproduce results. There was just a feeling that I needed to somehow keep feeling like I was reading Short Sun for the first time. And I realized I had absolutely no internal barometer to measure anything, anymore. I had all the drive in the world, but no knowledge. And definitely no talent.

And then The Warning released their version of Enter Sandman. By this point in time I was a big fan of the band, and knew their cover was coming. I was really excited for it! The cover was what put them on the map, as they've related repeatedly. So I was happy they were leaning into it and Metallica were helping them. So I was there, at debut on YouTube, excited to see what they had come up with.

I hit play.

Something shifted.

It wasn't just a solid cover — it was ferocious, precise, and carried a kind of raw ownership that made the original merely a blueprint. The Warning had transmuted it into a sonic cathedral. Dany, Pau, and Ale didn't cover the song, they took it for their own. Remade it. When I think of Enter Sandman, Metallica doesn't even enter the conversation for me anymore. Hell, I barely remember what it sounds like now. The Warning's version of Enter Sandman is a journey through a land old and dark, to a crescendo atop a mountain, bright and loud and hot.

In that moment, everything I'd been wrestling with in Short Sun clicked into place. Short Sun isn't the sterile modern heroism, but the older and truer model: the man who leaves home, becomes the legend, but loses pieces of himself and then must reforge. Horn's splintered memories, Silk's quiet command, the unreliable narrator piecing together a new self.

Crescendo suddenly had the beginnings of a soundtrack. 

It all clicked together.

The "dead" feeling I'd been carrying didn't go away.  Instead, there was a torrent of fire going through the dried riverbed that was me. It wasn't the frantic Burning Wheel brawls of spouting flame, but something slower, mythic, something that built into a roaring inferno. Wolfe's Short Sun whispered through speakers at me: the papermaker realizing he's the rajan now.

I sat for a few minutes after the video, in shock. I rewatched it four times, right then and there. I couldn't feel something in me, but I could feel something. Suddenly, I knew what I was doing wrong with Crescendo. It wasn't  mechanics that I needed to put together, but to replicate the feeling. I needed the jolt of recognition that Wolfe had been training me to chase.

From that day forward, all the dozens of prototypes I wrote over the next two years had a new north star: capture the sense that something ancient and vital had just been reborn through human hands. The fire wasn't a part of me. I wasn't looking to replicate something I felt, but a perception of a reality that fed me. I wasn't trying to replicate the feeling I had, but to lead people to the watering hole and let them drink as deep as they wanted.

I didn't know the goal in a way that I could say, but it became clear: a slow-building crescendo, carrying players from internal fracture to something new, something they didn’t know they were missing until it arrived. Not because the Weaver (GM) forced it, but because the game had led us all to a frighteningly wondrous place. The game would then get out of the way and let the eternal Now work. It took years of wild swings, dead ends, and quiet rewrites, but the prototypes started breathing. Players would sit down exhausted or numb and walked away with the same jolt: “Something just shifted.”

And with Crescendo, I succeeded. I did it. And I didn't do it because I looked at a set of mechanics, but because I realized that gaming can be an evocation of a reality that's bigger than the participants. Four and a half years later, looking back from December 2025, I can see September 2021 for what it was. 

The bottom of the riverbed, not the end.

Short Sun taught me that the quest fractures you, leaves you pieced together wrong, but in all the right ways.

It's December, 2025. Crescendo's second full Ashcan draft is done, just waiting for the cover from the artist. I'm happy with that. It's going to be worth the wait. I mean, look at that! On the right! How crazy is that??? Thats the cover illustration done for my game. The guy who couldn't design worth shit all of a sudden... has a game. With an amazing cover illustration, inbound. The fire going through the trench has been dimming a long time now.

I am absolutely astounded. I didn't dream of this.

But something shifted in my mind. I don't know how it did so, I don't really know why. But suddenly a new flame started going through the trench. I knew it for what it was, immediately.

And now, while I am helping Crescendo find its way, something new is starting in its place. Something darker. More violent.

Something involving wolves and panthers.

