Amp: Year One

AMP: Year One, by +Eloy Lasanta of Third Eye Games, is a lower-powered supers game which evokes many of the best parts of the X-Men and Aberrant.

The world of AMP is our own world, next Sunday. Those with powers, called AMPs (Accelerated Mutant Potential), have only started to emerge and characters are on the ground floor of this brave new world, for better or worse. This is rather novel, since the vast majority of supers games with settings present an established world, full of heroes and villains already. It serves to emphasize the street-level feeling which permeates the book - everyone is still trying to figure things out.

A backstory as to the why and how of AMPs is clearly laid out in the text, but shrouded in secrecy to the populace at large. It involves a secret multi-national project to create super soldiers. Which is fairly pedestrian, however it has some twists which set it apart and is quite effectively told in general. Without giving any of the secrets away, things go catastrophically wrong and the project is ultimately labeled a failure. The subjects are set loose back in the wild, but the scientists involved quietly keep tabs on them. Fast forward a few generations and it turns out the project was more successful than anyone could have hoped. The variety of powers and possible combinations (and limits therein) are due to the various ways the serums were combined.

A timeline of 2015 is presented in AMP as the primary setting material. In Year One it has the introduction of AMPs and the various reactions to their appearance, and closes out the timeline with a bang at the beginning of 2016. Here, it draws heavy inspiration from X-Men and Aberrant (as mentioned above) with the mixed opinions on their existence and what they represent. It contains a variety of events from around the world which showcase the gradual emergence and acknowledgment of AMPs in the world. They range from mysterious hints of why is potentially yet to come, particularly the "conspiracy" sidebars, to major events which significantly shape public opinion. One of these events even appears as a playable scenario in AMP Adventures, "Attack of the Buzz". Even at their most ostentatious (the Battle of Reno comes to mind), the events presented are a much more restrained take than the inspirations, as befitting the personal and low-key scope of the game. 

The supplement, Year Two, takes the timeline further and it gets quite dark. Without giving too much away, the final events presented in Year One have a significant impact on what transpires in 2016, which is also referred to as the year of fear. With good reason. It also includes more setting information, such as how the world as a whole is dealing with the emergence of AMPs and some more details on the ramifications on various events in the timeline.

AMP has some small nods to comic books, such as the trade size and "Law of Attraction" which causes many AMPs to fight when they first meet (see pretty much any cross-over, ever), but on the whole it has a self-awareness of the tropes and meets them in a way entirely consistent with how you would expect people to react. There is a criminal organization, but the leadership is quite secretive and their long-term goals seem to be about securing a place for AMPs in the world at any cost. As well, there is a school for the "gifted", which many parents use as a place to dump the children which they can no longer understand.

The mechanics serve to reinforce the personal nature of the game by asking: what is important to you? This is done by giving some points to assign to various loyalties, each of which provides a small, but meaningful bonus. There is even the loyalty of "perfection" for those who are really in it for the power. As well, each character can have an affiliation to a particular group. Each group provides a bonus which reflects the nature of the group. For example, the Seekers of Enlightenment (they run the school) get a bonus to resist the Law of Attraction.

For any supers game, powers and how they are handed is probably the biggest deal. Good news: AMP handles them quite well for the power level at which it is operating.

The basic system for AMP uses a D20 and adds two skills to the result based on what you are accomplishing. When using a power, it is one of the two skills. This gives a simple, unified resolution mechanic with a surprising amount of nuance by modifying the typical attribute + skill. To be perfectly honest, over the past 15 years, using a single D20 for resolution has become almost groan-worthy; I fully admit I may very well be alone in this. However, this is one of the few games to which it doesn't bother me at all. It could be the simple addition of gaining Juice on a 1 or 20 makes it interesting, though the frequent additional effects for every 5 over the difficulty certainly doesn't hurt.

Which brings me to the beginning of powers in AMP - they are not things which can generally be used all of the time. They cost Juice, of which you have a small supply, but is really gained when your adrenaline starts pumping. In those dangerous, high stress times is when you start to have a ready supply. Even then, it can be quite draining to just cut loose. There is some resource management to the usage of powers, which again reinforces the lower power and street level natures of the game.

Powers are separated into groups called Strains, which are mostly relevant when it comes time to spend XP. Each character can have up to three powers; a primary, secondary, and tertiary. Your strain is determined by your primary power. The other two can come from any strain, but are cheaper to improve if they come from the same strain as you. Each power has a basic function, but allows for various modifiers to be purchased which start to significantly enhance what your power can do. Each power has a limit to how high it can be improved - primary up to 10, secondary to 7, and tertiary to 4.

This can make for some difficult decisions, especially since there are so many great powers available; it is like visiting a candy store. There is a wide variety of powers available and nearly all of them are interesting and can do awesome things - those omitted by the "nearly" are powers I'm not inclined to like in the first place, such as plant powers, but I know people who would strongly disagree with me on this point. Which is to say the problem is with me, not the power. An example is the Darkness power from the Shaper strain. One of the things you can learn to do is form a blade of darkness. Which was exactly the first thing I wanted to know if I could do when I read the name.

It is worth mentioning Year Two brings some new mechanics to the table. This includes some new affiliations which appeared over the year, Saps as characters (non-AMPs), and new powers. The most notable of the powers is Gadgeteer, which is available to anyone, including Saps. AMP Adventures also introduces a number of new extras for existing powers, in addition to having some solid adventures for a genre which is notoriously difficult.

These details in powers tie into the backstory of how powers came to be. Each AMP is the result of a particular serum cocktail, with primary and potentially secondary and tertiary effects. While not particularly important in the grand scheme of things, it does lend itself to the feeling of a coherent vision for the setting and how the various parts fit together.

In the end, AMP: Year One is easily one of my favorite supers games out there for both the new take on a familiar and comfortable setting, and the elegant simplicity of the mechanics. There are numbers to play with and crunch, but they are simple and straight forward - there is nothing daunting about the mechanics of the powers or how they interact. If you are interested in playing street-level supers, this is, imho, the best game on the market for such an endeavor even if you don't use the metaplot. Though the metaplot is interesting and unobtrusive enough to make it worth using for most games.

