A small but vicious little kit landed in my bucket this week: a Shadowdark RPG adventure headed for Kickstarter in the near future called Demidirge: Fanged Funnel.
At first, I hesitated to do a preview. Normally, if I’m going to write about an adventure, I want to run it first, spill some blood, break a few characters, listen to players argue about marching order. But then I remembered: I’ve been a DM for so long that I can smell a good dungeon from a cold read. Also, this is a preview, not a review, so nobody needs to clutch their pearls. I think I’m on solid ground here.
What really hooked me wasn’t the premise, the stats, or even the promise of grisly player death (though those are all respectable selling points). It was the art.
Classic black and white ink art has an uncanny charm and ability to inspire, love it.
Now, I’m no art connoisseur, but I read a lot of adventures and RPG material, mostly scavenging for ideas to steal for my own tables. And these days? A lot of RPG art blurs together. It’s competent. It’s polished. It also often looks suspiciously like it was generated by a machine that’s never rolled a saving throw in its life.
Demidirge, however, is something else entirely.
This is unmistakably original, hand-drawn ink art in that grimy, old-school style, raw, evocative, and absolutely smashing. It’s the kind of art that doesn’t just decorate the page; it dares you to run the adventure. And honestly, this is one of the things the OSR does right. There’s a genuine love of illustration here, a reverence for the weird, the nightmarish, and the slightly unhinged, something that’s increasingly rare in the broader modern RPG space (and yes, I say that as someone perfectly comfortable using AI art myself).
The art in Demidirge is the sort of stuff that crawls into your brain and starts whispering encounter ideas. It’s moody. It’s grotesque. It’s inspiring. Old-school gamers are going to eat this up.
And here’s the thing: great art makes you want to read the adventure. That’s exactly how this module got its hooks into me. You’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but when you see this cover, you’re absolutely going to crack it open and see what horrors are waiting inside.
The Adventure
There are three things you need to know about this adventure, but fair warning, as always: if you’re a player, stop reading now. Seriously. This is a funnel. Knowledge is a liability. Spoilers ahead.
First, this adventure is written for Shadowdark, the current darling of the OSR scene. That said, like most good old-school modules, the bones are system-agnostic. You could run this with just about any OSR ruleset without breaking a sweat. That said, Demidirge is very deliberately tuned for Shadowdark and even includes a bespoke zero-level character creation framework designed specifically for this nightmare. You’re not playing “peasants who happen to be here”, you’re playing tunnelers, and that distinction matters mechanically and thematically.
Shadowdarks success as an RPG is uncanny; it’s spoken about in circles that stretch well beyond the OSR, at this point its practically mainstream. One day soon, I predict the OSR is going to give Wizards of the Coast a run for their money. It’s growing by leaps and bounds.
Which leads neatly into the second thing: this is a funnel, and it wears that badge proudly.
If you’re not familiar with funnels, here’s the short version: instead of lovingly crafting a single hero, each player controls a small crowd of level 0 nobodies. These unfortunate souls are fed into a lethal gauntlet with the full expectation that most of them will die screaming, dissolving, or being recycled into something worse. The lucky few who survive crawl out the other side as first-level adventurers, scarred, changed, and usually carrying some deeply troubling memories.
I’ve always loved funnels (Dungeon Crawl Classics remains my personal poison of choice), because they’re one of the best onboarding tools tabletop RPGs have ever produced. Minimal rules. Immediate stakes. Constant laughs punctuated by sudden, shocking death. They’re perfect for non-gamers, party games, or just reminding veteran players that life is cheap and heroism is earned. Demidirge understands this completely and leans into it hard.
Now for the third element, the one that really elevates this adventure from “cool funnel” to “oh hell yes, I need to run this.”
The entire funnel takes place inside a shared nightmare.
One of the sort of quirks of classic funnels is that you have very little to work with; you are not going to find the answer on your character sheet. Survival requires clever players. Still, the players are given some tools in this adventure that may very well prove useful.
The characters believe they are workers in a vast subterranean mining complex known as the Malic Mindshaft, a living, bureaucratic hellscape of quotas, rival labor crews, holy management cults, and acid-filled tunnels. In reality, they are prisoners trapped inside the mind of an inhuman entity called The Hermit Queen. Their physical bodies hang elsewhere in the real world, sealed inside organic coffins, while their consciousnesses are forced to dig ever deeper toward something called the Sunless Horizon. The queen’s nest of sorts from which she is attempting to escape, and the players are inadvertently helping her to do so by digging her out.
Their real objective, though they won’t realize it at first, is to notice that something is wrong. To pick up on anomalies. To question the reality of the tunnels. To recognize that the rules of the world don’t behave quite right. Only by collectively triggering enough psychic “cracks” in the illusion can they awaken… at which point the nightmare ends in spectacular fashion and the survivors emerge into the real world as first-level characters.
This setup is brilliant for two reasons.
First, it gives the GM enormous freedom. This is a dream. A hostile one. Reality can glitch, contradict itself, loop, or outright lie. NPCs can behave inconsistently. Dead crews can reappear. Shadows can move wrong. You are encouraged to mess with player expectations, and the module provides a long list of concrete tools, events, rival crews, nightmare phenomena, and outright body horror, to do exactly that.
Second, and this is the real GM gold, Demidirge is setting-agnostic by design. Because the adventure ends with the characters waking up somewhere in the real world, it can slot cleanly into any campaign setting. You don’t need lore buy-in. You don’t need a starting town. You don’t even need to explain where the characters are from. They wake up, alive, confused, and hunted, and now your campaign begins.
For me personally, that makes this an ideal opening adventure. I’ve been planning to kick off a Dolmenwood campaign and have been wrestling with how to start it in a way that feels strange, unsettling, and memorable. Demidirge: Fanged Funnel solves that problem completely. Drop the players into the nightmare, let them claw their way out, and then unleash them into the woods with no safety net and a head full of questions.
That’s a hell of a session one.
Conclusion
I’ve been intentionally vague about the finer details of this adventure, and that’s very much by design. The two questions people usually want answered are “What is this adventure about?” and “How do I actually use this in my game?” I hope I’ve given enough context to answer both, without robbing anyone of the joy (or horror) of reading it for themselves. And yes, that includes DMs. This is very much an adventure best experienced fresh.
What Demidirge: Fanged Funnel offers is that classic OSR, “trust the referee” style of adventure design. You’re given strong impressions, clear themes, and a well-organized structure, tables, factions, events, and evocative bite-sized descriptions, rather than pages of boxed text and rigid scripting. The module assumes you know how to run a game, and more importantly, that you want to. It’s fast to read, easy to internalize, and leaves the real magic where it belongs: at the table.
That’s one of the OSR’s greatest strengths. Instead of overwhelming you with lore dumps and hyper-specific contingencies that immediately fall apart once the first sword is drawn, this adventure gives you the tools and trusts your instincts. Once play begins, the dungeon breathes, reacts, and mutates based on player choices rather than a prewritten flowchart.
There are key elements that matter, of course. The slow discovery that the characters are trapped inside a nightmare is central to the experience, as are the unsettling monsters and factions that inhabit it. The adventure is carefully seeded with obstacles that double as clues: rival tunnel crews, bureaucratic cruelty, ritualized labor, and nightmarish events that don’t quite add up. Everything subtly pushes the players to dig deeper, literally and figuratively, while quietly hinting that something is very, very wrong.
Mystery is notoriously difficult to pull off in tabletop RPGs. Players are clever, suspicious, and prone to setting things on fire just to see what happens. But here, I think the author genuinely succeeds. The truth is neither obvious nor handed to the players, and I fully expect many groups won’t survive long enough to unravel it at all. This is a funnel, after all. Death is cheap. Insight is not.
