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Friday, 23 August 2019

It's in the trees

I've shown you this before, sort of. While working on a book I like to print up prototype versions rather than read the text on-screen. The upside is it provides a different perspective. The downside is that by the time the print company gets the book to me, often I've changed most of it.

I prepared these two copies of the Jewelspider RPG (2nd edition Dragon Warriors, if you prefer) so that my group could start playtesting the rules. I'm sorry to say the finished book probably won't have Jon Hodgson art -- I don't have the money to pay him, and if I did I'd spend it on Mirabilis -- but for private use around the gaming table I can indulge my wildest dreams. And I really wanted to have a proper look at that gorgeous Players Guide artwork without the book title inexplicably covering up half the image.

Some people have asked about the new rules. Details are still changing week by week, but the core of the system seems pretty solid now. There are eight abilities, ranging from 2 to 18, which determine your chance of succeeding in any action. There are also four qualities, ranging from -3 to +3,which don't affect your chance of success but rather your degree of success. So if you attempt an action using Agility (ride, dodge, climb, etc) or Dexterity (shoot, cut a purse, pick a lock, etc) then having a positive score in the Graceful quality would make any successful roll more effective.

There are also masteries, ranging from 0 to 6, which give the character more control over how they use their abilities for actions relevant to that mastery. Mastery in swordplay, for example, lets you finesse your Dexterity rolls when attacking or parrying with a sword. The way a mastery works is that you can trade off chance of success against degree of success, up to your level in that mastery.

The system is designed for ad hoc play. Any action you want to attempt will be governed by one of the eight abilities, and masteries can be extemporized too.

That's not quite all. There are two very rare qualities, Holy and Fey, that can be unlocked and give access to actions that ordinary people can't attempt. You can't have both at once, of course, and Fey doesn't necessarily indicate faerie blood, it's just the Jewelspider equivalent of DW's Psychic Talent.

When will all this be available to the public? I'm currently running a short campaign with junkable characters. Then Oliver Johnson is planning to run a Jewelspider campaign through through the autumn, and Tim Harford will hopefully give the rules a spin in one of his eagerly-awaited Christmas specials, and then I'll go back and revise the whole caboodle in light of my players' comments. So not till next spring, at the earliest. But, as you know, nothing's forgotten and it's coming.

Friday, 16 August 2019

Get real

The realism versus playability debate has been going on for decades. Which is odd, because there aren’t really any games that err by being too playable. I can cite lots that are too realistic, though. There was the CRPG where you had to remember to restock on shoe leather. If you didn’t, your character would go “Ow!” every so often and lose a hit point. A long journey could kill you before you even got to the dungeon.

The same debate occurred long ago in movies and TV – although there it was “realism vs enjoyment”. Thankfully, the realists were beaten back into a tiny corner. Other than 12-hour Andy Warhol epics watching a flag flap on the side of the Empire State Building, visual narrative is free of realism. Arnie says, “Let’s go to Cairo,” and – alakazam! – there he is.

The guys at Pyro got it right when they talked about narrative games (like CRPGs) involving a contract with the player. It’s what happens all the time in movies when there’s a flashback. Sixty years ago, audiences needed a wash dissolve to believe it. Now you can play around with time using just an ordinary cut.

Why have realism at all? Well, take an example I used when designing my RTS Warrior Kings. Without any rules for supply in such a game, conquest works like infection. You can take a single worker behind enemy lines and build a massive base to attack from. That will lead to some pretty odd strategies if the game is set in the Trojan Wars.

But you don’t want real realism. Full-on true-to-life supply line rules can so easily lead to a player struggling against the game rather than against the other players. So you need to find a way that rewards the player if he does it right, but still allows him to ignore supply lines if he wants. One way to do that is to have injured characters automatically recover hit points if they’re in supply, for example, which is how I had it work in Warrior Kings. The player doesn't have to micromanage supplies, but they do get a bonus for not letting a force get cut off behind enemy lines.

Still, games aren’t movies. The whole point of a game is to give the player a hands-on experience. And sometimes that experience might be of inevitability. I played a wargame of the Cuban revolution. The government player couldn’t possibly win (Michael Corleone was right) but it was fun to see why they couldn't. Only games can do this. Which is why the debate will rage on. And there will always be a case to be made – even for shoe leather.

