RPG Zine Club October review (part 2)

The Corrupted by Navaar Seik-Jackson

The Corrupted by Navaar Seik-Jackson is the adventure game offering of October's Zine Club, but I don't know if I would necessarily call it an "adventure game" if it weren't marketed as such. For me, an adventure should spend most of its time in specifics: maps, NPCs, factions, timelines, antagonists, things that a GM can easily reference and use at the table. In this zine, half of the 32 pages are devoted to the Protagonist System (the engine upon which this game runs), 6 detail game-specific GM advice/mechanics, and 9 deal with the world of The Corrupted. Already, this offering is in a bit of a weird place, but let's spend some time with the provided system to see what it has to offer.

The Protagonist System, per the designer, "draws from traditional systems like Dungeons & Dragons, as well as narrative frameworks like Powered by the Apocalypse games." The influences of these are obvious:

• Use of a d20 for action resolution
• Hit points
• Skill lists
• 6-10 second combat turns
• 6 statistics
• Partial successes/failures
• GM moves

This system is used to explore a post-apocalyptic world (though it offers several flavors of how "post" the apocalypse it is) where an alien pathogen has infected much of life on Earth to create the titular Corrupted, blood-zombies that use inky tendrils to seek out iron-rich deposits and create new Corrupted.

Picture something like the Corrupted Blood Incident from World of Warcraft, except if all these skeletons were blood monsters.

I have...mixed feelings about this offering, but I'll start with what is good.

The Good Stuff

The two best parts of the system are:

1. Integration of mixed successes into combat via the damage your attack deals is genuinely very clever. Regular damage on a success (16-19 after modifiers), double damage on a critical (20+), and half damage on a partial success (10-15). It matters what kind of approach you take in combat, as with the right bonuses and some lucky rolling you can minimize the number of failures you get (and completely eliminate the possibility of critical failures, since you have to get a 1 or lower after modifiers). This makes the characters feel competent and well-suited for tasks they are specialized for, but also makes for some difficult decisions should they attempt untrained skills.

2. Threat Points make it easy for the GM to run encounters. They start with a budget based on the number of enemies in a combat, gain more when players roll badly, and spend them to do enemy actions like moving, attacking, or making changes to the environment. Under ideal circumstances, the enemies have a limited range of actions, but bad rolls generate additional Threat Points for the GM to use. This can have a cascading effect within a round, where a bad roll puts a character in a desperate position, the new Threat Points worsen the situation, and everyone else has to decide how best to deal with this. Under other circumstances, this could lead to a death spiral for the whole combat, but Threat Points reset each round. A terrible position at the end of one round of combat is still bad for the players at the start of the next, but the enemies are back at square 0 in terms of their ability to react. Yes, this is up to the randomization effect of dice, but smart approaches and playing to characters' strengths allows them to minimize the damage. 

These two parts combined angle the game experience towards highly specialized characters performing surgically precise actions (but otherwise acting fairly desperately) or more general-use characters that operate at a constant low level of risk but rarely in dire straits. These general modes of play feel very true to zombie apocalypse media in general: you either have average folks do their best in a horrific situation or military-level agents wasting enemies in combat but oftentimes struggling to accomplish more social goals like community-building. I would love to play a character of either type.

The...Less Good Stuff

The rest of the system (and zine in general) get in the way of what is good about it. What I reference above are not the only good things in the system, but it could be stripped down to those parts and some connective tissue and work pretty well. There are a lot of components of the rules that I would prefer to just jettison because I see them as adding more cognitive load to everyone at the table than the return I would get from them.

But beyond the specific rules that I might not like, the biggest problem that I have here is that the system gets in the way of my understanding the world of The Corrupted. As I mentioned at the top, there are 9 pages of setting information: 4 pages of bestiary (encompassing 4 types of enemies) and 5 pages on 4 factions you might encounter.

And that's it.

This is just not enough for me to grab onto to run a game in this world! I'm increasingly turning to game texts for details that I couldn't come up with myself, things that can inspire me to create my own stories in a world. And to be clear, the seeds of that are here in this zine. The Corrupted have some really fascinating details (they're searching for sources of iron, they develop and evolve over time, they might be aliens) but it's just not enough. Even the factions presented are fairly basic versions of zombie apocalypse tropes. You've got:

• The troubled community doing its best
• The people trying to figure out what caused the apocalypse and how to fix it
• The evil corporation
• And the paramilitary freaks

Just based off these tropes, I could come up with a lot of the text (or something approximating it) for these factions. But I'll tell you what's there that is really useful...

The Best Stuff

...the Day Zero, One Year, and Five Year timelines!