Players will need to bring their A-game, and probably a few spare character sheets, if they want to make it to the other side.
In short: this is a great story, thoughtfully constructed, beautifully illustrated, and deeply engaging. It’s weird, cruel, and imaginative in all the right old-school ways. If you’re looking for a funnel that does more than just kill characters, one that leaves survivors changed, this is absolutely worth picking up.
UPDATE: A New Manual for Syncanite Foundation can be found here.
This afternoon, my mailbox delivered a rather pleasant surprise: a review copy of Syncanite Foundation. A new boardgame of cutthroat political conspiracy that was kick-started last year.
Now, to be clear, the surprise wasn’t that the game arrived. I was fully aware it was on its way, having worked with the marketing team handling review copies. The real surprise hit the moment I laid eyes on the box. Before a single component was revealed, Syncanite Foundation was already speaking my language and making a strong first impression with its awesome sci-fi fantasy vibe.
I’m a relatively small-time reviewer, with only occasional appearances in some real journalism, thanks largely to a few connections I have to the game industry by sheer accident. The result of that in the last 10 years has been a loyal audience and a steady group of regular readers, but most publishers I work with that send me review copies tend to be fairly niche affairs. Interesting, often clever, but clearly operating within a smaller production scope. This, however, felt a bit different even though Syncanite Games is indeed a very indie operation. The box alone radiated confidence: polished, striking, and unmistakably professional. This didn’t just feel like a passion project punching above its weight; it was more like a heavyweight newcomer stepping into the ring for the first time. A new kid on the block, sure, but in the immortal words of Micky Goldmil, “You ain’t no bum, you ain’t no chump.”
As I cracked open the box, it became immediately clear that this was a game made with serious intent. There’s a level of care, cohesion, and sheer love in the presentation that demands to be met halfway. This wasn’t something I could casually glance over. If the game was going to put in this much effort, the least I could do was put on my reviewer hat properly and reciprocate.
So, with expectations officially raised and curiosity fully engaged, let’s get into it. This is going to be a two-part article review. First, we will do a sort of first impressions and unboxing, where I will simply look, read, and explore the game, that’s today. The second article will be a full review I will put together after a few play sessions with my local gaming group.
Overview
Cracking open the box, I did what I almost always do first: I reached for the rulebook. Not out of habit alone, but because I genuinely had no idea what Syncanite Foundation actually was. This isn’t a game riding on the coattails of a well-known franchise, yet from the moment you lift the lid, it’s obvious that this thing wants to be more than just cardboard and plastic. There is magic here. My instincts, as it turns out, were right on the money.
Pretty is an understatement; Syncanite Foundation laid out on the table is art.
The artwork immediately suggests a strange crossroads between science fiction and fantasy. At first glance, I caught faint echoes of Final Fantasy in the aesthetic, ornate, confident, and unapologetically dramatic. That impression lasted about five minutes. Once you start reading, it becomes very clear that this isn’t borrowing a skin from somewhere else. Whatever this is, it’s very much its own beast, an original work perhaps inspired by but not photocopied from other sources.
The introduction reads less like a rulebook and more like the opening chapter of a novel. The prose flows, sets a tone, and gently reminds you that you’re stepping into a fully realized world rather than learning how to push cubes around a board. It’s here that the curtain lifts: Syncanite Foundation is set in The World of Arkanite, a setting originally created as a novel and now being expanded into something far more ambitious, all by the confident hand of a designer with a plan. From the looks of it, this isn’t just a board game release; it’s a deliberate attempt to build a larger media universe. With a polished website, extensive lore, and clear narrative intent, this feels like a foundation stone rather than a one-off project. A respectful nod to the designer here: this is how you do worldbuilding.
One of my favorite things that publishers do is to create lore for a board game and give it proper treatment. Twilight Imperium’s Guide To The Imperium is a fantastic example.
I’ll admit, I’m an easy mark for games with a strong narrative backbone. I want my mechanics supported by meaning, my components backed by context. Syncanite Foundation wastes no time delivering exactly that. When I sit down to teach this game, we will be starting with story time, and that is going to resonate with my gaming crew, who are all avid role-players.
So what is this world about?
Without claiming deep knowledge just yet, it’s hard not to see familiar inspirations bubbling beneath the surface. There’s more than a hint of Dune in the way power revolves around a single, world-shaping resource. Touches of Game of Thrones appear in the ruthless political maneuvering, while the shadowy, authoritarian edge made me briefly wonder if a bit of Judge Dredd snuck in through the back door. At its core, this is a game about oligarchs, powerful figures who never sit on thrones, but who quietly decide who does. They pull strings, shape conflicts, and bend the world to their will… all while competing with each other for supremacy.
That competition centers around Syncanite itself: a miraculous, dangerous crystal that fuels industry, progress, and influence. Like the spice of Dune, Syncanite is less about what it is and more about what it represents. Control it, and you control the future. But, and this is important, it’s not the endgame. It’s simply the spark that lights the powder keg.
A steam entry for Syncanite Foundation can be found for a digital version of the game in the works, which speaks to the ambitions of its designers.
All of this lays the groundwork for what feels like a genuinely strong narrative-driven strategy game. Interestingly, while it shares no real mechanical DNA with Twilight Imperium, it gave me a similar vibe. Not in scope, mechanics or length, but in philosophy. War doesn’t seem to be the point here. Conflict is a tool, not a goal. The real game is intention: reading the table, manipulating perceptions, making promises you don’t intend to keep, and choosing the exact right moment to make your final move. This is supported by the core win objectives in the game, there are no victory points or progression-based conditions, it’s a winner-takes-all game, and anyone can win at any time by meeting one of the game’s politically fueled objectives.
Victory conditions are tied to one of five events that trigger under certain board game states. These events alter the rules of the game and can exist simultaneously. This speaks to the potential dynamics of the game and player impact. I love the concept.
Even from a first read-through of the rules, it’s obvious that Syncanite Foundation is going to live and die by table talk. Accusations, alliances, bluffs, quiet deals, and that inevitable moment where someone leans back and says, “Fine. Let’s do this.” All promises between the nuance of rules and the intended playstyle of the game.
All told, this feels like exceptionally solid footing for something special. Expectations are set, curiosity is high, and I am more than ready to get this one to the table.
The Components
Board gaming in the 21st century, especially anything with a Kickstarter pedigree, immediately triggers a small internal alarm for me. Years of experience have conditioned me to be cautious. I’ll say this plainly: I would rather play an ugly-as-sin cube pusher with brilliant design than an overproduced, miniature-stuffed spectacle that mistakes excess for depth. I’m a gamer first. Eye candy is a very distant second.
That said… reality has a way of complicating principles.
If you glance at my collection, you’ll find more than a few games that are undeniably gorgeous. Because the truth is, I don’t want to choose. I want both. I want a sharp design and visual presence. And if I’m being completely honest, even excellent games that are hard on the eyes tend to get passed over when it’s time to decide what hits the table. A game can be good, but if it looks like homework, it’s fighting an uphill battle.
All of which brings us to Syncanite Foundation, a game that wastes absolutely no time announcing itself as a looker.
Whoever oversaw the art direction, component choices, and final production had a clear, confident vision, and more importantly, an understanding of what modern board gamers expect visually. Every decision here feels deliberate. One can only hope (and I genuinely do) that this level of care extends just as deeply into the gameplay.
Because make no mistake: this is a stunning production. Not “nice.” Not “solid.” Stunning. This game is, quite frankly, a work of art.