Friday, 2 August 2019

Rune blades

This was an early piece that I wrote for White Dwarf (issue 39, March 1983). Evidently I'd already been asked to work on Questworld. Most of these magic swords later found a home in Dragon Warriors, but to do them full justice you really need to include the Rune associations. Looking at it again 35 years on, I was struck by the reference to "humanists". Does that mean the Renaissance kind, or modern humanism? Seems a little anachronistic given that Greg Stafford's Genertela (always cracks me up; at times my sense of humour is quite puerile) is a Bronze Age world filled with quite irrefutable spirits and deities, but obviously it made sense at the time.

The pillars of any RuneQuest universe, more fundamental than the gods who make use of them, are the Runes themselves. Many non-theistic cults on both Questworld and Glorantha strive to interact directly with the Runes and to use their power to shape the world around them. Even some of the more familiar religions can be interpreted this way. The Black Fang Brotherhood involves shamanistic worship of the Death Rune, while Kralori philosophers would be able to see the gods (especially those, such as Humakt, linked almost exclusively to one Rune) as mankind's anthropomorphised view of the powers and workings of the Runes in nature.

The consequence of this philosophy is a reversal of the individual cult member's approach to the world: he doesn't necessarily behave according to certain rules simply because 'the god wills it', but accepts responsibility for his own actions and ethics, and associated himself with the Rune or Runes which embody his own philosophy. For example, a humanist Knight of western Genertela might wear the Death Rune on his shield in the same way that a Humakti would, but with a quite different feeling and personal philosophy behind this.

By focussing on the Runes, the Wizards of such a cult acquire the ability to channel their power and so create magical artifacts. In a world where many cults have to fight for their existence, the creation of magic weaponry is of obvious importance; this is what will be covered here.

Rune weapons are usually swords, created by the priests of a Rune cult for use by the cult champion. The priests gather and together perform the rituals while permanently sacrificing some of their POW to enchant the sword. The Ritual of Enchantment is a skill (see below), and each priest must make his roll in this skill or the POW he contributes is wasted. If any one of the priests fumbles then the entire ritual is disrupted and all the POW is lost to no effect. (This can create really bad blood among the other cultists!) The ritual requires 30 points of POW to be successfully relinquished in order to enchant the sword.
The Ritual of Enchantment skill is learned at the rate 750/1000/ 2000/3500, though it would be common practice inmost cults for the priests/wizards who had mastered it to give free instruction to the others. Rune weapons can have any ability, limited only by the imagination of those who create them and the power of the Rune involved. The more common types are listed here.

Volcanic Sword
The sword is tied to the Fire Rune. Whenever needed, its blade will rise in temperature to red-heat within seconds. This effect does not damage the blade itself. Any damage that penetrates armour is doubled.
Example: Lord Balin of Dorgoth is fighting a cave troll. He hits the creature with his iron volcanic sword and rolls 5 on the damage dice, of which 2 points penetrate its skin. In addition to the 2 points, the troll takes an extra +2 from the heat of the blade. (In this case, being a troll, it also takes another +2 just because the sword is made of iron).
Fireblade cast on such a weapon will not add to the damage done but will merely convert it to doing 3d6 damage for the duration of the spell.

Blades of this type are commonly shortswords, created for use by Death Rune cult assassins. The weapon does normal damage, but is kept supernaturally sharp and cuts easily through armour. The amount of damage the armour would normally absorb is halved (round fractions up). Magical protections such as shield are not affected.

Severblades can be enhanced by bladesharp, but will temporarily be converted to normal 3d6 weapons by fireblade.

The most common of several Mobility Rune weapons, the blurblade moves with dazzling speed. The wielder of a blurblade always hits with it at Strike Rank 1 (even if he or she had it sheathed at the start of the round), and opponents subtract 05% from their chance of parrying. If the opponent is unaware of the sword's ability, he will be automatically surprised on the first attack and his parry chance will be halved.

Created by Air Rune cults, a sword of this type allows its user to summon storms once a day. The storm will muster within one minute and will then last for up to fifteen minutes. The main force of the storm is concentrated to a zone 160m around the sword; within this zone, visibility drops to 6m, all movement is halved, normal communication is impossible and flying creatures must roll DEXx5 each round or be buffeted helplessly by the winds. There is a clear zone (the eye of the storm) for 3m around the sword. While the storm rages, the user can cast lightning bolts from the tip of the sword at the rate of one every five melee rounds. These bolts leap for 1-8 beings within 16m, with a 60% chance of hitting. If the target has a Defence, this will count. A bolt that hits deals the target 1-4 blows for 1d8 damage each; armour gives half normal protection.

