Tabletop RPGs in 2024 - Everything but D&D

Reading through the Crown & Skull pdf and I think I’ve run into a pretty obvious shortcoming. The game uses some mechanics that are completely alien to most D20 tabletop RPG vets - an aspect of Crown & Skull that the author admits is going to be challenging.

The system here will prove a significant departure from the deeply ingrained
‘D20’ genre that has seen such meteoric growth in recent years. As such,
settle in for a brain-tickling ride into new mindsets and methods. If you feel
a bit challenged by the player-focused aspects of the system, that means
you’re in the sweet spot. This may be that long-overdue moment you and
your group break into new territory.

But then, he neglects to include any examples of play in the text! Hey man, you admit it’s challenging stuff. How about a clear demo of that combat and really show me how Phases work? How about some guidance on how to create spells beyond just “go for it” and hash out any issues later? Some ready-made spells that go beyond the touch-only default range, maybe? How about a walk-through on what it’s like to GM one of the “mapless” locations? Maybe write an example of how to progress a character?

I dunno. I’m hoping some of this stuff shakes out easily in play, but it almost feels like the tendency for video game devs to push off tutorials and instructions to the community via YT vids is creeping into the tabletop world. Not a fan.

Also, I’m just not into the no roll to-hit that seems to be the hot new thing in a lot of recent TTRPGs. I understand that from a mechanical aspect to-hit is just a timer that depends on dice statistical probability to measure out increments and that shifting that timer all the way over to damage doesn’t change the outcome much at all, but removing to-hit just feels wrong to me. It’s my old-school nature kicking in, but I want that swing. I want near misses and triumphant against-all-odds hits.

That is too bad. I agree with you, examples of play are really grounding. I’m loving how much focus they have in Mythic Bastionland. There’s a bunch of examples of play followed by further writer commentary on the example. Here’s an example of one. I think this is going to end up being a trend going forward, but that might just be hopeful optimism. I feel like I’ve seen a lot of appreciations for examples of play in blogs in the last year.

I’m fully the opposite on this. After playing Into the Odd I just don’t think I can go back to roll to hit. If a game is roll to hit, I’m probably going to try and hack it out. The immediacy and intensity of the damage roll just feels so good!

We’ll probably try it out this weekend or next. I’m hoping this can win me over, but based on my past experience with other games that have gone this route for combat streamlining, I doubt it. The mechanic just doesn’t seem to be my bag.

Humble Bundle has an offer for a bunch of old and new Cyberpunk TTRPG books.

I got my physical copy of Crown & Skull. It’s a great looking book. I’ve always liked the A5 format for TTRPGs.

Unfortunately, I don’t know if I’ll ever even try to run this as a game with other people. The more I read it, the more it really doesn’t click with me. There’s a lot here that seems like it was either not playtested, or it was playtested by the author’s buddies who never criticized anything the author proposed.

Here’s a standard skill that anyone can take on character creation:

Courtier: Roll to outwit bureaucrats or royalty.

Here’s a Crown skill that’s only available to higher-level characters after they’ve accumulated at least 25 Hero Points (basically XP) and sworn fealty to the forces of law and order.

Court: With this skill, argue, dominate, or placate the highest-ranking folk.

What’s the difference? Why would I choose the high-level skill over the common one?

These are skills that have no mechanical explanation:

Fire Snap: Snap your fingers to quadruple an open flame you can see.

What does this mean in game terms? Can the player create a hellish conflagration from a match flame by snapping their fingers repeatedly? Is there a limit?

Ancestor: Call the phantom of long-dead kin to fight at your side.

What abilities does this ghostly ally have? How does that fight work? (The book offers no way to adjudicate combat between NPCs besides the GM just winging it.) How long do they stay? Can you just have a ghost buddy all the time?

Here’s a couple of examples of magic items with no mechanical detail:

King’s Plate: Lesser undead cannot touch this plate armor

Does this mean you’re effectively immune from all melee attacks from zombies? What exactly is a “lesser undead” anyway? That’s not defined anywhere.

Night Hood: In moonlight, you are all but invisible

Are you? What does that confer in game terms?

