CAMPAIGN AUTOPSIES: Will I Ever Learn?

Photo by Giancarlo Revolledo on Unsplash

When the Tuesday Knights came into being I was the de facto gamesmaster, running a deliciously vanilla fantasy campaign in my homebrew setting of Tekralh.

However, I don't feel my gamesmastering chops really began to take form until May 2014 when Pete handed me the reins of his nascent Chronicles of Cidri campaign.

Pete had been running this, for a few months, using the old The Fantasy Trip rules, but I updated that to a retroclone of the system, Heroes & Other Worlds.

I have to confess that the mechanics were rather too "dice pooly" for my liking, but they really worked well in the context of our campaign.

I ran Cidri for the better part of three years, building up to a delightfully OTT apocalyptic climax.

This campaign remains my personal gold standard, a target I now wish to aim for again - and hopefully excel - when I'm finally allowed to return to the head of the table.

The Tuesday Knights' membership has changed a lot since those days, we've lost some people and gained more members, which means tastes have changed as well, but I still feel these "revelations" hold water and I really should adhere to them.

I wish I'd had the foresight to conduct an autopsy on our Cidri campaign when it wrapped, dissecting my thoughts on why it worked, but I think I was just basking in the adulation of my players... and so it never crossed my mind to attempt the kind of surprisingly perceptive analysis that I had with these earlier efforts that hadn't worked out.

As will be clear by now I've started work on my latest attempt to run an "open-ended" campaign for the Tuesday Knights, but this time with a new rules set (Twilight Sword) and a superficially-familiar fantasy setting.

This will actually be my fifth or sixth attempted campaign since the Tuesday Knights first started gaming back in August 2008.

So, what went wrong with my previous games?

TEKRALH I: The first game I ran for the Tuesday Knights started as heavily houseruled version of Castles & Crusades (with a large dose of Hackmaster and Arduin) and it worked really well to start with...

Until, for no readily apparent reason, I decided to switch horses mid-stream and changed the rules system to a by-the-book version of Labyrinth Lord. The characters were severely de-powered and the game turned into a meatgrinder of TPK after TPK.

Within a few sessions all the fun that we'd had at the start of the campaign was sucked from the campaign. Eventually, I had to pull the plug on the game as it wasn't getting anywhere.

When we started the players were giving me nice backstories for their characters, with plot hooks etc, but by the end I was lucky if they'd give their characters names as they knew their life expectancy had become so limited.

MORAL: If it ain't broke don't fix it.

KNIGHT CITY I: Next up was my Villains & Vigilantes campaign, set in Knight City. This was driven almost entirely by the naïve dream of trying to recapture the magic that Steve, Pete, Nick and I enjoyed with our original V&V games back in the '80s.

Almost from the start things went wrong with this campaign due to the simple fact that we weren't all singing from the same hymn sheet. It wasn't anyone's fault in particular, but when we were teenagers we were all (except for Nick) avid comic book readers and had reasonably similar tastes in comics and superheroes.

Thirty years later, tastes had changed and the sort of scenarios I wanted to run (e.g. dimension hopping, cosmic stuff) didn't sit comfortably with some of the players, who were expecting more straight-forward supervillain bashing.

There were also problems with the rules (from the clunky combat table at the game's heart to the peculiar diversity of character's random power sets), but ultimately these were just the straws that broke a very unhealthy camel's back. I think we could have overcome these if everyone had had contiguous ideas of where the game should be going.

MORAL: Make sure everyone is on the same page.

TEKRALH II: I thought I'd found a winner when I came across D101's Crypts & Things (a sword & sorcery variant of Swords & Wizardry) as I thought this kind of human-centric adventure game was the way to go.

The simple problem with this very short-lived campaign - and it had nothing to do with the rules - was I had just discovered A Song Of Ice & Fire!

I was in the grip of Westeros-fever and spent all my time thinking about developing the wider world, quickly losing sight of the intimate adventure I should have been running for the players. 

This would have been fine if the player-characters were all high-up members of House Stark or House Lannister, but they were actually 1st Level D&D proto-adventurers and tunnel grubbers.

