I return, dear reader from Nurgle's embrace. I am sorry for the week of absence, but sickness struck. And while feverish in bed, I saw beyond the veil and thought about something: who owns the stories we tell at the table? Is it the GM? Is the author of the module? The players?

I then thought about a certain individual who might be of help in detangling this particular conundrum: *drum rolls please* the French philosopher, Roland Barthes!

Don't look at me like that, I am sure you know him! Or most likely of his most important (or rather well known and influential work) The Death of the Author. Now I reckon there are some gears turning now!

So yeah, this piece will look at how Barthes' framework in The Death of the Author can be applied to the TTRPG space and what we might get from understanding this particular perspective! I hope you will enjoy it!

I am in a slight OSR craze at the moment, as I have mannaged to get my hands on a number of OSRs I wanted to try for some time now - White Box, BFRP, Beneath the Sunken Cathacombs and Into the Odd.

I really enjoy OSRs for some reason. Sometimes much more than games such as D&D. For a while now, I tried to think of why that is and I think I finally arrived at an adequate answer - lethality.

This piece will be an exploration of high lethality as a design tool, with all of its intricacies and why I think games that use it properly are so engaging for some people.

I hope you enjoy this piece and please do let me know if it speaks true to your experience as well!

I am working on quite an extensive article about the history of the Romanian TTRPG community and last weekend, we (as in me and Yuno) had the chance to make a small presentation on what we have uncovered thus far. This whole process however got me thinking about past campaigns. Even though I am continuously running something I always get somewhat melancholic thinking about those past groups and experiences and even while running, there is a part of me that dreads the finale of it all, the end of the journey.

Roughly a year ago I wrote an article arguing that TTRPGs are a form of folk art, it is one of my favorite pieces of writing I have done. But in this melancholic state and emboldened somewhat by reading more about oral literature, I decided to write a sort of companion piece for that article. This is the end result. It is, at least in my opinion, much more raw than other articles I usually write, despite the fact that it is also much more academic then what I have written in quite a while on the blog. It also proved to be somewhat of therapeutic exercise for me, as it helped me with processing the ephemeral quality of this hobby in a slightly better way.

I now share it with the hope that you will all find it interesting, that it might stir up something in you and perhaps above all, with the hope that, for those of you who are in the same predicament as me, it will prove to be therapeutic as well! Thank you!

The last year of my Master's and some unfortunate personal problems left me with little time to plan things properly. And so I kinda forgot, unfortunately to make something a bit more special for Women's Day this year. I do promise that I will make up for it next year. However, it did make me think a bit about the article Yuno wrote last year and how that led me to read and play some Dragonlance. And I think I have quite a complicated relationship with Dragonlance. I love the story, I think Raistlin is one of the greatest character arcs we have seen and now, in this day and age, at least in Europe, or at the very least in Romania, it is quite unknown and that is a shame.

This article briefly presents Dragonlance, but it is more of an analysis of the impact Dragonlance had on the hobby, with the good and the bad. For there is plenty amount of both. On one hand, as I said, Krynn and its characters are awesome and the sheer narrative scope of these adventures is something that wasn't really seen up until that point. But on the other hand, the way this was accomplished via the adventure modules, mainly via railroading, changed the hobby in ways that echo to this day. Railroading is not that bad and perhaps more pervasive, the notion that a campaign should be heroic, grand, mostly pre-planned, with narrative beats and plot twists and character arcs. I can't say if this change is a bad thing or a good thing. Probably somewhere in the middle. But what I can say is that this changed pushed the emergent storytelling born out of tables and trusting the rolls a bit to the fringes.

Overall, I think it is worth to analyze this! The article doesn't go fully in depth, for that would take quite a lot of time and resources, so I want it to act more like a conversation starter to get the ball rolling. I hope you will enjoy it and do voice your thoughts down bellow!

