It’s immediately clear what the creator has done, and it’s hilarious. Turning rules text into personality-filled commentary is inherently funny. It also lends itself to creativity, because you’re working with relatively small fraction of the english language and sometimes have to use unusual syntax, which is also funny.

This format has become so ubiquitous among Lancer players that for many people the style has become synonymous with the game system itself. Most people these days probably have first heard of lancer through one of these memes.

What I find especially interesting is what other community this meme format has found its way into. “Lancer-style memes” were in vogue for a while on the subreddit for the Warhammer 40K skirmish game Kill Team, which features a similarly keyword-heavy, variable-font rulebook.

Here’s an example by u/DrokonFlameborn:

(I love this because he’s right, it’s extremely funny playing imperial navy breachers and having your 19-year old grenadier toss a breaching charge that casually obliterates two 1000-year old space elves while your friend can only watch in horror. Fuck you and your Power-Ranger-ass elves Goose.)

Ahem. Anyways. It’s like seeing someone speak the same language in a different accent.

if you like the kind of combat choreography from RWBY and have been looking for a ttrpg that can model that, consider SWORDS AGAINST HEAVEN, where every attack is a "Clash." attack dice are attacks, defense dice are attempts to avoid. each 4+ is a hit, each 5+ a guard. guards cancel hits!

creating this kinetic feel through just the dice. hit hit hit cancelled out by guard guard—ah, but one hit gets through! all against the framing that you rolled 5 dice (meaning you launched 5 attacks. 5 sword strokes or 5 points of looking for an opening) and on!

also, there's a social conflict system now inspired by exalted 3e's social influence system but completely condensed and streamlined.

and more of course. it's been described as "maoist wuxia" i describe it as "keris-and-talisman dark fantasy"

I am currently playing @anim-ttrpgs ‘s Eureka, specifically, I am playing the very good module Shootout at Studio 12, a module focused entirely on testing the limits of Eureka’s combat rules.

Before I begin some background:

I have both played and gmed Shadowrun 5e, and while I have my gripes with the system, I would say that I like it enough. I think comparing Shadowrun to Eureka is apt because I think they both have a similar “skeleton”. That is to say they both occupy a space in the Urban fantasy genre, they both are games with detailed combat rules, their combat systems have a lot of mechanics that work similarly, they both have very lethal combat. I could go on.

Quick systems summary

In case your unfamiliar with one or both systems, this whole post will be indecipherable. So here is the barest summary you’ll need to understand what I’m talking about.

Eureka is an investigative Urban fantasy game where a character’s actions are dictated by exclusively by skills and it’s rolling system is one where you roll 2d6 plus skills, 10+ is a full success, 7+ partial, everything else is a failure. Combat modifier add or subtract from the total

Shadowrun is a corporate espionage and sabotage game where a character’s actions are dictated by dicepools of d6s determined by a attribute+skill or attribute+ attribute values. Every result of 5 or 6 is a hit, the more hits a character has, the better her chances of succeeding at a task.generally a specialized character at chargen can easily get 4-5 hits on a task they’ve specialized at. Modifiers add or subtract from the dicepool before rolling

With that said, why is Eureka Combat better?

Eureka Combat is more streamlined

One might look at the system summary and think that Eureka seems obviously simpler. However that is neither true nor exactly what I mean, rolling agility + smgs skill and counting the 5s and 6s is only slightly more complicated than adding the result of 2 dice + firearms skill, and so long as the result is 10+ the bullet hits. The real problem is that every attack in shadowrun is a contest where you are trying to get more hits than your opponent’s reaction+ intuition. In Eureka, it’s just 2d6 + 3, that’s it. Now, imagine adding up the modifiers for each of these. In shadowrun modifiers apply to both the attacker and defender +2 for aiming, -x for cumulative wounds, -x from environmental effects, -x for range penalties, etc, etc. The defender gets modifiers too! -x for wounds, -x for attacker mode of fire, +x for cover, +x for running, etc, etc. Now to be fair you won’t probably use more than 2 or 3 modifiers at any given point, but it’s a lot to consider, a lot to look up, a big learning curve for newcomers to SR or the genre. Eureka is more streamlined but not overly simplistic there fewer yet similar modifiers but they all apply to the attacker making it a lot easier in terms of book keeping. Oh, and Eureka doesn’t have damage absorption rolls, all guns do 4 damage in most circumstances (enough to take a combatant out in one shot more often than not). This massively speeds up combat which allows players to focus on playing the game and keeps combat encounters feeling tense.