Eating Crow: Positive Design and Mustafar

Eating Crow is when I admit a previous blog post was wrong, and why I think it was. This is a continuation a previous post. I recommend reading it. 

The Mustafar Duel is one of the big influences on Crescendo. Two brothers who have been molded by their experiences, who thought they meant the world to each other, only to discover they value their ideals more. This kind of moment should be happening in Crescendo all the time! But, in my years of playing, it has never come up since the metacurrency is dropped. 

Why?

Metacurrency is one of the chief tools of what I call Positive Design: do a thing and get rewarded for doing it! This triggers the Pavlovian response, and players then go for those kinds of actions instinctively. It’s a powerful tool. But this kind of design has a downside: it can short-circuit the soul. People just start chasing the kick. So, for a long time, I removed metacurrency rewards from Crescendo and focused on Negative Design, which allows players more inherent freedom. This sounded like a good idea. And I think Crescendo is a great game as it is in part because I focused on making the game inherently fun, without the dopamine kicks. Gameplay is smooth and easy and surprising. No session of play is like another. As it stands, Crescendo is by far the best long-form “storygame” I have ever seen.

But. There’s not even one Mustafar match, in a game about Heroes possessed by Beliefs. And that’s not how that’s supposed to work. Heroes are uneasy allies normally, or passionate friends/enemies. Crescendo not doing that experience is a critical flaw.

So what gives?

Well, it turns out I messed up. See, certain actions are just inherently unpleasant. Sticking to your Beliefs past the point of opposing another player is one of them. So the dopamine rush incentivizes you past the discomfort. And there are moments that should happen in Crescendo that are very uncomfortable. Like almost killing your brother. 

So, here’s how I changed the game. About a week before editing begins. It’s fine.

Fate Points

This is a metacurrency that can be spent to reduce the Margin during a Defy (which keeps the setting from changing in huge ways) or reduce an incoming Condition’s level, one for one. 

If you beat a Defy by 3, you can spend 3 Fate Points to make the Margin 0, instead.

So if you get a level 6 Lonely Condition (which would kill your Hero), you can spend 5 Fate Points to make it a level 1 Lonely Condition instead.

 You may cancel a Crescendo (a huge plot twist which has enormous consequences) for 8 Fate Points. Hit the Books to see what strange thing happens instead.

End of Chapter 

Go through each Belief. If there are multiple Players, go to a different Player each time. 

- Did you act on the Belief in a way that created trouble for others, particularly the other Players? If so, record a Bullet Point (a sentence in your Journal, which counts as XP for advancement) and take a Fate Point. 

- Did you act against a Belief in a way that created trouble for others, particularly the other Players? If so, record two Bullet Points. One is the action, the other is why you did it. Take two Fate Points. 

-If there are multiple Players, did your actions cause another Hero to receive a Condition? If so, take a number of Fate Points equal to the lowest level of Condition received. Write the Belief you acted upon to harm the other Hero as a Bullet Point.

- If you change a Belief voluntarily, take a number of Fate Points equal to the number of Chapters (sessions of play) you held it for.

Normally I would be reticent to allow Fate Points to be taken for acting on or against all your Beliefs. The dopamine kick would be very strong, and players would start gaming the system for Fate Points instead of actually role playing. 

But Crescendo has an answer for this: the Journal! 

You have to write the action down, forcing the more rational part of the brain to tun on alongside the dopamine lover, which is definitely one of the most human things one can do. It turns from “press button get pellet” to “I did something meaningful and here’s a pellet!” Humans are rationalizing animals. The more often you can get both halves of that existence to turn on at the same time, the better your life.

A further knock-on effect is that the Weaver can really take the gloves off. Role playing is a social activity, and giving out Conditions hits the “feel bad” center in the brain. Players, however, now have a means of lowering the sting, should they choose, using resources they earned. Defies, which can be extremely tumultuous, can be used only when the player actually wants to. Players have more control over the story… provided they mess things up themselves. From victimizing to empowerment!

Positive Design got a bad rap from me in the previous post. Not all actions are inherently pleasant, even if they’re very important to the experience, and therefore Negative Design can’t do much with them. In these cases, Positive Design can smooth over the rough edges, incentivizing actions that Negative Design simply can’t address. It’s a rough lesson to learn, but a vital one.

