Actual Play Archives

What We Played: Pottery Shards

Posted by Caroline

Playtesting continues for Marc’s latest project, the archaeology game currently titled Pottery Shards! Marc, Ben, Fred, and I had a great time testing out a new gameplay loop that really helped focus our world-building and felt organic and fun. Marc’s been patiently iterating on this design for just over a year, and it feels like we’re really getting close to the final rules!

The People of the Flood

We decided to study a brutal and ambitious civilization that resided beside a desert river. Our archeologist discovered one site with three artifacts that offered us a glimpse of the People of the Flood.

The Site

As first player I had the honors of describing the site. I made a tall cone made of hewn sandstone, with an underground tunnel entrance. Fred then got to describe what the site was used for. Since it floods each year, people swim through the tunnel opening to perform an annual soul purification ritual in the dark pool within the cone. Finally, Ben painted a picture of what this looked like – it’s all beige now when we look at it, but in the past the archeologist imagines it being painted brilliant colors against the desert tan.

The Artifacts

Marc introduced our first artifact, a large stone ball with three spikes protruding out of it, kinda like a spiky tripod. I got to describe its use. Our archeologist decided it was probably used as a sacrificial statue, symbolizing the evil you wanted to purify. Fred described the people hauling the statue as they would swim through the tunnel, a dangerous and difficult task. The statues get left at the bottom of the pool, making it more and more dangerous to enter.

We continued playing that loop format – one player introducing an artifact, the next player saying what it was for, and the last player sharing a little vision of what it looked like long ago. We created a series of carvings at the top of the cone, which were peoples’ ambitions for the year. Our archeologist imagined people climbing over one another to just barely reach the top and carve their hopes in the dark. And then we created a door that had bones in it, because of course people died during this ritual and so were buried within the walls. In fact, sometimes instead of bringing an evil spirit statue, you came with someone else to fight to the death. In the water. In the dark. Hey – we said they were a brutal people!

Onward

We only had time for that one full round. If we had kept playing, we would have gotten to move on to a new site, and discover new artifacts there. I’m excited to see how Marc keeps honing the rules and the text, and so happy that we are now in the ‘fine tuning’ stages of the design!

What We Played: Welcome to Sentai High! (Entanglement playtest)

Posted by Marc

The game starts with creating a setting. We’re supposed to pick a basic story concept, something everyone’s already familiar with. As Caroline read out the description, an idea flashed into my head. “Ok, hear me out,” I said. “Power Rangers.” We set up our little world of high school seniors at Sentai High in Neo-San-Kyoto, who face the challenge of fighting huge monsters in Japanese-warrior themed mechs while also finding time go on dates and study for the big test!

“We can’t lose someone else…”

Our cast of characters started with Riyuji Takanaka, a transfer student and newest member of the team, aka “the rookie” and Val Vaneo, a hot-headed hotshot member of the team. Next was my character Venetia Vaneo, younger sister of Val and decidedly not a mech pilot (and thus unaware of their existence!) Finally we had Tiger Lopez, Venetia’s boyfriend and (to complete the loop) Riyuji’s mentor. Tiger was the head of the ranger squad, but he was haunted by the loss of their former leader Jason, for which he blamed himself.

We finished character creation by writing feeling statements between our characters (Venetia loves Tiger, Val feels threatened by Riyuji), then passing the card to that player so they can write a reason why you should or shouldn’t feel that way (Venetia shouldn’t love Tiger because he’s hiding the truth from her, Val shouldn’t feel threatened because Riyuji aspires to be like him). We did this twice, then dove into the gameplay loop.

You got your sports anime in my mecha anime!

Our story was, from the get-go, a mess of emotions. Val and Riyuji were constantly at each others’ throats, both on the basketball court and during combat with giant monsters. Venetia, none the wiser about their secret identities as senpai superheroes, wanted to spend time with her cool older brother and go on a date to Boba Mountain with her boyfriend–but both activities were interrupted by the call of battle. Riyuji struggled to fit in, while also trying to fill the big shoes of the lost leader Jason.