Even the foundational rules seem a bit too vague for me. Take basic Attrition. Instead of taking some kind of hit point damage, you cross off skills or equipment and can’t use them until they’re repaired or healed later. Cool. It’s not the first game to do something like this.

You’re supposed to roleplay reasons why things get crossed out temporarily. For example, if you lose your Jump skill maybe that’s because your ankle got twisted in the fight, or if you lose your Medical skill you could say you got bonked on the head hard enough to make recalling proper treatments difficult.

In practice that causes some roleplay issues though. What kind of combat damage makes you lose access to your Medical skill but not Animal Training or Gambling? What blanks out general Knowledge but not Investigate? I know a stroke or a concussion can do these things, but then you’ve got a CTE ward of characters with multiple strokes and concussions fumbling through the dungeon. It’s goofy.

And the “mapless locations” suck. They’re just proc-gen tables for dungeons and ruins with a TON of repetition since they only have like 4 entries per area and you’re supposed to just keep repeating entries until an exit is rolled. No thank you.

Finally, and I know this is a total old man D&D thing, but there are no rules for PCs fighting one another. I know, I know. The PCs are supposed to be cooperating and should never succumb to infighting. Bah humbug! But here, there’s literally no way to do it. PCs don’t roll to hit and their DEF (armor) doesn’t work the way the monsters’ DEF stat works. (A monster’s/NPC’s DEF is subtracted from the PC’s attack damage roll, but a PC’s DEF is basically a dodge roll against a monster’s attack so it’s typically much higher than a monster’s DEF.) If two PCs went at it, I’d have no way to adjudicate that other than flipping a coin.

Maybe the answers you seek are in Volume 2?

I would give Crown & Skill a pass for the reasons you illuminate. I think I generally do want those extra sort of details. Where the RPG authors provide info, I need enough to give definition to their intentions. Details serve as valuable points of reference that I can create around.

Has anyone played that Wildsea game that was on the Quinns Quest show? It sounded like a reskinning of Blades In The Dark, like Scum and Villainy, but wasn’t directly related to BitD.

First, the awesome Quinn’s Quest video:

To your question:

I’ve played and run it a handful of times and am joining a 2-3-month-long campaign of it in a couple of weeks. Backed the original Kickstarter because a good friend’s son did the soundtrack for the game (go Liam!) and got sucked in by the gorgeous art, fabulous mechanics, and really, really incredible community on the creator, Felix Isaacs’s, Discord server. Got to meet and hang out with Felix and their lead playtester Ric at Gen Con over the last couple of years, as well; they’re genuinely awesome people.

The worldbuilding and just vibes of the game are absolutely spot-on and incredibly up my alley. It’s this sort of broken-yet-hopeful timbre, post-apocalypse-but-not-of-our-world-except-maybe-it-was, high action, high adventure, high emotion, high freedom setting that players are unleashed into that’s great for exploration-heavy campaigns where players drive the narrative by shooting off into the wilds in search of whatever calls to their hearts (and the book is loaded with awesome little narrative hooks to help inspire them initially).

Long story short: 300ish years ago, a great calamity known as the Verdancy occurred, and overnight, all plant life began to grow radically and unstoppably, far larger and more hardy than anything ever seen before, and within days, the entire planet was drowned beneath a sea of trees, their roots grinding up the remnants of whatever civilizations existed before. Life carried on, atop high mountain peaks barely reaching over the canopy of mile-high arboreal insanity, or on unstable “spits” of land or ancient things (e.g., naval vessels, shopping malls) that are occasionally thrust upward by a newly grown tree, or on/inside the massive trees themselves. . . except, of course, all this new plant life tends to secrete a mutagenic sap known as Crezzerin which has also rendered most wildlife unrecognizable, massive, and very, very hungry.

The survivors have mastered the art of wildsailing – building great sailing vessels that ride atop the impossibly strong branches of the trees and use insane propulsion mechanisms, like great grinding chainsaws or creeping living tendrils of metal and ghostly essence, to drive themselves through the foliage, which regrows almost immediately after the ships pass, bolstered by Crezzerin. Those brave or insane enough to take up the lifestyle act as the primary link between those isolated islands of civilization, bringing resources, fighting monsters, carrying messages, ferrying passengers, scavenging wrecks, and plumbing the depths for long-buried mysteries.