The MISSING Tools of the Dark Souls RPG

 

The Dark Souls RPG is a lesson in poorly written advice. Had I not read as many RPG rulebooks and theory, I would not have been able to figure it out at all. "Do what you find fun" is some of the worst advice you can put into an RPG book, and is the kind of thing that caused me to overwrite on mine own game, Crescendo. But fear not! I have a way of playing this game that's going to absolutely rock your game table.

The Instruments

Before I show you how to run the session, look over the tools we'll be using: the Encounter List, Encounter Die, and Reaction Rolls. These three tricks and mechanics will allow you to run the Level on the fly, with very little prep work.

The intent behind these mechanics is to push the players into situations that require them to utilize the game to navigate the challenges you made, while helping you populate your Level with stuff that your players care about.

Encounter List

The Encounter List tells you what's wandering your Level. Do not. Do NOT. Try to balance it. Get 20 entries on it, from the lowest shitling monster to the highest terror before God and man you want. This is really a matter of taste. 

If you want to grab something from not the Dark Souls RPG, do so, I don't have any advice on adapting monsters at the moment. If you find something that works, let me know!

Encounter Die

Every turn, roll 1d20: on a 5 or less, an Encounter happens. Roll 1d20 on the Encounter List and plop that creature into the environment, 1d6x10 feet away.

Roll 1d20 for each participant, NPCs/creatures included. If you roll higher than their Passive Perception, then they don't know they're not alone.

Reaction Roll

On meeting an NPC initially, roll 1d20, add the highest Charisma Modifier from the group and uses the initial result on the left.

The players accidentally bump into a boar. The highest Charisma modifier is +3. That player rolls 1d20+3, and his total is 10. The boar is Unfriendly: she's not outright attacking, not yet, but no one better get closer...

1-9: Violent, -3 Steps down this track

10-13: Unfriendly, -2 Steps down this track

14-16: Indifferent, No Steps

17-18: Helpful, but Won't Take Damage, +1 Steps up this track

19-20+: VERY Eager to Help, +2 Steps up this track

If a player tries to talk with the NPC, they narrate what they do. The GM tells them a Skill based off their RP, and they roll using that Skill, and the GM uses the result on the right.

Velkor the Herald tries to soothe the boar, motioning for everyone to slowly start for the exit while he tries to calm the boar down. Velkor's player rolls and gets a total of 17: Helpful, +1 up the track, so now the boar is Indifferent. It's not looking for excuses to go after them. With his other compatriots safely exited, Velkor himself has to make a good exit, so he narrates how he slowly edges his way to the exist, trying to not piss this thing off.  The GM grants that this action should be made with advantage, as he had already calmed the boar down a little bit, and it would make sense that he has an easier time of it now.

Nat 2 and Nat 1. Shit.

Something in the way Velkor was backing out pisses the boar off, and it charges immediately.

The Procedure

The following is a rough skeleton. It is not a straitjacket. Sometimes you'll have an idea that works perfectly, on the spot. Go with that idea! The Procedure is only to help you generate ideas so that way you don't have to think about it too hard. However, if that's not the case, if you're not completely inspired right then and there, use this Procedure, which utilizes the above tools.

Each turn, roll 1d20: on a five or a less, an Encounter happens. Roll 1d20 on your Encounter List, to see what the players bump into.

Roll against each player and NPC's Passive Perception. See what the people "in the know" do.

If  one of the players Randomly pick one player, and roll 1d6: 

1-2: Ask them how their Background factors into the Encounter.

3-4: Ask them how their Memory factors into the Encounter.

5-6: Ask them how their Drive factors into the Encounter

Let the player decide the particulars. Respond to their input.

Roll Reaction rolls as appropriate. Let the dice fall where they may.

If combat trips off, follow the rules in the core book.

Conclusion

These tools will let you navigate your Level in a way that feels appropriately Dark Souls. Next week we'll cover the procedures for generating your own Level, the Five Room Web!

If you have any questions, comment on here or hop over to my Discord Server!