Wield

Wield, by Gillian Fraser and John Wick of John Wick Presents, is a game where the heroes of the story are not the people, but the items which use them.

Given the authors, it should come as no surprise the premise of this game turns a classic fantasy trope and turns it upside down. Each player has two characters they control, one is a "hero" who has come into the possession of an intelligent (and presumably ancient) magical item. The other is their actual character, the intelligent magical item. It a setup Wraith players will find familiar, the mortal and item pairings are controlled by different players, and each has their own agenda.

While it may seem like this is something of an arrangement between equals, it is not. The items (called vatcha, in a nod to one of Wick's recent games, Houses of the Blooded) start off holding all of the cards. They only begin to give up complete control of the relationship when their hero needs the item's powers. The more powers the vatcha gives to the hero wielding them, the less control they have.

Creating vatcha is a simple process. Each has:

• Up to three sets of powers. These are referred to as domains and cover from Air and Animal to Creation and Darkness. There isn't any particular reason to choose less than three.
• A goal and the steps to achieve said goal. The examples range from killing a particular god, to finding the true ruler of a kingdom, and destroying another vatcha.
• History with the other vatcha in the group. This process will be familiar to most Fate players, as you pass your sheet around and others write how the two items are connected.
• A suitably epic way to be destroyed. Think the One Ring territory.

The heroes are all created by the GM (referred to as Fate). This helps to remove any real connection between players and a particular hero. While it may not always be true, to many vatcha heroes are simply a disposable means to an end. The system does a good job (perhaps too good at times) of reinforcing this notion and it plays into the control dynamic.

Creating heroes is also an easy task. Which is good, because there will need to be a stack of them. Each has:

• A note card.
• A background.
• A destiny.
• A personality trait.

Whenever you (the player) get a hero, you add a personality trait to it. This is relevant, because then one dies, all of the surviving heroes (and the new guy) get shuffled and redistributed. All of this works towards the setup where there aren't likely to be any strong connections between a player and their hero. There are some concessions in the text for either the GM playing all of the heroes, taking the basic premise to its extreme, or keeping heroes with one player and making them tougher - allowing a for more of a "true" relationship to build.

The system for vatcha powers, like pretty much everything in the game, is simple and straightforward. Each domain has ten powers, measured from ranks 1 to 10 and getting progressively more powerful. They are described with their effect and how they work in combat (note: some powers clearly are not meant to be used in combat). Giving a hero access to a particular power - it simply happens and they can use it. There is a catch: as mentioned above, the more power the vatcha gives to the hero, the more control it gives up and the more the hero learns about the vatcha. This includes eventually how to destroy it.

Whenever the vatcha wants to force the hero to take a certain course of action, they test their control versus the hero's control. Winner gets to do what they want. This creates an interesting system of carefully doling out power to the hero, giving them only what they need to complete your goals while keeping them on as tight of a leash as possible.

There are a couple of problems, which are not insurmountable. The first is with the powers - not all are created equal. In particular, Creation 10 allows you do do absolutely anything, but the hero dies and doesn't come back. As a vatcha, who cares? Even giving the hero just the one power, even rank 10, still gives the vatcha 6 control to the hero's 4, meaning the vatcha has the edge in forcing this to happen.

The second has to do with opposition. While this isn't an PvP game, there is a certain expectation the various vatcha will be working at cross purposes at times, leading to conflict. If all of the players play nice with each other, there needs to be credible opposition against them. Within the context of the game, this probably means other vatcha. The idea of bringing NPC vatcha into the game isn't actually discussed.

In the end, this is a fun game which should give a unique experience for everyone. The setup means it can easily be played in a single session, or over the course of a few games. If you are looking for something with low commitment and offers something different, this is definitely worth giving a second look.

World of Dew

World of Dew, by Ben Woener of Woener's WunderWerks, is a game of noir samurai drama based on Blood and Honor.

I think this is the first time I have ever done a foreword to a review and I make no promises it will be the last. This particular review has been incredibly difficult to write and is still behind schedule. In no small part, this is because it has been difficult to strike the right tone. Here is the heart of the matter: I really like this game. It adapts an existing system in a clever way which explores a sub-genre which is frequently discussed, but nothing to date has done particularly well. Here's the but: But, this game is not for everyone. I don't even know if this game is for me.

The following review will get into why this is in more detail, but there are some fundamental gameplay assumptions many may struggle with. The most basic is it is in the players' hands to generally solve all of their problems and make the world a wonderful place. If the players are invested in solving problems, cutting the Gordian knot, emerging victorious, this probably isn't going to be the game for them. This can be worked around, but it will always be a mismatch of what the system does well and how it is being used. What it does is give players the tools to make everything messy and terrible in ways of their own choosing. It is an expectation of the game, as presented in every example of play, players will consistently make these choices. They will make things harder for themselves; they will use the advantages they have gained to create bleak drama of difficult choices where they may not win.

This is the world of Akira Kurosawa. One where the protagonists aren't necessarily heroes, but they are probably the best the world is going to get. Every story starts out raining and things only get dirtier and more complicated from there. In many ways, this is a instance where the meeting of two genres is a great way to examine each in a new light. The importance of honor and what it means takes a new light when viewed through the lens of the noir genre.

The system, which traces its lineage through Houses of the Blooded and Fate, is a fantastic vehicle for this kind of story. A brief description of the system for those who are unfamiliar: There are six attributes which govern all actions, one of which is a character's weakness and has a 0. Dice pools are built from an attribute and bonuses from other sources, such as appropriate traits (from the character, opponent's, the scene, etc.), reputations, sword schools, etc. Characters can voluntarily make life more difficult by wagering some of their dice, which will not be rolled, in exchange for narrative control at the conclusion of the action. The winner gets to narrate the immediate outcome and keeps all of their wagers. The loser keeps half of their wagers. Those involved use wagers to add additional details to the outcome of the action.

Wagers form the heart of the system and how players are given control of the story. Depending on the kind of action and governing attribute, events and the setting can directed by the players. For example, Wisdom wagers are used to establish facts of the setting. This allows players who enjoy world-building to emphasize the attributes which give the most opportunities for this, while players who are not as interested can instead be more action-oriented.

