brainstorming ground for now

Everyone at the table is responsible for everybody else's fun, not just the referee. consider your fellow players; share the spotlight and help others have a good time

referee: don't take things away from the players. don't say the sword guy's sword gets broken. don't randomly kill off animal friends or important npcs. Put these things in danger and let the players defend them sure (so long as you don't overdo it) but be fair about it and remember the goal of the game is fun.

corollary to above: player ability selections are a message about what they want to do. if somebody is highly combat-focused, make sure that they get to fight sometimes. if somebody has levels in social archetypes, don't make everyone they meet a bloodthirsty animal. give your players the ability to solve problems their way and roll with it.

if a player has an ability that seems like it would be conceptually perfect for the current situation, let them use it for that even if the ability doesn't specifically list that use

if a player wants to do something that they don't have any conceptual training for, make it an operation challenge if they can explain a reasonable-sounding process for it or just make it a straight up die roll to keep the game moving. Announce odds of success in advance. 50% (7+) is a good standard.

referee: always roll dice in the open unless an ability specifically requires you to roll in secret.

prep situations, not plots. RAILROADING IS A SIN. anticlimactic moments and failure can be hilarious, and victory's sweeter when you earn it.

have a session 0 to discuss expectations so that everybody's on the same page. continually manage expectations as you go, but also be willing to be flexible on them if it looks like that's where the fun is.

referee: reward creativity when you see it! if a player asks if something is possible, try to say yes. or yes, but. or yes, and. when devising a ruling for ridiculous player shenanigans, lean a little bit in the players' favor. don't just allow stupid plans to succeed, but do allow for grift and duct tape to go just a little bit further than they might in real life.

“Your character is not a real person and does not have independent thoughts. When your character does something you know will upset the other players, you are responsible for that action. So have your character decide to do something else instead.”

Build campaigns around problems, not mysteries. Players know how to engage with problems. Layer multiple problems if you want to keep things interesting. Random chart of generic problrms/fronts?

“I read the whole book and it didn't say anywhere that I could think for myself” ← don't be that guy. this is a cookbook. the recipes given are those that worked at certain tables with certain players, but not necessarily your table and your players. remix the recipes as you see fit.

don't roll checks when searching an area. have a conversation about where and how you're searching, and the referee tells you what you find- or sometimes the referee will just straight up tell you about all the hidden things.

prep situations, not stories

needs

keystone examples for each archetype, at least a d4 chart for referee imagination. also: implied equipment list? Might constrain imagination and ability to make something your own though.

what this game is and isn't. elevator pitch.

Bestiary! Weird mishmash with accompanying anticanon

treasures random chart! something more interesting than 1-3 dosh. small chance for much more. also optional description chart for flavor?

Elevator Pitch

This is a system for playing characters and worlds that make perfect sense in context but sound like batshit gonzo mad libs when you describe them to somebody else.

This is a game about exploration, danger, and coming home again- and slowly being changed and effecting change of your own by the process.

At the beginning of the first session you've got a quarterstaff you barely know how to use and a contract to clear the rats out of somebody's cellar. At the beginning of the last session, you've got a sceptre made of jeweled skulls filled with lightning, a suit of armor that can turn into a motorcycle, a talking pet crocodile with a machine gun that travels through time, the love of a nation, and a grim determination to kill God.

The world is a character. Like the adventurers that the players control, the world gradually becomes richer, wiser, and weirder.

Systems are simple and highly modular, complexity is emergent.

Genre is to be subverted, mutated, blended and ultimately discarded the moment it ceases being useful or fun.