City '26, Week 7: Thoughts on the Project

Now over seven weeks into City '26, and I've managed to overcome my first real scheduling challenge-- last week I went to a concert in a different city, ~3 hours away, then came back the same night/morning to step in the door at 6 AM. It was a great show! Amazing bands, plus a venue I've never been to that felt like it accurately captured the "Philly grunge" I've been so desperately missing since moving overseas. But as you can imagine, that meant no City 26 entries for the day of the concert OR the day right afterward... aaaaand I also didn't end up writing anything the day before the concert either. Just bad scheduling and laziness, in that case. It meant I lost basically half my week without anything written! But I took a little extra time, spread the missed entries out over the rest of the week, and got caught back up!

That doesn't sound so hard, I know. They're short entries, and doing more than one a day for just a little while isn't exactly backbreaking labor. But for a second there, I really did contemplate quitting. I had to actually sit down and ask myself "what am I doing this for?" It's a question I've asked myself before, one I'm definitely going to end up asking again, and one that feels really important for me to regularly come back to.

Me, questioning whether I even enjoy writing (an activity I've performed regularly for seven years) after not writing anything for five fuckin' minutes.

If you've ever set out to complete a long-term project of any kind-- whether it's writing, an art piece, some sort of other physical craft, whatever-- you've probably had that moment where you got a little tired, maybe a little bored of it, and put it down, just for a short break. And then, every time you think about picking it back up again, it feels almost impossible. Or maybe not! Perhaps that feeling isn't as universal as I'd like to believe. But I think I've seen it happen often enough, out there in the wilds of internet forums, or in the grand plans weaved by friends. And for me, this experience is pretty regular. I spin grandiose dreams of writing projects (like a blog maybe?) and commit to doing them, regularly and on schedule, then fall off as time goes on.

Thankfully, this has happened to me so many times, I know exactly what the reason is. In my case, it's a combination of burnout and executive dysfunction. I know for a fact that part of my brain requires constantly changing conditions, a regular back-and-forth, to stop itself from chewing holes in the carpet of my mind like a dog trapped inside a back bedroom. Unfortunately, regularly scheduled activities are sort of anathema to this. Especially if they require a lot of thought from me, but are the types of things that shouldn't be very thought-based, like social media presence and posting my writing where people can see it. So every once in awhile, I have to let the rabid dog bit of my brain out to run wild in the fields of entertainment, and accept that whatever I've managed to get done in the meantime is good enough. But the second, hidden downside to this is that when I come back to the activity I left, picking it back up feels much more difficult. 

This is mainly because, as you might imagine, my brain is not well-rewarded by long-term goals. Short-term is fine, sure-- I enjoy the brief rush of getting something complete enough that I could use it for myself, or share it with other people. But long-term goals (like finishing a writing project deliberately designed to take a year to complete) feel a lot less rewarding. Because they feel intangible. Because they haven't given me any sort of joy (read: dopamine) for awhile. Because I've stopped focusing on them for 24 hours, causing the discrete chunks of the task to shift away from "takes 30 mins to complete" and into "this will take hours to do".  But hold on! I've discovered a secret; a way to trick my brain into converting a long-term goal into a short-term, brain-massaging reward, and deal with picking it back up EVEN IF it feels like writing a d10 table will take 3 hours. I ask myself "what am I doing this for?", and then I let myself daydream. 

I stop focusing on what it's going to take. I don't think about the effort I'll have to put in to placing words on a screen, making patreon updates, bluesky posts, and self-advertising. Instead, I let myself be lost in the unlikely visions of success without effort. And when I come back to the ground, I can feel myself on the edge of that success. And suddenly, the long-term reward feels like it's just a few short-term actions away.

Is this healthy? I have no idea. Is it useful for other people? Also not sure! Plus in the end, part of what helps me to sit down and actually get anything down is also having a regular, daily schedule. Not a "calendar-it-in and chunk out 30 minute blocks" type of schedule, but just a basic daily routine of wake up, shower, eat and watch a little TV, write something, do errands, write some more. But when that daily routine is interrupted by something, whether it's 24 hours of travel and live music, more errands than normal, or a day off to spend time with a friend, picking back up what I put down is hard. Especially if I was already starting to fall into the part of the creativity cycle where I was getting a little bit bored of whatever I was working on. Sometimes, stepping away to work on something similar, but not identical, also helps-- like writing something other than what I should be working on. Maybe something like writing a blog post about procrastination, instead of a blog post about game design or a daily writing challenge? But a little daydreaming, about what the project will look like when it ends and what it'll feel like to have it done, goes a long way too. And for me, the way to ignite that daydreaming is definitely to sit down, and ask myself "what am I doing this for?" Not only is that probably an important way to reassess whether I'm actually doing something I want to do (not every project is meant to be finished; sometimes you stop enjoying something entirely and that's okay too) but it's also a great way to remind yourself of what the larger, motivating reward behind a project originally was. Even if a project itself is fun, I think its useful if you don't let yourself lose sight of what inspired you to pick it up in the first place.

City '26, Weeks 5 + 6: The Rovers (Harborside Faction)

Well, another two weeks have come and gone, but I've somehow managed to maintain my efforts on City 26! Not bad, if I do say so myself. I was worried the beginning of February is where I would start to falter, but I'm still feeling very committed. Of course, I managed to keep Dungeon 23 going all the way up until April, so I'm not quite at the point of beating my record yet.

Once again, I'm trying to limit some of the hassle of the challenge for myself by only making updates here when I actually finish something. While I like writing, I actually struggle a lot with posting on social media (I never really took very well to the habit), and even though I really wanna share my work it's got to battle with my urge to remain unobserved personally. That aside, it means today I'm sharing the first fully complete faction of this setting/district, the Rovers!

 

Although they aren't pirates, I promise this image is relevant to the Rovers all the same. 

What Are The Rovers?

As a classic harbor/port district, Harborside doesn't feel complete without its share of crime. And of course, what's the point of having crime in a pseudo-fantasy setting if you don't have a few crime families/thieves guilds? Actually, Harborside (and Port Callus as a whole) have several, but the Rovers are my attempt at cutting into the classic "thieves guild" trope. I say cutting because, while I would like to have an approximation of a thieves' guild, I'm looking to break away from some of the repetitive standards of the trope and build something a little more realistic for my setting. Doing that means taking what I like (underground headquarters, honor among thieves) and leaving some stuff behind (specific "roles", firm hierarchy).

Before I get into the Rovers themselves, it's worth noting how I build factions. My method pulls from several places, but primarily the outline found in (again) Idle Cartulary's Preparing for City 26 blog post. The outline includes some common faction stuff I like to use (specific NPCs, Assets, Quirks) and some stuff I don't; the things I do use, I tend to write a little differently. For example, when trying to build quick NPCs (like for, say, a year-long writing challenge) I actually use The Retired Adventurer's system of Motive, Means, and Opportunity. I like it because it gives me a handle on how to run them, but for a location-based design challenge like this one, it also lets me weave them deeper into the fabric of the setting. Although I keep the wording of their motive general, I usually build it around how the setting works and what sort of factors in the setting that I know are putting pressure on that NPC.