Only the narrator has the power to change an established fact of the setting. Throughout the course of play, whenever characters spend Honor or Ninjo points (similar to Fate points), they are handed over the narrator. Each point can be spent to change a fact which has been previously established. This mechanic, which is very clever in my opinion, explicitly means the protagonists can never truly be certain of the world around them. No matter how much they think they know, they never actually know everything. As in all things, it is generally better to save these twists for the right moment.

The city in the noir genre is a living, breathing entity as any character and is a part of creating the campaign. In a setup similar to the Dresden Files Role-Playing Game (which is actually called out), everyone will work together to create their specific setting, populating it with themes, locations, threats, organizations and their faces, and people not necessarily associated with an organization. Each player is given some points to spend on these things, which helps to give the endeavor a little more direction and structure. Based on past experiences with DFRPG, this is a good thing. In no small part because it gives a place to start and an indication when you are done.

World of Dew's default setting is during the Tokugawa shogunate at either the beginning, when things were a mess because the traditional social order was being dismantled to establish a power base, or at the end, when the traditional order was being dismantled to adapt to the changing world. Either of these are excellent eras to set a game, each offering something different, and the book goes into reasonable depth discussing why to choose each of them.

There is also a complete, but concise, look at religion within the setting. This is a very complex topic which can be difficult to approach from a Western mindset, particularly how seemingly disparate belief systems all co-exist and fulfill different needs. Along with this is a discussion of supernatural elements and how best to use them within the genre and to remain true to the setting on which this is based. Along with Kuro, this is one of my favorite discussions on the topic in an RPG (they approach this from very different directions).

As appropriate to any game in this setting, there is a discussion about etiquette and how to handle it, a topic with is going to be important in establishing the shared authenticity of the setting. It is a well-written distillation of the basic premise of etiquette within the portrayed society, but the contrast it provides to contemporary culture misses the mark a little (in my opinion) when it could have instead provided an excellent example. Specifically, the discussion is regarding the concept of makoto. The text goes into differences between Eastern and Western heroes, and what are seen as virtues for each of these characters. The former value harmony within society above all else, while the latter value individuality (this is the very condensed version) and how these reflect the values of each society.

This is all true, however where this could have been improved (in my opinion) is by using the disparity between the perceived value (individuality) and the displayed value (harmony) in our society as an example which is fitting to the noir genre. Anyone who has worked in a bureaucracy knows there is a stated culture of standing up and speaking the truth, however the functional culture is one where you must work behind the scenes and compromise to accomplish things. The concept of compromise is important and can have a deeper implication in a genre which explores the struggle between doing what is right versus what you want. What compromises are you willing to make and at what point have you managed to compromise away everything you have held dear? Again, this is just me, but there is less of a functional difference between the East and the West once you look beyond the latter's rhetoric.

Combat within this game is exceptionally brutal, particularly if guns are involved. It is easy to become injured and healing can take a very long time. With a gun, death is the default unless an Honor point is spent (the rarest of resources). To begin, a the conflict is between two people, the aggressor and the target. During this first round, they are the only two characters rolling. Following that, it can open up to anyone and it gets very chaotic. In all, this is works well within the genre where violence is seen as a last resort by the protagonists - it is dangerous. When a gun is drawn, things have just gotten real and people are going to start dying.

There is an example in the combat section which does not sit well with me, particularly because it carries the weight of expectation with it. It starts with one character (Hokusai) shooting another (Garuda) with a gun. He wins the contest and chooses to miss with his privilege. Garuda declares he shoots Hokusai, who in turn spends an Honor point to not die from this. Hokusai then spends a wager to shoot Garuda. This is followed by Garuda spending a wager to turn his pistol on Hokusai's companion and kill him if Hokusai doesn't do anything. Hokusai spends a wager to jump in front of the bullet and save his companion's life.

Why don't I like this example of play? There are a few reasons. First it shows a series of choices which I don't know many players who would actually make: opting to miss, spending a valuable resource potentially unnecessarily, then effectively countermanding the initial decision, and ending up wasting the Honor point. The second reasons, which doesn't sit well at all with me, is it brings in a character who wasn't allowed to participate in the conflict and shows they can be killed by a decision which they have no control over. As a player and a GM, I do not like this. As well, if you get into any fight with a gun, as long as the other character rolls at least a 10, there is a good chance both character will die. There may be a lesson here about living by the sword and dying by the sword, but this seems problematic at the very least. The good news is this can be easily solved by consent from the group as to how to handle these situations. I'm simply not a fan of killing a character by fiat - as much as this game is about giving a player agency, this act removes it entirely.

As I said in the foreword, this is not necessarily a game for everyone and I don't want to leave this review on these down notes, because this game doesn't deserve to be solely judged by the two small things I take issue with when the rest of it is quite good. One of those things is a conceptual nitpick and the second something which falls into some good ground rules to establish for any group playing this game (or any game): boundaries.

This is an excellent entry into the noir genre and highly recommended for anyone who is interested in gaming in the world of Akira Kurosawa. There are a number of clever mechanics and ways to get players invested in a in-depth and different setting. For the right group, this will provide an amazing experience in shared storytelling, particularly for those groups who don't want to go fully into a cooperative storytelling game.

The Whispering Road

The Whispering Road, by Brent P. Newhall, is a game of finding your way home.

This cooperative game is inspired by some of the works of famed director Hayao Miyazaki (not including Princess Mononoke) and is explicitly appropriate for all ages. It is stated early that violence is not appropriate for the stories told within. This doesn't mean no action, just violence isn't the answer. The premise is that each character has been separated from their home by some circumstance and is looking for a way home (Spirited Away is an excellent example). Traveling with their friends in this new world, they encounter trouble, allies, and hopefully learn more about who they are during their journey. If they play their cards right, they may just get home. 

The book itself is very slim, coming in at 26 pages, but lavishly illustrated. In all honesty, I will probably spend more time writing this than it will take you to read the game. Part of this is the number of full page illustrations and the repeated information. This can be helpful for younger players since they will not have to refer to earlier sections as the move through their session.