Component quality is excellent across the board. Cards, tokens, and the main board all feel premium and durable, clearly built to survive repeated plays rather than a single unboxing glow. That said, this level of quality is increasingly the baseline expectation these days. Cutting corners on materials is no longer acceptable, so I’d frame this less as exceeding expectations and more as confidently meeting them.
One thing I always look for in any board game is the ability to assess the game state with a quick glance. The way markets are handled with cubes and a little tray makes looking up prices of goods quick and easy. Simple and straight to the point.
Where Syncanite Foundation truly flexes is in its artistic ambition.
The main board features richly detailed, geographically inspired digital artwork that is nothing short of gorgeous. Despite the visual density, clarity never suffers. Lines are crisp, iconography is readable, and information is presented cleanly, exactly what you want in a game that expects players to stare at the board for hours.
The tokens follow suit. Each is visually distinct, satisfyingly weighty, and just tactile enough to invite idle fiddling. They come surprisingly close to that coveted “poker chip” feel, the universal gold standard of board game tactility.
But the real showstopper here is the cards.
The artwork, line work, and layout are lavish to the point of indulgence. These aren’t just functional components; they’re miniature paintings. Each card feels like it deserves a pause, a moment to be appreciated before being put to work.
The cards are beautiful, there is no doubt, but the black cards with glossy, foil text make reading them very painful. Fortunatetly only select cards are done in this foil style, but as a whole, the legibility of cards is a pain. Its a real shame.
One problem this game will always have is that even with glasses, I struggle to comfortably read the cards, a terrible sin and flaw that undoes some of that extraordinary artistic effort. The choice of white text on a black background, while undeniably stylish and maybe even thematically appropriate, is a nightmare. Add to it that some cards are black with gold foil writing, and you’re quite literally pulling out a magnifying glass to read some of the cards. It’s a bit of a tragedy.
The Rules & Rulebook
The original rulebook that came with the game was a bit of a mess, but an updated rulebook was released (v 3.2) as of this writing that attempts to address the issues of the original.
As it stands, the rulebook included in the box does not actually teach you how to play Syncanite Foundation. Nor does it provide functional setup instructions. What it does offer is a high-level overview of the game’s ideas and intentions, almost as if it assumes the existence of a second, missing document that handles the practical business of actually getting the game to the table.
That overview, despite lacking instruction, is genuinely well written, the manual laid out well, and worth a read as a preview to the digital document available online (here).
A manual with a nice presentation that sets the tone, gives a good overview of a game, and sets the stage for an exciting tabletop experience is absolutely critical to the success of a game, in my opinion. I see it as something extra that should come in addition to a rules reference. Some companies have normalized this, and I would love to see more of it.
It’s evocative, inspiring, and a pleasure to read. It successfully communicates tone, ambition, and theme, and it left me excited to play. Unfortunately, when you reach the final page, that excitement gives way to confusion. You’re left wondering if a rules reference accidentally fell out of the box. As a teaching document, it’s simply insufficient. You cannot set up or play the game using this book alone. Fortunatetly the, the updated digital rulebook is the answer; it brings the game into alignment with the ambitions laid out in the one that comes in the box and gives you the needed instructions.
At its core, Syncanite Foundation appears to operate across a series of structured phases where players claim territory, gather resources, and leverage those resources to advance long-term agendas tied to distinct victory conditions. Much of this is done by manipulating the board state through influence cards and effects.
Where the game truly seems to come alive, however, is in its free-form political layer.
Negotiation, table talk, and outright manipulation aren’t just encouraged, they’re assumed. Influence cards can be played at almost any time, regardless of turn order. You can interrupt, retaliate, or derail plans mid-conversation. There’s something delightfully unhinged about the idea that someone can cut you off mid-sentence with a card that completely alters the situation. Conceptually, I love this. It carries a strong role-playing energy and leans hard into player-driven narrative.
You can see that clarity of writing is not Syncanites Foundations strength. Even in the game material like the Cycle Chronicle Guide, English and German are commonly mixed up, with elements not translated properly. In reality, this is not a big deal, but it illustrates a rush to release, rather than to perfect.
It also firmly places the game in what I’d call the “mean” category.
This is not a gentle experience. If the rules deliver on their promise, Syncanite Foundation will sit comfortably alongside games like Diplomacy or Game of Thrones: The Board Game, where betrayal isn’t a possibility; it’s a requirement. Ruthless play isn’t antisocial here; it’s the engine that drives the game.
For my group, that’s pure gold. We enjoy confrontational designs with sharp edges and “take that” mechanics, provided everyone at the table understands the social contract: this is a game, not a personality test. But years of gaming have also taught me that not every group can handle that style of play. If you tend to take setbacks personally, or if direct player aggression sours the mood, this game may very well bounce off you, though it’s far too early to make any final judgments. We will see how this pans out when I do the final review after a few play-throughs.
Mechanically, though, I’m deeply intrigued.
While comparisons are inevitable, Syncanite Foundation ultimately feels like a bit of a white elephant design, something unusual, ambitious, and difficult to neatly categorize. In that sense, it reminds me strongly of the work of Vlaada Chvátil, particularly titles like Through the Ages, Galaxy Trucker, and Mage Knight. Games that are unapologetically themselves, full of bold ideas, and largely incomparable to anything else on the shelf.
That kind of ambition is exactly what excites me as a gamer.
Conclusion
Syncanite Foundation is, without question, a visual feast. It presents a bold, confident concept and carries with it an enormous amount of potential. I genuinely want this game to succeed, and I’m eager to get it to the table. But art and enthusiasm alone doesn’t make a game playable or good. I can be a tough critic when it comes to gameplays, especially if you get my hopes up and make no mistakes, you’ve got me excited, Syncanite Foundation, the pressure is on!
An extraordinary amount of effort has clearly gone into the presentation, the worldbuilding, and the physical production. All admirable and original efforts worthy of praise and attention. Now it’s time for the real test, the mechanics and gameplay, to see if the game delivers on its promise.
With an updated rulebook freshly printed out, a game session scheduled and an excited crew already hyped up from my depiction of the game, it’s time to play some Syncanite Foundation!
UPDATE: A New Manual for Syncanite Foundation can be found here.
For All Mankind, the Apple TV series, is without question one of my favorite shows of the last decade. It’s an alternative-history epic about what might have happened if the space race never ended, if humanity kept pushing, competing, and occasionally tripping its way across the solar system.
It has everything I love in a good story: speculative history, grounded sci-fi, drama, and just enough “this could almost happen” futurism to make you glance suspiciously at NASA’s latest press releases. But what I enjoy most is that it feels less like science fiction and more like future history, a glimpse into a world that could have been ours with just a few different turns of the wrench, without infusing it with the magic of made-up future tech that most science fiction relies on.
I love a good historically based what-if story, and For All Mankind hits those beats with perfection in my humble opinion. No question, one of the best shows in years.
So when the marketing team at Mongoose Publishing reached out and asked me to take a look at their upcoming RPG, The Pioneer, the very first thing that came to mind was, naturally, For All Mankind. One paragraph into the description, and I was already hearing the opening theme in my head.
Today, we’re going to take a peek into Mongoose Games’ latest Kickstarter: a rather unusual, yet deeply intriguing, near-future Earth RPG about humankind’s next great adventure, exploring our own solar system. If you’ve ever wanted a game that sits somewhere between hard sci-fi realism and “what if we just kept going?”, this might be exactly your trajectory.
Overview
The Pioneer is built on the classic Traveller system, which, for long-time sci-fi RPG fans, should trigger an immediate nod of recognition. Traveller is the granddaddy of science-fiction tabletop gaming, the venerable elder around the campfire telling stories about starships before most of us were even rolling dice.
But that pedigree isn’t the real selling point here.