In the end, Val overcame some of his impulsiveness, Venetia and Tiger broke up over a misunderstanding but got back together when she learned he wasn’t cheating on her (he was just out driving a huge robot!), and Riyuji finally found his place on the team after defeating the big bad and discovering the “actually just missing” Jason. Venetia got a mech of her own, and end credits rolled with the five of us silhouetted at sunset overlooking the city–along with a sixth character who was definitely there the whole time, what to do mean she never appeared in any scenes, she’s definitely part of the team and always as been!

Memorable Moments

“I’m heavily armed!” – Giant Octopus Monster, during battle.

“Now if you’ll excuse me… I have to go do a group project.” – Val, Tiger, and Riyuji’s consistent excuse for ditching Venetia over and over.

What I loved most about playing this game was the, well, entanglement of it all. We created a very deep and interconnected set of characters who just made sense together, and then attached them to each other with tons of thick strands of emotional yarn. This meant each of us had an interesting opportunity for interaction with every other character–and as any season groundtable gamer will tell you, often the best way to set up a scene is just pick someone you want your character to talk to, throw them into a situation, and let it fly.

Stay Tuned!

Entanglement is Caroline’s latest project that you’ll hopefully be able to play yourself in the not-too-distant future!

River Hobbits & Dirty Horses

Posted by Caroline

The Sunday Scouts took a break from our usual diet of Kingdom games to play some four-player Downfall a while back. I wanted to test some different world building mechanics as well as play with some new rules for character roles. We had two different arcs over several sessions with different societies in the same world, sharing the same Flaw. It was super interesting to see how each society took the Flaw in different directions and with different moods and stakes.

“I want to make noise on the water”

When we started, we decided we wanted to make a big classic fantasy world (you know the one) and zoom in on different parts of it. Our nations were separate, but all were connected by the flaw of Loyalty (and some mysterious ancient canals).

Our first society was an isolationist hobbity community, and our first Hero was an adorable fluffy gondolier, Charlie Sweetgreen. We had a tradition about apprentice bonds being as strong as family bonds, and then had a lot of fun exploring the tension Charlie felt between fulfilling that emotional bond to their opinionated retired master and being true to themself.

The whole game was filled with bittersweet moments of emotional and interpersonal struggle – and we ended the arc with our Hero Charlie quietly rebelling, releasing their own young apprentice to follow his dreams. Charlie sees it as a gift, but their legacy in the community is that they betrayed their apprentice.

“None will remember us.”

After we closed the book on our hobbit-town, we switched up roles and moved over to a “badass knights on dirty horses” setting in the same world. We adapted some traditions, fully changed a couple of them to fit the new aesthetic, and ended up with feuding matriarchal warrior clans living and dying (mostly dying) for glory and honor.

Our Hero was a proud, seasoned warrior named Brocha (Thane of Sigun Hall, Dromund’s Bane, Sword of The West Fold, Horn of Kell, Laklun’s Bane, etc. etc. etc), who resented being dragged into a raid to avenge the Fallen’s mother after her (dishonorable, treacherous) death. It was a night and day difference in tone from our pearl-clutching river hobbits. Lots of direct insults, duels, brawls, and bloodied swords. Brocha sees the folly in being loyal to a dishonorable cause, but is pulled into fighting to maintain her own honor. She’ll make the most out of it, disobeying orders to get the greater glory for herself, but in the end she is betrayed, and the clan fractures.

Experiments Continue

One of the things I enjoy most about a longer-form Downfall game is the ability to let things simmer, explore relationships outside of the Hero, and get into the heart of what different voices in the society are saying and feeling. We didn’t get to do it in this game since we changed settings, but I’m excited to play around with passing the torch from one Hero to the next, and seeing what happens after the Hero (or the society) falls. What can we forge from the ashes?

Epitaph on the Read, Play, Game Podcast

Posted by Marc

I love talking about Epitaph, so imagine how thrilled I was when someone reached out to me and asked me to talk about it on their podcast! That someone was one of the hosts of Read, Play, Game, a podcast showcasing tabletop RPGs of all stripes. They read and play a game over the course of a couple episodes, then interview the game’s creator. It’s a deep format that looks at games from “all sides of the table.”