Getting started has each player define some part of the setting (referred to as parameters). These can include facts about the setting, or requests about the story. This is essentially a formalized way of having everyone work to create a shared world and establish the kind of story they want to tell. Particularly the things which they do not want to see in the story (e.g. "adult" content). 

Making a character is very simple: pick an archetype, a need, and some traits.

The archetypes include the ordinary hero, special one, mentor, and rascal. The primary thing they provide is a goal to achieve within each act. For example, the ordinary hero's goal is to protect another.

Each character's need is what drives them forward coupled with something holding them back. Specifically, another player's character holding them back in some way. One of the examples provided is: I need to explore, but my friend is sickly and I need to take care of her. The first part is the most important, while the second provides some roleplaying cues and connections with the rest of the group.

Finally, your five traits. There is a list of traits to choose from, some of them have special tags (intellectual, physical, and relational) which have a function if they are used in a matching conflict. While most are mundane, some are decidedly supernatural, such as shapeshifter. 

Here is where things start to get murky. The special one and rascal both have mechanical effects from their archetype. The special one gets a special power or item, but loses a trait in exchange. While the rascal gets two additional traits. The problem with the special one is there is no indication you cannot be a rascal who has future sense, power of flight, power of illusion, and shapeshifter, with three more traits. Nor is there any indication of what effect the special one's special thing has - it appears to do nothing. While mechanical parity isn't going to be a major concern, traits are the only resource character's have and they are spent by using them, with only a limited number refreshing as the game proceeds. It is almost foolish for everyone to not be a rascal, particularly since they have a remarkably easy goal as well (prove your good soul to the others). Also, the example characters have some errors with regard to their traits.

Gameplay is divided into acts and each act has a particular focus. The prologue introduces each character and what their home is like; it is just a series of expositions. Act One moves the characters to the new world, which may or may not be fantastic (it is probably going to be fantastic). Act Two and Three introduce the antagonists and allies respectively. Act Four sends the heroes through an ordeal. Finally, Act Five resolves the action.

During each act, there will various conflicts which address the characters' needs. Each conflict must address at least one need and may have a type which corresponds to the trait tags. If you use a trait which matches with the conflict type, you get a bonus to your roll. Players work together to determine which needs are involved in the conflict and how things play out.

A significant part of the game is helping others before you help yourself. For this, each character has good and bad karma. If you help others (rolling dice to help with another character's need), you gain good karma, while if you help yourself (rolling dice to help with your need), you gain bad karma. There isn't any clear instruction on what to do if you roll dice in a conflict which helps with another character's need and your need. When all of the needs have been involved, everyone moves to the next act.

The after the final act has been resolved, each character's endgame is resolved. It's a little like Fiasco, only significantly less Fiasco-like. Subtract your bad karma from your good karma and compare the result to a chart which will indicate if you get home or not and some indication of the circumstances. Positive results send you home, while negative results keep you in the new world. 0 and -0 each appear on the table, so maybe it is a choice on where you go? 

While this is a cooperative game, two players take on special roles referred to as the Navigator and the Driver. It is easy to think of them as first among equals and should be the most experienced and invested in the fun of everyone else. This is because they are responsible for ensuring the game stays on track (Navigator) and keeping the action moving forward (Driver). Specifically, the Navigator has questions the conflicts need to answer, while the Driver has conflicts which need to be established.

Each act provides a list of questions for the Navigator and some conflict ideas for the Driver. The questions are broad, but specific enough to be helpful as cues. For example, the questions in Act Two are: How have the antagonists upset this world's balance? What is the antagonists' specific threat to the new world? Do you learn anything new about the new world? Likewise, the example conflicts presented are similar: Encountering the antagonists, encountering the antagonists' past victims, learning from a mentor, thrust further into the new world. This is particularly helpful for younger players who benefit from cues to keep them in the right direction.

How does it all turn out? Well, there are troubles with the mechanics, though nothing which is insurmountable. For example, the traits can easily be resolved by giving each archetype five and calling it a day, reducing them to a goal, or even removing archetypes entirely and letting players choose their own goals. What would help above all else is to have an example of play within the actual book to reference. This is very valuable to help gamers of all ages set a tone and see the intention behind the various pieces. Naturally, it can be particularly important for younger players to get ideas and see expectations.

In the end, this is a cute game which is best suited for younger players, particularly families which want to explore some of their favorite fantasy worlds.

Epyllion: Drake Edition

Epyllion, by Marissa Kelly of Magpie Games, is a game of draconic friendship and adventure in a mythic setting of looming darkness.

Before I get started, it is important to mention this is the "Drake edition" of this game. It is a preview (ashcan) of the game and explicitly incomplete.

This is a new entry to the games which are "Powered by the Apocalypse" (I prefer to think of it as the Apocalypse Engine in no small part because it is less of a mouthful), including most notably Apocalypse World (which started it all) and Monsterhearts. If you are familiar with these games, Epyllion is going to look familiar. Though it takes things in new directions to tell an entirely different kind of story.

The basic premise of Epyllion has the players portraying a clutch of young dragons. The setting, Dragonia, is highly stratified based on age. Elder dragons sit at the top and deal with politics and running things, while younger dragons are sent out (quests) to complete tasks (adventures) for them. In the background, there was The First War Against the Darkness in which dragons eked out a victory against the corrupting Darkness at significant cost. The good news is the Darkness has been driven away forever and will no longer bother dragons.

Of course, the bad news is this is not actually true and the PCs are naturally going to be at the forefront of discovering this, bring the news to unbelieving elder dragons who refuse to admit they were wrong in the face of ever mounting evidence. Only after a great and selfless sacrifice will the elders realize their folly and allow for the dragons to finally mount an effective defense against the Darkness, but it may already be too late...

At least, this is how it all plays out in my head. As with all things, you mileage may vary.

This strays from the traditional Apocalypse Engine setup in a few ways. First, there is more structure and clearer expectations as to what exactly the PCs are doing and why. The second, and most important, is while Epyllion can get a little dark, it is inherently hopeful. Everything involves the PCs working towards a greater goal and not just causing a big terrible mess.