Who They Are

I'll start with the factions major NPCs-- this isn't all of them, of course. There's plenty of members, but the point is to keep the Rovers as an informal group; again, trying to avoid the trope of a thieves' guild whose stringent ranks and organization leave it feeling like a military.

Ardin (M, Leader)

• Motive: "Traders take people's money, guilds take the trader's money, rich folk own the guilds, and sneaks like us take money from the rich. It's all a big circle of life."
• Means:
• Charismatic, naturally born leader, skilled at getting people to see his side of the story.
• Cultivates unyielding loyalty from most Rovers, many of whom would happily give themselves up to save him.
• Good at connecting events and actions that seem unconnected, letting him see the city's political flow even though he isn't directly involved.
• Opportunity: If Ardin can find a way to make the Rovers secure, to ensure the group lives on if something happens to him, then he's willing to risk everything he has to make it happen-- but only as long as it doesn't risk the gang.

 Diniz (NB, Smuggler)

• Motive: "Ardin doesn't take our line of work seriously enough, but if we tried harder, we could compete with some of the bigger gangs."
• Means:
• Well-known at the docks, although not well-liked, but many sailors and merchants are still willing to do business with them.
• Knows how to get in and out of the city without drawing attention. They also know how to get into parts of some of the city's landmarks that aren't accessible to the general public, either by bribery or by stealth.
• If it came down to it, some Rovers would support Diniz's bid for leadership, even though they're loyal to Ardin. This is because Diniz is better at bringing in money. But if the gang were to become financially secure, they would jump ship.
• Opportunity: If Diniz sees a chance to undermine Ardin's competency in front of others, they're sure to take it, but only as long as they can still feign ignorance later or if Ardin's plans works out.

Lacinda (F, Fence)

• Motive: "I'm tired of living small with the Rovers; I want to build up enough stock to open a real market stall, and do something with my life."
• Means:
• Has an eye for value, able to accurately estimate the price of most objects after a short period of study. She's even read a lot of history books, all to get better at pricing older, more unusual valuables.
• Has access to an existing network of collectors and merchants who purchase her questionably obtained stock at bargain prices, without asking questions. She hopes to turn them into real merchant contacts when she has her own stall.
• Has hidden away a sizable stash of money, nearly enough to purchase a cart, permit, and additional stock. But in a truly desperate emergency, something that threatens her safety or security, she'll use it.
• Opportunity: If someone brings Lacinda a particularly valuable item-- something unusual she or the other Rovers would never normally get their hands on-- then she can't resist the temptation to lie about its value, underplaying it in order to buy it cheap then sell it later and pocket even more for herself.

What They Have

After the major NPCs comes the major assets that the faction has access to. In the case of the Rovers, it's not a lot-- they're an informal group, closer to a street gang. But they're still more involved in the activities of a thieves' guild than any of the proper criminal families found in Port Callus. This means their resources are generally internal (fundamentally a part of the group) and their external resources (usually social contacts or physical objects) are pretty limited/niche in use.

1. Natural Talent: Joining the Rovers requires a natural talent for thievery, proven by the test for membership, which requires getting a signet ring from a member of a merchant guild. It doesn't matter which guild or how the ring was obtained-- they could break in to their house, slip it from their finger, mug them in an alley, or whatever works best. As long as they get the ring, don't get caught, and don't bring any heat back on the Rovers themselves. This means that all of the members are skilled thieves, in one way or another (and acts as a less formal way of establishing a member's "role" a la traditional thieves' guilds).
2. Hidden Headquarters: The Rovers host meetings, and several of them live, in an informal "headquarters" in a disused section of Harborside's sewer system. Located below the river's waterline, the massive storm drain was abandoned when the city undertook extensive renovations 60 years ago (right after the population started to explode again). It's very well hidden, behind a false wall that was originally built to brick up the storm drain entirely. Getting to the wall itself is tricky, requiring someone to pass over a makeshift, wooden bridge across a deep sewer canal. The bridge is sturdier than it looks though, and can actually be lifted by a hidden pulley system.
3. Secret Funds: The cistern at the center of the headquarters also holds a stash of coins, bank notes, and jewelry, and other stolen goods. It's kept in a small tunnel beneath a shallow pool of water, inside a watertight, leather bag. Every time more members work together on a job, they're supposed to bring back a little bit of the take as a fee for the group. Ardin has collected all of it, over time, and placed it in this stash. No one knows about it but him, although some members have suspicions about a hidden fund somewhere. Ardin uses it to fund bail for Rovers who get arrested, pay off informants and a few crooked guards, and buy supplies for the headquarters. But no matter what, he always collects more than he spends, planning to some day use it to make the Rovers into a proper organization.

How They Act

Every group needs at least one quirk to set them apart. Something that turns them from a faceless, disparate collection of people into a real organization of people bound together. 

In the case of the Rovers, every single member has a stick-and-poke tattoo of a jolly roger (the classic skull-and-crossbones pirate symbol) somewhere on their body. Most of them choose a shoulder, ankle, or the side of their abdomen, where it isn't easily noticed but can quickly and unobtrusively be shown off to other members. The specific design for each one varies as well, because the tattoo has to be given by the member that recruited you. This means long-term Rovers like Ardin and Diniz, people who've recruited several other members, tend to have developed specific styles, letting other Rovers know who recruited them when they see the tattoo.

What They Want

A pretty simple question, and an obvious one. What does the faction want to do? What are their aims, their long-term goals? The Rovers have two of them:

1. Obtain enough money for each individual member to support themselves, even in hard times. The ideal, however, is to establish the Rovers as such a force in Harborside that they earn enough to live well, even when they aren't actively working. This would also mean that if something happens to a member, and they can't work anymore, the others can still help take care of them.
2.  Update, renovate, and expand their headquarters. While it works well enough, and there's still more space than they need, it isn't the finest locale in Harborside. Most of it is the unused cistern and about a dozen old sewer maintenance rooms, but finding more nearby "dry" sewer areas would give them room to grow. Putting a floor over the cistern would make it safer, putting beds and furniture in all the rooms would give everyone a place to stay that isn't cold and wet, and making other entrances would mean more mobility across the district and avoid having to pass over the (admittedly a little dangerous) bridge each time they want to enter or leave.

Who They Know

Finally, every faction needs a few allies and a few enemies. One of each is good enough, two is better, and three is icing on the cake. These might be other large factions, either in the same district or a different one; a "mini faction" that comes into play only under specific circumstances; or even a major NPC in the district the faction is located in, who can almost be considered a faction in and of themselves.