The "Running the Game" section introduces the idea of these three distinct 'timelines' you can run a game in, each of them featuring different themes, types/amounts of enemies, amount of salvageable material in buildings, that kind of stuff. Day Zero is hectic and chaotic but with plenty of resources available, Year One has clear factions forming and supplies running low, and Year Five has desperation on your heels and formidable foes around every corner.

This is exactly what I want from an adventure: actionable advice that helps me quickly and easily figure out what I need to get a game up and running. I just wish there were more of it, as what we have is pretty good. Each faction contains a brief writeup of what they look like in each timeline, but there's just so much more that could have been done and more specifics that could have been included (a roster of NPCs and how they change over time, for example). As it is, the game provides enough to play through each of these timelines, but you'll have to fill in a lot of the gaps yourself without too much help from the zine itself.

Wrap-Up

As I said in the previous review, I'm not in the business of giving out numerical scores at the end of these, so here's my final take on the game: this game could be good for the kind of play that I like to engage in, but it doesn't bring enough innovative ideas to the table for me to really want to use it. The influence of The Last of Us is clear and explicitly namechecked in the opening pages, but unfortunately, I'm just not sure how much this game has to offer beyond that.

RPG Zine Club October review (Part 1): SuperDillin Double Feature

While attending Big Bad Con 2023 at the end of September, I had the opportunity to sign up for Plus One Exp's RPG Zine Club. This subscription service delivers 1-2 zines (both storygames and adventures) to your door/inbox each month, featuring a wide variety of creators and bringing together artists from around the world. Once I heard about it, I knew I had to sign up, both to build my personal hoard of RPG zines and to see what kind of interesting new games I might find as a result. This is a review of the storygame offering, with the adventure game review to follow in Part 2

SuperDillin Double Feature

Just pretend that says "SuperDillin" instead of "Science Fiction"

Guys in Chairs

Guys in Chairs belongs to the "improv game" school of TTRPGs, a term I have completely made up to describe games that could be pretty easily found in an improv group's rehearsal repertoire. These are relatively simple games guided by strong premises and heavily dependent on players' ability to play off of each other in open-ended scenes. Here, you're playing the not-even-sidekicks of various super individuals (think less Robin and more Alfred) as they try to help their superfriends resolve various significant missions.

These are your friends, and that's you on either end. Yes, you could be Wonder Dog, who's just a regular dog with a cape on.

The rules are simple (simple enough that I won't reproduce them here for fear of giving away most of them for free), but there is some structure lacking that could help players. Anyone not comfortable with improv or unfamiliar with the role of non-superpowered individuals in comic books might flounder a bit in this game. There isn't much in the way of advice in terms of the kinds of conflicts that you might encounter or how you can introduce meaningful action when you're a mundane character in a superpowered world. In short, this is a great game if you're already pretty familiar with roleplaying and comic books, but it doesn't have the scaffolding to help players new to TTRPGs.

Spin the Bottle

Spin the Bottle is the other half of the SuperDillin double feature, a system based on the kissing game of the same name. This is a very clever idea, to take the emotional weight and connotations of an existing object and convert them into an engine to generate those same vibes. This game centers around secrets: you have a crush (determined randomly at the beginning of the game), but no one else can find out. You spin the bottle to decide who your scene partner will be, but even when you're not in a scene you're constantly on the lookout for clues to other players' crushes. The game itself ends when someone correctly guesses another player's crush, so you have an additional reason to pay close attention to every scene.

Characters from Girls With Slingshots by Danielle Corsetto

This game presents more scaffolding and clearer goals for players, making it easier for them to understand how to set scenes and engage with each other. I particularly like the push and pull of trying to connect with other characters while trying to avoid giving away anything about your true intentions. The stakes aren't that high, so players are unlikely to feel truly antagonistic, but it does nicely replicate the strange sensation of being in a highly visible social setting where it feels like everyone is looking at you. Check out this game if for no other reason than to be able to say that you've actually played "Spin the Bottle."

The Verdict

I don't know how exactly I'm going to wrap up these reviews, but I know that I won't be using a score system. No stars, no */10, no tomato-meter, nothing like that. (For an excellent perspective on review scores, check out this blogpost by Spencer Campbell of Gila RPGs.) Instead, an attempt to wrap up my thoughts and give broad takeaways. So here goes:

I probably wouldn't have bought this zine if it hadn't been part of Zine Club. The games just aren't really my thing, and that's coming from someone who would gladly do Guys in Chairs as an improv comedy game. I prefer a bit more structure and scaffolding in games, some more inspiration as to the kinds of characters or scenarios you could work with. My view of game texts has morphed over time to prioritize games that can give me the idea to do something I wouldn't otherwise have thought of myself. And here, using Spin the Bottle as a way of determining scene partners genuinely does that! But the rest of the game doesn't quite support me in helping figure out what happens next. These games are great prompts for players who feel comfortable spinning up full yarns without so much as touching a resolution mechanic, so if that sounds like you I wholeheartedly recommend you check them out.