I was interviewed before the gameplay episodes came out, so I had no idea what they’d invented in their fiction as I talked, but the format is such that knowledge of the story they made isn’t necessary for the interview. The hosts are charming, thoughtful, and passionate about gaming, and our conversation spanned everything from early designs of the game, why I chose to make certain rules, the art, and other games I recommend they try.

Give all the episodes a listen if you like, or skip to the interview. Thanks again to Read, Play, Game for playing and sharing the game, and for the wonderful conversation!

What We Played: The Farm

Posted by Marc

With the new free version of Follow and Caroline’s The Farm quest hot off the presses, I decided to take both for a spin at Story Games Olympia. And it was a blast!

I sat down with four Follow newbies and we dove in. Our first task was to customize our farm setting. How did we all end up here? Turns out there was a magic rock in a field that sort of “called out” to us all, and we just wandered in and decided to make a farm around it. Nice. Next question: what makes our quest to revive our farm difficult? Well, probably all our experimental magical farming techniques. And bad soil. Lots of rocks.

Next we made characters. I held off until last to see what everyone else made and fill in any gaps. We had a cook, a botanist, a poet, a local kid… but no farmer, so I grabbed that one. Our cook Cap’n was all about becoming famous for his cuisine. Local kid Rosemary just wanted everyone to believe she really could talk to rocks. The botanist Coriander wanted to create magical seeds to sell, and our poet Eloise wanted to connect with others. As for me, the farm owner Josie? I wanted to escape my dark past as some kind of evil wizard. Y’know, get back to nature and all that.

Rocks, weeds, and ghosts – oh my!

First challenge: clear the land. We struggled against weeds that put themselves back in the ground when you weren’t looking and an overeager Rosemary who insisted the rocks weren’t happy about us moving them. Finally Coriander suggested we “scare” the weeds away by planting Boo Berries (a Scaregrow was also floated as an option). We planted a ton of bushes, drew our stones, and… failed the challenge. We lost a farmhand (minor character) and tried to figure out how we’d screwed up. “Oh no,” I said, “we planted all these boo berries, and they drove off the weeds… but now our farm is covered with ghosts!”

Sure, the ghosts were cute and chubby. Sure, they only played minor pranks sometimes. But we had a farm to build, and we needed them gone. Challenge two: deal with pests. We hemmed and hawed about maybe making a soothing herb garden or using enchanted crystals… but then Josie went ahead with a dark banishment ritual and roped Coriander and Eloise into helping. We awaited the draw… and succeeded!

Our play time ran out, so we called that the end and did some epilogues. All told, I loved playing the Farm. Caroline managed to capture the “cozy” element quite well. The many roads untraveled in how we set up the farm and the characters made me want to play again right away, just see how it could go differently. Thanks to my players and good work Caroline!

When Worlds Collide

Posted by Marc

I recently had the pleasure of attending Go Play Northwest, our beloved annual story and tabletop game convention in Seattle. Caroline and I have been regular attendees for over a decade now, making us seasoned veterans of the convention space. With that designation comes (in my mind) a solemn duty to run games and show others a good time. To that end, I pitched a game in all but one of the donuts we attended and ended up playing six different titles with seventeen unique players–not bad! I’d like to tell you about two of the games I ran and why they were, in a word, awesome.

World-building meets world-building

I came out swinging with my first pitch of the convention: we’ll play In This World, then we’ll take out our Microscope and explore one of the worlds we made. I wasn’t totally sure how it would all work out, but work out it did. Four intrepid players joined me for the grand experiment.

We started with a list of topics, narrowing down to “tattoos” (I promise I didn’t tip the scales, despite having gotten a new tattoo two days earlier). Following the rest of the game’s steps led to three amazing worlds: World of Resumé Tattoos, where tattoos are designed and mandated by the government; World of Tattoo.gif, where tattoos are made from bioluminescent algae and nanites that can shift and morph based on your body chemistry; and World of Emotional Tattoos, a fantasy setting where strong emotional experiences cause semi-prophetic tattoos to appear on your body. Which one did we decide to Microscope? Vote now on your phones!