It bears mentioning before I move on that melee combat is not tacked on and laughably underdeveloped as it is in Shadowrun. Melee combat is even more complex and viable in Eureka, but I have not done more than read it so I will just mention it for now.

Eureka Combat is more deadly and more tactical as a result.

Guns in Shadowrun are scary, a gun can just kill a regular joe assuming he gets 0~2 hits on his defense test or he’s caught by surprise. The bigger the gun, the bigger the threat. A shadowrunner getting shot early on can seriously hamper a mission, that is if you roll really poorly in your 20+d6s damage absorption rolls. To be fair if a character has over 15 armor ( a component of the damage absorption test), they’ve probably invested heavily into that. It doesn’t make one an invincible tank, but it does enable someone to tank a shotgun blast ( I did get a very lucky 13 successes when a character of mine did just that). So the scare factor of guns is kind of massively kneecapped. Of course not every character is like this, but you don’t need to make a character 90% machine to be throwing ridiculous amounts of dice into the damage resistance test. Mages balance this out by having spells that bypass armor, but casting meaningfully damaging spells can be a big gamble that can potentially take out a mage until they become more powerful. What this means in practice is that an element of risk in combat can be mitigated in combat to the extent that it makes sense to gamble with getting hit. So long as a character can defend themselves, or soak damage characters can afford to make a few risky maneuvers without incurring much of said risk. In Eureka a character can take 1 bullet before they’re in serious trouble, if they’re wearing appropriate gear 2, if they are particularly tenacious and they have appropriate gear 6, half as much if they’re unprepared. It’s entirely possible to kill even the most well prepared and tenacious human character in one turn with a fully automatic weapon, a blow from a sword is very capable of incapacitating someone. Assuming a success on a firearms check, a character with an assault rifle could clear an entire room, unlikely as that scenario is, it is possible ( in Eureka, you can attack as many people as you have bullets to fire in a turn, but firing more than 3 bullets makes your rolls more swingy). This does not encourage reckless play, unlike what one might think, it encourages players to approach combat thoughtfully, overextending and risk taking can end up in ruin. Characters will die when they receive 5 damage but ca be incapacitated upon receiving 4. So combat becomes a game of how to secure the highest tactical advantage over your opponent. What angle will provide safe cover? How can I set my character up to take advantage of positive modifiers? How can I set myself up to capitalize on enemy mistakes? This is because Eureka combat is quite reactive. Shadowrun 5e has a reaction mechanic that treats initiative as a resource for using reactions. In Eureka reactions are somewhat more loosely defined but in such a way it makes sense. In Eureka reaction happens when a character makes themselves vulnerable, ie. By running out of cover. This makes positioning much more crucial to wining a fight than in Shadowrun and being caught out in the wrong spot can mean risking death for a character.

Conclusion

My god, cons are difficult! Taking my TTRPG to cons is 100% vital, but its always an ordeal. I've been making things since I was in middle school and taking them to conventions to share and sell. Comics, games, zines, art. For an introvert like me, showing up at a show (big or small) to present myself and my stuff is really difficult. Will people by nice? Not always. Even really great shows have a few assholes who seem to show up mostly to be difficult or awful to artists, vendors and creators. And some shows have a LOT of this kind of attendee. Is the show run well? Not always. Not even often. Most shows have at least some staff and volunteers who are trying their best and really care. A lot of shows are run by people who have no idea what they're doing, are just trying to make a quick buck, are actively trying to take advantage of guests, volunteers, vendors and creators, or who are only interested in being the king of their own little domain. Will the whole thing be an unpleasant sensory overload that lasts for 9-12+ hours a day with no relief? Usually yes. Will anyone even look at my stuff, let alone buy it? Often no. Its almost always an uphill battle.

Will every single gamer tell you that they'd rather play D&D or PbaA or some fucking World of Darkness thing or just watch Critical Role? Or jus buy dice? Yes. This will be the vast majority of all interactions. So? So why the fuck does anyone do this? Why put yourself through this just to hopefully break even on table and travel expenses? Its vital. For me, its my best tool for actually getting people to try my game. For winning people over. For getting a face to face one on one connection to make my appeal, even if it only lasts 30 seconds. Getting attention online is next to impossible (for me). No one will take a minute to learn anything about my game. Its not a SYSTEM. You can't play it with PbtA or FitD or Poly-whatever or some D20 thing. Its not part of an established movement like OSR. Its not a Morkborg or Mothership thing. So no one wants to look. Its not part of a trend. Its not a solo game. Its not a journaling game. Its not a 1 page game. Its not mech game. Its not horny. You can't fuck the characters. They're 10. So no one looks. That's no ones fault. Getting attention is so hard, but we're all so distracted and tired. And over and over, I hear people tell me they don't have time or energy for something new. So everything I mentioned above, that's a tool other designers and publishers use to get people to look. And that's 100 fine. If it sounds like I'm bitter and complaining (I am both!) it isn't directed at other games or other designers or fans or gamers. Its that we don't have enough time. We're all overwhelmed. We don't have the resources to explore and experiment. We have to play with what can fit within the limits we're forced to live with. So we find something we like based on a system we already know, because then we don't have to spend time learning something new. We stick with a game we already know, because at least our friends will try it. We'll try a horny game, because we were going to be horny some amount of the time anyway. We live within limits and we look for things that fit. (And we're lucky that there are a lot of great things that DO fit!)

