Ironsworn, set in an iron-age dark fantasy world, is a game about survival. To quote the game itself: “You will explore untracked wilds, fight desperate battles, forge bonds with isolated communities, and reveal the secrets of this harsh land. Most importantly, you will swear iron vows and see them fulfilled — no matter the cost.” The mechanics of this game are quite interesting to me, but I want to focus on one specific design choice; everything — from a single combat to the campaign as a whole — is represented by progress tracks.

As Edmund entered Moulde Hall, Ung stepped forward to address Mrs. Kippling. “Matron’s guests have all decided to have their meals in their rooms.” Mrs. Kippling’s face turned bright red as her hands began to wring themselves back and forth. “And I suppose they all think I can just fix it all up, no trouble? My gracious, I couldn’t take a tray to each of them — I have to start dinner soon!

Badger + Coyote is a GM-less dual RPG. One player plays Badger, the other Coyote. Asymmetrical in design, Badger has skills that allow them to do things in the game, such as digging, trapping, and sniffing. Coyote, on the other hand, can only spot, pounce, or make a roll to “speak” a sentence to badger, who can then respond. This is the only way that the two characters can communicate to each other.

After the War is, quote: “a tabletop science-fiction role-playing game of memetic horror. Ten years after the galactic war, millions of survivors try to rebuild on the frontier world of Polvo. They seek to guard their new homes from internal strife and the psychic fallout from the war.” This does not do justice to the horrific history that your characters have to deal with. Among After the War’s inspirations is Fiasco.

Of Grub and Grain is an RPG supplement — a minigame, if you will — about cooking. Cooking is an often overlooked aspect of RPGs, generally falling into the same pit of uninteresting chores that we would simply rather not take part in. Generally, Cooking is dealt with the same way that eating is; ignoring it completely. You ever notice how characters in RPGs never go to the bathroom? They never really “get hungry,” either.

Edmund opened his eyes to the massive form of Ung staring down at him. After a sleep brought on by trauma, it is traditional for the sleeper to take a moment to remember where they are and what has happened. Dr. Vendebirk II theorizes in his On Morpheus that this is the brain’s attempt to expunge unpleasant memories of the previous day and being entirely too enthusiastic about it. Edmund did not have this luxury.

Fate of the Budayeen is a fan-made adaptation of the Budayeen setting from George Alec Effinger’s “Marîd Audran” series to FATE, specifically FATE Accelerated. I won’t detail the adaption process here, as Mechante Anemone has already done so. Instead, I want to talk about FATE Accelerated as a system. FATE Accelerated is a hack of the Core FATE system. Like FATE Core, FATE Accelerated uses aspects to define characters, forcing them to engage with the game narratively as well as mechanically.

Into the Odd is at once an homage to and a departure from the classic RPGs of the 70s and 80s. In the game, to quote the book: “You are an Explorer, braving the unknown in search of riches, fame, knowledge and power. Most of all, you seek Arcana, strange devices hosting unnatural powers beyond technology. They range from the smallest ring to vast machines.” The system itself does a lot of very interesting things, but rather than give a full system breakdown, what I want to talk about is how Into the Odd handles stats.

Heroes of Adventure could easily be called a bit of a D&D clone, but just because it’s high-fantasy doesn’t make it a copycat. The world-building is certainly D&D-like, and your heroes can be the ubiquitous wizards, warriors, rangers, thieves, and clerics; but the system uses a die-size system instead of a flat d20 system. Spells are limited through schools, rather than classes: if you learn Air magic, you can cast Air spells, no matter if you are a cleric, druid, or magi.

The Moulde estate, Edmund learned later, was everything on top of and inside of Haggard Hill, in the northern part of the Squatling district. Haggard Hill itself was a full twenty acres of hill covered with old trees, tired grass, and a sagging old gazebo with peeling white paint, all surrounded by thorny hedges and a sharp wrought-iron fence. The heavy black gate cautioned MOULDE HALL in a sharp and spidery lettering, and was framed by statues of two large ravens, their eyes sharp and beaks terrible.