I haven’t tried the modern Traveller, though I do have nostalgic memories of playing this one back in the Jolt Cola days. I regret nothing!
What makes The Pioneer interesting is the opening it offers for a story-first RPG focused on near-future exploration beyond just the “adventure gaming” elements. You’ll be heading out into the solar system, and yes, there’s some delightful technobabble sprinkled throughout (it is a sci-fi RPG, after all), but this isn’t just a game about rockets, trajectories, or micromanaging oxygen levels. It’s got this presence defined into the game, like a grand stage on which modern space exploration stories can unfold and it’s this part of the game that has me intrigued.
Your mission isn’t just “go do the space thing.” Instead, The Pioneer opens the door for character-driven drama you’d expect from a prestige TV series. Motivations will matter. Politics will matter. The planning, the pressure, the PR disasters waiting to happen, the game leaves room to weave these elements into the action parts of the narrative just as much as the EVA repair scenes. It’s a game where you will tell the whole story, including the behind-the-scenes footage usually reserved for the documentary crew. An exciting proposition for a guy like me who loves NASA stories that happen between the lines.
A 200-page hardcover means that this RPG doesn’t fall into the “Light” category as far as game systems go. Not surprisingly, as neither does Traveller, but it is a modern system, so I think we can probably expect a relatively approachable game system.
A great example in the preview is Rescue at Low Earth Orbit. On the surface, it’s a classic space-rescue scenario with plenty of “uh… Houston we we have a problem” moments. But underneath, there’s a deeper narrative thread open to explore, one with enough emotional and political gravity to anchor an entire campaign. I won’t spoil the potential twists, but let’s just say there’s more going on than simply “complete the mission.” It immediately grabbed my attention and, once again, made me think of For All Mankind in all the best ways.
The Kickstarter
The Pioneer is launching through Kickstarter, and I always feel obligated to sound the traditional warning horn when entering that particular sub-market. We’ve all heard more cautionary tales than success stories, Kickstarter can be a magical place, but it can also be where good intentions go to die.
That said, Mongoose Publishing is not some first-time, two-person garage operation trying to figure out where the print PDF button is. These folks are seasoned veterans with a long, reliable track record. If there’s a spectrum of Kickstarter risk, this one sits comfortably on the “you can relax” end of it. You can check out the Pioneer Kickstarter here!
The even better news, at least in my humble opinion, is that this Kickstarter has already blasted past its funding requirement, so The Pioneer is definitely happening. And not only that, the most exciting stretch goals have already been unlocked, giving the project a strong launch trajectory (pun fully intended).
Of course, one of the first things anyone wants to do in a near-future space RPG is stage a mission to Mars. Luckily, this Kickstarter has anticipated that very impulse. Ares Ascendant, a full-length campaign covering the entire mission from A to Z, is already included. So if you’ve ever wanted to make the Red Planet your problem, you’re in good hands.
I think this book is the key to the game. Most people, I think are willing to try alternative RPG experiences to the standard stuff like D&D, but creating a campaign for a game like this, I think, would be tough, so releasing it with a solid campaign like a mission to Mars was a very smart move, it’s exactly what this game needs.
Is this a good game?
One question people love to throw at me, as if I’m shuffling tarot cards behind the scenes, is: “Will this be a good game?” And as always, I have the same answer when it comes to RPGs.
RPGs are good games because they’re not really games. They’re experiences. An RPG is only ever as good as the group you sit down with. That is the secret truth of the hobby. So the real question with The Pioneer isn’t “Is it good?” but rather: Does its subject matter excite you and the people you play with? Because if it does, the rest tends to take care of itself.
My advice to all role-players, especially those who’ve spent their entire hobby life inside the comfortable walls of Dungeons & Dragons, is simple: explore. For gods’ sake, explore other RPGs. There’s an entire universe of creativity out there. Designers are pouring their imagination, innovation, and occasionally their sanity into projects like this. And I can say with near certainty: if the theme speaks to you, you will find something to love in the game, whatever it is.
So go out there, support your community, and give games like The Pioneer a chance. This is a wonderful project, and absolutely one worth investing in.
As a general rule, I don’t touch Kickstarters with a ten-foot wizard’s staff. Too often, they feel less like scrappy dream-fueled projects and more like corporate “fund me” jars rattling for coins, a kind of alchemy I find, frankly, a bit of hogwash. If you’ve got the treasure hoard to make a game, then by the gods of dice and destiny, make it, release it, and I’ll happily toss my gold pieces into your coffers for a completed product. Misuse of the platform is as common as goblins in a mushroom glade, it irritates me to no end.
But every so often, a true conjurer of words and worlds appears, someone who uses Kickstarter exactly as it was meant to be: as a lantern-lit path for dreamers without publishers, great houses, or corporate dragons backing them. These are the brave creators weaving wonders with nothing but ink, imagination, and maybe a touch of faerie dust.
Dolmenwood is one such marvel, sprung from the mind of Gavin Norman of Necrotic Gnome. For a few years now, Gavin has been quietly brewing some of the most curious, creative, and downright enchanting projects in the roleplaying sphere. These are the kinds of things that would never survive the soulless glare of a big publisher’s boardroom, too niche, too strange, too delightfully weird. Exactly the sort of creations adventurers like me crave.
From the spellbinding Old School Essentials (a meticulous, love-drenched re-edit of Basic/Expert Dungeons & Dragons) to a treasure trove of smaller adventures, the cheeky and delightful Carcass Crawler zine, and now an entirely new game built around his own fairy-tale fever dream: Dolmenwood.
I have talked a lot on this blog about Old School Essentials. I ran a 3 year campaign using the system and it performed beautifully. It made me a fan of Gavin Norman. He makes a lot of good stuff.
I’ve been waiting for this one. Patiently, well, mostly, for nearly two years, ever since I pledged back in September 2023. And now, at long last, the package has arrived on my doorstep like a mysterious parcel left by a mossy-footed pooka. To say I’m buzzing would be an understatement. I tore into it with the giddy energy of a halfling spotting second breakfast.
One of the many charms of this whole journey is that Gavin has been an absolute wizard of communication, keeping us updated since day one with missives, sneak peeks, and development notes that felt like dispatches from the enchanted woods themselves. He gave us that personal touch, so even before my box of goodies arrived, I already felt like I’d been walking alongside the project every step of the way. I had been watching the trailer for two years, now I finally got to see the full production.
Today, we’re diving headlong into Dolmenwood. I’ll tell you what’s in the box, we’ll explore the game and its myth-soaked setting, and, most importantly, we’ll discuss who this game is for. So grab a cup of something hot and spiced, lean back in your favorite chair by the hearth, and settle in, because this is going to be a BIG article.
What is Dolmenwood About?
The very first question my friends asked, before I’d even cracked open the box, was: “Okay, but what exactly is Dolmenwood?” A fair place to start, I think, though a simple question this is not.
The best way to answer is to split Dolmenwood into two halves: first, how it works as a game system, and second, what it is as a fantasy world and story engine.
Dolmenwood as a Game
At its heart, Dolmenwood feels like a curious blend of two schools of design. On one side, it clearly draws heavily from Old School Essentials (OSE), Gavin Norman’s brilliant revival of 1980s Basic/Expert Dungeons & Dragons. On the other, it borrows the best lessons of modern narrative-first RPGs, which put storytelling, character invention, and immersion ahead of crunchy rules.
Now, that might sound like oil and water to some. After all, when many people hear “1st edition D&D,” they picture a rules labyrinth: THAC0 charts, descending AC, bizarre subsystems, and the heavy hand of the dice. Dolmenwood is not that. It doesn’t replicate old-school rules, it reimagines old-school concepts, polishing them into something that feels sleek and accessible to modern tables, but secretly, yes its old school rules. Confused?