After a break, we picked Tattoo.gif as our setting. All of us said we could’ve done any of the three, but this one drew us in because of its cyberpunk aesthetic and the fact that one of our world-building statements referred to history already (we stipulated that tattoos of the past were made from the algae alone, and the nanites came later). We put the world description to one side for reference and started the Microscope procedure.

play materials from the nanite-tattoos in this world/microscope game

Did it work? Oh yeah. Having the world built for us put a lot of flavor into the timeline before we even started and gave us some easy targets for periods, but as soon as we got to the palette, we expanded the world in ways none of us expected beforehand. Our world gained another sentient race, ocean-dwelling people who first shared knowledge of the algae with humanity but later cut ties when we started developing nanotech. The key was letting the original world-build serve as a starting point, rather than a prophecy (don’t want to Farnsworth it, after all); we stayed flexible as we created periods and events rather than feeling locked to precisely what we’d said during In This World. We played a few rounds and had a blast. I declare the experiment a resounding success!

I choose you!

We sat down to play Grasping Nettles and started discussing the setting we wanted to create. The table was silent for a beat–everyone runs a little slow on Sunday morning. Then Caroline spoke up: “When in doubt, play Pokémon.” With these wise words, she kicked off a delightful session of the unique world-building experience Grasping Nettles brings, if you’ll pardon the pun, to the table.

We set our Pokémon-esque story on an archipelago of islands with inexplicably diverse climates (“You’re looking for the beach island? It’s right over there, between the arctic island and the red rock badlands island!”). After picking a setting, the game asks you to create three factions, so we invented: Team Riptide, a group of washouts and thugs who couldn’t hack it in the official Pokémon tournaments; Island University and Hospital, a joint research and treatment operation where professors and doctors work together; and the Puddle League, an organization of scrappy kids headed out on their first Pokémon adventures and their counselors, who are students at the University.

pokemon-inspired grasping nettles game materials

The unique world-building mechanic of Grasping Nettles is the wheel. Each faction has a pawn on the wheel, and on your turn you pick a faction, roll 1d6, and move clockwise around the wheel to determine which action you take. Only one of the actions is a Scene; everything else is world-building, from making a single character, to introducing an issue, to starting a project. It’s perfect for convention play because it allows you to essentially choose your level of engagement (making a location is much less involved than creating a new faction, for example), and every little move adds up so your contributions are constantly important to the fun.

Tabula rasa

I’ve highlighted these two games because they share a commonality: both required or were focused on world-building. There’s something uniquely magical about starting with a blank slate and creating an entire world from scratch. I’m drawn toward games that utilize a collaborative creative process to help players create something complex, individualized, and far more unique than what they’d come up with on their own or have come up with before. The moment when players’ minds click and start humming in harmony is what I’m always seeking–and much to my delight, I found those moments again and again at Go Play this year.

The fun of boring worlds

Posted by Caroline.

Lately I’ve found myself craving a certain kind of experience when I’m playing In This World. In addition to making at least one “thanks, I hate it” world together, I’ve been really enjoying creating pretty normal worlds.

I think it all started last summer with our cozy game about furniture. We made some pretty strange worlds (teeny-tiny chairs, folding rooms, etc) that were totally delightful. Then for our last world, Ben steered it into mundane drama territory (family feuds over Granny’s armchair, Sackville-Bagginses vibes). As we added details about inheritance and knock-off portraits, a little lightbulb went off: as much as I like creating brand new worlds, I also love exploring things that are just a little removed from reality.

For the furniture game, it went from, “Here are these interesting worlds that are visually and theoretically cool and strange, it would totally suck to live in an apartment where your only furniture was re-configurable cubes,” to “This doesn’t feel like a totally new world, it feels mostly normal. It reminds me of how my grandmother and her sisters fell out over their inheritance, and how they would feel that very little of what led to their estrangement matters to their descendants. I wish those objects hadn’t mattered so much to them. I wonder why they did…” Heavy stuff from a lighthearted, normal-ish world!