A Beginner's(?) Manifesto for TTRPGs

The Premise

Sam Dunnewold, game designer and host of Dice Exploder, recently challenged those of us in the Dice Exploder Discord server with too many opinions and too much time on our hands to come up with our own personal answer for a hypothetical person asking, "Hey, I'm new to RPGs but excited to dive in. What should I read and play?" The main meat of this answer would need to include:

• 3 blog posts/theory pieces/podcast episodes/videos/other pieces of media about playing RPGs or RPG game design
• 1 game people should read and play
• Context for the above
• A paragraph or so of advice

This is my best attempt to adhere to these criteria. Honestly.

3 pieces of media

1. "The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction" from Dancing at the Edge of the World by Ursula K. Le Guin

We're starting off heady here folks! Ursula K. Leguin never made TTRPGs herself (to the best of my knowledge) but her influence can/should be felt far and wide. My first recommendation is this essay because I find it aspirational - and because I don't fully understand it myself. Please take the time to read it for yourself, at the link it's just over 8 pages long and the margins are large.

She proposes a fundamental restructuring of how we see narrative, story, Heroes, heroism - one that is long overdue in literature at large but especially here in an artform still so strongly influenced by wargaming. How might TTRPGs look different if we acknowledge them as carrier bags, places where we store things we find interesting, tragic, tasty, worth sharing? I don't know - but maybe if enough people read this essay one of you can help figure it out and then let me know.

2. "Real Enough: The Reality Our Games Make" by Lucrécia Ludovico Alves

This is a bit of a sneaky recommendation, as it's essentially a plug for the Split/Party substack as a whole, but this particular piece has stuck with me ever since I read it for the first time. Much like Le Guin's essay, Alves is grappling with big concepts here and I don't necessarily feel like I fully understand it. Obviously I recommend that you read it, but you're going to want to give yourself some time to do so. It's dense, theoretical, and has considerably more citations than most TTRPG media - but it's worth it.

The argument boiled down, as I see it, challenges how we see characters in TTRPGs and how we see ourselves. Essentially it asks, "Oh you think you're more real than your character? Prove it." And the thing is? You can't. We wield interpretive repertoires to instill meaning and reality in ourselves just like we weave backstory and motivation into our characters. And the real kicker? The line that I have made room for in my head like a treasured friend?

I am made true and real every day. I am made real by you, reader, reading me; or something close enough.

Think you're real? Think you're true?

Only insomuch as everyone else conspires to make you so. And in the end, how different is that from a table of players agreeing to immanentize their characters?

3. "Ritual in Game Design" by Meguey Baker

I don't know if it counts as beginner's TTRPG if the Bakers don't show up, so here's a wonderful (and actionable!) piece from Meguey Baker about the role that ritual plays in both the playing and reading/writing of games. Not all games must involve ritual, but I would be hard pressed to think of a better description of TTRPGs than as "intentional contained conscious creative action." By reading this essay, you'll be better equipped to schedule, run, play, and write games.

"1" game: .dungeon and/or .dungeon//remastered by snow

Few people understand the TTRPG milieu better than snow, and this game/these games are a masterclass in displaying that. Not only are they gorgeous and simple to learn, they blur the lines between in-game and away-from-game, gameplay and secondary storytelling (to borrow a term from Alves' piece above), the character and the player. Masquerading as just another fantasy TTRPG, snow's metagame of playing players playing characters in an MMO opens up incredible opportunities for joy, humor, connection, and art.

...I've already used up my paragraph of advice, huh?

Well too bad! You're not my dad and you're not a cop! (Unless you are my dad or a cop, in which case "...how did you find this?" and "Leave!" respectively.) In all seriousness though, my opinion should mean nothing to you except to the extent you find it useful. As Alves says, "I have no prescriptions for you." (Un)Fortunately, the best way for you to get into TTRPGs is to do it, and no one can tell you the 'right' or 'wrong' path to it. Just, y'know don't get sucked into endless cyclical discourse, don't give bigots your money, and for god's sake don't let big companies create walled gardens to enclose what is otherwise a hugely freeing experience that defies boundaries and .