To go along with this, Epyllion borrows the idea of Strings from Monsterhearts, but changes the tone. This is clear since they are called Friendship Gems. Instead of being held over others, they are used to power the dragons' magic of the moon and stave of the corrupting influence of the Darkness. They aren't a price, but something you want to freely exchange with each other. They can be used to hinder others, but I would consider this to be a rare occurrence rather than the standard use given the tone of the game.

Another item borrowed from Monsterhearts is the Shadowself. This is the dark, self-centered reflection of the dragon's role within the clutch. While it seems to be played straight, there is an interesting nuance which shows a great deal of the expectations placed on the players. Specifically, the self-centered aspect. In a vacuum, the Shadowself may seem not so bad.

For example, the Warrior believes they must defeat the Darkness all alone, no one else is strong enough to help them. For each playbook, the character relies only on themselves and this is stated to be a bad thing. The theme is clear: you need your friends. In fact, the only way to rid yourself of this is through intervention by your friends.

Epyllion is different in how it approaches character growth (or, how it says it does - this is an incomplete game as of now). It is designed to be long term with characters aging and gaining the associated influence and power. It won't be long before you are bossing around younger dragons (there's a Move for that). The mechanics for death also play into this part of the game and in an interesting way.

Since this game goes in dark places, death is a real thing. However, it does not have to be a permanent thing. The work of some dragons (*cough*PCs*cough*) isn't finished when they die and the moons return them to life to finish what they have started. This process forces the dragon to mature and they automatically advance to the next age, which is a good thing and a bad thing. It means you have the benefits of being older, but you will never get to take the advances you missed before your death. It is the price of being forced to grow up too quickly. This is clever to me: death is a thing, but it isn't permanent, however there is a cost - your innocence. 

While the back of the book indicates it is for ages 12+, this feels like a game which can be appropriate for younger audiences with an adult running it for them. A grim My Little Pony.

There is a lot to like about this game and I am looking forward to it. However, there are some pieces which are missing and if you aren't familiar with Apocalypse Engine games it may be confusing due to an assumed familiarity.

The name of the historical conflict, The First War Against the Darkness, bothers me (perhaps irrationally). It implies there was a Second War Against the Darkness, but there was just the one. Which means it should be The War Against the Darkness; World War I was The Great War right up until there was a sequel.

This isn't the only issue, however I do not want this review to end will all of the negative items to what is explicitly an unfinished work. This looks like a lot of fun for a variety of people who want different things from a game. I have every intention of putting together a game with what is available and taking it for a spin. Whenever it becomes available, I plan to be one of the first people in line to pick up to final version.

EDIT: Based on feedback and requests, below is a discussion of the mechanics in the draft. 

The stats used in Epyllion (and the rough Apocalypse World analog) are Charm (Hot), Courage (Cool), Cunning (Sharp), and Heart (Hard). There is no Weird equivalent and the most interesting change is Heart, which may be surprising until the overarching themes become apparent: this is about fighting to protect your friends and home.

Here are the basic and peripheral moves presented in Epyllion: Examine an Object, Study Another Dragon, Battle the Darkness, Stand Up to an Older Dragon, Convince a Dragon of Your Age or Younger to Do What You Want, Act Despite Danger, Call Upon the Magic of the Moons, Help or Hinder, Nest in the Wild, Keep a Look Out, and Lead Others Against the Darkness. 

The rolling dice section indicates 7-9 makes the story more complicated or interesting. While this is generally true, it isn't always true. Also, many of the moves are considerably more passive than in Apocalypse World or Monsterhearts. For example, gaining information in Apocalypse World (through Read a Sitch or Read a Person) immediately makes the situation or interaction "charged". This goes into the lighter tone of the game overall; not everything is about to go terrible at any moment. Just like the only "forceful" options are against the Darkness - taking things from your friends and allies is not something you can do.

There are two different moves based around getting what you want in a social situation. Each is used depending on the age of the target relative to you. This makes the importance of the social order in Dragonia right in your face. The good news about bending the younger generations to your will is three of the four stats (sorry Courage) can be used, depending on your tactics. If you prey on the interests, Charm; duty and obligation is Heart; while trickery is Cunning.

Call Upon the Magic of the Moons is a bug, squishy ball. This move requires Friendship Gems to be spent, the number (up to 3) is your bonus on the roll. The effects you can conjure depend on the moon you are calling upon and the result allows you to choose what goes right. What ever doesn't go right is probably going to go wrong. Access to the moons changes as you age - each age bracket forever cuts off your connection to one of the moons, with some increased power to call on them (?). The last part isn't entirely clear, which is fine for where the game is currently at in development.

Keep a Look Out fills a strange place. It is only used during Nest in the Wild, but isn't a requirement. In fact, there doesn't seem to be a specific downside to not using this move, though it could be interpreted as an invitation to screw with the players. This isn't explicit from a player side and how it is supposed to be used needs more clarification. What it does specifically: If using the move and something approaches your encampment, on a hit it is a friend. 10+, the bring you things. Those things could be information and supplies, or they could be news of danger or a call to action. 7-9, they're pursued by danger or need your help. On a miss, the DM (Dragon Master) gets to do their thing, as per usual. Based on those results, there isn't necessarily a strong reason to use this move - it basically invites trouble without providing any specific help. 

Lead Others Against the Darkness is a clever way to resolve a larger conflict without getting too bogged down in the details. It allows the players to define the terms of their "victory" and decide the associated costs. There is also a strong incentive for everyone to work together; bonuses to this roll are scarce and it is one of them.

A change from how Apocalypse Engine games traditionally work is in earning experience. Generally, two stats will be highlighted and when they are used, the character marks XP. In Epyllion, everyone earns XP when the roll a 6. I'm interpreting this as a  bittersweet reward for almost succeeding, meaning your final result is a 6, rather than the numbers on the dice totalling 6 (in which you could succeed and earn XP).

