A chronological listing of every post The Angry GM has ever… posted.
Today’s lesson about how you all break your games and then ask me to fix them. Specifically, it’s about how all the little, fiddly rules that don’t seem to do anything are actually the key to interesting, meaningful, fun gameplay.
All it took was one word from one image from one hastily scribbled list in last week’s article to find out that you’ve all learned nothing from me in the last twelve years. That word was quicksand.
In the second lesson about Angry Open-World Gaming, I reveal what’s in my gaming bag whenever I show up to run a session of my open world game.
Another month, another mailbag. This one’s all about making yourself a better GM. And nothing else. How much work to put in. How to work efficiently. And how to change your gaming habits for the better.
This one’s what I call a shower article. Mainly because people complain when I call articles like this, “articles I s$&% out while I’m s$&%ing.” The idea’s the same though. The article’s the result of an idea that came to me while I was dealing with some biological need or another. I wasn’t specifically working…
In this, the first of four lessons about how to run your own open-world game just like Angry, you’ll learn why your brain is just too damaged to run a good open-world game. Again.
Let’s talk about this Angry Open World Game thing. We all knew this was coming. You knew it. I knew it. The moment I said, “I could tell you all how I’m running my open-world campaign, but I know you’re not really interested,” you knew I was playing “dance for your article.” And you should…
I figured out to run exactly the sort of open world game I wanted to run. The perfect game for my players. I just forgot to tell them that.
In this article, the Angry GM will finally tell you exactly what role-playing is and exactly how to do it. He’ll give you a simple four-step process for playing a character. You just have to get through 4,000 words of preface first.
This month’s Ask Angry column is all about one thing and just one thing: called shot systems. But it’s also about building a game around fighting giant colossus monsters. Oh, and it’s also about the real secret of getting players to play creatively. But aside from those two other things, it’s just about one thing.
It’s time for me to answer the same basic GMing question I’ve been answering differently every few years for the last twelve: when should you resort to using the rules and the dice to resolve things.
It’s time for the first real article about Narrative Theory for GMs. The topic is conflict in traditional narratives and in RPGs.
Now that I’ve confused all of y’all thoroughly about plot structure, let’s start a new series on narrative theory for game masters. That can’t possibly go wrong.
Another month, another pile of questions to answer.
In the SECOND part of my TWO part so far series on plotting a campaign, I explain what plot structure is and why it’s useful. You know, before I do any crazy s$&% like trying to tell you about Korean narrative structures and their applicability in exploration-based campaigns.
Let’s appropriate us some culture! Let’s use a 1500-year old Korean narrative style to plot a better pretend elf game!
The only reason I’m answering this question is because I was in pain and on drugs.
The thing I like most about having a large fanbase and an active Discord community – apart from having my big-a$& ego stroked constantly — is that I don’t have to pick my own fights anymore. Used to be that if I wanted a f$&%ing fight, I had to go out and start one. But…
All you need to start a campaign is a bunch of a characters and a first adventure, right? That’s what I said. But if you’re going to start a campaign with an ongoing plot, that’s not true is it. Yes. It is. Come on a road trip with the Tiny GM and I and I’ll show you how.
Ask Angry time again. This time, I’m addressing realism in games, facing, why the Faerunian commodities market is a sucky addition to the game, and how not to design a tracking system.
You couldn’t leave me alone about it, could you? Fine, I’ll tell you why I chose D&D 3.5 over Pathfinder and why I banned monks and hate gnomes. And why I can’t give you an answer you’ll like. And how to think for yourself.
I’m in the midst of starting a new campaign. So it’s a good time to look at how to start a new campaign. Especially when you don’t have the time to do a full Session Zero.
It’s time for my occasionally annual New Year’s resolution type post.
It’s a Christmas miracle. I opened up some letters to Angry for my December mailbag and they were all good. No one ended up on the naughty list.
Let’s not talk about role-playing games today. Let’s talk about other games and how they might help us design role-playing game downtime systems. And why that’s a terrible thing to talk about.
Before I can show you how I present towns, I have to talk about what players can do in towns. And before I can talk about what players can do in towns, I have to talk ABOUT what players can do in towns. That’ll make sense when you read the article. But the article’s about downtime activities.
After recording an interviewing with Nick at the Brewmaster’s show and trying to test a new way of building D&D towns, I decided I needed to bulls$&% for 5,000 words about the concept of exploration.
It’s that time again. Time for me to phone it in by answering reader questions. This month, I’m talking about advancement systems, hidden mechanics, and not talking about World of Darkness.
A long time ago, I tried to write a blog post about how to run good mysteries in D&D. But then, I got distracted and became The Angry GM. Ten years later, D&D has become even worse for running mysteries and I need to fix it to finish my latest project. But this isn’t about mysteries. It’s about using proficiencies right in 5E.
Once upon a time, D&D allowed players to lead fellowships, attract merry men, and even just hire some temps from the Henchman’s Local #246. I miss those days and I’ve brought them back.