There’s this wild assortment of creative, delightful playable ancestries in the game, from human-esque Ardents who are in direct communication with the ghosts of their ancestors; to the fungal Gau who grow and reshape themselves to fit their environment: to the body-horror-rich Tzelicrae, living colonies of thousands of sapient spiders that inhabit marionette bodies woven from silk and cloth and wood; to the haunted Ironbound, hulking automatons self-assembled from the wrecks of wildsea ships that became ensouled and longed for contact after their crews died in some forgotten tragedy.

The character class options are fantastic, too, from classic options like gunslinging rangers to silver-tongued bard-analogues, to more unusual choices like mind-altering-tea-brewing Steeps to those whose minds have been warped by Crezzerin to grant them mystical abilities.

It hits a sweet spot for me, mechanically, and I’m super excited for the full version of the generic system license, Wild Words, to come out soon, as I’m thinking of using it for a couple of projects. The dice pools tend to run a little higher than Blades by default, but the GM is encouraged to “cut” dice to reflect difficulty, strenuous situations, or other environmental penalties. The cut happens after dice are rolled, removing however many of your highest rolls, which feels so painful yet is deeply fun to see a gargantuan leviathan’s armored prowess shrug off what would have been a guaranteed hit against a lesser foe, driving your result down to a more complicated “Conflict” roll (6 is pure success, 4-5 is mixed, and 1-3 is failure-but-with-interesting-forward-momentum). Rolling any doubles in your pool adds a twist to the roll: a small narrative/mechanical “oo, extra!” that other players and the GM are welcomed to suggest. The character building/damage systems are neat (I’ll go into that more in a bit), and the act of creating a ship together is such a fantastic Session 0 exercise to make a thing everyone has a stake in, collectively, to help bind the new crew together.

Oh! And then the resources system is a delight, broken down into four varieties (Specimens – organic bits harvested from plants and animals; Salvage – scrap and parts rummaged from wrecks and fallen foes; Charts – guiding maps to help navigate the ever-shifting waves of the sea; and, most interestingly, Whispers, living clumps of words that worm their way into your head and have potent but unpredictable magical effects on the world when spoken or shouted). Plenty of Skills and character abilities let you try to acquire these as you adventure around, and they can generally be traded at ports for other goods/services, combined to make novel, temporary creations, or spent to do things like aid healing, advance your character, or even assemble more-valuable resources. You’re just constantly finding neat little doodads and gewgaws to play around and experiment with as you adventure.

All that said, there are a minor handful of mechanical issues that Felix et. all are thinking of correcting or at least tweaking somewhat in a possible “starter set” box sometime this year or next, and more fully in a v2 after the third and final book, Tooth & Nail, comes out.

Mind, the current main book is genuinely all anyone would ever need to play; it is absolutely and absurdly loaded with cool, flavorful character options, super intriguing and fun enemies/dangers/diseases, and these wonderful little “Reach” vignettes that sketch out the basics of a cool biome/community but leave lots of spaces to fill in with your own details. The just-released first expansion, Storm & Root, focuses on airships and “submersible” ships meant to dive into the deepest reaches of the mile-high forest that covers the world. Tooth & Nail will focus largely on community-building, affecting the larger environment, longer-term campaign extras, etc., but is still very much in the drawing board stages.

But those little issues are just bits that have cropped up over the years. e.g., initially, Felix wanted every character option (Bloodline, races; Origins, backstories; and Posts, classes) to have a few very basic/simple Aspects for newer players to ease themselves into that system with. Aspects are the core character building blocks apart from ability scores (Edges) and skills (Skills). They represent everything from intrinsic physical traits to cool equipment to loyal companions to mystical “arconautic” powers. Like the system @Telefrog was talking about above, damage is dealt to Aspects first and foremost in the system, with far-more serious hits potentially wiping out an Aspect’s full “track” or even adding a new, debilitating Injury track to the character sheets.

Anyway, tracks are at the true core here, functioning like a wildly expanded version of Blades in the Dark’s clocks. They can track things like chase sequences, raising levels of alarm during an infiltration, or enemy HP, much like BitD, but they are also used to measure character Aspects.

