Lately, I've been thinking a bit about the so-called "values" of OSR adventure design and the things reviewers tend to focus on. The most commonly cited factors are usability, formatting, and the author's ability to concisely express their ideas. But tone is often glossed over, and adventures that don’t comply with the “old-school aesthetic” often are disregarded for it. Today, I’d like to make the case for novelty achieved through humor.
Is it more NSR than OSR to value fun over realism? Definition aside, can’t all games benefit from humor? Is it the job of the GM to bring that to an adventure, or should it be baked into the design? Does levity remove the feeling of repercussions for one’s actions, or does it lessen the blow? These are the questions I have been asking myself.
That said, 90% of the adventures I read meet the objective of being impressively creative; it's almost impossible not to be, given the subject matter at hand, like magic and monsters. But all too often, it feels like adventures skew toward seriousness in an effort to be taken seriously. Is it imposter syndrome, a misguided fear of playfulness, or criticism that keeps designers from bringing whimsy into their products? Or is it the opinion that serious role play requires serious subject matter? Personally, I play RPGs to avoid the seriousness of everyday life. When I think about the sessions that are the most memorable for me, it's always the stupid, zany stuff that sticks with me. It’s the NPC with the pun for a name, or the giant monster that is 90% Elmo and 10% dragon. It’s the wild stuff that I would never expect, because who in their right mind would think that way?
Illustration for the MTG card "Apathy" by Phil Foglio
One of the main reasons I have fallen in love with DCC is because of the weird and wild audience Goodman Games has fostered. Their embrace of the Gonzo (define it however you like) means there is always something new, comedic, and memorable in their adventures, even when delicately handling classic IP like Lahnkmar. That’s not to imply that Goodman is alone in this pursuit. To a lesser extent, there is a pocket of the OSR scene that agrees with me, Brad Kerr, JP Coovert, Jason Sholtis, and Liam Pádraig Ó Cuilleanáin (shout out to Doug the Bounty Hunter, the most memorable NPC to ever grace my campaign) are all authors who manage to expertly design adventures created for serious play with heavy doses of humor layered on top.
But listing off designers I admire isn’t the goal of this piece. Instead, I wish to compel you, the budding adventure designer, to add humor and whimsy to your work. So I present to you three reasons why humor is a powerful tool.
Reason 1: It’s differentiating.
How many times have you read a description of an adventure where doom lurks in the shadows and only the PCs can save the world from it? Yes, danger compels adventure, but so can humor and revelry. Far fewer promise laughs or a venture into the truly absurd. The Painted Wastelands has been seared into the back of my mind from the moment I peered through its pages. The acidic colors and whimsical characters immediately stand out from 90% of the adventures I have read in the past 5 years.
Reason 2: It's a powerful tool, especially in dark and gritty games.
Mork Borg and, to a larger extent, Cy_borg taught me a lot about grimdark gaming. One of the most common refrains I hear when talking about Cyberpunk settings is how depressing they are, or how it doesn’t seem fun to roleplay such a bleak existence. Cy_Borg is a beautiful counterpoint to this viewpoint; its setting is as absurd as it is oppressive. The contrast inspired me to make my own appendix N for the game, which was heavily influenced by the works of John Carpenter and Paul Verhoeven, who find humor in the unrelenting drive of late-stage capitalism.
Their work demonstrates the power of humor, cynicism, and parody to make the oppressive engaging. It provides contrast to the weight of worlds where danger and opportunists lurk around every corner. It serves as a contrast to everyday evil, allowing the truly dark and dangerous a chance to shine.
Reason 3: It aids immersion.
I know many GMs, in the contemporary style of play, aim to have their players hang on their every word as they raise the tension. Personally, I envision a table where the players are trapped in laughter and can’t help but feel compelled to add in. It’s usually these moments that I remember because they often break the gamesmanship of the hobby. Why do the thing you know would be mechanically more advantageous when a far more humorous outcome is possible? Too often, this style of play is disregarded as “beer and pretzels” gaming, implying that the players aren’t invested. Personally, I think that take is diminutive. We play games to have fun, how can doing so be lesser in any way? Time spent around the table laughing with friends is why I do this hobby, and I’ve never checked my phone for updates when I’m busy having a good time.
So, make of my argument what you will, but you’re going to find weird little scenarios and kitschy characters in my adventures. Because when I set out to design an adventure, my first goal is fun. I also refuse to believe that something needs to be serious to be taken seriously.