The playbooks presented in the Drake edition are the Academic, the Crafter, the Daredevil, the Nature Adept, the Seer, and the Warrior. Each has two stats which start with a +1 and one with a -1, players get to add +1 to one of the stats. This setup is most similar to Monsterhearts, though with an additional +1 hiding in there. Each of the four stat is represented at least once as the low stat, though the good stats only exist in two combinations: Charm and Cunning, or Courage and Heart. To be honest, this is a little disappointing because it cuts down on the variety and is exactly what would be expected and creates a dichotomy of physical versus non-physical characters.

Beyond this, each of the playbooks has one stat which is featured in every playbook specific move which has a roll. The Academic and Crafter only use Cunning, the Daredevil, Nature Adept, and Warrior only use Courage, and the Seer only uses Charm. Interestingly, the Warrior is the only playbook which doesn't get a bonus to the listed stat (they get Heart), though they only have the one move with an associated roll.

Not all of the moves are quite created equal. For example, the Warrior starts with True Warrior which allows them to return a Friendship Gem at the beginning of each session to improve their Battle the Darkness move. This is problematic because it requires you to sacrifice a resource on the hopes you may use a move, which is also the least likely move to be used in a session.

Each of the playbooks also has two Houses listed. I haven't brought these up previously, but there are six Houses, each with their own themes. After each House is a task, e.g.: Defend someone weaker than you (the Warrior, Tessith, the House of Diamond). Earlier in the book it is indicated performing this task helps fight off the hold of the Darkness over you. While it isn't explicit, this probably means it eliminates a Condition on your Shadow Track. This is something which can stand to be more explicit.

There is a brief discussion regarding showing cruelty and evil which is not the result of corruption. Typically this is a good tactic - there are entirely mundane forms of darkness in the world. However, the way in which corruption manifests itself, it seems like it would be impossible to distinguish between such casual cruelty and true corruption. This is an idea which needs more textual support to distinguish it from corruption and expand on the concepts and themes surrounding corruption.

To reiterate, this is just the draft which was put out there and I do not want to end on a note of criticism for an unfinished game. There are a number of innovative ideas and different takes on what feels like a classic system at this point. I am very optimistic of what the final product will look like and plan on lending my support.

Becoming: A Game of Heroism and Sacrifice

Becoming, by Brian Engard of Dangerous Games, is a unique storytelling game about a hero and their struggles against adversity and what they are willing to sacrifice while attempting to accomplish their goal.

The basic setup of this game is for exactly four players, no GM. One of them will portray the Hero that is on a Quest. The other three players are the Fates, and they are out to make the Hero's life interesting. By which I mean terrible.

This is already a setup that appeals to me quite a bit and offers a very rare asymmetrical semi-cooperative storytelling experience. Most GMless games give each participant the same narrative powers and control - it makes the experience freewheeling and collaborative. That doesn't work for all groups that need something beyond the structure provided those games. What they are missing are some very specific objectives and roles to fulfill (Our Last Best Hope happens to offer these as well - highly recommended).

Each of the Fates is a distinctive aspect of the scenario and portrays a particular flavor of adversity for the Hero to encounter. Also, each of the Fates has a unique way that they can interact with the mechanics of the scenario which work to reinforce the nature of that Fate. The Hero has only what they bring with them, which the Fates will do their very best to turn against them, and the ability to choose.

As noted above, this game isn't fully cooperative: each participant is working to earn points. At the end of the game, once it has been established in the final scene if the Hero succeeds in their quest, the player with the most points will narrate the epilogue to the story. The Hero earns points by facing adversity and emerging triumphant. The Fates earn points by taking away that which matters most to the Hero. For some groups, this could be brilliant, while for others, this could just be Diplomacy in a new format.

The basic format of a game involves selecting a scenario and establishing the Virtues, Strengths and Allies of the Hero. These are their Assets and all that they are bringing with them. The other three players will each pick one of the Fates for that scenario which will detail their special ability and how they go about ruining everything.

The scenario itself is a series nine scenes, each with a setup and elements to establish the scene, and a threat to be dealt with by the Hero. One Fate will be "running" the scene and portraying the threat. The other two Fates will be playing a character of their choice in the scene acting as their avatar and tempting the Hero.

While the Hero may be able to triumph over the early scenes without sacrifice, it will not take long before the odds begin to stack against them and they must weigh the cost of failure against the bargains offered by the Tempters. The currency Tempters have to negotiate with are their dice. They can be traded to the Hero for their Assets. If the Hero rejects a Tempter's deal, their dice go to the threat instead.

The mechanics are simple, but become gut-wrenching before long. Do you sacrifice your friendship to save the kingdom? Are you willing to compromise your faith to keep going?

A number of different basic scenarios are presented with increasing complexity, from a quest to save the kingdom from a merciless despot, to the last hope of humanity to colonize a new world, or survivors in an emerging zombie apocalypse. These provide some cues on how to develop your own scenarios, particularly with multiple different examples of Fate special abilities and how they reinforce the themes of the scenario.

It is the following chapters which are particularly notable. After a discussion of how to use what has been shown to build your own quests, the text starts to take the structure apart and show significantly different ways that it can be reassembled. Examples of how this can be done include a three person scenario of a musician resisting against Selling Out and Settling Down, or a four person scenario with two Heroes that follows a relationship and how it deals with Dependency and Resentment.

There are not many games out there that offer that level of transparency in the mechanics and support in making the game your own. At the end, an offer can be found for the author to host any quests that you develop.

The competitive nature may not be for everyone, but it serves to drive forward the narrative and force the hard decisions. It is less about winning the game and more about earning the epilogue that you want. This part game, part toolkit and offers a distinctly fresh way of looking at a GMless gaming experience.

Don't Rest Your Head

Don't Rest Your Head, by Fred Hicks of Evil Hat Productions, is a game of people that have fallen between the cracks into a world of insomnia and madness.

You are playing someone that has been awake so long that they have gone insane, or woken up to finally see the hidden truths in the world. The Awake can interact with the lost and forgotten parts of our world, using them to gain access to the Mad City - a dark place home to Nightmares and occasionally other Awake trying to follow their path.