To old dogs like me, this is just my adolescent stomping grounds, but I’m not blind to the fact that you have to really be glutton for punishment to still use systems that look like this today. There are better ways.
Ok so to be clear, there are no THAC0 charts, no wargame math, no headaches of deciphering unclear and unforgiving rules for which old school D&D is famous. For anyone coming from 5e, the rules will feel familiar and welcoming, even though for all intents and purposes, these are in fact old school rules. Imagine if a modern game designer, could travel back in time and advise Gygax on the fundamentals of rules writing and game design. Most of the decisions here are common sense for todays standards, but there is a clear focus on capturing the core concepts of these old school rules which (some of us old school guys) really do love. So its the good parts of these rules, without all the non-sense, which, when you get right down to it starts to look very much like a light, alternative, but modern version of D&D.
What Dolmenwood does carry forward from its old-school ancestry is the philosophy: this is not a game of superhero characters with endless feats and powers. It is low fantasy, low magic, high peril. A sword to the gut will probably kill you. You’re fragile mortals, not demigods, and that fragility is what makes your bravery meaningful. In Dolmenwood, you are heroes not because of your hit points, but because you willingly risk your tiny candle-flame lives in a world full of wolves, witches, and weirder things still.
Dolmenwood is not completely absolved of old school gaming shenanigan’s that deserve to stay dead and buried. For example, getting an XP bonus or penalty for having too low or too high prime ability score is just silly. There is some logic to it, but it dirties the waters in my opinion unnecessarily.
Of course as was the case in classic D&D, magic remains the great equalizer. Power often comes from what you find: a scroll, a wand, a ring, a talisman, the coveted equipment that often makes the difference between life with bags of holding full of treasure and horrifically tragic death at the end of a spear. Dolmenwood leans into that old-school rhythm where exploration and treasure-hunting matter to your prospects of survival and success. In fact, equipment is survival; resources are power, the story is about that glorious rise from a mere nobody to a powerful agent in the world.
Dolmenwood as a Story
Where Dolmenwood really unfurls its colors, though, is as a setting-first game. The rules exist, yes, but they feel more like a stagehand pulling ropes than the star of the show. Storytelling and atmosphere take center stage. In that sense, it leans closer to narrative-driven games like Vampire: The Masquerade or newer experiments like Daggerheart, where the drama lives in the back-and-forth between Game Master and players, rather then execution of rules.
This is why Dolmenwood’s books are so massive. The books are mainly tapestry of herbs, fungi, folklore, factions, fairies, pipeweed blends, oddball traditions, and richly described places. (Yes, there’s literally a two-page spread on different varieties of pipeleaf, and another on common fungi. You don’t need these details, but oh, how they make the world breathe.)
The game invites players not just to survive, but to inhabit. Characters don’t begin with a scripted epic or a railroad adventure paths. Instead, they’re handed a living sandbox, an open world alive with secrets, strange folk, and tangled politics.
At the start, you know almost nothing. You’re level 1 peasants with little more than a rusty sword, a pocketful of pipeweed and big dreams. The world is wide, mysterious, and dangerous, and you must carve your own path in it. The magic lies in how your choices, what goals you set, who you befriend, and which factions you side with slowly shape your story. The game doesn’t hand you a narrative; it hands you a place, filled with people with their own motivations and events brimming with fairy tales, and trusts you to grow a narrative out of it.
Dolmenwood is a stage ripe for theatre, something made clear from its evocative art and the writing style, even though theatre is not really traditionally an old school core ideology.
Over time, as you explore deeper, you begin to see the strings: the larger story of Dolmenwood itself. The factions, the plots, the creeping powers behind the veil. Small adventures tie into greater ones, and before you realize it, your once-humble would be adventurer is entangled in the grand weave of politics, prophecy, and faerie mischief.
And every inch of this playground is meticulously detailed. The campaign book runs a staggering 465 pages, stuffed with lore, locations, NPCs, and oddities. Every hollow, every hamlet, every mushroom ring feels like it has a story waiting to be uncovered, it feels that way because it is that way.
So yes, Dolmenwood is a game of rules. But more than that, it is a world, a moss-carpeted, fungus-studded, pipe-smoke-wreathed world, ripe for infinite exploration.
The Dolmenwood Setting
Let’s be clear: as a game system, Gavin Norman hasn’t reinvented the wheel. The “open world, make-your-own-adventure” style of play has been part of the D&D tradition for decades. But Dolmenwood tips its mossy cap to those old-school roots while polishing them for a modern audience, and I’m delighted to report that this approach is making a hearty comeback across the hobby.
Where Dolmenwood becomes something truly unique, where the real fairy-dust sparkles, is in its setting. This is no cookie-cutter fantasy world. In fact, I don’t think anything like it exists in today’s RPG landscape. It’s bold, strange, and deeply imaginative, so much so that it might even feel a little unsettling to players who are used to the safety blanket of Tolkien-inspired worlds.
Most fantasy settings lean heavily (sometimes lazily) on the Tolkien template: elves, dwarves, orcs, kingdoms, repeat. Dolmenwood gleefully shatters those expectations while still remaining recognizably “fantasy.” Its fairy-tale woods are bizarre, whimsical, and very dangerous. Nothing unfolds quite the way you expect, there are fewer recognizable fantasy troupes that players will connect with from other familiar settings. It’s geared towards real exploration, not the exploration of yet another alternative version The Forgotten Realms.
If I had to reach for an analogy, I’d say Dolmenwood is like a strange potion brewed from equal parts Harry Potter, Narnia, Legend and The Never Ending Story, with just enough Tolkien sprinkled in to keep it grounded. Fey folk, enchanted groves, and peculiar traditions abound, Gavin Norman delights in breaking expectations whenever possible.
The 1980’s classic Legend is a mostly forgotten film despite the fact that it was directed by Ridley Scott and stared a young Tom Cruise. It depicts a truly original fantasy world that departs from the Tolkien roots while still remaining oddly familiar as a fantasy world. It’s kind of the same effect Dolmenwood has when you read it.
Even at the character-creation stage, the game asks players to embrace the unusual. You can play a proud goat-headed Breggle, or a small, pipe-smoking Mossling, who feels like a halfling raised in a damp mushroom hollow. Sure, there are humans and elves, but they aren’t the focus. Dolmenwood itself is the wilderness, the edge of the map, the place where weirdness is the default.
The strangeness continues with classes. While you can still pick a Fighter or Cleric, you’ll also find uniquely Dolmenwood roles like the Enchanter, the wandering Friar, the cunning Hunter, and the noble Knight.
Magic, too, is peculiar and deeply rooted in folklore. While there are plenty of familiar things like the generic fireballs of high fantasy, spells draw on fairy glamour, rune-carved standing stones, ley lines, herbal concoctions, and fungi with names that sound like they were whispered by trickster spirits. It feels less like a spell list and more like a hedge witch’s grimoire.
But what elevates Dolmenwood above all else is the way the world itself is built. Nothing is random. Every ruined keep, every ancient shrine, every mossy mound is tied into the greater tapestry of Dolmenwood’s history. Stumble upon an abandoned tower in the woods, and you’ll eventually learn how it connects to the factions, politics, and hidden stories of the land. Nothing is throwaway. Nothing is meaningless. There is purpose and often you will not understand that purpose until later in your adventure, these locations become future lightbulbs for the players to connect in a larger story.
For players, this creates a delightful sense of discovery and self-importance, a logical puzzle where every new clue makes the world sharper and more comprehensible, known only to them. Knowledge that they can leverage in pursuit of their own success if they are clever.