Those super simple Aspects Felix included in 1.0 – stuff like, “Your character is very extremely tall,” are a bit like the mechanics-light skills mentioned above in Crown & Skull – just flavor text to be interpreted in the moment without tons of innate mechanical benefits. Sure, if being big is relevant to the action you’re taking, having that Aspect can grant you an extra die on a roll, but apart from that, it’s just “a thing that is.” Their main upshot is that they have very long tracks, so they can soak tons of damage. There are much, much richer, more complex Aspects included as well, with conditionals, pick-lists, compounding abilities, etc., but these generally have much shorter tracks, reflecting the potency of their benefits.

So, issue A) those long-track, do-not-much-at-all Aspects are just kinda boring, and don’t really ease people into the idea very well, since they’re so vague, so in the almost-certainly forthcoming boxed starter set, he’s writing up new Aspects for the core Bloodlines/Origins/Posts, all of which are the more interesting, shorter-track variety (and are totally cross-compatible with the core book Aspects – when making a character, you can pick from either or both lists).

Then, issue B), one of the core means of character advancement is cashing in your earned milestones to improve or, importantly, combine Aspects. You’re limited to a max of 7 Aspects total on your character, so mushing two of them together during downtime to free up a slot is one of the best ways to go “wide” as a character. The combined Aspects, by default, combine their track lengths, though, you see. . . so maybe one of those super specialized, potent Aspects that, say, marks its own track (ticking down how many times you can use it without healing/downtime) to activate cool powers like being able to levitate and control nearby metal, with only 2-3 boxes available, gets combined with one of those bland “You are strong” Aspects with 5-6 boxes, and suddenly you’ve got a “You are so strong you can even warp reality to fling metal objects around” Aspect with as many as 9 boxes, meaning you can suddenly use that “fling metal shit” power 3x as many times per session off of just one character upgrade (the alternative would be spending milestones to increase the original track length by. . . 1, lol).

Anyway, those little quibbles are genuinely minor, and there’s already much-improved errata-including PDFs of the core book available for those that want to evade typos and unclear rules statements. Both of the main books out now are incredible RPG resources and totally worth the purchase, though!

Wow, great writeup! So what does a typical adventure, or at least a session, look like? What is your party trying to do, generally, in the short and long term? Combat? Voyaging? Intrigue? Building up a fat stack of loot?

So, the trite answer is, “Whatever you want!” but I absolutely recognize how wildly unhelpful that is.

How to kick a session off?

One way the author suggests starting a one-shot and/or narrative arc is by asking a few “unsetting” questions of the players. “What’s an unusual festival or holiday celebrated in the port town you’re arriving at today?” “There are rumors of a strange new spit risen in the waves west of here; what have you heard about it?” That kinda thing. Open-ended, freeform. Maybe the rumors they heard about or facts they established come into play, maybe not, but it generally helps get everyone into that shared-narrative-control headspace the game encourages (there are rules for running it with more traditional D&D-style GM-as-Arbiter-of-All mechanics or for running solo or for a group entirely GM-less).

The game very much encourages a sort of Firefly-esque “roving ship taking jobs to keep itself afloat” playstyle, and the kind of jobs you take is driven by the interests and abilities of the PCs. You can start out in one of the pre-defined Reaches or make up your own (GM on their own or with player contributions), with as much or little of a ship as you’d like (there are options for being everything from Young Guns to Old Dogs at chargen).

Anyway, more likely than not, if you’re not just outright running a pre-made module (of which there are a couple of official ones already), then during ship/crew creation, you likely arrived at some core competencies/goals of the crew that can help drive the action organically – if the ship’s got a ton of laboratories, surgery rooms, deck-side gardens to grow medicinal herbs, etc., maybe you’re a traveling medical vessel seeking out the injured and providing support; if you’ve got tons of grappling hooks and extra hidden cargo space, you’re better equipped for some light piracy. That might be a good place to start the adventure, for your GM – coming up on your next big job, or pulling into port to look for one.

Characters also each pick or make up Drives – big, longterm goals or sources of joy/inspiration/motivation that, well, “drive” their adventuring – and Mires – harrowing effects of endless months spent upon a murderous, inhuman sea that do everything from lead you to drinking or cause your magical powers to warp reality around you – that help give them direction and roleplay markers beyond just “I am a cook so let’s go look for critter organs to cook.” Although that’s a totally valid option, too!