Creating a character in Don't Rest Your Head involves little in the way of mechanics and is mostly about defining who you are, who you seem to be, what is driving you and where are you headed. The trajectory of a character is by far the most important aspect - it is your velocity and your direction. It is why you are in the Mad City, which isn't really somewhat that you want to be (if Dark City and Wonderland had a horrifying child, it would be the Mad City). 

The Awake draw power from their exhaustion and madness, using them to fuel their talents. Every character has an exhaustion talent, which is mundane in function, but allows you to go far beyond human norms, and a madness talent, which is just straight up magic. Exhaustion talents can be anything from incomparable acrobatics or driving skills, to the most interesting man ever. While madness talents are in the vein of teleportation being so well prepared that you can retroactively say that you have something you need. Using either of these requires interacting with the dice mechanics, which is the meat of the system.

Every time you pick up the dice, you are making a meaningful decision. The outcome of that roll is going to have consequences; they can be good, but let's face it, even if you succeed they are probably going to be not so good. Mad City is a brutal place. Helping you succeed against the GM's pool of Pain dice are your strange new bedfellows: Exhaustion and Madness. These can be drawn upon to supplement your natural discipline, but not without cost.

Exhaustion increases are cumulative, each die adding to your pool. As your exhaustion grows stronger, so do you, but so does the danger that you will fall asleep. When that happens, you are at the mercy of any Nightmares that happen upon you. Madness gives short bursts of power, lasting only for the test, including activating your super power. Drawing on madness always leaves you with the chance that you can snap - forcing you into fight or flight. Snap too many times, and you become another Nightmare in Mad City.

Within the Mad City are strange and impossible places, along with the equally strange and impossible Nightmares that call them home. You should be aware, they are all puns; if the thought of the terrifying embodiment of bureaucracy being named the Tacks Man, with his minions the Pin Heads and Needle Nose bloodhounds, makes you groan, it may be a good idea to stay away. Regardless, the setting and its inhabitants are evocative and inspirational for a descent into madness in a familiar, but alien world.

There is a lot in Don't Rest Your Head that shows its relation to Fate games. The Despair and Hope coins that move between the GM and players are a prime example and similar function to Fate points. If pain dominates in any roll, the GM gets a Despair coin to make the player's life that much more difficult. When it is spent, however, it turns into a Hope coin which allows the player something of a reprieve. A similar relationship exists between Scars and Aspects, the former being the closest that you will get to advancement.

The strong direction of the game and the atmosphere it presents are fantastic for a limited story arc, though may have issues when it comes to longer play. It is also best suited for a one-on-one game (often referred to as a "duet") and struggles with more players present in the game. When more than one character is in a scene, only one is the actor and all others are supporting them. It is, by design, a lonely game. To be fair, a significant degree of ambiance comes from the unknown - can you trust anyone? With other players, there is an implied level of trust and willingness to work together, which can run counter to the stories that Don't Rest Your Head is trying to tell.

If you are looking for something with an engaging and meaningful mechanic, particularly for very small groups, and a dark and unique setting, this is going to be a strong choice. Even if that doesn't sound like a recipe for success, the design choices are different enough to warrant further investigation.

Blade Raiders

Blade Raiders, by Grant Gould, is an 80's inspired fantasy game that uses a simple resolution mechanic (referred to as the CAST System) and has a unique way of handling magic.

Everything in Blade Raiders is streamlined. From the system to character creation, there isn't a lot to get bogged down in (for better or worse). Character creation is extremely straight forward and primarily consists of only three choices: your talents (ranked 3, 2 and 1; 3 being the highest). Beyond height, weight, hit points and money, that is all you have. Those talents are, however, incredibly important and will significantly define what kind of character you are playing.

They come in two equally straight forward categories: non-magic and magic. The non-magic talents give you a bonus to something mundane based on which number you assign to it. The magic talents are similar, the rank being your bonus to using it, but higher ranks will potentially give you access to more powers, or at the very least make them significantly more useful.

Reading through them, the non-magic talents are pretty staid, everything you would expect (move faster, take more damage, do more damage, bonus to hit, bonus to exploring, etc.), while the magic talents are rather unique. They are a collection of daily use powers based on a theme, such as Enchanter (who improves items), Protector (allows you to create Ghost Armor), or Firecaller (it does pretty much what you think it does).

The element that balances these two is in the setting: runestones. These magical objects can be found throughout the setting and cannot be moved or tampered with. Trying either of these tends to cause the troublemaker to come down with a severe case of the not livings. Magic talents will only work in the vicinity of a runestone and the provided map is very clear that there are plenty of areas where magic will not be able to help you. In fact, some people specifically settle those areas for pretty obvious reasons.

While there is no limit to the number of magic talents that you can have, any character that relies too heavily on magic is going to be quickly out of their depth whenever they aren't near a runestone. On the other hand, whenever there is an abundance of runestones around, their magic is more effective than normal. This particular give and take makes talent selections particularly important and gives more importance than usual to characters who eschew magic in a fantasy setting.

As mentioned, the system is simple: roll a d10 and apply modifiers; if you have a 10 or more after all modifiers, you succeed. There aren't any resisted rolls here, nothing fancy - what you see is what you get. The most common modifier you are going to apply will be a skill (or a magic talent, if that is what you are using).

If you are paying close attention, you may note that skills weren't brought up in character creation. That is because, unless you have the Achiever talent, you will not be starting with any. Skills are for characters that earn them and this is very much a zero to not-quite-zero game. Rated from 0 to 3, you can only earn a skill once you have successfully used it. At which point you get a rating of 0 and can improve it with Character Advancement Points (CAPs).

Here is where I start to take issue with the game: to even begin learning a skill, you have to get a 10 on a d10. Certainly, there are bonuses that can be applied outside of a skill, but something extremely easy nets you a +4, while easy just gets you +2. Those are not great odds, unless you enjoy failure (no judgments here). Once you accomplish the daunting feat of advancing a skill to 3, you are still looking at a total of +7 to an extremely easy task. Unless you have a talent associated with that task, that is as good as it gets. For magic, you are not likely to see something better than a +4 bonus total (and that is assuming you put that magic talent at your highest rank) and those powers are once a day.