For DMs, it’s a godsend: a pre-built web of places, people, and events that all interlock seamlessly. Players will feel clever as they connect the dots, while you’ll always have the tools to support their choices.
All of this is brought together in the Campaign Book, a masterpiece of editing and design. It combines event-driven encounters with location-based hex maps, giving you the freedom to run Dolmenwood as a true sandbox.
The one page layout approach of the campaign book is perfect for use at the table, you are a 2-3 minute read away from being able to run any area with plenty of flavor and direction, there is no need to read anything in advance even though you will not be able to help yourself.
What makes it brilliant is its clarity. You don’t need to read 100 pages ahead or memorize obscure lore. Every location is laid out in a simple, precise format: history, features, atmosphere, day/night differences, and the secrets that might be uncovered. No wasted words, no bloat, just clean, evocative notes that give the DM everything they need without scripting the events of an adventure.
Take The Craven Mounds, for example. In just a single page you’ll learn what the mounds look like, their unsettling history, the strange shrine hidden among them, the difference between visiting by day or by night, and which creatures prowl there. It’s enough to spark a full evening of play, while leaving room for you to weave it into the larger story. It’s connection to lay lines give it deeper meaning that might become important to the players later and then there is of course the real question, what are they for? The answer is not nothing and its this sort of intrigue that drives the Dolmenwood drama, a purpose in everything.
This structure repeats across the entire book: compact, flavorful descriptions that give you narrative cues and storytelling beats without ever tying your hands. The result is that your players can go anywhere, chase anything, and you’ll always be ready. It’s the kind of prep support most DMs dream about.
Dolmenwood is a sandbox done right: players get freedom, you get preparation, and the world itself does the heavy lifting.
What’s In The Box
While I don’t usually do kickstarters, if and when I decide to donate my hard-earned gold coins to a project, I don’t fuss about; I go all in for the full monty. I went for the limited edition loot box which includes pretty much everything except for a few of the “non-game” related items like T-shirts, buttons and stuff like that. It was a $200 dollar box and includes everything that is designed for the full Dolmenwood experience.
The Books
Let me say this right out of the gate: if you pick up these Dolmenwood books and are not utterly gobsmacked by their quality, then I’d like to meet the little green gremlins piloting your brain. The production values are jaw-dropping, perhaps the best I’ve ever seen in tabletop RPG publishing. The only comparable recent release is Daggerheart, and honestly, Dolmenwood still wins the duel, particularly when it comes to editing and layout.
These books are a dream to reference. The language is clean, concise, and direct, no wading through two paragraphs of purple prose just to extract one useful rule. Everything you need is right where you expect it to be.
Gavin Norman has always had a sharp editorial hand, OSE already proved that, but here, he’s outdone himself. This feels like divine work, a new gold standard for RPG book design. From this point forward, anything less will feel like sloppy wizardry. Work like this makes Wizard of the Coast publications look like incompetent goblins are running the company.
The Player’s Book
One of the trickiest challenges in RPG design is convincing players to actually read beyond the rules. When a game has a unique setting, as Dolmenwood certainly does, the danger is that players learn just enough mechanics to roll dice and stop there, never really tasting the flavor of the world.
The Players Book is a very handy reference for pretty much everything you need to know about Dolmenwood as a game, but its a bit light on giving players story based direction in my humble opinion.
I think Gavin understood this problem. The Player’s Book takes a deliberate approach: keep it short, sharp, and reference-friendly, while leaving the bulk of the lore and storytelling muscle to the Campaign Book. On one level, it works brilliantly. This is a book you don’t need to read cover-to-cover. Instead, it’s a handy companion that breaks the game into digestible chunks, how to make a character, how adventuring and combat work, how the physical universe ticks along. As a quick-start guide to “what is this game, mechanically?” it’s flawless. Often players books that are filled with lore between the pages, create an issue when you actually just want to look up some rules at the table, you won’t find problems like that in this players book.
But here’s the rub: Dolmenwood isn’t a system-first game. Yes, the rules matter, but the beating heart of the experience is the setting. It’s the moss, the pipeweed, the grimalkin, the fey bargains, the eerie ruins waiting in the mist. And I worry the Player’s Book doesn’t give enough of that to the people who arguably need it most, the players themselves. They need the inspiration for character creation and the grounding for their plans because this is after all, a open world game where players are expected to seek out the adventure on their own. How can they be expected to do that if they don’t know much about the place where that adventure is to take place?
Sure, there are delightful sprinkles of flavor scattered throughout. The races and classes ooze personality. The languages, gear, food, and drink entries all sneak in playful, flavorful cultural details. And there’s a particularly excellent chapter called “The Adventure” that does a stellar job explaining what role-playing actually looks like in Dolmenwood, complete with examples that make the difference between “rolling dice” and “telling a story” crystal clear.
Still, I can’t help but wish for just one more chapter, a lore dump, a short but rich introduction that gives players a real sense of what Dolmenwood feels like to live in. There is a kind of two page layout of major factions and settlements as a reference but its just not enough.
This is because while mechanics get us rolling, it’s the setting that inspires us to play. We don’t pick between Alien and Star Trek Adventures because of their initiative systems, we pick them because one is about horror in the void and the other is about utopian space diplomacy. It’s the story behind the game that drives the whole thing.
And Dolmenwood, for all its mossy brilliance, deserves that same up-front love and it should be in the first chapter of the players book. It’s absence I think in particular with players like mine, will be a bit of a problem.
As it stands, the Player’s Book is beautifully illustrated, brilliantly organized, and a joy to use, but I’d argue it’s just shy of being the perfect guide for players. A little more lore, and it would be flawless.
The Campaign Book
Ah, the Campaign Book. This towering tome isn’t just a rulebook, it’s a storybook atlas of wonder, equal parts practical GM guide and enchanting fireside read. From the very first page, I was grinning like a mischievous faun. Gavin’s writing is clever, breezy, and endlessly readable, just enough flourish to make it fun, but never so much that you lose track of the game-ready details. It’s splendid, cover to cover.
This is the meat and potatoes of Dolmenwood, written in a style that makes this entire book a page turner you will want to read cover to cover.
Now that I’ve got the finished version in my hands, with all its lavish illustrations, it feels like a treasure pulled straight out of a mossy chest. The art captures the words perfectly: whimsical, eerie, and evocative all at once. The character portraits especially are so vivid you can practically hear their voices, quirks, and mannerisms leaping off the page.
At first glance, one might assume Dolmenwood’s open-world, West Marches–style design means there’s no central story, just a big faerie sandbox. But that’s a trick of the briars. Hidden among the hexes and hamlets is an overarching narrative, an honest-to-goodness tale threading its way through people, places, and events. I won’t spoil it here (the delights of discovery belong to the reader!), but trust me: it’s there, and it’s wonderfully easy for a GM to weave into play.
The ink art is absolutely amazing, crafted to depict the bizarre world of Dolmenwood with a nod to classic D&D that is unmistakable.
The settlements section alone deserves applause. Each one feels like its own mini-campaign in a bottle, bursting with unique cultures, strange laws, and peculiar inhabitants. There’s no generic “town” or “city” here, every settlement is a little gem of fairy-tale worldbuilding, more bizarre and enchanting than the last. Its like reading Harry Potters version of England, except you have a wide array of cities from all over the world to explore, each wildly different from the next. They’re richly described in the Campaign Book and beautifully backed up in the accompanying Maps Book.
And then there’s the heart of it: the hex-crawl. A full third of this 460+ page grimoire is devoted to detailed hex locations, and they are a masterclass in design. Each entry can be digested in a couple of minutes, giving you just enough to run the area with confidence, but always laced with hints and connections that pull you deeper. It’s impossible to flip through without “cheating” as a DM, sneaking ahead to peek at how people, places, and events intertwine. Those connections are exactly what players will discover in play, and they’re intoxicating. You’ll want to run Dolmenwood the moment you put the book down.