The Darkness Rune is another favourite with assassins. Night-blades give their user the ability to see in darkness, to Hide in Shadows at +30%, and to create a globe of darkness 3m across around himself at any time. Shades will not attack the wielder of a nightblade.

Deriving its power from the Magic Rune, this sword acts as a variable matrix for any battle magic spell up to 4 points. That is, the user can cast any such spell with the sword (and his own POW). It takes one full turn (five minutes) for the sword to switch from one spell to another.

Fortress Sword
Weapons of this type, tied to the Stasis Rune, protect their user by enhancing his chance to parry. 30% is added to the user's parry ability, but this concentration on defence reduces his attack chance by 10%.

Vigor Sword
This is another common Mobility cult weapon. Essentially it is the opposite of the Fortress Sword mentioned above. In this case the sword impairs its user's parries by the ferocity of its attacks, ie +30% to user's attack and -10% from his parry.

Vorpal Blade
Through its Fate Rune powers, the Vorpal Sword has a knack of finding openings in an opponent's guard. If the attack roll is half (or less) of what the sword's user needed then he can specify where he's hitting his opponent.
Example: Ericre Bloothaux has a shortsword with a Vorpal Blade. In combat with a dream dragon, Ericre rolls a 13 for his attack. With his shortsword skill of 70% this is not only an opportunity to hit the dragon wherever he wants, but also happens to be an impaling blow. 16 points in the head puts the creature down, and Ericre is forced to admit that the line dividing Fate from Luck is often a fine one.
For arcane symbolic reasons, Chillblades (created, of course, by Ice Rune cults) are always impaling weapons. Any damage an opponent takes from the icy blade of the weapon is matched against his CON on the Resistance Table. If the roll is successful, the victim takes damage to his CON (as with systemic poison) and suffers -2 from STR and DEX for ten melee rounds. An unsuccessful roll simply means that the victim takes an extra 50% damage in the area hit.
Example: Archos the Lame is hit for 4 points in the arm by an enemy's chillblade. Matching 04 against Archos' CON of 11 gives a 15% chance that he will also take 4 points of CON damage. Archos' foe rolls a 82, however, so the only effect of the chillblacle is an extra 2 points of damage in Archos' arm.
Chaos Knife
The name is euphemistic; Chaos 'knives' are often greatswords. The effect of the weapon is simply to bestow the user with a random Chaotic feature, different each time he draws it.

Vortex Sword
The Vortex Sword, or nullblade, is the rarest of all these rare weapons, being connected with the ancient Void Rune of Questworld. Its powers absorb and annihilate magic. Any spell cast at, by or on the user is reduced by 6 POW points: a countermagic 8 becomes a countermagic 2. Non-variable spells are rendered ineffective if reduced below their minimum POW by the sword's powers. Remember that Rune magic is twice the strength of battle magic, so that a shield 4 cast on the user would count as shield 1.

The secondary effect of the Vortex Sword is still more terrible: anyone slain by it is utterly annihilated by being drawn into the Void, and cannot be resurrected.

Final points
Once the Rune weapon is created, the cult champion (or whoever is going to use it) must sacrifice one point of characteristic POW in order to attune it. Having done this, he cannot attune a magic crystal until and unless he relinquishes use of the Rune weapon.

Rune weapons are very, very rarely found as treasure. Having cost the cult wizards at least 30 points of POW between them, the weapon is not going to be allowed to lie in some treasure hoard somewhere. The exception to this is when the cult champion was killed in the middle of the quest and the cult found it too difficult or dangerous to retrieve the weapon. In this case, whatever killed the champion may be hanging around where the weapon fell, ready to fight anyone else who'd like to own it.

Anyone who manages to get hold of a Rune cult weapon will be able to use it by attuning it as above, so long as they are members of a cult incorporating the appropriate Rune.

