Good Monday, Gamer!
“It is never too late to be wise.”
— Robinson Crusoe, Ranger-Cleric
I spent most of the week in Portsmouth, VA, for a family moot—my mom and pop, two sisters, my baby brother, and his spouse, plus a handful of kids all vacationing in a comfortable Airbnb.
We didn’t end up playing the big game of Zombie World like I’d hoped, but there were plenty of small group games around the table. It reminded me of those small, house-style cons—like Conlorado or the classic Burning Wheel Cons—where a (tiny by GenCon standards) crew shares space and meals around a gaming schedule.
I know there must be other gatherings like this—maybe they’re private, like ColoradoCon, or so small they fill up before I ever hear about them (like BW Con often did). Early Big Bad Con was in this scene, too.
Anyway, I’m feeling nostalgic for those tiny con experiences—intimate, focused, and full of shared moments. If you know of any, or if you’re organizing something like it, let me know! I’m all ears.
📚 ICYMI
🦄 Of Unicorns and better stories from Sarah Doom.
🎙️ Roll for Origin ep 1 is live — me and Lowell kick off the Supers TTRPG deep dive with Superhero 2044
⛏️ Hallas and the Dwarves of Moria - A Solo Moria AP.
Why I Still Believe in Small Tables + Indie Games
I’ve been running and playing small table sessions a long time—and I still believe they’re where the best magic happens.
There’s something mighty potent in the quiet focus of 3–4 people leaning into a game together. Small tables make space for trust, for tension, for risk. You get character arcs that matter. Scenes that breathe. Decisions that can actually change things.
Indie games were my gateway into that magic. Not because they’re shiny or niche or cooler than trad games (though sometimes they are), but because they offer a wider spectrum of play experiences than most big-name systems can.
Want to run a surreal faerie circus where relationships evolve like the seasons? Under Hollow Hills.
Want to fly busted warplanes over fantasy WWI frontlines, haunted by your trauma? Flying Circus.
Want dying-Earth sword & sorcery where the only magic left is dangerous, forgotten, and stolen? Black Sword Hack.
Want class war, and tactical rebellion in a vertical city run by cruel high elves? Spire.
Each of those games is wildly different. But each one gives you a lens—a point of view. They’re not afraid to be specific. That specificity creates emotional hooks, moral tension, and player investment in a way generic systems often can’t.
Big tables and cinematic campaigns have their place. And I respect the work that goes into APs and productions. But for me? The real heart of the hobby still lives around small, quirky tables, early morning Zoom meets, and convention hotel lobbies—where someone says “you wanna try this weird game I found?” and off you go.
I like:
Rules that support the game's promise
Characters who aren’t built for balance, but for flavor.
Games that ask you to bring something human to the table.
And I’ll keep showing up for that, week after week.
Three-Card Stories: The Saboteur
This week’s Tarot pull comes from my Adventurer Tarot Deck (WIP, patent pending). Building on last week’s 3-card draw.
🎴 Reading the Saboteur
Theme: The Hidden Hand Behind the Collapse
Card 1: 7 of Ties – Hidden Agenda (Partial Success)
A social bond was exploited. The saboteur used personal influence or emotional leverage to hide in plain sight. Their betrayal will fracture alliances if revealed.
Card 2: The Magician (Full Success)
This wasn’t a brute-force attack. It was elegant. A timed spell, a rewritten protocol, or a slight twist in a power junction. This was a signature act—and someone might recognize the method.
Card 3: 5 of Burden – Lair (Failure)
You may find them before they regroup—but the terrain is just as dangerous as the person. Expect desperation, traps, or bargaining.
🧭 Adventure Hook
The saboteur was one of your own. Now they're cornered in the wreckage, wounded and dangerous. Do you want answers, revenge—or are you here to stop the next disaster?
Catch ya next week!
Thanks for reading, thanks for playing, and thanks for backing the strange stuff.
The hobby is big, messy, diverse—and more beautiful for it. And small tables with weird indie games?
That’s still my favorite corner.
This really makes me want to organize some smaller events. Maybe 2026.
Great read, and 100% in on little tables and small gatherings. 3 players is excellent, 4 is very good - 5+ is just too much. And weirdly, 2 seems like more work than a one-on-one game.
Now I'm thinking about the friend-of-the-family lake house here in Oly I could rent in the off season... RainCon 1 in 2025? Maybe?