Zamonia ttrpg - trying to be

I recently read an article by @toyourstations (which you can read here) about art revolutions, both online and in physical space. It makes the point that art communities online are generally fairly insular, rarely reaching out beyond a small circle of other artists. To combat this, the article argues that you as an artist should find a way to exist in physical space around people who are not in your small group and share your art there. It's a topic that I had been thinking about a lot lately as I've been making a conceited effort to connect more people in the indie ttrpg space and encourage more community amongst artists.

I've noticed a trend that relates to both of these topics. It seems to me that people in the indie ttrpg community online rarely interact with other's works. I see in other art mediums an outpouring of interaction on even the most sophomoric works. Yet amongst ttrpg writers, I see posts of well made projects with little to no interaction or feedback. This is purely subjective and my experience may be skewing my view on the topic but it seems to hold true.

I have a few theories.

This is obviously a fairly small community, but there are at least other artists here that would have opinions about the projects they see. Are people scared to interact; to give criticism, both good or bad? You would think in such a small community of creator/artists that people would be sharing ideas and writing critique.

The most cynical theory is that creators don't want to boost up other projects as they see them as competition. There is a feeling that there is only enough oxygen in the room for one or two projects to exist and you don't want to lift up other projects when it may result in the starvation of your own.

There is also the time investment. It takes time to read and interact with ttrpgs. Playing/testing them is a whole other level of commitment. But there must be some people who at least read or skim projects. Why do they not leave comments. Does it really come down to the size of the community? Are there just not enough people interested in projects outside of their own?

----

1) 90% of ttrpg content being pumped into the world is dnd. There was that terrible polygon article a few weeks ago about "shouting louder" about indie projects, but it's like shouting next to a highway. pointless unless people are actively listening.

2) it's such a niche hobby that when I talk to people about it irl they usually go "Oh i think i've heard of that" or some variation. It's getting more mainstream, but again, see point 1. 99% of what is entering the mainstream is dnd.

So for indie ttrpgs, not only do we have the conversion rate of 5% of people who see it will click, etc. we also have the problem that only 5% of the general population know that there's anything to hear about! And those people are scattered across facebook groups, subreddits, twitter/blusky/tumblr/tiktok/youtube/instagram, discord servers, decrepit forums and home groups who have been using the same dusty tome of homebrew for 30 years.

It's a tough market to get eyes on! And arguably, that's where in-person sharing of your art is most important. My Oma still thinks I make videogames, but she has actually played one of my ttrpgs, and she wasn't bad at it to be honest! You can teach anyone a ttrpg with patience, and they never have to know the phrase ttrpg. But if they have a good time, they might learn the phrase, and that's a whole new person that's going to look at games online.

All this to say, you're absolutely right! it sucks! I just don't think it's so simple as people being selfish (though! I have defiinitely seen selfish behaviours in the scene, in the self promotion circles on twitter).

I would really love to foster more cultural production in the indie rpg scene. And that's kind of a pretentious way to say "fandom," but it's kind of why I've been harping about indie creators making their own fiction and lore over on bluesky.

A "problem" with indie RPGs is that they are relatively easy to produce quickly, and there's a lot of them. This means that it's difficult for any one game to gain traction. We see a similar problem with videogames these days, where too much great shit is coming out and discoverability on Steam (or in our case, itchio) is a gamble. To OP's point, I think it's less that people are afraid to engage with other people's work for fear of burying their own, it's just that there's so much stuff all the time that everything gets drowned out.

To Jack's point, it is also hard to get new people into indie RPGs. You generally need to be able to gather a group of people to play them, which introduces scheduling conflicts. You often need to introduce people to the concept of playing an RPG, which is a struggle in itself. And then you have to teach them a game, which depending on your system, could take a while to master.

I don't think I have a great solution for this "problem," but I do have some theories about how we can help move the "RPG Overton Window" to get new people into the hobby. And that's where cultural production comes in.

Go deep on your 30 sickos: It's common advice in the indie scene to pick a few designers that you consider peers (as opposed to established ones who already have an audience) and get invested in their work. This can mean boosting their self promotions, but it also means actually scheduling games with them, or inviting them to play with you. Forming a little niche of fellow designers you really like, IMO, is really neat because you get to watch each other grow. This is genuinely the reason I'm in the hobby, this is not Survivor, I am here to make friends.