Anyway, collectively as a group, or perhaps following up on an individual’s goals/quests, you decide on A Thing To Do, or are handed one by the GM in a more structured scenario.


A common session will include space for roleplay, montages, journeys, exploration, and likely some combat. The system supports them all pretty well:

Roleplay – Hey, the classic stuff. Bopping around town, asking questions, getting quests, making enemies, finding friends, getting drunk, having emotions, the classic stuff. Or all that, but stuck aboard a ship hundreds of miles from anything with the same 6 people for months at a time and definitely no tension as a result. . .

Montages – Great for downtime or just pushing roleplay segments a little more directly, these are opportunities for characters to work on a bigger project or chew through available activities in a new area over a longer time span, choosing singular rolls to make to represent their efforts during that time. Could be a generic gathering info roll to russle up some NPCs and learn about the thing you’re trying to do, building a sick new weapon to use, healing up injuries taken on the last adventure, etc.

Journeys – When a ship sets sail, the GM secretly sets a journey track of an appropriate length, and maybe some other tracks as well (a classic example is a Mutiny track for if the undercrew you’ve hired are getting antsy and desperate to get back to port but you just keep plunging ever deeper into the wilds). The players can take turns taking on ship roles, like navigation and observation (how fast are we going? how much warning of dangers along the way do we have?). There are some great tables for random rolls to generate novel situations and moods in the book, and most published Reaches have unique tables for Journeys taking place within them. You can easily while away an entire session just dealing with a handful of randomly generated, GM-and-players-tweaked situations that crop up, like stumbling across an unexpected ruin or being beset by gigantic termites.

Exploration – Similar to the montages, tbh, and they’re recommended for this stuff, but you can also just have some classic RPG time “I walk into the room and look for traps” type stuff, albeit mediated by the more modern, fail-forward system design. The core book is loaded with wild environments and hazards to throw at players, and things like twists give them lots of opportunities to add their own little chaotic extras to any given scene.

Combat – Very theater-of-the-mind and freeform by default, though again, there are more traditionally styled GMIng rules if you prefer turn orders and such, with players evading crazy attacks and statuses, building up pools of bonuses and aid, making crazy stylish attacks, setting up cool maneuvers, using wild powers, etc. As tracks run down and injuries pile up, PCs face mire and even death, while multi-segmented tracks let GMs activate mid-battle strategic switches or scenery changes for big fights, kinda like “when Bloodied” monster abilities from D&D 4E. Not all fights are to the death, and the game suggests lots of creative ways for PCs to chip in and be useful and cool even if they’re not actively stabbing or shooting something. And once the fight wraps up, of course, it’s time to harvest all the best bits from whatever, or whoever, you took out. . .

Exploration, probably, though personally I find utterly alien worlds where absolutely nothing maps to established standards utterly tiresome to work with.

Relationships and Romance? My brothers in GMing, I’m all for funky frivolous furry frolics, but a sack of spiders puppeteering a doll is incredibly hard to work with, emotionally as well as descriptively. Same for the Fungus among us.

Same goes for the world. So, we’re riding the chainsawmobile across the bigger, meaner brother of the poison forest from Nausicaä, doing what exactly? Can that thing even be explored, seeing that it’s so bloody dense that something the size of a battleship/sailboat can ride on top of the branches?
Hell, what do you even consider a tasty snack in such a place? What do you do for entertainment? What’s the general tech level of amenities one can reasonably expect inside settlements and outside?

The GM might have an idea. But conveying such and utterly alien place to players is taxing at best. I don’t know about your folks, but even when I provided free PDFs for the setting, no one could be arsed to read them.

I think there are lots of little tropes and classical elements scattered throughout as guideposts, but Felix’s worlds definitely do trend toward “deeply weird in novel-feeling ways,” but I think “Exploring the high seas to aid the people of the world/be asshole pirates” are easy enough things to pick up on and run with immediately, and having some more classical styled quests – my sister went to that mountain and never came back; our town is running short on water but pirates keep picking off shipments – can help ground things and let people propel themselves along familiar corridors while more and more of the Weird Shit gets sprinkled in along the corners.

