The Characters We Fell in Love With

 

You don’t always expect it. Sometimes you just make a character for fun — maybe you picked the class because it sounded cool or because your group needed a rogue. You wrote a short backstory, gave them a weird voice or a quirk, maybe made a joke about their name. And then somehow, after a few sessions… they stuck. They lived. They became more than numbers and gear. And you realize: you kind of love this character.

It’s happened to me more than once. I’ve made so many characters over the years that I’ve lost count — some were hilarious disasters, some never got off the ground, and some felt like pure magic. Like a halfling assassin who was cheerful, bubbly, and incredibly deadly. That contrast — evil and happy-go-lucky — just worked. I didn’t know if she’d last long, but I always felt that sooner or later, her luck would run out. It was like her destiny was to end badly. And yet she kept going. The more I played, the more I wanted to see what she’d do next.

She was originally created for a game inspired by the book series War of the Spider Queen — a dark, twisty world that got me thinking about what a party of evil characters might look like. Not a carbon copy of the books, but our own cast. And mine was the cheerful killer. Evil, yes — but fun. Naive. Playful. And I was hooked.

And it’s not just her. I’ve had a super lawful halfling paladin named Nakia, part of a game where our characters were loosely inspired by cellphone brands. I’ve played a Drow wizard who escaped the Underdark and became a naturalist, completely fascinated by magical beasts of the surface world, while still being hunted by Lolth’s priesthood. Each of them had their own charm, their own spark. And none of them ended up exactly how I imagined.

Sometimes I start with a concept, but once I begin playing, the character starts changing. Evolving. Sometimes the dice guide that change, sometimes it's just a moment of inspiration, or something unexpected another player says. When you play in a group, your PC doesn’t exist in a vacuum — they bounce off the others, reflect them, push them, get changed by them. And if the campaign lasts long enough, you can look back and see how they grew.

That’s one of the best parts: the character surprises you. They become more alive than you intended.

When that happens, the game starts spilling out of the game. I start writing stories, drawing scenes, imagining their life beyond the campaign. I use them in solo games, or sneak them into my world as NPCs when I GM. It’s like having a playlist you never get tired of — they keep giving. Sometimes they become a kind of creative fuel. Not just for playing, but for everything else.

And honestly, I consider doing all that other stuff — drawing, writing, thinking about them — just another way of playing. Especially in solo games. In fact, sometimes I’ll use the same character in solo and group games, or recycle them as important NPCs when I GM. That character becomes part of my toolbox. A familiar spark I can bring out again.

That doesn’t mean I feel emotionally attached in a sentimental way. I don’t cry over them or see them as friends. But I do enjoy them. I feel protective of them, the way I feel protective of any story or thing I’ve created. They become mine in a way that’s hard to explain — like a favorite brush or character sketch or theme song.

Yes, theme song! That’s something else I’ve seen people do — and it’s honestly one of the coolest ways to bring your character to life. Pick a song that fits their mood, their goals, their vibe. Or go further and compose something original. It’s another form of expression, another way to explore who they are.

I also read somewhere about doing an interview with your character — like, literally pretending to be a journalist and asking them deep, personal questions. It's not my idea, but it stuck with me. It’s a fun exercise, and it can really help you figure out how your character thinks, talks, and reacts.

Then there’s the visual side. Some people cosplay their characters. Others commission artists to bring them to life. You can print custom miniatures, or even go big and make a full-on statuette. I’ve seen people invest in all kinds of physical mementos, and it’s always touching — like honoring a story that meant something.

One of my favorite stories I came across was about a guy who found his dad’s old character sheet in a box of dusty D&D stuff. Turns out, he’d been named after that character. That’s how deep this stuff can go. I even read about someone who named their publishing company after one of their old PCs. I love that.

Here’s the truth: not every character you make will be a masterpiece. That’s fine. You need the throwaway ones, the failed ones, the weird experiments. Because somewhere in that process, you’ll hit gold. You’ll find one that clicks. And that’s why I always encourage people — especially new players — to keep making characters. Go weird, go big, go too dramatic. Play with archetypes. Break them. Make five different tieflings until one of them sings.

Characters aren’t just vessels for stats. They’re mirrors, windows, and sometimes little pieces of ourselves exaggerated and let loose. We can be brave through them, or reckless, or curious. We can test emotions we don’t always get to explore in everyday life. And when we fall in love with them — not just because they’re cool, but because they feel real — it reminds us why we love stories in the first place.