The Rovers have two allies and two enemies, which is a lot for such a small-time operation, but works well when considered alongside the fact that the Rovers, and several of their major NPCs, are all looking to expand into something more formal.

Allies

Pinch: One of several major NPCs in Harborside itself. Although Pinch isn't a formal member of any gang, he maintains a close relationship with the Rovers; several of its members were recommended by Pinch, and are still friends with him. While he can't be counted on for a job, Pinch isn't above taking some heat or offering aid when he sees a member of the Rovers in trouble.
The Pearly Ray: A merchant ship and frequent visitor to Port Callus's harbor; its second mate is a former member of the Rovers turned straight, and its captain is a long-time friend of Ardin. Although the ship as a whole sticks to strictly lawful work, some of its crew are less scrupulous. They're willing to help the Rovers when they need muscle, information, an alibi, or if they can be convinced, even a place to temporarily lay low.

Enemies

Casa Nunes: Technically a rival gang, but Casa Nunes is an old-school family, proper mobsters, centered in the northern district of Terra Velha. That said, they've been involved in the seedier side of Harborside's businesses for over five generations. For their part, Casa Nunes views the Rovers as a thorn in their side, but are otherwise unbothered. They've got agreements with the other families, and the Rovers aren't going to be a major threat any time soon. But for the Rovers, Casa Nunes is a major factor in everything they do-- the Rovers present easy targets for Casa Nunes thugs, a patsy for the family to pin the blame on if something goes wrong, and a bug that Casa Nunes could crush any time if they felt like the cost of doing it was less than what the Rovers cost them in business. This means the Rovers feel constantly threatened, and are mostly hoping for a way to avoid the situation until they can protect themselves properly.
The Harbormasters: Exactly what they sound like, the people in charge of the both harbors, the river half and the ocean half. As well as being in charge of tracking incoming and outgoing ships and their cargo, the harbormasters of Port Callus function as law enforcement for specific "harbor" areas defined by the city's laws. This includes much of Harborside, making them enemies to most criminals, including the Rovers. Unfortunately for the Rovers, the big families and a couple of the largest street gangs have "agreements" with a lot of the individual harbormasters. As the new kid in town, the Rovers can't afford those same agreements. But fortunately, the harbormaster's newest captain, Master Guerreiro Gonsalves, is cracking down on bribery and has put his focus on threats from outside of the city, taking some of the heat off of the Rovers.

The Spectrum of Allies

So a funny thing happened to me recently. While scrolling Bluesky, where I primarily follow a number of art and TTRPG related people, I came across a post talking about the "Spectrum of Allies," showing a hand-drawn image of a sort of half-wheel with sections titled things like "passive allies" and "active opposition". Thinking this looked like a promising resource on running NPCs in tabletop games, and with not enough time to read the full post (I was bojangling on actually getting real work done) I opened the link in another tab, saved the post, and moved on. 

And SO, imagine my surprise when I later read the article to find that the Spectrum of Allies is actually a real-life political tool, designed to help activists find community support for their causes. Safe to say I was still really interested in the contents of the article, but the thought of using this nicely labelled half-circle as an RPG tool wouldn't leave my mind. But with no one else to do the work, I realized my dreams of another nifty NPC resource would have to be fulfilled by me-- hence this post you're reading now.

What is the Spectrum of Allies?

If you want to read the original article, you can find it right here. It isn't necessary reading because I'm going to kind of recap the essentials, but if you're also the kind of person who likes political science and activism, you really should check it out. The long and short of it is that the spectrum of allies is a tool made by George Lakey, a moderately-famous, nonviolent social activist involved in the civil rights movement, anti-Vietnam War activities, environmental activism, and a lot more. What's wild to me is that he seems to have been very active in Philadelphia (and Pennsylvania as a whole) but this was my first time hearing of him!

Putting that aside though, the spectrum of allies is meant to be a way for activists in a cause to determine which communities would be most helpful, or least helpful, to focus their efforts on for things like campaigning, outreach, etc. The intent is to win allies step-by-step, converting passive supporters into active ones and neutral outsiders into passive supporters. The diagram used to map these groups and assess their support levels looks like this:

An example diagram from the page at the Commons Library, drawn by Josh Kahn (unfortunately no idea who that is and the page doesn't give a link either).

 

Once you have a cause, you take the time to list and examine specific stakeholders in said cause, placing them into one of the five categories. The real use of the tool comes in knowing that the vast majority of people, for any given cause, fall somewhere in the middle of that graph, and even then, the majority of that majority are probably firmly "neutral". Not always because they are inherently neutral, but sometimes because they don't even know your cause exists and directly affects them! Once you know where a group generally falls though, you can work on specific actions to shift them up a notch. If they're passive supporters, maybe they just need help finding direct actions within their means; if they're neutral, maybe they need better info on why your cause matters.

 

Do you see where I'm going with this?

 

Where I'm Going With This  

While it's built to be used as a tool for political activism, this could also be really nifty for tracking the alliances/relationships of NPCs and factions to the players in a TTRPG campaign. In fact, it can be used as both a general and a specific tool. Generally as a way of tracking how certain factions/NPCs feel about the party, and more specifically by examining the actionable goals of a party and figuring out where certain factions/NPCs fall on the scale in relation to that goal.

General NPC Relationships

For general relationships between NPCs and the party, this functions a lot like other "NPC affinity" systems, but for me it has just the right amount of nuance, without getting too complicated or bogged down in details. You can easily place an NPC's relationship to the party somewhere on this scale-- like in real life, most will probably begin at "neutral", with exceptions for people or factions that are overtly against or aligned with players. 

An NPC's location on the scale helps determine things like how much help they might offer the party, what fraction of the resources they have that they'd also be willing to let the party use, or even their initial reaction in any social situation (basically taking on the function of a reaction roll). For example, an "active ally" NPC might freely share important information, loan the party supplies, let them stay for free in their inn, etc. On the other hand, a "passive ally" might offer these same services for a fee or in return for a favor, or might limit the amount of help they're willing to give (so maybe a free stay at their inn, but don't come back every night hoping to rely on their good will).

And of course, "passive opposition" and "active opposition" have roles to play, with active opposition being the party's enemies/rivals, and passive opposition functioning as allies to those same rivals.

General Faction Relationships 

Using the spectrum of allies to map general relationships also works with factions, though with less specificity. An "active ally" faction, probably a faction in which on of the PCs serves as a member, would be a good source of quests, rumors, supplies, and other benefits. On the other hand, neutral factions might be those who place quests on a job board, or approach the party because of their reputation. In this case, success in the quest might also come with the benefit of shifting the neutral faction's position to that of a passive ally. 