And we end up missing a lot of things, because we don't have time to explore. Even online. Even while we're doomscrolling on tumblr we pass right by things because "it looks kind of neat but it's a new system and I've never heard of it so why bother?" The con is the answer. At the con, I can talk to you. You have time. You have 30 seconds, or a minute, or a half hour. You already bough a snack and some dice and you have money left to spend. And maybe you're feeling adventurous!

I can tell you about Yeld (my game). I can give you a real pitch. You can hear it directly form me. You can see how excited I am. You can hold my book in your hands. Oh, its really nice! The binding is good. The paper quality is good. There's so much art! I can show you how it works. I can show you what's exciting about it, what's familiar, and what's different. I can sell you on the idea that playing kids (or a dog) on an amazing adventure is fun. Exciting! No, its not what you're used to. Its different. That's the point. But you loved Avatar, right? You love Owl House. You loved Stranger Things and Naruto and Steven Universe and stories about children who take their future in their own hands as they set out to explore a strange world and stand up to injustice. These are stories of danger and tragedy and hope and darkness, no less BECAUSE they are about young people. No, this isn't personal wish fulfillment and playing a sexier version of yourself. TTRPGs can be other things. There's so much satisfying fun to be had in playing a character who is in the process of discovering who they will become. Of making mistakes and choosing poorly. Of getting lost in a strange and scary world with your friends and struggling to find your place in it. Finding your way home, or choosing to never go back. I'm going off a little. But my point is, I can pitch! I can show you how my game works. I can show you why fights are fun and involving and something to look forward too, while also showing that the game is about more than fighting. I can talk about how Yeld doesn't focus on moment to moment or scene to scene roleplay, but character and relationship development through travel, the passage of time and world building. I can easily show you who complex interlocking systems that are not meant to be obvious work together to create a satisfying gameplay loop that expands session to session as you play. I can convince you that building a narrative together with rotating Game Master rules isn't scary, but exciting and an amazing tool for expression! Doing this online is impossible. No one pays attention. There's too much to see. At a con, I have you. Even if just for 30 seconds. What else? There's so many GOOD reasons to bring my game to cons. I can sell books! Some shows I sell next to nothing. Other shows I sell everything I bring. It balances out over time. More and more often I hear "I saw this online, but didn't know anything about it!" Well, now I can tell you! Now I can put a book in your hand!

I can meet people! New gamers I meet at shows are more likely to become long term fans. More likely to not just buy my game, but actually read it and play it and be excited about it. Fans I meet who already like my game are more likely to continue to be excited. Store owners and con organizers I meet in person are more likely to invite me to events. Its very common for me to leave a con invited to a half dozen other events. A bigger stage: I can do panels, where I get to talk about whatever I want. As introverted as I am, I still regularly host panels and talks about game design, publishing, crowd funding, story telling, working with kids, making weird games, making art for games or just talking about my games. These panels almost always lead to immediate sales at the show. If I'm doing a panel on day 1 I expects a sales boost on day 2. I can run games with the same effect. People who play in my games get to directly experience them, and almost every game I've ever run at a con has resulted in at least 1 long term fan. I get to talk to people directly and show them who I am, what I love and why the thing I made is exciting TO ME. That pays off 80% of the time. That brings people back to my booth, and they leave with a book. I make friends and allies: Other designers, other artists. Stores. Cosplayers. Crafters. Manufacturers. Small publishers. Con staff. Reviewers. Press. Its not just about meeting people, its about building relationships. I don't mean networking. I don't mean sycophantic bullshit. I mean mutualism. I mean seeing what other people are doing, getting excited about it and HELPING them. Do you need to share a table? Do you have some water? Do you want to get lunch? Do you want to join my panel? Do you need someone to watch your booth while you run a game? Do you want to do a bundle together? Can I play your game? Can I see your art? Hey, you're not alone. We do this together. Yes, I'll tell my fans about your game. Yes, I'll check out your podcast. Yes, I'll come play your game. No, I don't have time tonight. I'm exhausted. So I'll find another way to support you. We survive on mutualism. We're not in this alone, and what goes around comes around. I NEED support: I can't... you know, I can't do this alone. Making things is hard. Making art, comics, games... I honestly sometimes feel like its killing me. I wouldn't want to do anything else, but its hard in a deep way that a lot of people don't get. I need community and support and comradeship and inspiration. And I can get that at a con. Even if it doesn't go great. Even if its a disaster. I can commiserate with my peers and I can lick my wounds and I can come home Monday and GET BACK TO WORK. There's always more to be done, and nothing reminds me of how much I LOVE doing this than a con.

