I'd been feeling like playing The Clay That Woke for a while, so I took it to Spelens Hus. It's also Nate's fault. I hadn't planned to attend that week, but as it happened, several people showed up hoping I'd be there, so I got a message. I answered back with "traditional or weird?" and Nate said "weird," so this is what I grabbed.
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This is where we do what we do! We celebrate our experiences with table-top role-playing games. Here are the ones I'm playing right now:
What are you playing? What do you see when you read the posts here? Comment at any post you like, or use the big green Start a Topic button at the top right of this page. People often include video or audio recordings of play, but text-only is fine too. Please feel free to attach documents, like maps or character sheets or brief sections of the rules you're using.
I trust you to work out how you want to talk about your games: just for fun, sharing & comparison, critique, or whatever. Please check out my best-practices manual for suggestions, but it's really flexible.
If you already do a podcast or other actual-play series, live or not, please consider yourself invited to embed a link as a topic.
For games in design, i.e., playtesting - yes, go right ahead, that's welcome too. For consulting sessions with me, which is different, see the Consulting page.
We are seventeen sessions into Legendary Lives. It is at least possible that this is a lifetime record for the game, which received mainly demonstration convention play during its initial promotion and release.
A bit unfairly, this is the last game played during the two-pal pow visit, after Jared had left for home and Simon and I had a bit more time. We'd been talking about French games, as he'd just visited there to investigate the crazy-indie design scene, and he had a bag full of weirdness. One of them seemed just right for the atmosphere at the moment, so here it is, Happy Together by Gaël Sacré.
I invited my old friend Jared Sorensen, a.k.a. Memento Mori Theatrics, over to Sweden for a late-autumn getaway - and also to meet my new friend Simon Pettersson, a.k.a. (part of) Urverk Speldesign. The plan was a few days of unbridled RPG discourse, RPG play, unconstructed conversation, kid-wrangling, and meeting with some local players too. It worked!
I got over a mental block and managed to say "this game's done!" in design terms at least, so it was time to introduce Cosmic Zap to some intrigued people at Spelens Hus.
I've started a conversation with Ron in the comments of a Seminary post and he suggested to bring the subject to its own post.
A small foreword: Ron suggested I use this chance to talk about a game I'm working on (and as, he correctly points out, I can't seem to stop talking about it) but I wanted to start from an example of actual play (from a 2015 D&D4 game) that encapsulates very well a few of the things we touched upon in that discussion.
On Sunday, October 27th, we finally beat my schedule's cruel tactics and were able to play Circle of Hands again.
I have to say that I am finding each return to the Crescent Land with a character to play has very satisfying.
I’ve always been one of those role players who hates any laptops/smartphones at the table when we game. I see them as distracting & therefore damaging to the immersion we seek. Gaming online right now (which we finally decided to try since returning to gaming & 2 of my gaming friends are not in my town) sucks compared to all-in-the-same-room sessions.
I've played a whole lot of Trollbabe at Spelens Hus, so far with three sessions and five players, although not all of the latter at once. There isn't too much to say! Everything has been berserk and fun and gory and funny and heroic, the whole time.
There's an enthusiastic bunch at Spelens Hus here! They were even up for a late-night Zombie Cinema game, sight unseen, "Ron has it in his bag? Sure, let's try it." The game is maxed at six players and I was turning people away.
The result was an extremely energetic session, occasionally shouty, with vivid characters and plenty of confrontational or reconciliatory moments.