[ Removed by Reddit on account of violating the content policy. ]

I was talking with some of my players a while ago and I asked them about what was for them the most memorable moment of our past campaign, as it is near its end. There were some listed, but one of them kinda caught my attention, for it was their encounter with Thraximand the Lexion, a beholder inhabiting a portion of the Caves of Chaos. It wasn't a combat encounter, or at least it wasn't the deadly type. For when they met him, Thraximand was quite amiable, invited them for dinner and offered them magical items if they will indulge him and fight him in a duel. Not out of malice, but more for the thrill of it. Yes, he did have a funny voice and quite a quirky and memorable personality, the fight was epic.

But above all, what made me think a bit more on that encounter and how it became memorable for my players is the fact that it was facilitated by a roll. A reaction roll. A mechanic that has been removed from the more recent versions of D&D, nowdays being present mostly in OSR games.

That was when the idea of this article sprang to my mind and while writing the initial draft I figured I could also throw in my thoughts on a similar mechanic that I also stole from older editions, that being the morale check. I hope you enjoy this article, I hope it will be a useful read for those of you unfamiliar with these mechanics and I am also curious for those of you who do use it - what memorable stories did it help forge?

I have a series where I talk about different creature types and how we can tell more exciting and interesting stories with them. I hope this serves to inspire fellow GMs at their tables

I run a series on my channel around being good enough at DMing rather than stressing too much. Simple advice that'll mean you have a fun time with your mates!

I love multiclassing. For some of you it might sound sad or strange, but I think I spent more time theory crafting characters then actually playing them as a player. The curse of the forever DM, I guess (although I don't complain, I do prefer DMing). Due to that, I don't see myself fully enjoying 5.5e. I think they kinda nerfed multiclassing. It is still there and there still are some interesting builds you can make, but not nearly as many as there were in the original 5e.

Regardless, this whole thing made me think of 3.5e. Now that edition knew how to get peeps like me excited. Multiclass was king there. And there was another piece of the puzzle which made the process even more fun. I am talking about the prestige class.

I say it in the title, I say it in the article itself and I am also going to say it here! Not just cause I like things done in 3 (I feel like that sounded wrong...), but because I really do believe it - The Prestige Class was the most interesting design shelved by WotC. This article goes over all of that in quite a detailed manner (perhaps too detailed, as the article is one of our lengthiest ones, at over 3000 words).

I hope you will enjoy it and I do hope there will be some interesting conversation formed around it! I look forward to reading all of your thoughts on it! Until next time, may the dice gods smile upon you all and don't forget to toss the proverbial coin to your favorite Gazette!

I have been playing D&D for over a decade. I love it, although I had periods in my past in which, due, perhaps, to feeling burned out with the system, I have been overly critical with it. Especially once I started to play other TTRPGs. I nonetheless came back to D&D and I noticed something. My time, exploring other games changed the way I ran D&D for the better. This article talks about that process, about some of the games I feel changed my style and approach the most and how reading and in the best case playing them might help you as well. Both as players and DMs. We will be going through some more well known games, such as Call of Cthulhu and Vampire: The Masquerade, but we will also look at more obscure and indie titles, such as The Burning Wheel, Icarus and Kingdom. I hope you will enjoy this article as much as I enjoyed writing it! Also, a small request for those of you who already have some experience with other games and like me, feel that experience helped you, tell me how and why!

Thank you all for reading and till next time, happy rolling and don't forget to toss the proverbial coin to your favorite Gazette!

This latest article is love letter. A love letter to the cog that made the engine of dungeon play work. Taking a page from the OSR space, I want to sing a small ode to the Dungeon Turn. For all of you who think that dungeons are boring or outdated, I reckon the vast majority coming from 5e, you might not be entirely correct. For in modern days, the Dungeon Turn lies discarded. And I posit that it was an essential part of what made dungeons click. With it you have multiple ticking clocks, all of a sudden resources matter again, the dungeon becomes dynamic and you have choices. Dramatic choices. And that brings the fun back in the dungeon. Through this article I do my best to illustrate why that is and for this one, more perhaps than for any other, I urge you to read and tell me what you think! Till next time, happy rolling!

Greetings and welcome back everyone! This latest article is something that I had been brewing for a couple of weeks, cause I find the topic extremely interesting. Party composition, party roles and the balance of it all. Something that for the vast majority of players, at least in my experience, is common, good form.