This is my first go around of the combat system. It has comment permission so leave any comments, questions or suggestions there for dirrectly here, I have probably missed something staring at this doc for too long

My Obsession With Mythic Bastionland Continues

After the better part of a year spent with Candela Obscura ran for my group of newbie ttRPG players, I figured it was time to begin expanding my players’ horizons with games that are more than narrative experiences.

Enter Mythic Bastionland. I figured this would be a great first brush with some of the design philosophy that underlies the best aspects of Old-School Renaissance (OSR). Mythic Bastionland is driven by procedures that are excellent at encouraging the emergent gameplay that is at the heart of OSR. It possesses mechanical complexity that at the same time doesn’t intimidate with its granularity from the get-go. The combat, after a halting few turns, begins to click: there’s a clear order of things, no time-wasting “to hit” rolls, and a smorgasbord of Gambits that offer mechanical, but not cognitive, complications.

I introduced the game, suggested we start playing with young Knights-Errant freshly arrived to the realm I’d concocted (you can read about the prep here). A. rolled up a Salt Knight with good stats, including a Spirit of 18; K. rolled a Ring Knight with stats slightly below the average. Both lucked out on their Guard rolls, each scoring a 5.

Here came a first wrinkle, one that promised to benefit the characters enormously. K. rolled for the Ring Knight’s rings, and got what might just be one of the most potent effects they offer: “Wearers share Guard. Use total.” Suddenly, I had two nigh-on untouchable characters.

Hoo, boy. This was going to be a very different adventure from the one I ran for my other group of players.

How to start a Mythic Bastionland game?

I struggled with this the first time around; the second, a rather nice set of prompts presented themselves. The Salt Knight’s Seer is the Bright Seer; the Ring Knight’s thorn rings can only be put on or removed at sunrise. Combining these two ideas together, I described to my players how our story begins with an exchange of rings. A ritual at dawn, meant to strengthen the bond between the two knights’ company, and augment their defences. I dare say it was quite atmospheric: one knight, Lorelai, dressed in violet chainmail knelt down, placing a ring of thorns on the hand of the other, Sam, atop a plateau at the very shore-edge; the wind blowing sprays of seawater, as the first rays of the sun reflected off chainmail and sea alike.

The Bright Seer led this ceremony, in effect a mouthpiece for me to, A) Invite the players to engage with this introductory scene, and, B) to introduce the Knights-Errant to their journey. When all was said and done, he wished them well, burst into flame and turned into ashes that were scattered by the winds inland.

I’m not alone in thinking that someone called the “Bright Seer” would have a flair for the dramatic, am I?

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Hexcrawling

Next, I pulled out the map. This was my players’ first introduction to the concept of a hexcrawl. I told them that this is a game of exploration and invited them to pick a point within the Realm - wherever looked interesting to them, they should journey down that direction, I said. Mythic Bastionland is all about the journey, about what happens on the way to an objective--another marker that highlights the game’s OSR identity.

The first myth the dice threw their way was the Hydra. I worried about running that one, as it sets up encounters very far from the traditional...but the dice decide, and both characters having a guard of 10, it would at least offer me a chance to wound one of them.

But let’s think about the Hydra for a second. One thing you have to know about it is, it’s not a combat encounter. Or not just. It’s much more a puzzle. The last words of the first omen, reiterated time and again on that Myth’s page? “It cannot be killed. It must be endured.”

Chopping a bunch of snake heads won’t do it, and neither will letting it swallow you and tearing it from inside (K. asked. I did consider, but...). What I love about this, and what worried me a tad before running it is that the Hydra is the kind of foe that requires unconventional thinking. How was I to underline the importance of that?