A couple of notes on the use of Rune weapons in campaigns. First, do not sprinkle them around too freely. Remember that it takes quite a powerful cult to make such a weapon – at least ten priests or wizards at say 95% in the Ritual of Enchantment and prepared to reduce their characteristics POW from 21 to 18. Such a cult would presumably have a highly skilled champion (perhaps one of the wizards?) who would be more than a match for a few player characters. Even if the cult lost the weapon, it would tend to end up in the hands of a powerful character who would do his best to hang onto it. Secondly, Rune weapons will almost be made of iron and will thus require the use of Divine Intervention to allow the casting of spells while holding them.

Rune weapons are intended as special items for full campaigns. Initiate-level player characters who found one could use it for the rest of the adventure and would then be well advised to hand it over to their own cult (in exchange for goodwill and a rich reward) rather than become a target for the most powerful treasure-seeking adventurers in the land!

Friday, 19 July 2019

"Turned To Stone" (scenario)

I often find myself thinking of role-playing campaigns as akin to seasons of a TV drama. Like any comparison it only goes so far, but typically you’ve got one or more big events growing in the background and then each session there’s often a problem that gets wrapped up neatly in an evening or two.

This scenario was one of those monster-of-the week episodes in our Immortal Spartans campaign. The Highlander-type concept allows us to zip through history, and in this case it was 878 AD and the player-characters were on their way from Constantinople to Wessex. I know what you’re thinking, and they did meet King Alfred, but that wasn’t the reason for the trip. They had to deal with a time-travelling weaponized AI that crash-landed in Mercia pursued by other factions in a future war and had ended up allying itself with a Welsh priest called Frych. Highlander meets Terminator meets 12 Monkeys sort of thing.

Anyway, en route they put in at Pylos, on the west coast of the Peloponnese and this is one of those single-session scenarios I mentioned. Its particular significance to the Spartans was that it had been the scene of a notorious defeat by the Athenians in 425 BC, so there were some old demons festering away there.


The characters put in at Pylos (west coast of the Doric peninsula) for re-supply. Note on the map that modern Pylos is on the mainland, and the site marked Pylos to the north is the ruins of the classical city.

They are met by Dioscorus, a local representative who takes them to their lodgings (his house) where they are soon visited by Brother Bruno (see below) and the Governor’s servant Mikos.

The governor of Pylos is an Italian, Malvio Buonarotti. He is concerned for his son, Joffredo Buonarotti, who lies paralyzed (a kind of sleeping sickness) because of an encounter with “the Gorgon” on Sphacteria, where he had swum on a dare from his friend Festus Kontostephanos, son of Lord Falkon, Controller of the Port Authority.

Joffredo is being attended by Brother Bruno and some lay brothers from the local monastery of St Cyriacus. Drops are administered to his eyes, which are open but unseeing. Brother Bruno believes “ossification is setting in; it would be well if His Eminence the Cardinal would say a benediction.”

Unlike the Governor, the monks believe in the Gorgon and say it settled here attracted by the blood of heroes, and to feast on their bones.

How long has the Gorgon been here? The local legend is that she originally inhabited the ruined temple of Artemis on Corfu, but that Pope Nicholas I exorcized her by cock-crow on his visit to the island in 860 AD, and that her spirit fled aboard a ship whose crew were all found turned to stone when it drifted into Pylos harbour.

The “Gorgon” is really a psionic with acromegaly, shunned by others so she fled to the island twelve years ago. She is inarticulate and somewhat mad, and would prefer to be left in peace, but if harassed will respond aggressively.

She can effectively turn invisible (using psionic power to achieve Stealth 30) and then unveil her face to her chosen victim. If two characters attack her at once, let them both roll, then resolve those attacks against each other. This is the power of confusion that she can exert, but after the first time characters get a Will roll to resist it.

Her first action is to wait until the characters have climbed up the island a way, then sink their boat and/or paralyze the boatmen.

If she is killed, that does nothing to help Joffredo - at least, it didn't in my game; you might decide to be more lenient. (And incidentally he is of course not turning to stone, whatever the superstitious Brother Bruno thinks.) 

Among various trinkets of no real value (threaded seashells, etc) she wears an old scratched-up amulet of Artemis Orthia, probably of Spartan origin. On the back, an acronym that stands as an abbreviation of a common Spartan proverb: “Your own hand use when Fortune you would call.”