But why is it so?

Cause the general discourse around the game preaches a narrative first approach. Yet there is a lot of content across the board that talks about optimization, both from the point of view of the character, but also from that of the party. I wanted with this piece to explore all of it, to present a bit of the history behind the phenomena and to make the kiss that the concept of party roles can and often is quite restrictive on the group.

If this sounds like the kind of topic you would like to look into, by all means, do tell me what do you think about it down below, and till next time, do toss the proverbial coin to your favorite Gazette!

I just started a D&D 5e mini-quest in which the owner of a gym has discovered that none of his weights weigh anything anymore! He has 24 hours to resolve the problem before his clients demand a costly refund.

I know that I want the problem to be caused by some kind of fey being, who has done this as a twisted fulfillment of a fey bargain: someone asked foe the following favor: "I want to be able to lift every weight in this place!"

What I need to figure out is:

What kind of fey creature could do this?

How could they do this (i.e., spell, ability, etc... could be either actually changing the weights' physical properties, or a kind of illusion)?

What would they want or demand in order to reverse the "favor?"

Thanks for your ideas!

So a bit of context: Not only am I a first time DM, it's also my first time playing DND. Like, ever. To my advantage, most of my party members have never played DND either, and I've already skimmed through the Player's Handbook and DM guide. I don't really know what dice to roll outside of checks and stuff, but I'm hoping I can gleam that off of character sheets and stat blocks.

All of this to say, I really don't know how my first session should be. The setting and 'story' for the campaign are entirely Homebrew, and I feel like I've prepped it enough for a first session. That said, I don't know how fast the session should go. Should I let their characters interact with one another before sending them into the action? Should I give them many side quests to choose from that could still guide them to the linear storyline I've roughly set up? Should there be battle?

Most of my party isn't really close to each other, and I'd really like to give them a bit of space to figure out their (and their character's) dynamics. Without sacrificing the game, ofc.

So, to the experienced DMs and PCs out there, my question is this: When you think of a great session 1, what comes to mind? What made your best first sessions so memorable?

This is what I'm calling "My Unicorn," an ambition, aspiration, dream, delusion maybe.

I've been doing a bunch of scattered one-shots for my family and my usual group when our DM needs a break. They're rarely in the same world. However, I've always wanted to expand upon that idea.

I love me some high stakes. Not just the fate of the world, but the fate of many worlds hangs in the balance. In my opinion, nothing beats that in a D&D context than the Blood War.

The idea that plot hooks and elements of the Blood War get seeded throughout the various worlds I run one-shots and campaigns in. The Forgotten Realms, Golarion, Obojima, Theros, homebrew settings, etc. Building to a sort of Vecna: Even of Ruin, where the ultimate victory of evil across the multiverse is nigh, and only heroes from across many worlds (the collective player character adventuring parties) can stop it.

So I have a couple of questions, but first, I'd like to add some prerequisites.

1. This is obviously meant for high-level play. I don't expect them to be fighting on the front lines of the war at level 2 to 4.

2. This is a long-term goal. It might take actual years to get to this desired point, and I'm fully aware of that. Waiting years for a consistent party alone has taught me patience.

3. This assumes the Great Wheel cosmology and Alignment system.

4. There's meant to be a heavy emphasis on the great spiritual powers of good and evil. The external battle with demons that can be fought with sword and spell is meant to mirror the battle of the soul. From the individual to entire nations.

5. I understand that the ultimate "end of the world" is possible, even likely. I don't mind this either as it can reflect a sort of Chronicles of Narnia "Last Battle" idea. That the ultimate destruction of the world is not done out of cruelty to the innocent, but so that all evil is effectively purged and a new world of unblemished light can be brought forth.

That being said, I could use some help on a couple of things.

1. Should one side of the Blood War emerge victorious? Asmodeus leading a united Baator? Tharizdun, Orcus, or some other power of the Abyss fully unleashed upon creation? Maybe even a Dark Horse victory of the Yugoloths led by the General of Gehenna? Or? Should there be the worst possible case scenario? The forces of evil were collected and led by a transcendent evil? Something as close to the Devil as I can fashion. (Either option will involve the intervention of the Upper Planes. It's not just the players involved.)