Instead of developing scenarios or stocking dungeons I was researching medieval legal systems, clothing, cuisine, bartering etc My eyes were fixed on the horizon rather than the gamestable in front of me.

MORAL: Intimate, not epic.

SHADOWDARK: I only ran this for one session. The players told me afterwards that they loved it, but something about it just didn't click with me.

At the time I was working on my overcomplicated Frankengame monstrosity of assorted houserules all stapled together with my own ideas from decades of gaming.

As it happened, "my" system and Shadowdark shared some similar ideas. It's just Shadowdark did them more elegantly, more streamlined. So I should have been happy!

To this day, I have no idea why I bounced off of Shadowdark so hard, when - upon initially reading the rules - it felt like such a perfect fit for my style of gamesmastering. 

However, I'm glad I didn't drag this game out and euthanised it before people got too invested in the campaign.

MORAL: If you're going to kill off a game, kill it quickly.

KNIGHT CITY II: Last year - before the osteoarthritis in my back knocked me off my feet for more than six months - I started a new V&V campaign (this time with some houserules to avoid some of the issues we'd encountered mechanically last time).

I provided the players with pamphlets before hand introducing the setting and - hopefully - suggesting the style of game I was hoping for.

But, once again, it didn't take long to realise that we had four players all pulling in different directions. This meant, for instance, that the opening scenario - which should have taken one or two sessions to wrap up - was heading into its fourth month when I had to retire from the field.

At its core, the problems with this iteration of Knight City were exactly the same as before, even though the make-up of the group at the table was different.

Superheroes are such a broad genre that they can mean diametrically different things to different players, no matter how well you think you've spelled out your personal vision.

And a central element of that clash of ideologies lies at my own feet. Over the decades (I've been reading comics since I was a wee nipper, and a collector since I was a teenager), my personal beliefs about what makes a good costumed crimefighter have become so embedded in my psyche that I'm not only unable to clearly explain my "vision" (surely everyone else sees superheroes the same way, right?) but I get frustrated when my players don't automatically share the same "vision"!

Just because it's a beloved reading and viewing genre for me doesn't mean I can run it as an open-ended, forever campaign. In fact, I'm probably too emotionally invested in the genre for me to brook any deviation from my perceived "one true way".

To top that off - again ignoring my mistakes from previous failed campaigns - I'd gone full "Game of Thrones" on Knight City and obsessively detailed every borough, with hundreds and hundreds of locations. Most of which, the players bypassed when creating their character backstories. 

It's almost as if I'd totally ignored every single misstep I'd made previously as a gamesmaster and was trying to crash on regardless.

MORAL: Learn from your past mistakes. Pick a game genre that everyone understands.

THROWBACK THURSDAY: First Forays Into Fantasy Fiction

My magnum opus: Eyes Of The Eagle

The very first 'book' that I wrote, at the age of nine or 10, was a science-fiction one entitled Tim's Planetary Police, about my primary school peers and I as - unsurprisingly - an interplanetary police force.

At the time I was unsure of the spelling of "planetary" and so the cover was abridged to "Tim's P.P." - which some wag claimed stood for "Tim's Private Parts".

Another unfortunate aspect of the book was that I decided to illustrate it myself (when at secondary school, an art teacher described me as the "most artistically inept pupil he had ever taught") and so the 'portal' between our solar system and the next ended up looking more like a sphincter than a Stargate.

Sadly, for posterity, that particular note book of scribbles has been lost, either consigned to a landfill or recycled into toilet paper.

My next effort at writing, however, was far more ambitious. I guess around this time - the mid-'70s - I'd just been introduced to the works of JRR Tolkien and so I began my youthful homage (ie. blatant rip-off): The Eyes Of The Eagle.

Eyes was a four-part story (ie four exercise books stapled together and bound with a paper 'dust cover', glued round the outer books) - One More Battle, The Army, Raymor's Evil and The Eagle Is Slain - begun in 1976 and finished on October 29, 1977 (the date is recorded on the back of the 'dust cover').

This being a Lord Of The Rings clone, it wouldn't have been complete without my 10-year-old's attempt to crib my favourite bit of LOTR: the appendices.

