Pluvid

Tales from the Table

A blog about the stuff I make or do in TTRPGs

  • Learning Through Playtesting: Refining Naval Combat

    Learning Through Playtesting: Refining Naval Combat

    Developing naval combat rules for Sunken Stars has taught me a lot. One key insight from playtesting stood out clearly: naval combat often felt like a one-player game, leaving the rest of the players bored and waiting.

    Initially, my solution was to simplify the rules to speed things up, thinking quicker combat meant less downtime for the others. The original system was streamlined and looked like this:

    Opposed Sails Checks (3D6 + Sails): winner picks the engagement (Broadside, Boarding, Ramming, or Escape). Then a quick opposed roll determined damage.

    While it is fast, it lacks excitement and player involvement. Instead of feeling like high-stakes naval battles, these fights quickly become repetitive and mechanical, with just one player (usually the captain) making meaningful decisions.

    A Better Approach: Engaging Everyone

    Realizing speed wasn’t the real issue, I changed my approach. Instead of going simpler, I embraced adding details—careful and meaningful complexity that involved everyone at the table.

    The revised rules introduced Battle Stations, each offering distinct roles and choices for all players:

    • Helm (Wheelhouse): Maneuvering the ship strategically.
    • Gun Deck: Firing broadsides and special ammunition.
    • Forecastle: Leading boarding parties, dueling enemy officers, and grappling ships.

    To encourage teamwork and tension, both sides now secretly select their Battle Station each round and reveal simultaneously. One way to go about this is to have the GM picks theirs first so the players can confer once the GM is done.

    Secret Station Selection: Each side (the players & the GM) secretly pick their Battle Stations, then reveal them at the same time.

    Finding the Balance

    Balancing engaging mechanics with smooth play is tricky. Too much complexity can slow down the game, while too little leads to boredom. Figuring out synergies and having players discover them in game is a very rewarding process.

    Lessons from Playtesting

    Regular playtesting revealed key insights:

    • Keeping every player engaged is more important than rapid resolution.
    • Adding meaningful detail boosts immersion and enjoyment.

    Designing naval combat for Sunken Stars has reinforced how vital playtesting is. The updated rules may require more active player involvement, but the payoff in excitement and group participation has proven worth the effort.

  • Building a Character Generator for Sunken Stars

    Building a Character Generator for Sunken Stars

    Using Claude Code

    Background

    I’ve built character generators before. One for the Umerican Survival Guide (usg.pluvid.com), and another for an earlier version of Sunken Stars. This one follows the same structure—generate a full character sheet with one click, something fast and practical for testing, improvisation, or pickup play.

    This time I used Claude Code, a tool by Anthropic built for writing and interpreting structured code. The idea was simple: hand the model a few PDFs, ask it to build a generator, and refine from there.

    The Process

    The initial results weren’t good. Claude misunderstood key mechanics, muddled traits with backgrounds, and invented a few rules of its own. But the framework was there. With some back-and-forth—adjusting prompts, fixing data by hand, clarifying how the system fits together—the output slowly improved.

    Because Sunken Stars is modular, the logic was easy to isolate. Patrons, classes, backgrounds, regions—they all sit in clear lanes. Once those were defined, the generator began producing clean, usable characters.

    The result lives here:
    https://dump.pluvid.com/sunkengen

    It creates a complete character: stats, background, region, class, items, and a brief description. It still benefits from oversight—especially around edge cases—but it’s functional and quick.

    Cost

    Between formatting, testing, and refinements, the total compute cost landed somewhere between 30 and 50 euros. Not negligible, but not outrageous either.

    It’s worth noting that while the AI handles layout and logic well, it doesn’t understand tone or intent. Trait descriptions sometimes drift, mechanical balance needs verifying, and regional context can get flattened. The tool saves time, but doesn’t replace thoughtful design.

    Conclusion

    The generator works. It doesn’t cover everything, but it does enough. It makes character creation faster, lowers the barrier to entry for new players, and lays groundwork for future tools—NPC builders, encounter generators, maybe even a voyage planner.

    For now, this one does its job and that’s awesome.