It’s a great experience. I recommend it 100%.

And if you’re just starting? Don’t worry if your first character doesn’t land. Keep creating. Keep trying things. Try giving them theme songs. Try writing interviews. Draw them, or commission someone to. Write them poems or dumb journal entries. Let yourself explore. Let yourself play.

Because all this? It’s creativity. And whether you’re shy or bold, serious or silly, this kind of play does something good to your brain. It boosts creativity. It builds confidence. It lets you create something that’s yours — fully yours — and share it if you want.

Just keep going until you find the one that hits you right in the creative core — the one that makes you laugh, or draw, or stay up at night thinking about their next move.

That’s your spark.

That’s the character you fell in love with.

If you’ve got a character you love — or you’ve just started making one you’re curious about — I’d love to hear about it. Share your stories, your drawings, your playlists, whatever you’ve made. Leave a comment, send me a message, or tag me if you’ve posted it elsewhere.

And if you haven’t tried this yet… what are you waiting for? Make a character. Let them surprise you. Then make another.

You never know which one you’ll fall in love with.

We Live Many Lives: TTRPGs, The Inner Light, and That One Time I Was a Lich King

 

There’s this Star Trek: The Next Generation episode called The Inner Light. Even if you’re not a Trekkie, hear me out.

Captain Picard gets zapped by a mysterious space probe (as one does), passes out for a few minutes, and wakes up living someone else’s life on a peaceful planet. New name, new wife, new everything. He spends decades there—grows old, learns to play the flute, raises a family. And then, poof. Back to the Enterprise. The planet’s gone. The people are gone. The whole thing was a memory implant—this extinct civilization’s way of being remembered.

But here’s the thing: it changed him.

That episode came to mind the other day, and I couldn’t stop thinking—maybe we’re all having little Inner Light moments when we play TTRPGs.

---

The Lives We Roll Into

I’ve played a lot of characters. Some were dumb. Some were funny. Some were powerful. Some were disasters. And a few… a few left a mark.

No, they’re not “real.” I get that. They don’t go to work or eat cereal. But the emotions? Those were real. The tension when the rogue had to betray the party to save her sister. The joy when the warlock finally broke her pact and lived. The heartbreak when the paladin died alone, still believing.

Emotions are the only thing that really anchor us to life. Otherwise it’s just scenes flying by.

So when I say I’ve lived many lives, I mean it. Not in a “past life” kind of way—but through dice, stories, drawing characters, and creating worlds. I’ve walked in shoes that weren’t mine. I’ve felt things I wouldn’t have in my normal, relatively quiet life (which involves zero dragons, by the way).

---

Why It Sticks

The randomness is part of the magic. In a novel, you control the outcome. In a TTRPG? The dice laugh at your plans. Characters start one way and end up somewhere completely different. They grow. They change. Sometimes they surprise you.

And even if I don’t go full method-actor immersion while playing, those characters linger. I think about them later. I write stories about them. I draw them. I reuse them. Sometimes they show up in other campaigns. Or as NPCs. Or as weird little ghosts in my stories. They’re not gone—they just evolved.

And they remind me of the people I played with. Friends who aren’t in my life anymore. Late-night laughs. Emotional moments. Pizza on the character sheet. All that stays.

---

What Is a Life, Anyway?

A life is a collection of memories and feelings. That’s it.

So if I experienced something with depth—grief, joy, regret—even if it was inside a made-up world, isn’t that a kind of life?

I’m not trying to get all philosophical, but I am saying this: creating makes us live more. Some folks say reading does that, and sure, it does. But creating is more intimate. It’s more personal. It gets under your skin. You’re not just imagining someone’s life—you’re being them, just for a while.

Even if everything around us is fake—a matrix, a dream, a brain in a jar—the emotions still count.

---

Why I Keep Coming Back

I don’t know why everyone plays TTRPGs. Some people love the strategy. Some love the math. Some just want to hit stuff with a sword. That’s cool.

But me? I come back because it lets me feel things I wouldn’t normally get to feel. It’s a way to explore ideas, emotions, and lives I’d never touch otherwise. A safe way to live other lives. To go on journeys that challenge me, or surprise me, or just make me laugh.