In a similar way to replacing the reaction rolls for NPCs, the location of a faction on the spectrum can also help track how specific members react to the party's presence (either by modifying the reaction roll, or negating it entirely in favor of the faction's views). Members of a faction in an active allyship with the party would likely extend a helping hand if the PCs ask for it, while a member of a faction in passive opposition would probably "ice out" the party in social situations, refusing any discussion beyond what's absolutely necessary. And suffice to say, a faction in active opposition means their members are going to treat the PCs as enemies, doing whatever they need to undermine them, up to and including violence.

If you want to get a little more complex with it, you can also think about where an NPC who doesn't recognize the party might fall on the spectrum of allies in a vacuum. A wealthy noble is a member of a "passive opposition" faction, but doesn't know that before talking to the party, letting them ask about important information; once the noble finds out though, that previously accessible source of info quickly becomes closed off. Similarly, if the party meets a rival thief during a heist, the relationship probably won't start off friendly (probably an "active opposition"); but once the heist is wrapped up, if the rival is a member of the same guild, they might be embarrassed by the mix-up and willing to help the party in their next job to make amends (being an "active ally").

Specific Goals

In most TTRPGs, but particularly in games with high levels of politicking, players usually have a specific cause or goal they're attempting to fulfill. Sometimes it's as simple as "clear the dungeon", sometimes as complex as "organize the region's power players into an alliance to fend off the machinations of a doomsday cult." Like the real-life use of the spectrum in organizing and raising support, using the spectrum of allies can be a way to sort factions and NPCs into categories built around their support of the player's goals.

For example, if the party's goal is to "clear the dungeon", their first active ally is probably whoever issued the quest (if anyone). They want the dungeon cleared, and they're willing to pay the party to make it happen. But a "passive ally" might be a merchant in the town near the dungeon, whose business has dried up as a result of whatever threat lurks inside. The merchant really needs the dungeon cleared, but money is tight and they can't afford to chip in their own reward, so instead they'll use what they can offer-- info about the dungeon and its local history, or staking their reputation to vouchsafe the party to other townsfolk. 

Importantly though, outside of the goal to "clear the dungeon", this merchant might not be much of an ally. If the party spent time turning the merchant into a true friend, they might offer a small discount. But if not, well, they need to make a living, and supplies way out here aren't cheap.

Turning the same example to a faction, rather than a specific NPC, perhaps the village has a taboo around disturbing the dungeon that the party is trying to clear, one held only by those entrenched in the old ways or adherents of the local religion. Villagers worried about tradition might be "passive opposition", refusing to do business with the party once they find out the PCs are making trips into the depths-- whoops, there goes your blacksmith! Hope you didn't need any armor repairs. Those faithful to the old ways, on the other hand, might take more of an "active opposition" role. This doesn't necessarily have to mean breaking out the pitchforks and torches (although it's a possibility!) It could mean gathering in the local tavern and hosting town halls, trying to persuade the "neutral" villagers (who don't care about the dungeon and just want to be safe) that disturbing whatever lives there is only going to make the situation worse.

Shifting Slices 

That final bit is, in my opinion, the strongest function of the spectrum of allies. By sorting NPCs and faction into these distinct categories, you can build actionable information about how they might move from one slice of the spectrum to another-- and what the party can do to make it happen.

In the case of the merchant from earlier, they start as a passive ally, but maybe they just need a way to become actionable that works within their needs. They already said they can't offer a reward... but if the party asks about spare supplies, or a small discount on wares, that might be something the merchant is willing to do. Now you've turned a source of passive support into a source of active support instead (and if you can win them over as a friend, maybe the discount carries on even after the dungeon is cleared).

Creating actions that help move groups back and forth across the spectrum is particularly helpful for tracking factions in campaigns with a lot of politicking, especially if paired with discrete goals. A faction that serves as an active ally for one goal might be more neutral on another, while another faction who gives only passive support during one course of action is adamantly against another, turning them into a passive opposition more willing to help the party's rivals. Of course, the eventual goal is likely to build widespread support for the party's overarching goal of the campaign, whatever that might be, turning all of the factions into "active support"-- or at the very least shifting them from being neutral into something more like passive allies. And having the party take a course of action that a faction agrees/disagrees with might risk pushing them closer or farther from actively supporting the party when it's time.

City '26, Week 4: Harborside – Specialty Shops/Services

 So here we are, just over a month on front the start of City 26, and I'm managing to keep pace pretty well. Except for this past weekend (I decided I deserved a short break) I've managed to do one entry every single day. It's not much just yet, but it does mean I've got 31 pieces of Port Callus written up and ready to play. Nearly a complete district! 

But even though I love what I've done and I'm excited to share it anywhere, I'm sticking to my promise to only make a post about it when I actually finish a good chunk. So the only thing I've got finished versus last week is some specialty shops and services you'd find around the Harborside district.

The famous Mercado do Bolhão (surprisingly empty in this picture, because it's usually PACKED).

1d4 Specialty Shops & Services (Harborside)

1.  Sig, the Mass Market Trader: Specialized "everything" merchant with a vast network of trade connections, willing to buy and sell all stock. Although they'll buy anything, there's no guarantee they'll give a good price for it. Similarly, while Sig sells "everything", what they actually have in stock depends on what's recently found its way into their shop. Newly-arrived stock only sticks around until Sig finds a willing buyer, 2d4 days at most. Build trust, and you might be lucky enough for Sig to reach out when they find something you'd be interested in. And if you're hoping for something off-the-books, Sig is willing to help their friends make a connection (for a fee) but won't participate any farther in the business, meaning there are none of their usual guarantees of quality. 
2. Red Spice Stalls: Trader stalls found throughout Harborside, usually close to the river but out of the way of main thoroughfares. Red Spice stalls look and function identically to others, offering legitimate goods, but also act as on-the-go black markets. Usually this means contraband deemed illegal by the City Court or banned by the Freemen's Guild, but sometimes they just offer substances tightly controlled by specific guilds– like medicine sold only by the Apothecarium, the city's consortium of medicinal suppliers. In many ways, dealing in these controlled goods can be riskier than selling anything outright illegal, and comes with a steep price tag. Most Red Spice stalls work out of carts or wagons, so that they can pack up and move when necessary, and better avoid complaints by locals who don't appreciate the proprietors using their residential streets.
3. Water Merchants: The large number of sailing ships that move in and out of the harbor require a constant supply of freshwater for their voyages. In olden days, crews collected water from natural springs along the hillsides, or ventured further up the Goldrock to fill their vessels there. But with the city's advancing urbanization, the old springs have either run dry or been set aside for citizen-use only, while ships can no longer pass the marker line of the Freedom Flag and the river near the harbor has become too polluted. Enter the water merchants, an informal collection of traders who specialize in bringing large hauls of fresh water down from the mountain range in the west. Although general suppliers can also provide water, because their water is sourced from higher altitudes, water merchants guarantee both cleanliness and taste. This has made them the preference for wealthier ship captains, or those planning for long-haul trips across deep water. And although there is no water merchant guild yet, several of the most prominent merchants have begun to organize their efforts, splitting costs and profits between themselves to better compete against the general suppliers.
4. Tattoo Studios: Where sailors abound, you can always find someone with the needles necessary for putting ink to skin, and this holds as true in Port Callus as anywhere else. Outside of Harborside however, the number of available artists drops significantly. Although Port Callus is independent, the surrounding cultures influence the city's own, and tattoos have struggled to find widespread adoption-- perhaps in part because of their association in these surrounding countries with foreign travelers. Tattoos are more common among those living in the poorer, northern district of Terra Velha, but only slightly. On the other hand, several of the largest merchant guilds in the city require members to bear a tattoo of the guild's mark. Originally intended as proof of membership for a class of people who travel extensively, better record-keeping and the minting of special badges makes the practice obsolete, but one still maintained for reasons of tradition.