Treat your favorite games like they're hot shit: I spent the back quarter of last year writing short stories about various indie rpgs I love. This is essentially fanfiction, but the point is that I've used the thing I'm best at (writing) to invest in someone else's fictional world. If you're a designer, consider making a module, expansion, or setting book for a smaller game, and then play that with other people. If you're an artist, post fanart of your favorite game and flood the tumblr/AO3 tags. If you're a blorbo sicko, same principle, write up insane theories and headcanons about your PCs, and speak about them the way people talk about Severance or *checks trending tab*...Hazbin...Hotel? Whatever's popular, that's what I mean. You can become the critical mass that fandom forms around for a game. Even if that game's fandom is only a handful of people, I think it is worth building.

Cross-Medium Conversations: This is the hardest one, and I do not expect any but a handful of people to go this road. But in a media ecosystem that is so highly fractured, people are ever more frequently turning to youtube, tiktok, and podcasts to get recommendations. And believe me, I fucking hate being a Youtuber. But if you are willing to try to reach a hand out to the normies, meet them on their chosen ground, you might be able to reach some of them. YT and TikTok are useful for marketing because their algorithms can sometimes push you in front of new (and, admittedly, irritating) people who might just be interested in an indie RPG. The reason I've had any success on YT is because people like video essays. They see a 40 minute timestamp and they get excited, because that's a format they're familiar with. Combine that with another piece of media that they may already be familiar with, and you can hook them into an RPG that they would probably like! It's a pain in the ass, it really is, but unfortunately you gotta meet people where they're at, and a lot of them are at "I don't know what to look for, but I'll watch something if it gets shoved in front of me."

I spent most of the latter half of 2024 thinking about this issue, by way of thinking about a more pressing issue for me: how to make a living doing this. I'm a disabled artist who's largely unable to work otherwise, and I'd really like to have enough income of my own that I don't always have to rely on those very supportive people in my life. Eventually, I came up with a plan.* Walk with me.

Imagine that you're starting up a local movie theater, and you're pondering the topic of audience. What kind of audiences do you want to draw for the best balance of profit and taste? It seems to me that you have three options: 1. Pander to the MCUboys. This is a super reliable audience, obviously, and they've got money to spend. The problem with this approach is that you're just further slicing the pie - sure, they're a big audience, but you're only ever going to draw a proportional fraction of them, roughly evenly split with all the other theaters in town, including the AMC downtown. Plus, you'd be tying yourself to a property that won't last forever; it's not sustainable, even if it's profitable now. 2. Pander to the Indieboys. This also isn't a great plan - sure, the indie folks are by far your most dedicated crowd. They'll show up for anything, and they'll do it regularly. But as with all indie art circles, they've been passing the same $20 around for the last decade. It's just not profitable enough to keep your business afloat. 3. Cater to a Casual Audience. As a movie exhibitor, this is easy. Everybody goes to the movies! All you have to do is do stuff other than just movies! Maybe sell food in your lobby space and fill it with seating - now it's a dinner spot, too! Or maybe sell local art, too. That way you're getting the attention of people whose focus isn't on movies, and maybe they'll decide to book a ticket to something while they're here having a meal with their visiting parents.

In my city, the local indie theater does all of that and more; they hold monthly workshops where a local artist teaches a workshop on how to do their weird niche thing. In fact, I did one last year, and it was great! About seven people showed up, and one of them was my mom. But you know something? I made a tidy little profit from tickets, and sold a few games besides.

You may have spotted the problem: that being that tabletop RPGs don't have a casual audience. This artform is stuck between two extremes: the MCU and the gorehounds. As others have pointed out - 99% of people who've heard of this medium at all have exclusively heard of D&D, including a lot of pretty hardcore, invested D&D fans. On multiple occasions, I've tested the waters by asking someone if they play RPGs, with the response being "yeah! I've been playing D&D with my friends for like three years!" and then, when I ask if they've ever played anything else, they hit me with the "there are other games? I had no idea!" It's not just that D&D is the most popular thing; it's that to most people - even those who we would consider significantly invested in the medium - D&D is the only thing. The idea that other games can exist at all is alien to a lot of folks. Pretty scary, huh?

Well, here's the twist. It's actually a super solvable problem, and you might be able to do it where you live, for free.