And the best part? When a campaign ends, you don’t lose that life. You carry it with you. Like Picard and his flute. A little piece of a world that doesn’t exist anymore… but changed you anyway.

So yeah. Maybe none of this is real. But it feels real. And that’s enough.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go write about that time I ran a game where the big bad evil lich got teleported to our world—straight into Comicon—by the party of heroes.

Roleplaying Is Basically Art Therapy in Disguise

Art therapy teaches us something simple but powerful: creating helps. Drawing, painting, writing—whatever the medium, it lets you express things you might not know how to say out loud. It helps you understand your feelings, reduce stress, and work through your thoughts. You don’t have to be a professional or even "good at it"—you just have to do it.

Now, look at roleplaying games.

You create a character—not just rolling stats, but imagining who they are, where they come from, what they want, what they regret. Sometimes you pour in little pieces of yourself without realizing it. Sometimes you build someone completely different from you—someone you want to understand or become. That process alone already touches on identity, self-reflection, even healing.

Then you build a world. It might be a creepy dungeon, a haunted kingdom, or a peaceful forest where mushrooms talk—but that’s storytelling. That’s symbolism. You’re creating a place where ideas and feelings live. It’s not always conscious, but it reflects you. Sometimes you design the kind of world you wish existed. Other times, you explore your fears or frustrations through fictional conflict.

Improvising scenes, acting out dialogue, reacting emotionally in character—that’s expression. Real expression. You’re trying out different responses, different personas. You can be brave, angry, heartbroken, charming... and it’s safe, because it’s a game. But your brain doesn’t fully treat it like fiction. It learns from those emotional experiences. It processes them.

And it’s not just at the table. You might draw your character. Write their journal. Build props. Paint miniatures. Make a playlist or theme song. Create handouts or maps. That’s artistic output. That’s craft. That’s you turning imagination into something real, something visible. And every little act of creating—even scribbles or nonsense ideas—is still working your emotional and cognitive muscles.

It’s a whole ecosystem of art. Of creativity. Of personal exploration.

Psychology even has names for this stuff:

Narrative Identity: We understand ourselves through story. When we create characters, backstories, and arcs, we’re playing with identity—ours and others’.

Flow State: That feeling when you’re so into drawing or writing or running a scene that time disappears? That’s flow. It’s good for your brain. It lowers stress and increases focus and happiness.

Constructive Imagination: Pretending isn’t “just playing”—it’s how we explore possibilities. We can mentally rehearse real feelings and test reactions in a fictional setting.

Creative Self-Efficacy: Believing you can create makes you want to create more. Every little success, every drawing finished, scene played, or idea shared builds confidence and emotional resilience.

All of this is what art therapy aims for. But a lot of us have already been doing it, just... with dice and dragons.

Roleplaying games give us the tools to imagine, create, and express in ways that are playful and profound. They’re collaborative, emotional, artistic experiences that can have real benefits—whether you're aware of it or not.

So if you’ve ever felt better after a session, or discovered something about yourself through a character, or calmed down just by painting minis or drawing your wizard... now you know why.

Roleplaying is art therapy in disguise.

You don’t need permission to benefit from it. You just need to keep playing.

From Solo Roleplay to Storytelling: How Red Noir Quest Turned Into Something More

 

It started with a solo game.

I wanted to try an evil adventuring party—not something super grim or edgy, more like something dark but fun. A little twisted, but with some charm too. So I created the characters, and then, like always, I drew them. I'm constantly drawing characters and coming up with story ideas. That’s just how my brain works, I guess. But as I started playing through the opening scenes, I began to feel like there was more here. Something worth keeping. Something I might want to turn into a proper story.

That’s how Red Noir Quest began.

 

Drawing has always been my thing. It helps me relax. It’s like entering a flow state, like reaching into a dream. But it’s not always about starting with a drawing. Sometimes it begins with a scene idea or a bit of dialogue. Sometimes with a map. Writing, drawing, solo games—they all talk to each other. I bounce between them all the time, and they feed each other.

 

What I love about solo roleplay is the freedom. There’s no pressure to please anyone else, so I can explore whatever I want. Weird emotions, bad decisions, morally gray stuff—things I might not throw into a group game right away. I can be honest with the story because it’s just me. And sometimes it gets pretty intense, ha.