For some, this may be a feature. Others, not so much. To help defray that, you can spend your CAPs to gain a bonus to any roll after the roll. I have never been a fan of systems that mix your long-term advancement with short-term gain. It tends not to end well. This, however, falls into a category of to each their own.

The one unambiguous thing about this game is the art. It is all done by the author and is uniformly good. Unsurprisingly, it conveys a singular vision for how the setting looks and the common aesthetics that can be found there. For example, the only beasts of burden are a variety of giant lizards known as riptur. Their skin is also commonly used for armor and the section on armor is amazing for anyone that likes to assign each individual piece to their character and get a unique look out of it.

Blade Raider's setting is sparse as presented. The default is part of a continent with a brief history and a list of locations and some of the factions operating in the area. Unfortunately, there are not any plot hooks that capture the imagination.

For some, the unique magic and simple, but challenging system will be of great interest. While for others, the difficulty associated with success and expectation that you will be selling your future for now is going to be a problem.

Hollowpoint

Hollowpoint, by B. Murray and C.W. Marshall of VSCA Publishing, is a kinetic action game of (as the tagline puts it) bad people killing bad people for bad reasons.

The premise of this game is that you are an agent who has a problem that needs solving. The kind of problem that will require your particular brand of skills to solve (hint: these are the kind of skills that would likely be considered a war crime if they ever came to light - you aren't just a bad person, you are probably a terrible person). In fact, things are so terrible that there has to be an entire team of agents to resolve whatever problem has come up. Which means that who or whatever is on the other side of this probably isn't going to make it out alive. If they're lucky.

While everyone is an agent and works for the agency, what those actually are and what they mean are is flexible as you need them to be. From the typical shadowy government sponsored cleaners, to shepherds keeping warring criminal families in line. Or even stranger than that (angels man, angels murdering demons in Las Vegas), it all works within the framework of the game. All that there needs to be is your team (agents), who they work for (the agency) and what they are doing (the mission).

Setup is a breeze for everyone involved. The GM (referred to as a "ref") is responsible for providing the background, which is pretty light and centered around the Mission. Initially they just need to supply players with some background on their agency and what it is about (the "Charge" - e.g. GI Joe, or OSI), their enemy (e.g. Cobra, or Sphinx), and the setting (the "Era"). From there, players will create their agents. The GM has some more things going on and we will get back to that shortly.

There is a list of six default skills for players to take (Con, Cool, Dig, Kill, Take and Terror) along with examples on how that list can be tailored to the particular setting and/or mission, including a list of optional skills and how they can be used to compliment and differentiate from the default skills (Boss, Hurt, Seduce and Watch). Since you get to select five skills, one at each rank from 5 to 1 (5 being high), keeping the list to six skills is almost certainly for the best so that nothing truly falls through the cracks.

Following that, players get some traits that can be burned to for a bonus during play. They're pretty similar to one-shot Aspects from Fate, though there are some suggested methods for generating them to keep things from getting bogged down in finding that perfect Aspect. If you've played Fate, you've been there. The structure can certainly help players that may have issues the process for any number of reasons and give some common ground for everyone to riff off of each other.

There is a final piece for each character: their complication. It is what makes this mission personal. They need to go through the GM for approval generally, but it is the player's chance to put their mark on the mission and contribute to how it is all going to go horribly wrong. Which certainly isn't the objective of the agents, but should certainly be the objective of the players.

The GM is also responsible for creating NPCs for the mission, both those that are disposable and those that represent some significant opposition (referred to as "Principles"). While creating some awesome scenes that they want their players to experience is also up there, the exact course that events take will likely be fluid with the resources that the players have at their disposal. Those resources could take the form of backdoor access to the NSA tap on the internet backbone, to a keen knowledge of local snitches and a willingness to get their hands dirty. When a Principle shows up in a scene, things are about to get real for the agents and there is a good chance not all of them are going to make it out of that one intact.

Action is handled through pools of six-sided dice. After rolling your pool, matching dice are put into groups, similar to ORE. While more dice is generally better, there comes a point where too many dice can get you into trouble and sets you up for things going terribly, awfully wrong. It's a very clever mechanic and part of how the presence of a Principle can really wreck the agents' day, by splitting up the GM's pool into two pools which allows them to form more sets from each of those pools.

Everything goes down quickly and brutally for everyone involved. Remember, this is something so rough that an entire team of agents is required and there is no expectation for all of them to make it out of this one. To help with this, the agents can ask each other for help. Helping out takes your agent out of the action to support the other, which means that you are no longer at risk, but also that you aren't directly contributing. Pros and cons. If an agent refuses to help, the asking agent can take some dice from the group Teamwork pool to make up for it. Again, pros and cons. It's a clever little mechanic that has some strategy to it and reinforces players "Moving On", as when a new character is brought in they will add dice back into the Teamwork pool.

If things go sideways for an agent, they can decide that it is time to move on. Whether that means they suffocate from a pool cue to the lung, or are quietly informed that the opposition knows exactly where their secret family lives. Regardless the cause, that character is gone and the player makes a new one, this time coming back as an operative.

The introduction of an operative is the signal that things have gotten screwed up and the agency is sending in someone to fix things and get this mission back on track. They're like a corporate project manager with even less morals. Coming back with an operative gives the player a chance to affect the narrative and suggest a new direction for the mission. Perhaps the old goals simply cannot be achieved - maybe the hostage is dead, or the investigation doesn't matter because the chateau fell off of a cliff. Nonetheless, someone still has to answer for all of this. After the operative comes the handler. Pray that it doesn't come to a handler showing up.

Hollowpoint is a face-paced action game that is perfect for a one-off, or a series where the actions of the agency are more important that the individual agents that work for it. While you are never forced to move on, it's probably going to happen - don't get too attached. With minimal preparation required and a fast pacing that is easy to maintain (and if you keep it brisk enough, players won't have time to think about the plot holes they caused). The book is loaded with examples and advice on how to keep things going, including a mission actual play and an overview. If you are in the market for some rules light violence and mayhem, look no further. Or if you have ever wanted to play Archer.