Over the weekend, I was chatting via email with a freelancer working on his first assignment for Raging Swan Press. During the conversation, I gave what I thought was a brief overview of my publishing and design philosophy.
I was complimented the other day on my success with Raging Swan Press. Being English, I immediately thanked the person. Later, though, I wondered, “Have I succeeded? Is Raging Swan Press actually a success?”
I’ve recently become lost in several Unending Sentences of Doom. I’m sure you know the kind I mean. They go on for ever and ever. It’s a paragraph in its own right. By the time you’ve finished it, you’ve completely forgotten what it was about!
Several years ago, in my Borderland of Adventure campaign, our band of heroes explored a fragment of the upper level of The Forge of Fury. Sadly, their exploration was cut short when their foray alerted a tribe of orcs in the upper level. In the ensuing battle, the party were forced to flee—and only escaped because of the heroic sacrifice of one of their number.
A couple of years ago, I wrote the Shadowed Keep on the Borderlands as a homage to the Moathouse from T1 The Village of Hommlet (perhaps a perfect low-level adventure). Before I started, I sat down and worked out what I wanted to achieve with the adventure and how I planned to achieve it. These four posts layout my evil scheme:
It’s a virtual certainty that as a freelance game designer you’ll be doing the bulk of your work from home. In theory, working from home is great. You don’t have to commute, there are no annoying work colleagues distracting you and your boss is not looking over your shoulder.
Writing good RPG material combines both technical writing and prose writing, with one or the other taking precedence depending on whether you are writing “crunch” (rule mechanics) or “flavour” (things like a monster’s background or a village write-up).