Eventually, Red Noir Quest started to feel like something I wanted to share. So I began cutting the extra dark stuff and reshaping it. I kept the tone playful but gave it weight. I created a map, wrote up the world, the kingdom, the queen, even details that didn’t end up in the final story—but they helped me understand the world better.

And I didn’t stop playing either. I kept running little solo scenes just to get to know the characters better. That’s something I always recommend: roleplaying your characters—especially in solo—helps a lot with their development. You discover new things about them as you go. You add stuff. You take things away. They evolve naturally as you play.

That’s pretty much my creative process. First, I just let everything pour out. No filter. If it feels good, I go with it. Then, if it seems like it has potential, I take time to polish it and turn it into something I can show the world. But the fun part is always the beginning—that moment when an idea just wants out.

I also take inspiration from my solo games into my group campaigns. NPCs, plots, whole encounters sometimes come from solo stuff I played around with. It’s like a testing ground. A sketchbook with dice.

What I’m trying to say is: if you enjoy creating, but feel stuck, or you think you're “not that creative”—don’t worry about that. Just make stuff. Open your notes app and write down a weird idea. Draw something silly. Play a random scene in your head or on paper and see what happens. The first version doesn’t have to be great. It just needs to exist. You can clean it up later.

And if nothing’s coming out? Take a break. Go for a walk. Doodle. Take a nap—seriously. I get vivid dreams and sometimes they hand me ideas I never would've come up with on my own. Resting helps more than forcing it.

Red Noir Quest didn’t start as a book. It started with curiosity. With play. With sketches. And that’s how most good things start, honestly—not with a big goal, but just doing the thing you enjoy.

So draw. Write. Play. Let it be messy. Let it be weird. Let it be yours.

You never know what it’ll become.

Check out Red Noir Quest – A story born from solo roleplaying, full of mystery, charm, and dark fun. Illustrated with original art and written from the heart.

 

 

Playing Isn't Immature: How Hobbies Keep You Grounded

Why Hobbies Like Playing Games and Collecting Toys Are Not Immature for Adults

I'm writing this article because I recently read a post about how this generation is labeled as immature for collecting toys, playing video games, and watching anime. Honestly, this notion frustrates me. Why are we still stuck in the outdated belief that enjoying hobbies somehow makes you less mature? It’s time to set the record straight: playing games, collecting toys, and enjoying creative outlets like anime and tabletop RPGs is not only normal but beneficial. Let me explain why we, as adults, should confidently embrace these hobbies.

The Benefits of Hobbies: Joy, Relaxation, and Stress Relief

Hobbies can bring immense joy and relaxation, and adults are no exception to this. Engaging in activities like gaming or collecting toys offers a break from the grind of daily responsibilities. It's absurd to think that you have to give up what you love just because of your age. Whether it’s sitting down to play a video game after work or adding to your action figure collection, these moments of enjoyment are part of what makes life fulfilling.

Hobbies serve as mental escapes, giving individuals the chance to recharge and relieve stress. When life gets overwhelming, these outlets can be a form of self-care. There’s nothing immature about taking time to enjoy yourself in healthy, fulfilling ways.

Shifting Societal Perceptions: Hobbies Aren’t Just for Kids Anymore

Let’s get this clear: societal views are changing. The old stereotype that hobbies like gaming or collecting are for kids is being challenged more and more. There are entire industries now catering to adult hobbyists, whether that’s complex board games, advanced action figure collections, or even video games designed for mature audiences. The market recognizes that adults enjoy these hobbies, and so should society at large. It’s time to let go of the assumption that hobbies are childish.

The Role of Nostalgia: Reliving Positive Childhood Experiences

One of the reasons adults return to childhood hobbies is nostalgia. There’s real value in reconnecting with the activities that brought you joy growing up. Collecting toys, revisiting classic video games, or participating in familiar hobbies can evoke positive memories and provide emotional comfort during stressful times.

Personally, I feel more atemporal—I don’t share that strong sense of nostalgia that drives many others. However, I fully understand its appeal. Many people find comfort in revisiting these hobbies, whether it’s watching old anime or replaying a favorite game from childhood. This connection to the past helps many manage stress, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Cognitive and Social Benefits: Not Just Fun, But Growth

Hobbies like gaming and collecting toys aren’t just about having fun—they can also contribute to cognitive and social development. For instance, playing video games can enhance problem-solving skills, hand-eye coordination, and strategic thinking.