Eyes had a number of short essays at the back on:

• "the sword" (the magic sword central to the story, imaginatively named 'the sword'); 
• "runes" (random doodles and their alphabetical equivalents); 
• "orders and laws of the land" (basically a racial power structure with elves on top, men and dwarves of equal standing and then hobbits on the bottom tier); 
• "kings and stewards of Rowdor" (historical rulers of a central city from the story); 
• "the Hillhatches" (a family tree and origin story for the central family of dwarves from Eyes Of The Eagle) 
• and some biographies of sundry other characters from the tale (King Acurst, Rucsan, Norlion, Brokenspear, and San Chin).

The 247-page, hand-scrawled story follows the exploits of the younger members of a family of dwarf miners - Noddy, Sammy, Bilbo, Sidney, Rodney, Ben and their sister Mary - who get turned around while camping in a nearby forest and instead of spending their five-week holiday with their Uncle Sam end up entangled in a series of random, cataclysmic events that ultimately decide the fate of The Land.

Everything happens at a breakneck pace with - of course - no character development and increasingly oddly-spelled names.

All this is interspersed with puerile songs - my attempts at Tolkienesque poetry, but more influenced by nursery rhymes and playground chants - and random battle descriptions.

Needless to say, The Eyes Of The Eagle has yet to be submitted for publication, although some of the place names have endured through several Dungeons And Dragons campaigns, including my 2008 Tekralh setting (which saw the return of innkeeper Fumbly Weed among other Eyes alumni).

As far as I can remember, Eyes Of The Eagle was my only attempt at writing a fantasy novel.

Later juvenile scribblings returned to the broad church of science-fiction with a series of future crime/private eye novels; a lot of Star Wars-ish space opera; several post-apocalyptic epics that rambled on and on but were never finished and at least one collection of 'amusing' stories about anthropomorphic animals.

Introducing PROJECT 60

In the middle of 2024, I announced on Facebook - as much for myself as anyone else - that I was launching PROJECT 60.

The primary aim of this overarching idea was that by the time I hit 60 (in a few years' time) I will have assembled and researched an actual historical skirmish wargame... set in the age of the Border Reivers.

Superficially it's a Medieval (Tudor) "Wild West" on the border of Scotland & England (The Debatable Lands), with swords, horses, black powder weapons, lawlessness, family loyalty etc

Bizarrely, it was a random mention of this time on an episode of Antiques Roadshow that first piqued my interest.

I've since been circling this idea - as either a wargame or RPG setting - for several years now, but finally decided 2024 was the time to get stuck in.

For figures and rules I shall be concentrating on those produced by Flags of War, as those were the first I discovered for this little-known period.

While I have yet to fully grok the rules system (at first glance there's an air of Savage Worlds about it that I rather like), one of the joyous things about this game and its setting is that it's very much a skirmish game, for a handful of figures on each side.

So there's no need to invest in hundreds of minis, that would then bust the bank if I wanted them painted up nicely.

It actually turns out that several other manufacturers produce miniatures - and terrain - suitable for this period, but the Flags of War ones are my favourites by far, and so will be my primary focus.

My first batch of miniatures are currently with my figure painter, and I'll let you all know once they are done. 

I've organised the games room a bit, so the table is ready for the miniatures. At some point, I must try to drybrush the model church and graveyard, add some flocking and so on to make it look less plastic.

What's really surprised me, as I accumulated my library of historical tomes about the Border Reivers, is that while there are a handful of factual documentaries about them as far as I can tell there has never been a motion picture made about these characters.

I'm gobsmacked by this missed opportunity, as their stories are full of action and larger-than-life antiheroes, very much akin to the Western cinema that was the backbone of Hollywood in the "golden age" and still produces epic classics to this very day. 

Part of my research has also involved reading the late Robert Low's superlative trilogy of Border Reivers novels, which my old university chum, JJ, sent me when he heard I'd taken a fancy to this period of history.

On the roleplaying front, it has finally struck me (in the last couple of days actually) that the games I fiddle about about with, house rule, and generally rewrite aren't actually being designed for me to run!