Of course, the Campaign Book also comes stocked with the GM essentials: magic items, curious equipment, random tables, charts, and all the toys you need to answer the question, “What if my players…?” Whether your party sets out to plunder dungeons, open a tavern hawking strange ales, or establish a kingdom in the mist, you’ll have what you need within a page flip. That’s the real magic of this book, it makes running Dolmenwood feel effortless.
In short: I absolutely love this book. Honestly, if Dolmenwood had shipped with only the Campaign Book, it still would have been worth the price of admission.
The Supporting Tools
Dolmenwood comes with its share of frivolous extras (see below), but the real treasures for a GM are the supporting tools, clever, practical, and brimming with utility.
The Monster Book
This volume is a delight. The illustrations are gorgeous, the entries lean hard into roleplay cues, and the mechanics always come with a twist or two. Many of these creatures aren’t meant to be generic foes but unique denizens of Dolmenwood, weird, singular beings with their own origins woven into the setting’s lore.
An fantasy RPG is incomplete without a monster book, but frankly I have so many of these you have to do something really special to make it worth are time. In my humble opinion, Gavin nailed it, you cannot run Dolmenwood without this book and maintain it’s unique character.
That’s the real trick here: every monster’s backstory matters. Their histories and methods of creation often double as clues for how clever players might deal with them.
One of my favorite touches is the chart of monster rumors, half true, half deliberately false. They’re perfect for seeding tavern gossip, confusing players, or foreshadowing a lurking horror in the woods. It’s playful and practical, like the rest of the books.
The thing about most monster books for me personally is that I find that they are usually generic replications of pretty standard fantasy monsters that I have seen scraped together based on everything that has come before in D&D. This book is unique to the setting and you could not run Dolmenwood without it. Its a must have to do this setting justice and t ensure its well executed.
The Maps Book
Think of this as a stack of enchanted lenses. Each map presents Dolmenwood filtered through a different lens: political boundaries, faction domains, herb and fungus distribution, shrine locations, ley lines, and more (no spoilers!).
This is without a doubt a luxury, not really something you need, but having a lot of material that is easy to reference allows you to answer wacky questions that might come up unexpectedly and that is a nice touch to making the world feel lived in for the players. I like it.
For a DM, it’s an absolute luxury. Need to know which lord rules the next region? Or which strange herb grows in that hex? Flip a page and it’s there. The book also includes full-page settlement illustrations, styled to reflect local culture. They’re mostly for flavor, but oh, what flavor. Pull one out mid-session, and your players instantly feel the character of the place.
It’s not a necessity by any stretch, but its cool and I can definitely see myself using it.
The GM Screen
I’ll be honest: I’m not usually a GM screen fan. It can feel like a wall between me and the table. But if ever there was a screen that earns its keep, this is it.
I don’t use DM screens generally, but so far as they go, this is a pretty useful one.
Printed on thick, sturdy board, it’s packed with genuinely useful reference material: combat reminders, weapon traits, faction names, settlement lists, and those regional pronunciations you’re bound to butcher under pressure.
Again, not a necessity, but sure, why not.
The Adventures
The box also comes with four stand-alone adventures tailored to Dolmenwood:
Winter’s Daughter
Emelda’s Song
The Fungus That Came to Blackswell
The Ruined Abbey of St. Clewyd
Each one can be prepped in about fifteen minutes and run on the fly, short, sharp, and clearly laid out so you’re never bogged down in text when you should be running the table.
They’re tied into Dolmenwood’s broader story web, but they also work independently as bite-sized campaigns. And while I haven’t run them yet, I backed Dolmenwood largely because of Gavin Norman’s adventures. His style is unpredictable, evocative, and brimming with creativity, exactly the kind of storytelling that surprises even veteran GMs.
Winter’s Daughter is probobly THE adventure that made me a fan of Gavin Normans creativity and led to me buying Dolmenwood.
More importantly it doesn’t overcook your prep. This isn’t a story laid out point by point, or just a bunch of location place descriptions, its more of an adventure guide that gives you the basics and you fill in the rest. Though it gives you enough so that you don’t have to plan or think about it in advance, you’ll be able to run these on the fly.
That’s the mark of a good adventure writer: giving you something you couldn’t have conjured up yourself. These adventures hit that mark. Brilliant work, full stop.
The Frivolous Fun Stuff
Beyond the core treasures of Dolmenwood, the box also comes sprinkled with a handful of whimsical oddities, frivolous, yes, but delightful all the same. Think of them as the shiny baubles and enchanted trinkets you might find tucked into a mossy hollow after a long woodland ramble.
First up: funny dice. Yes, Dolmenwood blesses you with a set of charming polyhedrals, your trusty click-clack friends, ready to be rolled in fury or folly. Then there’s a jaunty little Dolmenwood patch, perfect for sewing onto a bag, cloak, or perhaps the satchel you take into the woods when mushroom-picking. Add in access to a digital soundtrack (more on that in a moment), and, most surprisingly, a full set of miniatures.
I tend not to use miniatures in my RPG sessions, mainly because I want combat to be just an extension of role-playing rather than a “mini combat game” we play periodically when a fight breaks out. But I love collecting and painting miniatures so these are going to get some paint regardless, because they are pretty unique.
Now, as a longtime lover of pewter and plastic adventurers, I must say the minis were the most delightful surprise, mostly because I had completely forgotten they were included! These are single-mold game pieces already perched on bases, sturdy and practical. No, they’re not dripping with hyper-detailed resin flair, but they’re absolutely paintable, and more importantly, they embody Dolmenwood’s curious cast of races and classes. Goatfolk, moss dwarfs, grimalkin, and other odd denizens you won’t find in your average fantasy bestiary, they’re here in charming form, ready to stalk across your tabletop. For anyone who likes to use minis in play, these are a genuine boon.
The soundtracks, meanwhile, are a touch of magic I didn’t realize I needed. I adore setting the mood at the table with music, and Dolmenwood’s offerings are wonderfully distinctive. There’s a proper “music” soundtrack, full of strange rhythms that feel like a cross between old-school video game tunes and eerie X-Files-esque mystery. Then there are the atmospheric tracks, which I think are the real gems. These are subtle soundscapes, whispers of wind, the patter of rain, the creak of branches, the low murmur of something uncanny just beyond sight. Many are region-specific, perfectly tailored to accompany particular areas of the setting.
Together, they capture the peculiar, otherworldly vibe of Dolmenwood in a way that words alone can’t. You can practically smell the damp moss and hear the flap of a nightbird’s wings.
So yes, these extras may be the garnish rather than the feast, but they’re flavorful little morsels all the same. Cool stuff, and wholly in keeping with Dolmenwood’s knack for enchanting the senses.
Conclusion – Who Is Dolmenwood For?
I’d love to say Dolmenwood is for anyone who loves fantasy and role-playing games, but that would be too broad, and not entirely fair. This is a unique world and a very particular system, and not everyone will vibe with it.
If you grew up with old-school Dungeons & Dragons, particularly the stranger, more experimental settings of 1st and 2nd edition, Dolmenwood will feel like a nostalgic return to form. It has the same bold departure from Tolkien tropes that made worlds like Dark Sun and Planescape so compelling, while still carrying that classic sense of story-driven adventure that made D&D a phenomenon in the first place.