And let’s not forget about tabletop RPGs (TTRPGs) like Dungeons & Dragons. These games are incredible for encouraging creativity, collaborative storytelling, and critical thinking. Players are constantly solving puzzles, managing complex narratives, and engaging in meaningful social interactions. These activities foster skills that go far beyond the game itself, making them a valuable part of personal growth.

Collecting toys or engaging in a complex game isn’t just about passing time. It’s about fostering curiosity, learning new things, and developing patience and focus. Whether you're playing an online game or organizing a collection, these hobbies require thought and engagement that are undeniably beneficial.

The Mental Health Impact: Hobbies as Stress Relievers

Hobbies are one of the best tools we have for managing stress and improving mental health. Engaging in something you love—whether it’s a game, a collection, or even a tabletop RPG session—helps release the tension of everyday life. The positive effects of immersing yourself in a world, whether virtual or imagined, cannot be understated.

A fantastic example of how gaming can support mental health, even into later years, is the Silver Snipers, an eSports team of senior players from Sweden, with some members well into their 80s. These incredible gamers show that not only is gaming for everyone, but it can also be a key to staying mentally sharp and socially connected as you age. Through their shared passion for gaming, the Silver Snipers have built a supportive community and combat feelings of isolation, while keeping their minds active and engaged. It's a great reminder that hobbies like gaming can be a powerful tool for maintaining mental well-being, no matter your age.

The Immaturity Stereotype: What Do Naysayers Think is "Mature"?

Here’s where my frustration comes in: I find it ridiculous that people still call hobbies like gaming or collecting toys "immature." What, exactly, do they think makes someone mature? Is it spending your weekends drinking or reading business magazines all day? Come on. True maturity isn't defined by your hobbies; it’s defined by how you handle your responsibilities.

Paying your bills, taking care of your loved ones, managing your life—that’s maturity. If you’re taking care of your duties, there’s absolutely no reason why you shouldn’t indulge in your hobbies. If playing games or collecting brings you joy, who has the right to judge? We need to stop pretending that growing up means abandoning the things we love. It’s about balance, not restricting ourselves based on outdated societal expectations.

The Example for Future Generations

Embracing our hobbies also sets an excellent example for future generations. By continuing to pursue activities like gaming or collecting, we’re showing younger generations that it’s okay to enjoy what they love, no matter their age. Creativity, fun, and play should never be outgrown, and children benefit from seeing adults who understand the importance of balance in life.

It’s important to show kids that hobbies are not something they need to abandon to be “mature.” Instead, they should learn that finding joy in life’s passions is essential to long-term happiness and mental well-being.

Conclusion: Follow Your Hobbies—They Matter

At the end of the day, hobbies like gaming, collecting toys, and watching anime are not immature. They are outlets for creativity, stress relief, and personal growth. In a world that demands constant seriousness and responsibility, these hobbies provide a necessary balance. So if you’re someone who loves video games, toys, or TTRPGs, embrace it unapologetically.

We should all encourage one another to pursue what makes us happy—because life’s too short to worry about outdated notions of maturity. Play your games, build your collections, and enjoy your hobbies with pride.

Why GMs and Solo Players Should Try Other Systems

It’s no secret that Dungeons & Dragons 5e has become the face of tabletop role-playing games for many people, especially those who started in the last decade. 5e is known for being beginner-friendly and straightforward, which is why it has captured such a large audience. But with that comes a certain level of attachment. For many, it’s not just the game they play—it’s the game that introduced them to the entire hobby. This creates a kind of “team D&D” mentality, where anything outside of 5e can feel off-brand, intimidating, or just not worth the effort.

But here’s the thing: for GMs and especially solo players, trying out different systems can have a massive impact on how you approach not only your games in general but even your D&D sessions. Now, I’m not saying you have to abandon 5e—far from it! In fact, broadening your horizons can help you appreciate 5e more while also bringing fresh ideas and perspectives to the table.
One of the reasons people resist trying other systems is that learning D&D might have felt like a huge effort in itself. Once you’ve gotten comfortable with something, why venture into the unknown? I get that. But the truth is, exploring new systems isn’t just about learning new rules—it’s about discovering different ways to handle the same aspects of role-playing games. This can be incredibly beneficial for GMs, who are always looking for new ideas, and for solo players, who love tinkering with systems to find their perfect fit.