With the Bloodlines so loosely defined, there’s a lot of room for players to determine even pretty core truths about them, which can be very exhausting for some people, so as GM, you can step in to offer more. That said, I think it’s very much a person-by-person thing. I’ve seen lots of people choose to explore really cool narrative and emotional territory through the lens of the out-there species. Think there’s some fairly clear trans subtext that can be read into the ever-shifting, self-determined fungal Gau; loads of potential backstory tragedy as a spirit-guided Ironbound whose lost their memories of the disaster that birthed them; heck, even just picking up a short-lived Mothryn lets you grapple with mortality and the meaning of life in some pretty cool ways if you want to lean into it. But, some people really don’t want that kinda stuff. The Ardent are there for your “bog standard just a guy” characters, but I wouldn’t say Wildsea is a great fit for a group of lifelong D&D devotees who want to plumb yet another dungeon with their level 19 dwarven fighter named Seamus McPunchespeople who has zero backstory.

Explicitly and directly yes; the book has a great deal of detail on the myriad levels of the forest and what life and exploration are like in each. The Reaches provide great fertile ground for a GM to build off of, if they don’t want to create a bunch of stuff on their own or with their players, and between the core book, a fanzine, and the expansions, there’s a lot of variety available, with plenty of explicit hooks/lead-ins provided.

That’s absolutely key, though. It’s a game that’s asking more from players than other systems. Or, at the very least, it’s asking for a different kind of work to be done. I for one am just utterly over memorizing the nitty gritty details of d20 fantasy game combat minutia and exactly how Feat X interacts with Spell Y, and am of the opinion that achieving enough system mastery of something like a D&D or a Pathfinder to run an optimal, powerful character is work. But a kind of work – and associated rewards – that appeals to a lot of people, and I don’t wanna diminish that.

But other folks are very much down for the task of reading up some inspirational PDF text ahead of a campaign and thinking up their own cool interpretations and backstories and hooks with their GM. So much of the game is about the joy of the discovery, and the mechanics ensure that the GM is as often as not discovering things right along with their players. That requires a lot of improv, and table buy-in, and creativity, and that can absolutely be taxing and tough. Sometimes, you just wanna beer-and-pretzels your way through 200 goblins or immerse yourself into ultra classical tropes like vampires vs. werewolves that everyone already “basically knows.”

Don’t think either approach is bad, and it’s worth being aware of the kinds of players you’ve got, but I think Wildsea does an excellent job explaining and opening itself up to people who dig the kinds of things it does well.

On the opposite side of something like Wildsea, Schwalb Entertainment’s Shadow of the Weird Wizard is out in pdf form. This is the follow-up to Shadow of the Demon Lord.

Early impressions seem to be mixed.

274 pages for 1/2 of the rulebook, with weapons and armour taking up 6 pages and the magic chapter having a whopping 86. Not exactly rules light, it seems.

Is there any preview of the actual system mechanics available?

Not that I’ve seen. In a general sense, I think Wizard is meant to build on the same basic mechanics of Demon Lord, but from what I’m reading, more crunch was added.

Apparently a lot more crunch, like, ‘no way any of this has been extensively playtested’ kind of lots.

Also complaints of terribly inconsistent use of measurement units requiring cumbersome conversions for relatively basic mechanics, like calculating fall damage.

According to reddit anyways. Have not read it myself yet.

I’m sure there are people out there that enjoy a heaping dose of crunch… but I can’t imagine there are many people that want to calculate how high they can jump in inches. What kind of gaming are you running where you need to know whether you can jump 10 inches or 12 inches?

Not to mention some movement rules are in yards, some in feet, and jumping in inches. And if you fall farther than your height in feet you take damage equal to the distance you fell in yards?

Lack of consistency like that sounds like terrible work not only on the editorial front, but also on the conceptual design front.

So, the concept of the Fantasy Heartbreaker is still alive and kicking in 2024. :/

Seeing a lot of complaints about the art too, which was one of the strong points of Demon Lord. That sounds petty but good art can help in world building for an RPG. Apparently, instead of paying someone for art direction like he did on Demon Lord, Schwalb did it himself this time around.