I’ve only had a few of these types of more mundane worlds pop up in recent games. The two that come to mind are:

A world of sustainable fashion. What would a society that values recycled and sustainable materials do about clothes? What would slow fashion look like in a modern context? Could I be more intentional about resisting consumer culture?
A world where we use dreams as therapeutic tools. What could we gain as a society by everyone giving themselves a period of reflection every day? Nothing magical, just a little extra thinking time. What can I learn about myself from this dream? Could I set an intention for my sleep in a productive way (so far – no, lol I sleep like garbage)?

In all of these games, we worked together to create something new and interesting. We each contributed things to make unique worlds that we wouldn’t have thought of on our own. Each world is a testament to the magic of putting a bunch of people with different ideas together. That alone is cool as hell. But there is also this residual, solo reflection that can happen afterwards, particularly with a more normal world.

I’ve been calling these “boring worlds” in my head (while also feeling a little sheepish when I feel like I’m contributing boring stuff to a game), but I think that attitude does them a disservice.

“Boring worlds” give me a way to try to understand the world I’m in and a way to envision how to get to a world I want to be in. I’m curious about what a world one step closer toward a gentler, more humane world would be. I’m curious about understanding something about the world that I’m in by exploring something just one step to the side. Maybe I’m trying to answer “why are we like this” and “how can things be better?”

Boring worlds for exploring big questions.

Mommy, Let’s Play Dungeons and Dragons

Posted by Caroline aka Mom

I didn’t expect to play any sort of Dungeons and Dragons with our kid, ever, much less when he was only five years old. Heck, the last time I played any real DnD was like twenty years ago and I have zero interest in playing it myself. Yet here I am: a dungeon mommy. Let me weave you the tale of how it began… but without good voices because I am not a Real Dungeon Master.

We were cleaning out his room trying to make a donate pile of toys that he doesn’t play with anymore. A big plush d20 that someone gifted us a million years ago came into consideration. Marc suggested donating it, and I foolishly said aloud, “Well… maybe he’ll want to play Dungeons and Dragons someday.” To which the Hobblet immediately attached ignorant but strong desire.

I moved on to organizing puzzles, but his attention was secure. “Is that Dungeons and Dragons?” he asked as I sorted an alphabet puzzle (not DnD) from a Paddington Bear puzzle (… could we make a Paddington DnD??!) . “Can I play Dungeons and Dragons? I want to play Dungeons and Dragons. Mommy let’s play Dungeons and Dragons.” And if you’ve ever heard a five year old say “Dungeons and Dragons” over and over again in his irresistibly cute voice you can understand that I was powerless to say no. And so our DnD campaign began.

His first character was a human rogue named “I Squished Your Cake.” Over the course of an afternoon he fought a bunch of dragons (by which I mean he narrated doing something, rolled the plush d20, and was given results by me, the worst dungeon master of all time) and then moved on to the next activity.

A few days later, we were making a new character — an elf warrior named “I chopped down your house”, which transformed to “Chop Housedown” and finally landed on the lovable “Chop Downhouse.”

Of course we aren’t really playing Dungeons and Dragons as written. We don’t have character sheets and I certainly haven’t read any books. We use a d20 (or rock-paper-scissors if we are out and about) for success/fail conflict resolution (of course something interesting always happens on failure, I’m a modern parent). We aren’t keeping track of abilities or levels or any of that, just doing some fighty-make-believe.

At this point in our campaign, Chop Downhouse has lost his axe (he kept throwing it at monsters and finally a dragon just flew off with it), and so has his first real mission. He’s following a Sand Dragon’s tunnel to some promised treasure with his friend, the enemy wizard lizard turned friend, Quake.

Some children are very interested in world-building. Right now, our child is excited about throwing his axe and getting sweet treas’. (So far the treasure has been a magical apple that never runs out, a magical cheese that never runs out, and magical bread that never runs out. These are all good things.) Beyond the battling and the treasure, we will sometimes have a very nice conversation between his character and an NPC (again, with no voices because I don’t really DM).