Personally, I’ve found that rules-light systems work better for my solo play sessions. They give me the flexibility to focus more on narrative and immersion rather than juggling complex mechanics. But that’s just me. Some people prefer the other end of the spectrum, and that’s what makes solo role-playing so great—you can experiment until you find what works for you. Systems like World of Darkness, Cypher, and Dungeon World have all influenced how I think about storytelling, even though I still love to DM 5e or Pathfinder for others.

The benefits of trying other systems are clear. First, you’ll see that there’s more than one way to tackle the same elements of a game. Every system has its own take on mechanics like combat, skill checks, and role-playing, and exploring those can give you new insights into what works best for your group—or just for you. Second, trying different systems lets you compare. What works for your style of play? What doesn’t? And for solo gamers, this comparison is even more vital because you’re constantly fine-tuning your experience.

Finally, when you have a palette of different systems under your belt, you can start painting your own picture. You might not design an entirely new game, but you’ll definitely find yourself incorporating new ideas into your sessions, whether that’s in role-playing, world-building, or story development. Even if you prefer to run D&D 5e rules as written, you’ll find that trying other systems can influence your approach in subtle but powerful ways.

In the end, there’s no pressure to try dozens of new systems just for the sake of it. But for those who enjoy diving deeper into the world of role-playing games, there’s a lot to be gained by broadening your horizons. It can be as simple as reading a new rulebook or as immersive as diving headfirst into a different game. Either way, it’s all about expanding your understanding and making your games—whether they’re D&D or something else—that much better. And for solo players, the benefits are even more apparent.

The Last City 1 - A really open sand box

I've run this campaign two times and I'm currently running it a third time. My goal from the beginning was to make it as free of a sand box as possible and I'm happy with the results so far.

The premise of this setting is to make it a sandbox where the player's choices shape the story. Each time, it would evolve into a different story and experience. To that end I choose the following characteristics:

- The campaign starts in the last surviving city after a magical apocalypse.
- There are multiple factions some in opposition of each other.
- The PC's are new to the city so they don't know what to expect.

Freedom in character creation
The choice in making it post world destruction, without necessarily saying which world allows characters to pick where they came from—any world or campaign setting—as long as they still follow the character creation rules for the campaign. Since there was a magical apocalypse, having people transported from other realms is no problem, or justifying magical mutations, or other ways the characters can just be different or unique.

I would add that I have a small restriction for the tone of the campaign: No divine casters. Players may choose to play divine casters, but I prefer they don't. Still the general premises work without this restriction.

Freedom to choose
Of course, there has to be a framework for a campaign to work, or else it would be just pure improvisation, which I think is possible but not optimal.

So, freedom to choose what?

Well, any class or species in general as part of character creation. Although, I would advise players to have similar alignments to avoid creating conflict.

Freedom to choose allies and enemies.

The factions that rule the different districts have their motivations, needs, hates, and personalities. So, as a basic premise, there are some that are practically irreconcilable. That means that befriending one will necessarily make you an enemy of one or more other factions. For example, there is a faction known as the cannibal brutes, who are enemies of a faction of enchanters. If you befriend one, the other will most likely become your enemy. There are others with territorial disputes and so on. Other options, like fighting or befriending certain monsters, will also affect how other factions see you.

Freedom of movement
There is complete freedom of movement, but with a caveat. To justify "Difficulty Progression" the starting district, Agarpe, is protected by an aura created by a mysterious character. So, monsters closer to Agarpe are weaker than those farther away. Outside the city, there are only epic-level threats. However, characters can still go wherever they want.

Freedom for the GM to create and adapt
Due to the nature of the catastrophe, everything under the city is magically scrambled, so I can easily add dungeons or almost anything else and wherever you deem necessary.

I’ll dive deeper into the origins of the apocalypse in a future article.

My Tarod Card system for solo roleplaying

Introduction

Welcome to the Tarot Card System for solo role-playing, a unique and immersive way to enhance storytelling and gameplay in your tabletop RPG sessions. This system uses a standard deck of Tarot cards to determine the outcomes of various actions, combat scenarios, and tests. Each character in your party is assigned a specific suit based on their class or type, and a Major Arcana card that represents their core attributes and powers. By drawing cards during gameplay, you can resolve situations with a blend of fate and strategy, creating a dynamic and engaging narrative experience.