For modern audiences raised on 3rd, 4th, or especially 5th edition, the appeal is more complicated. The setting, whimsical, fairy-tale, tinged with Narnia, Harry Potter and Neverending Story, may hook you immediately. But mechanically, this is not a game of heroic power curves, feat chains, or endless character builds. Dolmenwood is not about gaming the system, it’s about dynamic narrative play. Growth is slower, victories are hard-won, and characters are fragile. If you try to play it like 5e, leaning on dice and mechanics to bail you out, you will die. Often. This is a game that rewards planning, cunning, and creativity over brute force.
And yet, this might be exactly what modern players are looking for. Many D&D players openly admit they find the modern rendition of the game too easy, too bloated with safety nets, too focused on “powers” rather than theatre. Dolmenwood offers a refreshing change of pace: a system that strips things back, trusts the players, and invites you to rediscover role-playing as a collaborative story first and foremost.
That’s why Dolmenwood matters. It’s not just a curiosity, it’s part of a broader movement in the hobby. Games like Blades in the Dark, Shadowdark, and Daggerheart, along with the OSR revival, are all pushing role-playing back toward dynamic player-driven experiences. Dolmenwood stands proudly in that lineage, and in many ways raises the bar for what a modern fantasy RPG can look like despite its nostalgic nod to classic D&D play.
Now I would personally argue if you really want to experience a modern RPG as a design, Daggerheart is just pure magic. But as a built in story, combined with clever writing and an amazing set for theatre, Dolmenwood is also a fantastic choice.
So yes, I recommend it. Wholeheartedly. Not because it will replace D&D at every table, but because it reminds us that fantasy role-playing can be stranger, braver, and more imaginative than the well-worn Tolkien mold. Dolmenwood is extraordinary, a design triumph, a storytelling feast, and a bold step in the right direction for the hobby.
The biggest headline in the world of nerdy tabletop gaming just dropped like a fireball: Critical Role, the internet’s most famous troupe of voice actors turned dice-slinging legends, has made their choice, and it’s a big one!
For the upcoming Season 4, Critical Role won’t be rolling with their own shiny new system, Daggerheart, a game that exploded in popularity the moment it hit the scene. Instead, they’re doubling down on the freshly released 2024 edition of Dungeons & Dragons (what many of us are calling “5.5e”).
While Critical Role is famous for its D&D campaigns on YouTube, they have done a hell of a lot more than that as a business. The Legend of Vox Machina, for example, is reminiscent of the classic D&D cartoon from the 80’s (albeit obviously a hell of a lot better) is just one among a slew of entertainment offerings that have spawned from their success.
So what does this seismic decision mean for the RPG community? Should we be surprised, or was this move written in the stars like a prophecy from a high-level divination spell? That’s what we’re unpacking today, from the perspective of someone who’s both a die-hard Daggerheart player and a lifelong D&D fan.
The Short And Sweet Of It
First, a little disclosure: while I have a ton of love for Critical Role and all the incredible things they’ve done for the tabletop RPG community, I’m not what you’d call a dedicated viewer. Honestly, watching other people play D&D just isn’t my jam. I understand the appeal, and I respect it, but personally? I’d rather be rolling the dice myself.
That being said, there’s no denying that what Critical Role chooses to put on their table carries massive weight for the entire hobby. When Matt Mercer and crew pick a system for their main campaign, it doesn’t just shape their story, it shapes our tables, too. Critical Role is one of the biggest gateways into role-playing games. Quite simply, the game they play often becomes the game everyone else wants to play.
For their first three epic campaigns, that game was Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, and while D&D was already sitting on the throne as the most popular RPG in the world, Critical Role cemented it there with adamantine chains. Their endorsement wasn’t just influential; it was defining.
So when Daggerheart, Critical Role’s very own homegrown RPG, burst onto the scene with massive fanfare, there was an inevitable question hanging in the air: would they abandon the dragon-shaped juggernaut of D&D and ride their shiny new creation into the next campaign?
Personally, I wasn’t all that shocked when the answer turned out to be no. D&D was always the obvious choice, and for one clear reason: it’s the most universal, recognizable system in the hobby. Add to that a perfect storm, the unprecedented success of Baldur’s Gate 3 (arguably the best PC game ever made), Stranger Things barreling toward its final season (and bringing D&D references back into the spotlight), and Wizards of the Coast launching the new 2024 ruleset (the cleanest, most polished version of the game to date). All roads pointed back to D&D. Why fight gravity?
Dungeons and Dragons 5th edition is successful in ways that one could never have imagined back in the 80’s when we were playing in cellars and lying about it at school. It’s gone mainstream, we can where T-shirts with the D&D logo and get nods of approval walking down the street. It’s awesome!
That said, I can’t overstate how much I adore Daggerheart. I’ve been playing in a campaign with my local crew since its release, and it’s quickly become one of my favorite RPG experiences of all time. Its narrative-first design, elegant mechanics, and streamlined resolutions make storytelling feel effortless. Every session feels like a spark of creativity, and the game has inspired me to role-play and write in ways I haven’t in years. Simply put: I’m in love with it.
But D&D holds a different kind of magic. It’s the comfort food of RPGs, the game that’s just fun at the table. I always keep a couple of 5e campaigns running on the side, usually dungeon-crawling, monster-slaying, treasure-hunting romps. They’re especially perfect for younger players or folks newer to the hobby, where the focus is more on rolling dice and less on heavy narrative.
For me, D&D and Daggerheart aren’t competitors; they’re tools in the same creative toolbox. Sometimes you need the universal accessibility and classic adventuring vibe of D&D. Other times, you want the narrative spark and fresh mechanics of Daggerheart. The beauty is in knowing which tool fits the story you want to tell.
What Does The Future Look Like?
There’s always a debate simmering around Wizards of the Coast and their crown jewel, Dungeons & Dragons. And honestly, I sometimes ask myself, why?
At the end of the day, D&D is a beloved game. With anything that popular, there will always be an “anti-crowd” ready to pick it apart. That’s just the price of being the industry leader.
Now, to be fair, I’ve had my own frustrations with D&D, but never with the game itself. My gripes have always been with the company behind it. Case in point: during the infamous OGL scandal (if you don’t know about it, give it a quick Google), I actually banned 5th edition content from my blog as a show of solidarity with fellow creators and players. That was a messy chapter, but it blew over quickly, and in the end, the actions of Wizards of the Coast don’t define what the game itself is.
Because the truth is, D&D is still everything it’s always been: a monster-slaying, dungeon-crawling, dice-chucking blast. Sure, I could argue all day about which edition I personally prefer (and I do on this blog all the time), but for modern enthusiasts, especially those who don’t carry the decades of history that older grognards like me do, the smart move is simply to play the latest edition. That means 5th edition, and with the 2024 update, it’s clear this version is here to stay.
It’s unlikely to ever reach the popularity of D&D, but there is no question in my mind as a 40-year veteran in the hobby that Daggerheart is one of the best RPG’s to be released since Dungeons and Dragons, second only to perhaps Vampire The Masquerade.
So what does the future hold for tabletop RPGs? Honestly… more of the same. D&D will continue to reign as the most popular, most widely used system on the planet. Wizards will keep releasing books, people will keep buying them (myself included), and creators like me will keep making content for them. The cycle isn’t changing anytime soon.
And Critical Role knows this. No matter how much success Daggerheart has (and yes, I absolutely love the system), it’s not a universal game. It’s niche. It caters beautifully to a specific type of table and a specific style of play, but it’s not the catch-all, mass-market juggernaut that D&D is. If Critical Role had shifted to Daggerheart for Season 4, they’d risk cutting their audience in half. There was no upside to that gamble.
So in the end, their decision simply cements what many of us already knew: in tabletop RPGs, it’s business as usual. And honestly? I’m more than okay with that.