History, Just For Fun 

Like everything else I'm making for Port Callus, the shops here are inspired by things I've seen walking around my new home of Porto, as well as things I've read about it. Since I'm designing a city inspired by Porto, I figured boning up on local history would be both helpful and entertaining, and I was right. Like a lot of older cities, Porto used to house a lot of thriving markets, many of them specialized-- like the Feira do Pão, a bread market that used to be just around the corner from where we stayed after first moving; and the Mercado do Peixe, which, as you might imagine, was a fish market.

It's hidden behind the stall, but the last building on the row on the left is actually a Taco Bell now.

Unfortunately, a growing population, increased economic pressures, and stricter city government meant a slow decline for the old markets. As Porto grew, City Hall wanted the markets moved away from the nicer parts of the city that they'd helped make so economically successful. But while that was a problem, the real death-knell for most of the small specialty markets were the rise of larger, all-in-one markets. Usually large buildings designed to house lots of smaller stalls, this is where the city's government consolidated the smaller markets they kicked off the streets. Of course, in a turn of irony, so many of these markets would eventually be rendered obsolete by large malls and box stores.

This isn't to say that Porto has no markets though! On the contrary, there are about a half-dozen large-scale markets like the Mercado do Bolhão and Mercado Beira-Rio, where you can buy fresh fruits, vegetables, fish, wine, and everything else. And there are dozens of small-scale, open-air markets scattered around the city (usually referred to as feiras, from what I can tell). So while markets not be as common as they were in the heydays of the mid-1800s, there are still a lot of them in the city, especially the older portions (and so a lot of inspiration to be had by walking around them).

How to Generate (Better) Random Books

In the most recent session of a weekly 5e campaign I run, set in Magic: the Gathering's Greek mythology-inspired plane of Theros, my players began a delve into a massive library in an underground city on the border between the Mortal Plane and the Underworld. This wasn't unexpected, since the story had been leading them there for a few sessions, and I'd planned the dungeon by writing out the rooms, stocking it, and even making a proper battle map. 

Because it's a giant library, I also made sure to include some treasure in the form of specific books, ones that were either monetarily valuable or ones that I knew had roleplay/backstory value to specific characters. To be clear though, I wasn't really looking forward to this process. That's because there are usually three major methods of creating books-as-treasure:

1. Take an existing book, usually something well known like To Kill a Mockingbird, and slap a coat of fantasy paint on the cover (usually including a funny referential title like To Kill a Manticore, although that's not technically required).
2. Using your knowledge of the setting and/or your PCs backstories, design a book, including its appearance, title, and a brief description of the contents and why they'll matter to your players.
3. Find one of the hundreds of online Fantasy Book Generators™ and roll on it, adjusting the results as necessary to achieve the flavor best suited to your game.

Using mostly the first and second method, I made about a dozen specific books. But I tried my best to shunt off some of the effort with a few classic GM tricks-- adding shelves of poorly maintained books made ruined and worthless because of damage, books that lack interest because they look cheap but are in languages not known by the PCs, and using weight to limit how many books the party could run off with.

Did It Work? 

Well, it definitely helped limit the amount of legwork I had to do, but it also means that in a library of hundreds of scrolls, books, clay tablets, and other informative material, there are only 12 books of actual note. The others worth taking are best described with the line "it seems like it could be valuable, but you'll have get it appraised to know more." This is exacerbated by another issue, which is that my players go absolutely ga-ga for books, and will definitely search every shelf they see. Together this means that the more time my party spends in the library-dungeon, the more the game loses verisimilitude to an absurdly large number of books without any apparent content.

When we start our next session and resume searching piles of books, I'm going to need something fast and punchy for developing fun and interesting books on the fly. That seems like a perfect use case for Method #3, using a random book generator, but the issue is that there are so. many. bad generators for fantasy books. A secondary issue is that almost every single generator assumes a generic high fantasy setting, or stocks itself with waaaaay too many examples of punny books made using Method #1. I don't want my fiftieth copy of "an orange book bound with red thread, titled Brotherhood of the Necklace", especially in a setting inspired by ancient Greece. What I want is "a book describing the historic effects of necromancy on the work force of the Meletian Peninsula". Now that's something that's gonna grab a player's attention, but it's also something you're effectively never going to have to explain in more detail. Unfortunately, generators like that either don't exist, are very rare, or too setting non-specific to really be what I want.

So that's the problem I found myself with, and after days spent mulling over the idea of how to make interesting, setting-specific books on the fly, I realized there's already a fully-built, highly-detailed, numbered table full of specific types of books. We already use it every day in real libraries all around the world! I'm talking about none other than the Dewey Decimal System.

Now THESE are the kinds of books I'm looking to generate.

What is the Dewey Decimal System? 

In case you're unfamiliar, or you learned it once and then forgot (I wouldn't blame you) the DDC (or Dewey Decimal Classification, if you're formal and long-winded) splits all books into three sets of 10 divisions, each one more specific than the last. It maybe sounds more complicated than it is, but basically, it sorts every book into a category using three numbers, and the numbers tell you what the book is about.So for example, a book in section 661 is Technology [6**] --> Chemical Engineering [66*] --> Industrial Chemicals [661]. And I didn't choose that topic, by the way! I determined it randomly, by rolling 3d10.

Whenever you need to make up a book on the fly, you don't have to dig around for a random generator and you don't have to try and shift bits and pieces of the result to better fit whatever setting you're using. Instead, just pull up the Dewey Decimal list, roll 3d10, and make up a generic idea that fits both the topic and the setting. When you roll the dice, you can either roll 3d10 in order and use those to find the topic (so 3-4-3 in order gives you Military, Tax, Trade, and Industrial Law) or you roll all at once then mix-and-match the numbers for extra flexibility (so you could take 343, 334, or 433).

When you roll, you can use the Wikipedia page for "List of Dewey Decimal Classes" (the one I linked above) or you can use this page at the Institute for Social and Economic Change (which is apparently a research institute in Bangalore, India). Personally, I prefer the latter because it's already split up into three sections for you, each with their own little table of results.