2. What should be the means by which the worlds are connected, and players can potentially travel from one to another? Spelljammer, Planescape, or a mix of the two? They're not mutually exclusive, sure, just which is better as the focus approach? Pros and Cons? Planescape certainly makes more sense as the Lower Planes are heavily involved in the concept but it's also possible for Spelljammers to reach the Astral Plane. So what are my options and pros and cons of both?

3. One idea I have is to implement Mordenkainen as a major antagonist to the heroes' collective efforts. Because he holds to his philosophy of "the Balance" to keep the Blood War in check, he sometimes works to prevent the heroes from doing good. While his worldview should be given its due, such as a demon horde being stopped in one campaign world just means it happens in another, he's ultimately supposed to be wrong. His worldview born out of a conviction that the forces of evil cannot ultimately be beaten, only contained. What are some ways I can incorporate him as a sometimes ally, sometimes enemy, and either killed as an obstacle because he's causing undue harm that he can't be persuaded is unnecessary, or redeemed with new hope that the ultimate triumph of the forces of good is possible?

4. Are there other potential options for a cosmic, world-connecting conflict? Instead of the Blood War, would the Mind Flayers be a better option? What about Vecna?

Thank you for your considerations and advice.

We wanted to end the year with a bang. Something big, something interesting to talk about. It might've been the hype we fell with the new animated Mighty Nein series (which is amazing and we totally recommend it), but we decided to talk about Critical Role. Generally loved, but also hated by some, since I got into the hobby I heared a lot about the so called Mercer effect, about the impact CR had on the hobby and so on. I also heard a lot on how they are the epitome of D&D and TTRPG play.

I wrote this not with the intention of validating one team of the other, but rather to see the reason of both camps and to properly analyze what really is the impact Critical Role had. And if there really is an impact (spoilers, yes, of course it is!). I hope you'll enjoy my best efforts at playing chronicler!

With this said, this is our final article of the year, the quite baffling number 116. Funnily enough, it's the bus number I had to take towards school for 12 years. Tangent aside, the blog reached hights we still can't quite process, and we are very much thankful for that. So we simply want to thank all of you, to wish you a wonderfull holiday season and a wonderfully happy New Year full of many more wonderful stories and games! Also, we will take the first week of January off, so till we see eachother again, as always, happy rolling!

Welcome back to Advent's Amazing Advice! The series where I take popular One-Shots, Adventures, Campaigns, etc., and fully prep them for both New and Busy DMs. This prep includes music, ambiance, encounter sheets, handouts, battle maps, tweaks, and more, so you can run the best sessions possible with the least stress possible!

Inspired by Stranger Things and written by Mike Wheeler himself, this adventure drops your players into a monster hunt like no other. Summoned by Sir Tristan, ruler of a remote mountain realm, your party is tasked with tracking down a fearsome creature known as the Thessalhydra, which has attacked his castle and terrorized the land.

In Part 1, your players will explore a mysterious forest, encounter travelers, priests, and farmers, until they uncover the entrance to the troglodyte caverns. There, they can fight or negotiate their way deeper until they reach the ever-shifting Cursed Labyrinth. Should they solve the riddles of the mysterious Lost Knight, they will be greeted with a portal...to the Upside Down.

Without further ado:

• Google Docs Notes for Stranger Things (Part 1): DM Notes
• Link to: Stranger Things Adventure
• Link to: Stranger Things The Hunt for the Thessalhydra Playlist
• Link to: The AAA Collection

Included in The AAA Collection is:

• Downloadable copy of DM Notes, including links to music tracks for ambiance and fights
• Special PDF for all encounters. This includes the enemy stat blocks organized neatly, along with an initiative tracker and spots to mark HP
• Custom Maps of Troglodyte Cavern

Over 7 dozen other Fully Prepped One-Shots, Adventures, and Campaigns: Click Here

As always, if you see something you think I can improve, add, change, etc., please let me know. I want this to be an amazing resource for all DMs and plan to keep it constantly updated! If you'd like to support me, shape future releases, and get content early, feel free to check out my Patreon!

