I must confess that I prefer minimal flavour. I am not interested in accessories with pages and pages of fluff, heck, I am not interested in any item that has multiple paragraphs of fluff unless there is a very good reason for it. Now, I understand I might be conflating fluff with flavour, and that might not be entirely fair. But then again, minimal fluff is what makes flavour more palpable to me, and therefore, more exciting.
Good question. I am always curious about the provenance of a rule at hand. Is it from the author themself? Did they take it from someone else? Is that person credited? Can I trace the rule all the way back to its origin point?
I wonder about those not because of ownership but because I wish to understand how much playing has the rule seen. I am not a professional game designer. I play role-playing games for fun and recreation. I am confident in making a ruling, and even writing it down. And I respect rules that came out of thousands of hours of play.
Gary and Dave played a lot. I will always give their rules the benefit of doubt, even if something they wrote doesn't make sense to me at first. I will extend the same courtesy to any author that convinces me their rules have seen actual play. Especially if they have been tested by competitive players who actively tried to break and exploit the rules.
What lesson has recently excited and inspired you?
This will be silly, but lessons on making websites in plain old HTML and CSS. I am a big fan of static, simple websites, but never had the time to learn coding them properly. This year I finally set aside some time, and decided to go the old school way—thick book instead of video lessons.
Who would benefit from contemplating on lessons learned from their exploratory expeditions?
That would be players!
They stand to gain the most by learning from their past expeditions. This helps them avoid failures and repeat successes. A simple & quick reflection protocol goes as follows:
What did we expect to happen?
What has actually happened?
Discuss all differences between the expected and actual outcomes.
Note down all recommendations to avoid or repeat actual outcomes.
This can be done between the sessions (via play-by-post) or at the end of the session in some 10 to 15 minutes.
Wilderness adventures and overland travel play a big part in our campaign. OD&D introduced simple rules, based on the Outdoor Survival board game. A wilderness turn lasts a day, within which player characters are able to move a number of 5-mile hexes based on their encumbrance and terrain they are moving through. Judges Guild then developed a more detailed “campaign hexagon system,” which broke down the 5-mile hex into smaller sub-hexes, and then once again into smaller sub-hexes. This allowed us to zoom in until turn could be an hour. AD&D updated the rules, introducing a number of clarifications, subsystems, so on and so forth.
When I worked on our wilderness movement rules I wished something that would work well with the five league hexes, the size Wilderlands maps were originally supposed to be. That's why I turned to HarnWorld, which uses metric leagues (1 metric league equals 2,5 miles equals 4 kilometers) as default. Next, I decided to use a four-hour watch system, naming each period as described in the AD&D DMG (midnight, pre-dawn, morning, noon, evening, and night). Number of daylight watches depends on the season. Next, I made a table with all Wilderlands terrain types and calculated how much leagues can one travel on foot, horse, cart, and wagon.
Above would not be possible without a wealth of existing resources, which I am immensely grateful for.
Who gets excited about rules for role-playing games? Well, I guess I do. The rules that excite me the most have a mix of qualities that is difficult to put in words, but I'll do my best.
First, rules with strong authorial voice that is passionate, slightly naive, confident but relaxed. Second, rules that are elegant, i.e. they are simple, succinct, and clever. If I cannot remove or add anything, if I don't need to re-represent it, if I keep getting back to it as it was, unadulterated, then it might indeed an elegant rule. Third, rules that are internally consistent. When the internal logic is consistent, then I can adjust the rules to my taste without breaking the overall game. I can also use the same logic to build what I wish to build. Four, rules that are backed with sound research, logic, and extensive play testing. I do not care much for simulationism, but I care a lot if the rule was pulled out of someone's ass, or if it was the result of meticulous research play tested with dozens of players.
The motivation for always reading new (and old) rules is much simpler. I am always interested in rules that could / would / might support me better in both achieving the desired tone and fiction of the game. Even when reading rules that I reject is helpful—because then I am able to better articulate what is it I do not desire.
Where is the tavern with most optimistic characters?
Optimism? In the Barbarian Altanis?! Well, the rumour has it Bellystone Thuaidh and Bellystone Theas, two taverns flanking the Bellystone Ford, a crossing point over the River Mageven, are filled to the brim with optimistic—or was it opportunistic?—folk of all kind.
Those on the north bank are optimistic about their travel along the Old South Road to the City State of the Invincible Overlord, while those on the south bank are optimistic about their fortunes in the Barbarian Altanis. But the two dwarven proprietors are most optimistic about milking their patrons dry.
Oh, that is easy! Right under the TV, in a dice tray and pencil case. There I have an assortment of dice, ranging from d4 to d30. The best prompting accessories I have ever had. They are nothing fancy, classic Chessex dice. d30s are no name brand, but they roll fine. In the future I would like to get a pair of d20s for rolling d00, instead of paired d10s. But I was unable to find a pair thus far. Please let me know if you know a good place in Europe that sells them.