Step 0: First Principles Before you begin, you'll need to iron out your goals and your approach. For me, this is pretty simple - one, I don't talk about D&D. Whenever I'm talking about RPGs, especially to newbies, I straight-up act as if D&D doesn't exist unless someone else brings it up. If I need a standard fantasy RPG that's still in print, I default to Pathfinder, or something more niche if I think I can afford it.† Two, I decide right now that selling my own product is going to be pretty low on my priority list. This is for two reasons, the most relevant one being optics - I want people to feel like I really care about this hobby (which I do, to be clear), and promoting my own work when I could be spotlighting other people's games is going to clock as kind of shady to some people. Because, frankly, it is.

Step 1: Avoid Your Local Game Store Which isn't to say don't shop there, obviously. I only mean that for this little project of yours, the local store won't work. Why? Survivorship bias. Your friendly local game store is, through no fault of their own, the MCU theater. They only pay rent because they sell D&D and Magic cards - and let's be real, Magic cards are the smaller market. Don't blame them for this; they're doing everything they can, and the fact that they can afford to buy stock of Monsterhearts, or Avatar: Legends is a mark of their success. But the fact is, they're the plane that made it back. Their audience is almost entirely D&D-heads. Those aren't the people you're trying to reach. Instead, you're looking for a local art spot. A popular coffee shop that doubles as a gallery; A used bookstore with weekly storytimes and programs for local authors. Somewhere that meets these two criteria: a) they cater to a wide, casual market who do not come here for tabletop RPGs, and b) hold any kind of regular event. Poetry readings, book clubs, anything like that.

Step 2: Talk To The Owners I'll be real - this is the step where I got the most lucky. See, I was about two days into formulating this plan when my local movie theater decided to start hosting weekly board game nights. As in, anyone can show up, bring-your-own-game, play with whoever you like. For free. The opportunity fell into my lap. Even if I hadn't already done business with this place, I wouldn't have needed to bring this plan up with them. They'd just given me a free opportunity. You may not be so fortunate. In your case, then, you'll want to bring your pitch around and see who bites. In many cases, this is going to be you starting up a new event at this location, and that means a lot of responsibility on your shoulders to maintain the schedule, the marketing, etc. The thing is, though – there’s always more going on in your city than you imagine. In my experience, a lot of these local art spaces are pretty bad at advertising themselves, and all it takes is a little searching and some in-person friendships to get you in touch with something you can take advantage of. Maybe your library has some kind of regular mingling event – old-school fantasy geek meetups, or a star-trek fan group who meets every other week at the mom & pop diner. See if there’s something you can ride the coattails of, before you take the leap of organizing your own event.

Step 3: Be Prepared I made a spreadsheet. I have the next six months planned. I don’t go to every game night – instead, I show up every other week. I’m there the full two hours, no matter what. Unless I have to, I never show up alone. I bring pre-made characters, a pre-written module, pencils, paper, dice, and two dice boxes. If I have one, I bring a physical copy of that week’s game. If nobody bites, no worries – I just carry over that game to the next week, ad nauseum, until it gets played. I select for smaller games that I already own. One-pagers, zines, that sort of thing. I also select for games I think are either accessible to newbies, or which I would consider required reading. Lasers & Feelings; Roll for Shoes; Crash Pandas. I also selected my timeframe very carefully. I’d burn out if I prepared a new game with characters and an adventure every week, and people would forget about me if I did it only once a month. So it’s every other week; enough time to not stress overmuch about prep, but not so long that people forget, or quietly assume I stopped coming.

Step 4: Persist Then, I mingle. I talk to people who show up alone; I make a show of being an open table. And I ask everyone I meet: “Do you know what you’re playing tonight?” This step takes patience. A fucking lot of patience. My first two weeks (which is to say, my first full month, real-time), nobody bit. That was due to a combination of factors; for one, it was still January, and the event was pretty dead. It’s gotten better since. For another, I went alone those weeks. It felt kind of pathetic, honestly – but I knew what I wanted, and I was willing to wait for it. And it’s working. My last showing, I came with two friends, and two other people showed up. One of them told me at the end of the night that he had someone in mind to invite along. Folks, this is a long game. A really long game. My plan is to do this every other week for the rest of the year, barring a few things, and my goal by the end of 2025 is to have four, maybe five, regulars. But I know what I’m here for, and I know it’s going to take a while.

I’m cultivating a casual RPG market in my town. Because that’s really what we need, isn’t it? This is a really niche hobby, but it doesn’t have to be. Wizards of the Coast have proven, in their own slimy way, that RPGs can appeal to a huge array of people, if they’re given an open door. If you care about de-monopolizing this hobby and opening it up for more artists to be able to make a living, then our goal needs to be generating a casual gaming audience that isn’t funneled through the filter of D&D to get to the other side of indie. They need the opportunity to try out the medium from other angles. And if you’ve got the time, energy, and inclination, I think you can give it to them.