The dice delivered. After the Knights-Errant came across the Candle Knight, lone survivor of the Hydra’s first attack, they meant to escort her towards the nearby town of Thornwick. On the way, however, the two came across a landmark. I rolled - and wouldn’t you know it, the type of Landmark was exactly the kind of place that lets a referee provide some useful information to his players. A Sanctum, the sacred home of a Seer. I used a few prompts, rolled a few dice and turned up with the Winged Seer, a feckless and frail creature who lives in the luminous hollowed out trunk of an ancient oak, his wings held aloft by acolytes. Pretty bloody metal.

It was a fun scene, despite a minute-long struggle with finding that NPC’s voice. There’s one thing I’d like to do better from now on, and that is: ask the characters for specific things in return for the Seers’ aid. At this juncture, I used the rather opaque final point of the Winged Seer’s bio: “Wants to bask in vicarious glory.” For his aiding the Knights with information and guidance, he demanded that he be given a place of primacy in the myth of the Hydra’s banishment - if the Knights were to succeed, which the Winged Seer very much doubted. This was fine and the only thing I came up at the moment, but it’s also a little too wishy-washy for me.

Instead, I could’ve rolled on the table of treasures the Hydra keeps in one of its mouths to draw victims out. I could’ve then had the Seer demand that the Knights bring back this artifact - thus adding another fun layer of complication to the characters’ interaction with this Myth.

The Seer gave them a location and an appropriately mystical description of the Hydra’s whereabouts. Off they galloped, right into the heart of the Hydra’s Myth.

The Second Omen

The scene of the two knights, Lorelai and Sam, tying their horses and descending into the damp darkness, walking down natural stone steps towards an underground lake, each holding a torch in one hand, weapons bared in another: this is the stuff memorable adventures are made out of. It wasn’t long at all until they caught the reflective glimmer of scales at the edges of the ring of light created by their torches,.

How were they going to deal with the Hydra? My players thought about that long and hard and came up with a plan they managed to execute perfectly. Sam, the Salt Knight, distracted the Hydra while Lorelai, the Ring Knight, prepared to use her ability:

Despite the preparation and some wonderful rolls, Sam, with her 10 Guard, nonetheless got a scar. Leave it to me to roll a 10 on a single d10 (the other d10, Sam successfully Denied). The scar the Hydra delivered wearied Sam, and decreased her Spirit from an almighty 18 to a measly 12, but she jumped inside Lorelai’s circle just before the other knight sealed it.

Were they safe in the circle? For a time.

The Hydra, furious, tried to get past the invisible wall for many long minutes, thrashing about in an impotent rage. But, see, the Knights were next to the underground lake; what I did was, I rolled a Clarity save for the Hydra, to see if it would notice the circle and the chalk it was drawn in. It did, and its next action was simple enough: it drew water forth from the lake and let out a spurt not towards the Knights-Errant but towards the circle itself. As it dissipated, the Knights decided it was a great time to fuck off. Sam once more held the Hydra’s attention while Lorelai desperately climbed up, intent on untying the horses and preparing them for a desperate flight; meanwhile, the Salt Knight frustrated the Hydra at every opportunity as she beat an ordered retreat.

The session ended with a frustrated Hydra hissing furiously at the sight of the two Knights on their steeds, having successfully endured the monster for the first time.

How About that OSR Philosophy?

Okay, but how does all this translate to teaching my players OSR philosophy? For one, Mythic Bastionland teaches all of us to embrace randomness: the dice told a story through luck and save rolls, through the entirely random wilderness rolls that produced first the Hydra Myth and Candle Knight they met, and then the exact landmark that could’ve given them answers to the mystery of the Hydra they wanted to explore at this juncture. If they’d instead come across a different landmark--say, a dwelling--they likely would have encountered the first Omen to a wholly different Myth.

Another staple of OSR is the exploration of the exterior world rather than the interior, and I think I’ve put the hooks into my two players for that, too. Character (which was the focus of our *Candela Obscura* game alongside dark academia nonsense and occult horror) takes a backseat here. Don’t get me wrong, th players have begun to develop character voices but the aim here is that they interact with the world in satisfying ways: and MB empowers this.

Finally, I think, any good OSR game teaches players not to rely on a list of skills but on doing a lot with the little they have at their disposal. OSR games, in effect, invite players to exercise ingenuity in problem-solving. Yes, my characters did make use of the abilities on their character sheets but they did so in an intelligent way that used the information they had to its fullest advantage. They plotted, they planned, they came up with new solutions on the spot when old ones failed.