It's (Not) Dangerous To Go Alone: Hiria, the Eternal City

Welcome to the first entry in It's (Not) Dangerous To Go Alone, my hopefully ongoing series about playing and critiquing solo TTRPGs! Today I'm talking about Hiria: the Eternal City by Peter Eijk, which I backed in ZiMo 2023.

I live in Washington, DC, which sometimes feels like it has no particular character or culture, but at the same time has a deep and rich Black culture that I, as a White person, often am not privy to and/or do not seek out. Conversely, when I visited New York City earlier this summer, I was struck by how...city-like it felt. Not only were there taller buildings and more people on the streets, everything just felt more connected with restaurants, parks, and museums more integrated with apartments and public transit.

Now of course a large part of this is because Manhattan has a population density of nearly 73,000 people per square mile compared to DC’s 11,000, as well as 150+ years more history with which to develop a particular character. And of course there is the issue of gentrification, which raises the question: who is allowed to enjoy the benefits of this integrated city? But beyond that, these differences make me wonder: what makes a city a city?

Hiria: the Eternal City by Peter Eijk grapples with this as you travel through a multiversal city in all its strange permutations in search of an elusive quarry. The rules are simple and the art incredible, both working together to create elegant and interesting mash-ups of disparate ideas.

Cover art by Jean Verne

One of the best parts of the game was trying to figure out how the hell I was going to make sense of the new city I had traveled to, and the random tables that gave the Color, Flavor, and Weird of the city delivered in spades. What exactly does an abandoned city of flying cars and shining towers where the buildings are alive look like anyway? I don’t know but I’m certainly about to find out! And find out I did, working my way through 11 distinct versions of Hiria as I chased down my quarry.

But how much did I actually explore each of those versions of Hiria? Well, how much of Manhattan did I see in a weekend? How well do I know DC after living here for 5 years? The answer is always going to be: not all of it! Not even most, or half, or a tenth of it. In the case of Hiria, though, I definitely shortchanged myself. And it was my own doing, because no one was forcing me to move on. I could have arrived in each new version of Hiria and played an entire game of i’m sorry did you say street magic (which…stay tuned perhaps?) without losing steam, but that’s not really the focus of the game. The focus is on the quarry…or is it?

Art by Phil Jensen

Creating your Quarry is the first thing you do, but that’s practically the last time you actually interact with them. You find Traces of them throughout Hiria, each of them potentially giving you more information about them, but I didn’t find myself having enough of a baseline to feel confident diving deeper into their character. I chose one of the predefined Quarries, so maybe if I had come up with my own I would have had a stronger foundation, but the one I chose (Balthazar IV: deposed king, failed farmer) had a good description that made me giggle. Yet his Traces (a photograph with writing on the back; a telegram, wrongly addressed; a statue in an abandoned square) at once contained my imagination by being too specific and were too vague to give enough guidance. So who was this person I was chasing down? And who was I to be doing the chasing?

Well unfortunately I did play the game wrong by not answering additional Background questions when I rolled duplicates on the Events table (instead my Quarry transformed something like three or four times oops), but answering these additional questions would have given a better picture of my character and not the Quarry. It became decidedly lonely, chasing this mysterious figure through Hiria without much of a past myself and little context to what I was doing. While I had an initial reason for the chase (bring Balthazar IV back to face justice), that faded into the background the more time that went on.

Art by bertdrawsstuff

But if it’s not about the chase and it’s not about the city, what is it about? For me, it ended up being about the people (despite them being almost conspicuously absent from the game book). There are tables for putting together Hiria, rules for traveling between versions of Hiria, events that can happen in Hiria, but never any consideration of who lives there and would be affected by those events. And this is perhaps simultaneously the game’s biggest strength and weakness, that it does not dictate what kind of people you find in Hiria. You can backfill what kind of people would live in a decaying city of parched plants and rolling blackouts carved in a glacier, but you don’t have to. Each version of Hiria you go to might as well be abandoned, and that just leaves so much interesting flavor on the table. It also fails to account for how cities come to be in the real world, which is that people decide to live somewhere and build it up over time. Buildings and monuments don’t precede the people that live around them, they emerge from the needs of the inhabitants or the imposition of foreign influences.

To bring it back to my own experience of living in Washington, DC: it feels not dissimilar to my perception that there is no defined culture here. It is all too easy to look at the monuments, the federal buildings, the corporate downtown and declare: this is the city. But that’s not the city. Or at least, not all of it. To do so would miss out on the fabric that undergirds all of that. So to anyone interested in playing Hiria: the Eternal City (and I do recommend you play it), I just ask that you not forget the people who live there.