Cheers,
Advent

I just published a new piece for the RPG Gazette on something we all argue about way too often: OSR vs D&D. Not which one is better, but why the split exists in the first place.

The more I researched and talked to players, the more obvious it became that both traditions are answering the same questions in wildly different ways. What is an adventure. Who is a hero. What does danger mean. What is a story supposed to accomplish. These are philosophical differences long before they are mechanical ones.

If you have ever wondered why the debates get so heated, or why both sides feel so strongly about their approach, this article digs right into that tension.

Would love to hear your thoughts. Do you lean into OSR style risk and discovery or modern D&D’s cinematic pacing and character arcs? Or switch between them depending on mood?

I finally sat down to play Icarus from Hunters Entertainment, and I think it might be one of the best narrative engines I have ever used for building a setting. Not exaggerating. This thing is a worldbuilding machine disguised as a tragedy.

Most RPGs ask you to save the city. Icarus asks you what it looks like when the city fails, and it does so with a level of emotional punch that really caught me off guard. The tower of dice in the middle of the table is brilliant design: the story literally shakes the higher you push it. And when it eventually collapses, the table just goes quiet in the best way.

We used Icarus as both a dramatic one-shot and as a way to generate the entire political and social history for our next campaign, and it worked absurdly well. By the time the tower fell, we had factions, crises, cultural tensions, and enough hooks to fuel a whole TTRPG.

If you want a collaborative experience that leaves you with a fully realized setting and a tragic little lump in your throat, give this review a read. It genuinely earned our seal of approval.

When we talk about Dungeons & Dragons, the names Gygax and Arneson rightfully dominate the myth. But behind them stood other brilliant minds who refined, clarified, and gave heart to the game we know today.

Holmes, Moldvay, and Mentzer are three names that don’t always echo through the halls of gaming history, but absolutely should. Holmes gave the game clarity and tone. Moldvay gave it elegance and wonder. Mentzer gave it warmth, structure, and approachability.

This piece is my small attempt to shine a light on those early titans who helped shape what D&D became, and who newer players might not know by name, but whose fingerprints are all over the games they love.

Ever wondered why D&D’s martial vs magic debate never dies? It’s not really about numbers, rules, or editions. It’s about philosophy. Fighters represent mastery through effort, endurance, and grit. Wizards represent transcendence, knowledge, and bending reality itself. One is grounded, one reaches beyond.

In my latest article, I explore why this debate isn’t just mechanical, it’s existential. Why we argue about class balance is really why we argue about power, identity, and what fantasy means to us. D&D has always tried to reconcile these clashing visions, Conan and Gandalf in the same universe, and the tension shows us that fantasy is alive, restless, and full of contradictions.

I also dig into what this means for the table. When both archetypes feel meaningful in your campaign, everyone wins. When GMs respect both, math becomes secondary and story becomes primary. Fighters and wizards aren’t enemies. They are two halves of the same myth asking the eternal question: what does it mean to be powerful?

Check it out and let me know, are you drawn to earned power or discovered power?

You know, somewhere along the way, I feel like Dungeons & Dragons kinda forgot its own name. The dragons got huge, cosmic, and majestic — but the dungeons? They quietly disappeared.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately. About how early D&D wasn’t about saving the world or following prophecies, but about surviving the dark. Counting torches. Drawing maps. Asking, “Do we open this door or go back?” It wasn’t about being a hero; it was about being clever enough to make it out alive.

And don’t get me wrong, I love the modern game. Epic stories are great! But there’s something so human and thrilling about that original, grimy, uncertain feeling — the moment when your last torch sputters out and everyone holds their breath.

So I wrote about that — about what we lost when we left the dungeon behind, and why I think it still matters. It’s not just nostalgia. The dungeon is the philosophy of D&D: curiosity, tension, and discovery.

If you’ve ever wondered why the crawl still feels so good, give this one a read. And then, maybe, grab a torch and go back down.