The suits—Cups, Staffs, Swords, and Pentacles—correspond to different character roles such as healer, caster, tank, and rogue. The Major Arcana adds an extra layer of depth, with each character’s Major Arcana card providing opportunities for critical successes and unique interactions. Whether you’re facing formidable foes or navigating complex challenges, the Tarot Card System brings an element of mysticism and unpredictability, ensuring that no two sessions are ever the same.

Card Suits and Affiliations

Character Types and Assigned Suits:

Cups: Healer
Staffs: Caster
Swords: Tank or Fighter
Pentacles: Expert or Rogue

Character Examples and Major Arcana Assignments:

Brangus Red, the minotaur tank: The Emperor
Valencia Vertex, the half-demon witch: Justice
Zakk Gibs, the humanoid tiger cleric: The Devil
Wila, the elf rogue: Death

Suit Order:

Card Draw Outcomes

Suit Draws:

Own Suit (Success): Drawing a card of the character’s own suit (e.g., Brangus drawing a Swords card) results in a success.
Next Suit Counterclockwise (Success with Mild Bad Consequence): Drawing a card of the next suit in counterclockwise order results in a success with a mild bad consequence.
Previous Suit Clockwise (Fail with Mild Good Consequence): Drawing a card of the previous suit in clockwise order results in a failure with some mild good consequence.
Opposite Suit (Fail): Drawing a card of the opposite suit results in a failure.
Card numbers determine how good or bad the outcome.

Major Arcana:


Any Major Arcana (Success): Drawing any Major Arcana card results in a success.
Own Major Arcana (Critical Success): Drawing the character’s own Major Arcana results in a critical success related to the character’s Major Arcana power.
Inverse of Own Major Arcana (Super Failure): Drawing the inverse of the character’s own Major Arcana results in a super failure.

Inverse Major Arcana (Fail): Drawing any Major Arcana card in its inverse position results in a failure.

Combat and Tests

Combat and Long Tests:

Characters are considered defeated if they take three attacks or wounds.

If they draw their inverse Major Arcana, it means something horrible has happened, possibly even death.
Combat and significant challenges may involve multiple rounds of card draws, with each round representing an attack or action.

Short Tests and Unimportant Combat:

Short tests or unimportant combat encounters are resolved with a single card draw.
Success or failure is determined based on the card draw according to the rules above.

Extended Tests:

At the DM’s discretion, certain tests may require more than one successful card draw to complete.

Example Combat: Party vs. Ogre (Single Card Draw)

Setup:

Party: Brangus Red (Swords), Valencia Vertex (Staffs), Zakk Gibs (Cups), and Wila (Pentacles).

Each character draws a card to determine their overall impact on the combat.

Draw Results:

Brangus Red: 7 of Swords (Success)
Valencia Vertex: 4 of Pentacles (Fail)
Zakk Gibs: Page of Swords (Fail)
Wila: Ace of Pentacles (Success)

Example combat Narrative:

As the ogre roars and charges at the party, Brangus Red steps forward, his sword gleaming in the dim light. With a powerful swing, he strikes the ogre with precision, leaving a deep, bleeding wound. The ogre staggers back but remains on its feet, enraged and ready to fight.

Valencia Vertex begins to weave her hands, calling upon her arcane powers. However, her concentration falters, and the spell dissipates before it can reach the ogre, leaving her momentarily frustrated and vulnerable.

Zakk Gibs, determined to support his allies, attempts to channel divine energy to weaken the ogre. Unfortunately, his spellcasting is interrupted, and the ogre remains unaffected by his efforts.

Meanwhile, Wila uses the chaos of the battle to her advantage. With agile movements, she slips behind the ogre and targets a vulnerable spot with her dagger. Her strike is true, and the ogre howls in pain as the blade finds its mark.

Despite the failures of Valencia and Zakk, the combined efforts of Brangus and Wila prove to be decisive. The ogre, now severely wounded and weakened, can no longer withstand the onslaught. With one final groan, it collapses to the ground, defeated.

The party stands victorious, having overcome the ogre through a blend of brute strength and cunning. They take a moment to catch their breath and tend to their wounds, ready to continue their journey with a renewed sense of camaraderie and accomplishment.