*This plan won't work for everyone. In fact, I suspect it won't work for most of us, for one reason or another. I think I'm pretty lucky both in terms of the support network I have in my private life, as well as some of the material & geographic resources at my disposal, and this solution requires all three. But I hope that some of what I outline here is transferable to other people's circumstances as well.

It completely robs you and your PC of absolutely any accomplishments.

I think people who only ever played D&D and games like it, people who never played a Powered by the Apocalypse or Forged in the Dark system, or any other system with narratively-minded mechanics, are under one false impression:

Mechanics exist to restrict.

Seeing how these people argue, what exactly they say, how they reason why "mechanics shouldn't get in the way of roleplaying," that seems to be their core idea: Rules and mechanics are necessary evils that exist solely to "balance" the game by restricting the things both players and GMs can do. The only reasons why someone would want to use mechanics in their RPG is to keep it from devolving into

"I shot you, you're dead!" "No, I'm wearing bulletproof armor!" "I didn't shoot bullets, I shot a laser!" "Well, the armor's also laserproof!" "Nuh-uh, my lasers are so hot that they melt any armor!" "My armor's a material that can't melt!" And so on. Because we have rules, the players can't just say "we beat this challenge", and neither can the GM say "you haven't beaten this challenge." Because the rules are clear, the rules are obvious, the rules tell you what you can and can't do, and that's it.

So obviously, when the idea of mechanics directly interacting with the roleplay - generally seen as the most free and creative part of a TTRPG - seems at best counterintuitive, at worst absolutely wrong. Hearing this idea, people might be inclined to think of a player saying "I'm gonna do X", just for the evil, restrictive mechanics to come in and say "no, you can't just do X! you first have to roll a Do X check! But you also did Y earlier, so you have to roll the Did Y Penalty Die, and if that one comes up higher than your Do X die, you have to look at this table and roll for your Doing X If You Previously Did Y Penalty! But, if you roll double on that roll..."

But like... that's not how it works. Roleplay-oriented mechanics don't exist to restrict people from roleplaying, they're there to encourage people to roleplay!

Let's go with a really good example for this: The flashback mechanic from Blades in the Dark (and games based on Blades in the Dark).

In BitD, you can declare a flashback to an earlier point in time. Could be five minutes ago, could be fifty years ago, doesn't matter. You declare a flashback, you describe the scene, you take some stress (the equivalent of damage) and now you have some kind of edge in the present, justified by what happened in the flashback. For example, in the Steeplechase campaign of the Adventure Zone podcast, there was a scene where the PCs confronted a character who ended up making a scandalous confession. One of the players declared a flashback, establishing that, just before they walked in, his character had pressed the record button on a portable recording device hidden in his inner coat pocket. Boom, now they have a recording of the confession.

How many times have you done something like this in a D&D game? How many times did your DM let you do this? I think for most players, that number is pretty low. And for two reasons:

The first, admittedly, has to do with restrictions. If you could just declare that your character actually stole the key to the door you're in front of in an off-screen moment earlier, that would be pretty bonkers. Insanely powerful. But, because BitD has specific mechanics built around flashbacks, there are restrictions to it, so it's a viable option without being overpowered.

But secondly, I think the far more prevalent reason as to why players in games without bespoke flashback mechanics don't utilize flashbacks is because they simply don't even think of them as an option. And that's another thing mechanics can do: Tell players what they (or their characters) can do!

Like, it's generally accepted that the players only control what their characters do, and the GM has power over everything else. That's a base assumption, so most players would never think of establishing facts about the larger world, the NPCs, etc. But there are games that have explicit mechanics for that!

Let's take Fabula Ultima as another example: In that game, you can get "Fabula Points" through certain means. They can then spend those points to do a variety of things. What's literally the first thing on the list of things Fabula Points let you do? "Alter the Story - Alter an existing element or add a new element." I've heard people use this to decide that one of the enemies their group was just about to fight was actually their character's relative, which allowed them to resolve the situation peacefully. I again ask: In your average D&D session, how likely is it that a player would just say "that guy is my cousin"? And if they did, how likely is it that the GM accepts that? But thanks to the Fabula Point mechanic making this an explicit option, thanks to rules explicitly saying "players are allowed to do this", it opens up so many possibilities for story developments that simply would not happen if the GM was the only one allowed to do these things.