 

Look at this beautiful table. It's like it was made to be referenced by nerds rolling dice! 

And look, I'm not going to argue this is faster than a random book generator, because it obviously isn't. But in some ways, it is easier. I find that random generators tend to produce results with titles that are groan-worthy puns, rely on elements outside of my setting (no elves in my campaign without elves thank you), or sound much more grandiose than a bit of random treasure (good luck getting your party to sell a book called Fey Secrets: Revelations of the Cracked Mirror.) They also almost universally focus on very fantasy-esque genres like myths and arcane lore, totally neglecting some of the truly fascinating or nitty-gritty genres like travelogues and geometry. It's also way more fun to quickly toss together a book that fits your setting, and see where it leads you. 

 But Are You Sure It Works?

To act as an example, I'm going to really quickly roll 3d10 and make a book about the topic. Like seriously quick-- roll, look it up, and 30 seconds or less on the concept. Probably faster than I would even take in an actual game, where my players would also be asking questions and (unknowingly) helping me expand the concept. I'd say you could time me, but obviously I already did all of this in the course of writing the blog post, so just pretend it's happening concurrently with your reading. Okay? Okay. Ready? Let's go.

Alright, 3d10 gives me 275 (in that order) which points us at Religion: History of Christianity, and History of Christianity in Asia specifically. In Theros, Heliod is the ruler of the gods, a Zeus expy associated with the sun and light, making him a good christian-type deity replacement. There isn't an Asia, but there is Setessa, the easternmost section of Theros and a place where most people primarily worship Nylea and Karametra, the God of the Hunt and God of Harvests, respectively. So this book is about the history of Heliod's worship in Setessa, its spread and the struggle to maintain prominence against the worship of Nylea instead. Quick title idea is History of Heliod's Temples: Worship in Setessa. 

It isn't complicated or original, but that's also kinda the point. It also gave me a jumping off point for drawing the players in, asking questions about the history of Setessa and the nature of divine worship. Thinking about it a little farther, it also sets up a potential series of books all about Heliod, with each volume focused on a specific region.

Final Notes 

As you can see, if you end up with a topic that is more real-world specific, like French Literature or Newspapers in Italy, just quickly sub it out with a piece of your own setting, just off the top of your head, and sort out the particulars later. There's a good chance you won't even need to, since its unlikely someone is going to take the copy of a Waterdhavian newspaper from three decades ago that you just rolled up. 

If you still prefer using a random generator for your books, I won't blame you. Like you, I also play TTRPGs, which means I love a good d100 table or a well-built generator. My problem isn't using the generators, but trying to find one that works at the moment I need it. I don't want to stock every shelf in my library-dungeon ahead of time, but I also don't want to answer every Investigation roll of 15 or above that my players make with "Riddles of the Sphinx, a scroll of enigmatic riddles that grant esoteric knowledge if solved" (okay, that last one fucks actually, but I promise you I've rolled like eighteen times on this same generator for this post without that level of success so you get my point). I also don't want more than two or three refrains of "you find [d6] books in good condition, on topics ranging from geometry to poetry, probably worth a few hundred gold pieces all together."

I will also acknowledge that generating a random book this way means you miss out on descriptions of the cover, the page type, paper quality, color of the edges, and all that fancy bullshit but I promise you-- you will not need it. Think back to the last time you generated a random book your players picked up. Did you actually give a description of the exterior? And if you did, how glazed were their eyes when you described the method of stitching used on the spine? When it comes to descriptions, sometimes less is more, and unless the book you're putting into the character's hands really does stand out for some reason, the player's minds will come up with a good, old-looking book for you.

I'm going to be testing this concept firsthand on Sunday during my weekly game, so I'll know soon whether it can actually withstand the fires of adversity. But I'm definitely more excited to try this than to keep digging through page after page of Google results for book generators, and that counts for a lot.

City '26: Introduction + Weeks 1–3

What is City '26?

So I am once again throwing myself into a TTRPG design challenge, a la Dungeon '23 or Galaxy '24. This year, it looks like the hot new concept is City '26, a classic 52 week challenge with the goal of building and fleshing out a city setting for your tabletop needs. Created by Alone in the Labyrinth and Garblag Games, the original concept involves building a city of fifty-two different wards, each full of NPCs, factions, plot hooks, and more. If you want more details, there's a megapost of participants and ideas on the Alone in the Labyrinth blog. I really recommend checking it out to get a better overview of everything, and see what some other writers are doing with the challenge.

Now the issue is, I am well aware of my (very bounded) limits, and I also know this won't be the only thing I work on this year, so 52 wards with seven different qualities each is pretty beyond me. Not to mention, while I have some ideas for what to do with my city, I definitely don't need 52 separate sections. But Nova, owner of Idle Cartulary (an incredible blog that I can't recommend enough) has her own list of City '26 goals and ideas that is way more up my alley. She breaks it down into 4-6 districts, each with just enough detail to feel like a living, breathing place but without shifting into "mega city" territory. Since my games tend to stick to a smaller scale (I prefer cities and regions over countries and continents, thank you) this works better for me anyway, and much of what I'm going to be doing will be based that.

So instead of weekly wards, each day I'll be sitting down to do just one small thing– a single entry in a d6 encounter table, a new major location in one of the districts, the name and description of a street. Simple, bit-sized, easy(-ish) to keep up with. My second problem is that daily posts are basically anathema to me, so instead of an update every day, I'll be taking all of my completed work each week and condensing it into one Monday blog post. And yes, completed is doing some heavy lifting there, because if all I have between last week and this one is half a carousing table and an NPC, I probably won't be doing an update.

Okay, challenge set! We have a goal, we have guidelines, we have a schedule. So... 

Where Do We Start?

Well, the first thing any fictional city needs is a name and some inspiration, and I'm lucky enough to live in a place that provides an abundance of the latter:

    

 

An excellent view of Porto (although not quite what it looks like right now in the winter). 

The classic advice of "write what you know" holds doubly true in world building, where everything you've read and seen is going to be the bedrock of your own ideas, whether you know it or not. And ever since I moved to Porto, I can't go two blocks without seeing something that sparks the imagination. Seriously, every alley here is a story, and over six months after moving my head is still on a swivel when I walk down the street, trying to look at every restaurant, building cornice, and alley gutter. Not that I ever stop gawping in any city I've lived in, no matter how long I've been there– for me, inspirational daydreaming has become a professional hazard. That said, a TTRPG challenge all about building a city seems like the perfect opportunity to get some of these ideas out of my noggin and down onto paper (or digital paper, at least).

 

It helps that Porto is a great model for a classic fantasy city already. Although its "modern" incarnation is a relatively young 900 years, the settlement that would become Porto was founded in 275 BC, and this area of the Douro (the river the city sits on) has been settled for at least 2,800 years. That makes it one of the oldest population centers in Europe, alongside the slightly-more-famous cities of Lisbon and Rome. And the city's Roman-era name, Portus Cale, also gives a great name with a vibe that fits what I'm going for– Port Callus.