What I'm actually doing (subconsciously until now) is creating rules systems and worlds (such as my defunct superhero setting Knight City) that I want to play in, that I want to create a player-character for and have the kind of adventures I've always fantasised as the ultimate manifestation of this marvellous hobby.

This is why I would often get frustrated when I ran a campaign (usually an aborted superhero one) because it wouldn't turn out how I imagined it should. It wasn't that I was railroading the Tuesday Knights towards specific outcomes or trying to dictate the emerging story, but that it wasn't emulating the genre as I perceived it.

Most recent batch of Tekralh booklets - a mix of new and updated material

If you know me on Facebook you will have (possibly) seen posts about my recent work on Tekralh (the name I'm sticking with for my Frankengame), as the RPG strand of my  PROJECT 60.

I've broken the mass of my writing down into smaller booklets, which - at a future date - makes them more cost-effective to edit and reprint.

The building blocks of my Tekralh house rules

And what got me excited about all this again?

Back in March, I ran a single session of Shadowdark for The Tuesday Knights. Everybody said they loved it, but there was something that didn't click for me.

It took me a moment to twig: it was a very good system... but it wasn't MY system. I'm certainly not knocking the multi-award-winning Shadowdark, but several of the things I liked about it were also things I liked about my own Frankengame.

Yes, my house rules are a lot crunchier than Shadowdark and maybe not as easy for people to instantly grok, but I kept coming back to the point that my Frankengame was my game... and, ultimately, if I only get one final shot at running an open-ended, mega-campaign, I'd really like it to be my own baby.

The original Arduin Trilogy - the biggest influence on my DIY RPG ideas

To try and explain what I'm going for with my bundle of house rules (that build off of Newt Newport's Crypts & Things and Matt Finch's Swords & Wizardry), I want to point you towards the main influences and inspirations for Tekralh:

• Dave Hargrave's Arduin - my very first 'postal purchase', from a small advert in the back of White Dwarf, paid for with postal orders (!!!). I have no recollection what drove me to buy this (had I already read the introductory article by Dave in Different Worlds magazine?). But I've never looked back since those original three little booklets arrived at my parents' house. Over the years I went on to buy all the original booklets... and quite a lot of the later material (there's even a new edition on the horizon), but it's the original trilogy I keep returning to for ideas.
• Dave Arneson's Blackmoor - another first for me. After I'd purchased my Holmes' Basic Dungeons & Dragons booklet, the first actual gaming supplement I remember picking up from the Dark Tower in Tunbridge Wells was, appropriately, Judges Guild's The First Fantasy Campaign, a delightfully rough and ready collection of notes from Arneson's ur-campaign, the foundation upon which ALL campaigns that followed were built.
• Gary Gygax's Greyhawk - I've always had an interest in this campaign, for similar reasons to my love of Blackmoor: it was a campaign formulated before the rest of the gaming world knew what "fantasy roleplaying campaigns" were. Sadly, while there are early editions of the rules books that grew out of this available, there isn't the random notes and unfiltered enthusiasm of my first two choices. And, the deepest sorrow is the lack of a true rendition of the legendary Castle Greyhawk. I've seen - and own replicas - of some material, largely courtesy of Gary's co-DM Robert Kuntz. 
• Robert A. Wardhaugh's The Game 

I'm not looking for replicate these games and settings, but I definitely aspire to emulate them... because I want to play in a version of them.

It explains why I've always found myself at a loss when it comes to dreaming up scenarios. I can picture odd set-pieces (which are MOMENTS I'd love to be a part of in a never-ending old school campaign), but creating an actual scenario whole cloth always leaves me at a loss.

And this is why: I can see how a story could start, but I want to be part of the group that discovers how events unfold from there. I ant to be an integral part of the developing story rather than the gamesmaster setting out all the pieces on the board for us to play with.

If you've made it this far you're probably wondering what this all means?

Honestly, I don't know. Even after a year away from blogging I'm still no closer to reaching any definitive conclusions on the gaming front.

I want to play in a game like the ones that have inspired me, like the one I've tried to create, but nothing on the Tuesday Knights docket comes to close to this "aspirational holy grail".