d1 RPG is a joke, right? Of course it’s a joke. Reading the rules makes it abundantly clear that this is a bit of a spoof. A parody what it means to play an RPG.
Isn’t it?
I mean, it has charts! Table A tells you the results of each side of your d1: if you roll a 1, your action succeeds. That’s it. No failures, no complications, nothing but success.
Black rain was still falling on Moulde Hall as Edmund walked briskly through the winding halls towards his room.
Once Tricknee had showed up, the evening had fallen remarkably quiet save for the loud slurping of soup. When the mansion finally tolled seven, everyone made weak excuses and left to return to their rooms or walk about the grounds, until it was just Tricknee and Edmund who sat at the table. Edmund didn’t remain long.
Parselings has a early millennium action-webcomic aesthetic and tone, where players take on the role of the titular Parselings; ordinary folk who have become infected with strange ink-like entities that bond with their hosts and tattoo words on their bodies. Caught between humanity and dark linguistic monstrosities, the Parselings use the magic of these words to heal or harm the infected world.
The world of Parselings is deeply thematic, drawing on ideas of mutual aid, internal versus external definition, freedom versus self-control, and the complexities of communication when others may have already labeled you differently than you label yourself.
Knave is an OSR (Old Style Ruleset, Old School Renaissance, or Old System Revival — I’ve seen them all) RPG. OSR games hearken back to the olden days of dungeon delving and hack n’ slashing. A system without a pre-built world, Knave is designed to be modular and adaptable to any compatible systems, bestiaries, spellbooks, and adventures.
There is a long and detailed history of OSR gaming, and I won’t go into that now. For now, I want to talk about dice.
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. Like Fiasco, the game proscribes a slightly more regimented method of finding out what happens next, apart from the more laissez-faire method of most RPGs.
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. Oh, they eat of course, but only whenever there’s a plot-important reason to do so. If a player suddenly decides its lunchtime and goes to the local tavern, you better believe a quest-hook is going to be drinking in the corner.
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. Every hour the deafening chime of the clock bell had snapped him awake, both reminding him of his present condition and keeping him from such deep respite.