Port Callus, Here We Come!

Divided between two steep hills, Port Callus is a city split in two, separated by a river harbor that runs through the middle. Although its foundations are ancient, dating back three millennia, the current city has stood for six centuries. The harbor at the river's mouth is the main draw for outsiders, an access point from the western ocean into the deeper reaches of the continent. Technically an independent city-state, the city remains heavily influenced by the politics and leadership of the surrounding kingdoms. To maintain this independence, Port Callus relies on trade agreements, economic importance, and the tension between its neighbors. This tenuous independence also makes Port Callus a haven for free-thinkers, political apostles, unscrupulous merchants hoping to dodge civil taxes, and anyone seeking a life outside of the establishment.

Harborside

A district that covers all sections of the city right next to the river, as well as the land surrounding the river mouth and the bottom slopes of both the northern and southern sides. Although the district is split by the river, there are no bridges in it's borders-- travel between the two sides is done by ferry or gondola. The only bridges over the river connect points higher up along the slopes, deep in the city's other districts, making it more difficult to get to them than it's worth if you're already in Harborside. The areas closest to the mouth of the river are reserved for warehouses and inter-merchant trading, but as you move farther from the deep waters of the harbor, both sides of the river become lined with increasingly dense market stalls and day traders, hawking wares to passer-by.

Landmark: The Flag of Freedom

A flag as large as a ship's sail, hanging from a 100-foot metal pole sunk deep into the mud of the harbor. It sits at where the mouth of the river narrows, and marks the legal distinction between "harbor" and "river". Sailing vessels are allowed on one side, ferries and gondolas on the other; neither is allowed to pass the flag. The flag bears the mark of the Freemen's Guild, a loose collection of merchant and craft guilds that govern the city, but the shape of the flag on its pole is often used as an emblem to represent Port Callus as a whole.

Major Locations

• Cellarside: At one point shortly after the harbor, the northern Rue du Morte bends away from the river to follow the thrust of the hillside before turning back. The backside of this hill, facing the river, was carved out centuries ago to be used as cellars-- the cool earth ideal for storing wine, beer, ice, and more. As river side realty rose to a premium, so did the value of these cellars, and many were sold off and converted into businesses, primarily restaurants. Now they all jostle elbows in the slim space originally allotted to each cellar, so that patrons sitting on the patio of one restaurant can pass drinks and food to patrons of the one next door without even needing to stretch. 

Cais da Estiva, the street that inspired Cellarside (those little arches are each a different restaurant!)

•  Oceanview: Moderately wealthy, southern-side neighborhood within the otherwise working class district. The homes here belong to merchants who are wealthy, but don't make enough money to live in other districts. Because of this, the houses are taller than others in the district, and fronted with intricate stonework. Some of them even have yards, but small ones limited in size by the lack of available flat land.
•  Rue du Barredo: Actually a conglomeration of several narrow alleyways, all using the same name, stuffed between three larger roads. This criss-cross of unnamed streets acts as an informal neighborhood, filled with cramped apartments all built on top of each other on one of the city's steepest hillsides. Population estimates are difficult, as the area keeps growing, taking every inch of available space it can. Located on the northern side of the river.
•  The Auction Block: Covered pavilion with a glass roof, whose wooden supports are painted bright red. Special auctions are held here every three days, for unclaimed goods or those seized by the harbormaster as failure to pay fines and fees. In the earliest years of the city's prosperity, this was done at a raised stone platform, the literal auction block-- the original still sits at the pavilion's center, and is now called "The Block". These days it is used to display particularly rare or valuable goods expected to draw high bids. Outside of auctions, the Auction Block transforms into an open-air market for raw goods, materials, and food ingredients. Although the prices are a bargain, outsiders are warned against visiting, as the hectic crowds and frantic buying and selling are overwhelming and difficult to parse for those without hefty market experience. Found on the southern side of the river.
•  The Floating Silver: This two-masted barge has been sitting in the same spot on the harbor for nearly thirty years. Having passed through the hands of at least three different proprietors, the ship's main deck acts as a dockside tavern. The real draw though is the not-exactly-legal gambling house kept on the decks below. An open secret among residents and frequent harbor visitors, the Floating Silver is kept in business via popularity amongst middle-class merchants, and frequent "gifts" to both the constabulary and the harbormaster.
•  The Market Mover: A large funicular on the southern side of the river, made from three stacked platforms. The upper level has comfortable seats, the middle level wooden benches, and the lower level is an open space designed to hold large quantities of goods. Its primary use is in transporting large loads from the market to the wealthier neighborhoods at the top of the hill.

Major Streets

•  Rue du Morte. The lengthy, winding boulevard that runs directly adjacent to the northern side of the river. Paved with cobblestones that regularly pull loose. Full of cheap market stalls during the day, which disappear at sundown, giving the area over to roving gambling carts, prostitutes, and drunks. Originally called Rue du Norte, meaning "Northern Road", elevated levels of crime and several muggings-turned-murders gave the road its new, clever moniker.
• Rue du Sul. A twin to Rue du Morte, this road follows the southern edge of the river. The road here is paved with flat stones, and small, orderly tiles in front of the permanent bars and shops. The merchant stalls here are geared more toward tourists and middle-class buyers. The nightlife, while still rowdy, is kept in check by "bruisers"-- trained doormen paid for by the wealthier bars and gambling dens. Their contracts typically stipulate service "from the door to the river" under the belief that issues in front of a business would dissuade wealthy customers.
• Cobber's Row. Narrow, cobblestone street with a sudden sharp turn. Runs north from the Rue du Morte, then parallel to the river after the turn. Named for the high number of stone masons that once kept shop here, responsible for maintaining the cobblestone streets. Most have left, pushed out of the city by economic pressures.
• Saojoao Way. The main avenue connecting Harborside with the northern district of Terra Velha. Although it's nearly three times as wide as a standard street, it feels more narrow as a result of heavy carriage traffic, and the market stalls and restaurant patios along its sides. Four times each day-- at the start and end of working hours, as well as the beginning and end of lunch hours-- this street becomes clogged with working class citizens, making carriage travel nearly impossible.
• Rue du Fluir. A sunken alleyway, just a little ways off of the Rue du Morte, whose stone and dirt bottom sits below the water level of the river. Originally carved out to catch sewage runoff during intense storms, instead it slowly filled with castoff people who had nowhere else to go. Doorways here are built into the carved walls, and slightly elevated above the drainage ditch using stone porches. Some are actually side tunnels for the sewers, blocked off and converted into residences.
• Rue du Prata. The "street of silver" that connects to Rue du Morte at one end and a northern section of Saojao Way at the other. Originally named for its plentiful silversmiths, the street has grown to become a central location for all types of metal smithing. There are rumors that on particularly sunny days, the gaps between its cobblestones sparkle with flakes of castoff metal.