Also on the island are low stone walls that may be the remains of the Spartan fort here. If they search around, Observation at -5 to spot a shield buried among the stones. On the back of it is scratched a prayer to Aidos, the aspect of Aphrodite dedicated to shame and modesty:
“Goddess, let me face injustice with the same disregard as danger,
Let me face dishonour with the calm I would meet death;
Allow my best actions to endure after I have fallen;
Though Man is mortal, smile forever on Sparta’s halls.”

Friday, 12 July 2019

"Yes, I include roleplaying games in art!"

These days, if you want to get your work out there, you have to plunge into the world of social media. Recently I remarked how polluting and disappointing that experience often feels, and somebody said, "Hell is other people." But that's not it. I like people -- that is, in real life I like them. Some of my friends (OK, not many, but a few) support Trump and deny climate change, and I even like them, because in real life they're also warm, funny, provocative, caring, interesting, infuriating. All the things people are supposed to be.

But humans in other situations don't always come across so well. Driving on the motorway, for example. And you might say the arseholes who tailgate and make V-signs are just the vile minority, and I'm sure that's true of many of them. But I'm just as sure that many dangerously zig-zagging road ragers get out of the car at the end of the journey and promptly turn into perfectly nice people.

I used to commute out to Woking. At Waterloo, at the end of a long week, passengers would be scowling, snarling, barging past others in their haste to get on. Manners were in short supply. But those same people, getting off the train half an hour later, would be smiling, holding doors for each other, saying sorry if they bumped into you. Circumstances change us.

Somebody with a beer or a book in his or her hand can be pleasant company. Give them a pitchfork and a burning torch and you've got the makings of an angry mob. Social media too often works as the latter. So I liked this video by James "Grim Jim" Desborough because he absolutely nails what I think about all the intolerance, cult-justice and groupthink that sloshes around the internet. Or maybe it's just because I've always had a soft spot for a blistering full-on rant.

And for another take on games (computer games this time) as an art form, here's Ernest W Adams.

Tuesday, 9 July 2019

Lasciate ogne speranza

Edizioni Librarsi, who are the publishers of the Italian editions of Blood Sword and Fabled Lands, have revealed Mattia Simone's breathtaking cover for Cuore di Ghiaccio (aka Heart of Ice, as if you didn't know).
At last you see a streak of dark rubble against the dazzling skyline. You fear it might just be a line of hills or even a trick of the light, but as you approach on quickened footsteps it is possible to make out the details of brooding towers, empty palaces and gargantuan snow-bound walls. You have arrived at the lost city of Du-En.
You can find the English edition here or, if you're so hard up that you can't toss a few shekels to a starving writer, why not try Benjamin Fox's online version here? (And if you enjoy it, and can find the time to write an Amazon review, it all helps.)

Friday, 28 June 2019

How to roleplay

Paul Mason is famous in roleplaying circles as one of the uber-fans involved with Dragonlords and as the editor of the superb if infrequent imazine, in which he treated us to a stellar series of articles and reviews in his inimitably trenchant and thought-provoking style. He was also for many years one of my Tekumel players and has written Outlaws, a great but so far unpublished RPG of the heroes of Liangshan Po, which I used as the basis of my (also unpublished) Heian Japan roleplaying game, Kwaidan.

These days Paul is too busy with his academic career in Japan to do much roleplaying, but the last time he was over in Britain I asked if he wouldn’t mind me running some of his articles as guest posts, and he gave a kind of oblique permission. That is, he looked at me with an expression that was more 'are you serious?' than 'don’t you dare'.

This piece might strike you as very basic stuff if you’re a roleplayer – but hey, I’ve been roleplaying since the mid-70s and I found it useful. Remember that once you reach 10th Dan you go back to wearing a white belt. Nobody should ever think they’re anything but a novice. Take it away, Paul...

In a role-playing game the rules are details: they are the trees from which part of the wood is composed. So let’s consider a different approach to writing rules for role-playing games. Let’s try to look at the wood.

The purpose of this game is to take part in a story. The story isn’t told by anyone, but is built up from the improvised contributions of all the participants. See the sample for an idea of how this works.

how to play
The game creates a story. Participants in the game all play a part in creating the story, by making contributions. The goal of the game is to make it as easy as possible for participants to act or describe their improvised contributions to the game without spoiling the sense of immersion.

There are two basic types of participants in the game. Players are a little like actors. They will usually act the life of a single person: their character. The referee is more like a director. The referee describes sensory information in the story, and may occasionally act other characters in the story, as needed.