All in all, I have been pleasantly surprised at how much fun I’m having playing our version of “Dungeons and Dragons” together. We share our creativity at the level that we can, inhabiting made-up worlds that we imagine in our own ways. We call it Dungeons and Dragons, but like all DnD, it’s something else that only exists within the experience of the players – a goofy little kid and his proud mama.

…

I live in terror of the day he learns to read and discovers that there are actual rules and maths.

In this Camp

Posted by Caroline

When we go camping but forget to pack any paper, does that keep us from gaming? No way!

Once again In This World helps us unlock our creative powers!

Introducing four new ways to camp:

World 1: World of Crab Camp, where we are crab creatures from the far future. We camp in the semi-flooded ruins of humanity and sleep in *shudders* sliming bags.

World 2: World of Dream Pod Ships, where we sleep away the long voyage to new planets to escape a dying Earth. We dream of camping so that we can develop the skills we will need once we reach our new homes.

World 3: World of the Great Camp Off, where we camp competitively. Best camper for World President!

World 4: World of the Ghost Mammoth, where we are ancient peoples, leaving our caves to camp out in the wilderness. You come of age when you discover something new, but beware the Ghost Mammoth, a mysterious monster in these days where we believe our scary camp stories and begin to weave mythology. Ghost mammoth – he’ll getcha!

Big thanks to Marc, Kelly, and Fina for making the magic happen!

In This World by Ben Robbins is on Kickstarter until June 20.

In This World

Posted by Caroline

One of the nicest things that I’ve been doing this year is getting a coffee at a very quiet cafe with Marc and playing a story game together. We are able to snag an auntie or grandparent maybe once a month to make this happen, and it’s always delightful. I’ve always been a big fan of the morning con slot, so the coffee games are a special treat.

Far and away my favorite game of the year has been In This World, the new gem from our dear friend Ben Robbins. I think I’ve played it at least 6 times in as many months. In In This World, you choose a topic, describe facts about the topic in the real world, and then make various imaginary worlds by changing and remixing those facts. It’s creative candy to someone who likes world-building as much as I do.

This weekend Marc and I were big cute dorks and took it to the meta level — In This World: Story Games.

World 1: World of Endless Role-Play

We started by changing “Story games aren’t about winning,” to “well, actually they are, and the way you win is by being the last to break character.” Starting a game was a big deal, because once you started being Eldrock the Elf, you couldn’t stop or you would lose. Started a game of Monsterhearts? Sorry, but every time you see Helen at yoga, you both have to pretend to have teen monster problems.

World 2: World of Worldcraft

This was my favorite of the worlds just for being cozy and a world I might actually enjoy. We started by changing “Players play characters” to “Players create worlds.” Story games were all only world-building games, and they always ended before a story began. Instead of playing out the story, a player might take the setting and use it to write a novel. Good vibes.

World 3: World of Bleed

And now for some yikes, in this world, players don’t play characters, they play themselves, and everything is a metaphor for real life. If I want to break up with you, my elf will break up with your elf in the game. And if you aren’t playing? I’ll record my elf playing with an NPC and send it to you. Yikes yikes yikes.

At that point our babysitting time was quickly running out, so we ended the game there, and went for a walk around the lake. But like all games of In This World, you can’t really stop thinking about it, so we made a bonus world on the move (no index cards babyyyyy we’re wild).

World 4: World of Jumanj-ish

In this world, what happens in the game happens in the real world. And designers don’t make games, they were unearthed from ancient tablets. But what happens in the game doesn’t happen to you, it happens to strangers. The players know it’s happening, they just don’t know to whom. But the godlike power is cursed, and the circle of who your game affects shrinks over time, first strangers, then friends, then finally, on your final game, yourself. oooOOOOOooo!

It was about an hour and a half of total play, for four very different and interesting worlds.

In This World, like all of Ben’s games, is expertly designed to get us exploring big ideas. But what I most appreciate about In This World is how it makes me feel that the magic of each and every game is us — people getting together and sharing our unique perspectives to make something new.

In this world, story games are joy.

In This World is on Kickstarter till June 20th, and is 1000% worth backing. Do yourself a solid and check it out!