1d4 Examples of Typical Buildings

1. Converted Townhome. Three or four stories tall, with an exterior of either brightly painted limestone or blue-and-white mosaic tiles. Once a local residence, the lower floors are now a tavern, cafe, general store, or some other type of business. The upper floors have been subdivided, and rooms are individually rented.
   
   
   

    
2. Old Cellar. The steep hills and switchback roads of the city result in many places where residents have dug into hillside corners for extra space. Most often cellars, these are sometimes used as homes or businesses instead, for those who don't mind having busy roads right above their heads.
3. Buried Church. A typical place of worship, now used almost exclusively by older residents who prefer these over the larger cathedrals found up the hill. Their presence is rarely obvious, as the crush of urban sprawl has turned the once-prominent roads they sat on into side streets or alleyways.
4. Docked Ship. In a way, these are just as common in Harborside as buildings. Although most of the sailing ships are temporary, bound to stay only for a few days, they will sometimes anchor for weeks at a time. During the winter especially, when the normally hot and humid weather of Port Callus gives way to storms of freezing rain, some crews will stick around for months, living on the funds earned in the warmer months.

 1d6 Harborside Scenes

1.  A street vendor argues with a pair of customers, who don't seem to speak the common tongue very well. The merchant is selling (roll 1d6: 1. spices, 2. clothing, 3. jewelry, 4. prepared food, 5. raw food/ingredients, 6. art). Because they have refused to haggle, as is customary, their attempts to simply hand over the money have insulted the merchant.
2. Porters unloading crates, barrels, and sacks of goods from a large sailing ship, then moving the goods only a short distance to a smaller longboat at the other end of the same dock.
3. The door of a tavern bursts open as a burly man is tossed through it, by two larger individuals. Tattoos on all three people mark them as sailors. The man now moaning on the ground absolutely reeks of alcohol, and vomits into the gutter.
4. A crowd has gathered in front of a Cellarside restaurant, where one of the menu barkers has been knocked cold by a visiting artisan, a sculptor whose short temper mixed poorly with the barker's constant pestering. The sculptor's well-worked muscles have broken the barker's nose, creating concerns of lasting damage.
5. A shipment loaded on the Market Mover wasn't tied down properly, and fell off just as it started to move, narrowly missing some of the waiting crowd below and creating a mess of spilled fish, crabs, and eels.
6. A young child throws mud from the gutter at a line of laundry strung high above. Roll 1d6. On a 1-3, the child flees just as a resident leans from the window, causing the resident to begin shouting, blaming the passing PCs for the mess. On a 4-6, the child is caught in the act by a passing constable, who grabs the child by the arm and hauls them to the building's door to apologize.

The First Post

 In 2021, I started looking at TTRPG blogs in earnest, trying to soak up all the cool game information I could with my spongy little brain. In 2022, I realized I know a lot about things, and I'd like to share what I know. So I decided I'd start a blog of my own! In 2023, which is now, I have yet to start that blog (unless you count this post right here).

The truth is, starting a blog is hard... sort of. I mean, it should be easy, right? When you get down to brass tacks, starting a blog is something that I hazard most of us have experience with. Assuming that most of us also grew up in the internet era where things like tumblr and livejournal ruled the blog-o-sphere, and even Facebook was treated as a sort of informal blog where you shared what you felt was alright to say to people who knew you in real life. The point is, we've all done blogs before, right?

 

Depicted: A Thought Process

Well, the bigger issue is that I've never done a blog with a point before. This is my first attempt at making something whose purpose is to communicate specific information with the wider world, in a format dominated by the sound of my own mental voice as I type. It's intimidating, and it's hard to know where to go from here. So the obvious answer then is to get a little meta with it. Shake it up a bit.

Which is why my very first entry here is going to be a discussion on how to write the first post of your own blog. I know this might seem a little out of hand, given my lack of experience on the subject. But I'm sure it'll be fine. I've read a lot (and typed a lot too) so I'm sure I know what I'm doing. So let's break it down. What are the things you need to make a successful blog post? What's the formula for it; the recipe for success, as it were?

1. Pick a Topic

Okay, pretty obvious when you think about it, but a challenge nonetheless. Before you do anything, you have to decide what it is you're going to write about today. Maybe you want to talk about the new game you're making? Perhaps a discussion on how to make jousting rules for the rules-light OSR game that's all the rage right now? Or maybe you could write a post about how to write a blog post. That last one is a little derivative maybe, but sure, you do you. Once you have a topic of choice though, what's next?

2. Find a Hook

Okay, you have your topic. But now the question is, what about this topic is going to make someone want to click the link you post on twitter and come read about it? In other words, what's so special about the topic? This is what people traditionally call a hook.

 

The Parts of a Hook, for Reference

 

This is an even bigger challenge than the topic, because you have to stuff the hook into the very start of the post in some way, to drag people into reading further. My hook was talking about how something children did every day from the mid-2000's to the late 2010's is a Hard Thingᵀᴹ to do. It's good because it's funny, in a self-deprecating and too-close-to-the-truth sort of way.

3. Begin Writing About It

Okay, this is the hardest step, but from there it gets easier, I promise. Once you've got your topic, and you've found a hook to build around, you have to start writing. Hit the little keys on your keyboard, watch the letters appear, backspace a lot to fix typos, and voilá! You've got a blog post. You're not quite finished yet though.

4. Stick Some Images In There

Now for the tricky part (not the hard part, just the tricky part). Writing is all well and good, but no one wants to just read words. Dear god, could you imagine? All the boring monotony of just reading, none of it broken up by those nice little images where our brains can just relax and take a breather? No thank you. 

See? Here's a fun little image to break up this paragraph.

Finding images can be hard, but it's alright to just put whatever you want in there (just make sure you're allowed to use it, and that you give credit!) For example, I used a very basic emoji and a funny little picture of a fish hook. Easy!

5. Hit the Publish Button

Okay, you got this. Just hit the Publish button. It might also say something like "Post" or have a little arrow on it. Yep, that one. You got it, the mouse is hovering above it now. Go on, click it. You...you're not clicking it. Just click it. Click the button. The button. I know it's hard but you have to, if you ever want to get this stupid blog off the ground. It'll be easier once it's out there in the world, I promise. You're so close, you just have to hit the button. Okay, how about this? Hit the button that saves it as a draft, then come back later. Set a timer or something. Maybe just schedule it for posting, if that's an option. But post it later, when it feels like less of a challenge. (Don't re-read it though, because you'll be tempted to make all sort of changes).

Good job! You've now officially started a blog. Just do this over and over again, and hopefully you'll stumble into some moderate fame and success someday. Oh and also, don't forget to put links to all your posts on social media too! Gotta get that engagement from somewhere, after all.