A participant who contributes to the game by acting does so by saying what their character is trying to do. So in the sample, Fred says: ‘I climb up the gantry to the deck above.’ If you like, when this action is speech, the participant can act the speech by actually speaking as the character. So later in the sample, when Fred says ‘Set it to stun!’ he’s actually saying what his character is saying. In some cases you might need to check which it is, but usually it will be obvious. Two or more participants can thus act the roles of their characters, conducting a conversation which forms part of the story.

Anything which is acted by a participant takes place as described, unless it is challenged by another participant (usually this is the job of the referee, but other players may also challenge if they like). A participant whose action has been challenged must prove that the character could succeed. To do this, they need to use an agreed game mechanic (such as Outlaws Light, presented in imazine #33). An example of a game mechanic is that you must roll 9 or less on two dice to hit with your phaser. Really skilled characters like Worf need an 11 or less. Other Klingons need 7 or less.

Some complex interactions, such as fights, often involve continual implied challenges, and therefore may require a lot of use of mechanics. Other actions, if they seem reasonable given the character and the story, can pass unchallenged.

A participant who contributes to the game by describing does so by talking about something accessible to the senses of characters in the game. This is usually the job of the referee, but players may also occasionally describe things connected with their characters. So in the sample, Sam describes what the players can see once they have climbed the gantry, and what they can feel.

Descriptions, like actions, can be challenged. They shouldn’t be contradicted outright, but senses can be mistaken! A player who describes a scene is speaking only for their character, and other players, or the referee, may perceive things differently. Note that the referee is privileged in description: because they speak for ‘everybody’ a player who challenges a referee’s description is simply describing what their own character perceives, and not what anyone else does.

Obviously, not everything needs to be described, and referees should beware of trying to act events in the story in the guise of description! For example, if Sam in the sample goes on to say ‘When you walk on to the transporter pad, there is an explosion’ this is wrong, because the players haven’t yet said that they are acting by walking on to the transporter pad. Remember, you’re not telling a story by crafting it authorially, you’re creating one by inhabiting it.

There are no fixed rules governing how and when you can contribute to a story, but there are some obvious guidelines that should be followed. The most important is: take your cues from the story. If you act something your character is doing tomorrow, then everyone else’s actions today will have to be done in flashbacks. This will be difficult, and may even cause a contradiction with what you acted about tomorrow. Challenging other player characters, or getting into conflicts with them, is fine, but blocking the story itself is generally bad form.

A typical sequence of contributions will be:
  • Referee describes the situation facing the player characters, and/or uses a character to act a stimulus.
  • Players respond by acting their character’s reaction. There’s no fixed order to this, but if a player feels that their character should be able to act first, they always have recourse to a challenge.
  • Participants respond to the actions. This may lead to further description—the referee, or a player, may describe the result of actions.
  • Out of all these contributions, a sequence of events will soon be evident. This is the story.
Even in your own mind, separate Action from Description. At first it’s tempting to think that your character could do absolutely anything, but soon you find that the limitations are what create drama. Maybe you can’t leap that chasm, maybe you’re not fast enough to outrun the fireball. Maybe the Ferengi saw you pick his pocket. Sometimes you should challenge yourself, not wait for other players to do it.

Time for the characters in the story does not pass at the same rate as it does for the players. At times, it will pass very slowly, if you’re working out something that doesn’t take long, but needs to be explained in detail. At other times, it will pass very quickly, as with a long journey in which nothing much happens. As with most things in the game, time can be skipped over, subject to challenge by any of the other participants.

There are no rules to cover winning. Players can decide on their own ideas of what constitutes winning. However, they may find that other players don’t agree with them. So how do you win? Well, how does a character win in a story?

The game takes place in game sessions. A game session is when the participants get together to play the game. It can end at any time that is convenient for the participants. The end of a game session doesn’t mean the end of a story. The story can continue in the next session. A story only ends when everyone agrees that it’s finished, and you start a new one, or when you stop playing the game entirely!

Thanks to Dave Morris for providing comments and useful examples based on Star Trek. In writing this, I’ve been particularly inspired by all those games which have started with some vague waffle about how role-playing is like improvisational radio theatre, have followed it with a sample dialogue, without any explanation as to how and why people said what they did, and then plunged straight into tables of character generation. I’m also indebted to my own players, half of whom were complete beginners.

- Paul Mason