  • Recording Chaos: Turning Discord Game Sessions Into Summaries

    Recording Chaos: Turning Discord Game Sessions Into Summaries

    There’s something oddly satisfying about capturing the chaos of a tabletop RPG session and turning it into something concrete. The idea started as an experiment: recording game sessions on Discord, transcribing them, and seeing what could be made of the results. While it’s slower and definitely less effective than writing a recap by hand, it’s all in good fun. The mistakes that come from the process often lead to moments of unexpected comedy—and, occasionally, new ideas.

    Below is an example of a session summary generated by AI:

    Tides of Chaos: A Session on the High Seas

    The salty breeze of the open sea did little to temper the bizarre antics aboard this peculiar vessel, a ramshackle crew cobbled together from questionable origins and even more questionable morality. At its helm—well, loosely speaking—was Egon, the hapless captain, a man whose leadership was as solid as driftwood. Around him, chaos reigned supreme.

    A Ship in Distress

    It began with a signal: a sinking merchant ship flailing flags in desperation. The crew, after much debate (and jokes at Egon’s expense), decided to investigate. As they approached, arguments over whether to assist or take advantage of the situation grew louder. “Why not board them and ‘recruit’ survivors?” one suggested. Another countered, “What if we just take the opium and leave them the fish?” This pragmatic-yet-morally-dubious suggestion summed up the crew’s ethos: efficiency with a side of chaos.

    A brutal boarding followed. The crew struggled with rolls, strategies, and their own incompetence. The result? Victory—at a cost. The crew’s morale took a hit, Egon’s authority continued to erode, and yet they secured opium, whale oil, and strange metal cargo. “Let’s just sell it before someone asks questions,” muttered Two Shark, the fishman with a penchant for climbing the rigging.

    The Surgeon’s Dark Art

    Among the survivors was an unlucky soul, plucked from the sinking wreckage and dragged aboard for interrogation. What followed could only be described as macabre: tongue-removal surgery performed in the most unsanitary conditions imaginable. Amid clouds of opium smoke and nervous laughter, the “patient” was sedated, his tongue removed, and the wounds cauterized with less precision than a drunk carpenter with a blowtorch. “See? He’s fine!” declared the makeshift doctor. No one looked convinced.

    Port of Shadows

    The ship limped into Najar, a town reeking of fish, salt, and ill repute. The slave market buzzed with activity, drawing wary glances from some crew members and eager calculations from others. “Couldn’t we just buy some slaves as crew?” one asked, half-joking. In the end, they sold their ill-gotten cargo, haggled over leather goods in the bazaar, and tried to blend in with the local criminal element.

    The captain (reluctantly) approved a luxurious guided tour of the city. Led by a suave guide named Nassim, the crew marveled at the sprawling university, historic forts, and bustling markets. Two Shark, ever the opportunist, eyed every shiny object with an appraisal for resale.

    Morale, Mayhem, and Moving On

    With supplies restocked and wallets heavier, the crew prepared to leave Najar behind. New recruits bolstered their ranks, including a pair of simian laborers who quickly became the subject of both practical jokes and existential musings. “Are they crew or…specimens?” someone quipped darkly. Morality aboard this ship was as fluid as the tide.

    As the session drew to a close, plans for the next leg of their journey began to take shape. Maddock, a mysterious NPC they were meant to escort, loomed large in their thoughts. The promise of more profit—and more chaos—beckoned.

    A Motley Tale

    This session wasn’t just about strategy or objectives; it was a swirling cocktail of comedy, absurdity, and mischief. Whether it was haggling for overpriced goods, debating naval combat tactics mid-battle, or performing dubious medical experiments, the crew proved one thing: they might not be the best sailors, but they were certainly the most memorable.

    Tools for the Job

    Recording starts with Craig, a Discord bot that can record audio directly from the server. It handles overlapping voices well enough to make the next steps possible. After the session, the recording gets uploaded to Riverside.fm, which generates a transcription. While not perfect—especially with the inevitable cross-talk of an RPG—it works well enough to provide a rough script of what happened.

    The transcription is then run through ChatGPT to generate a summary. The results are often a mix of accurate retellings and amusingly surreal interpretations, offering a fresh and hilarious way to revisit the events of the game.

    Why Go Through This Process?

    Although this method isn’t better than sitting down to write a proper recap (not even by a long mile), it has its own peculiar charm. The transcription’s mistakes often create comedic reinterpretations, highlighting the absurdity and creativity of the session. Sometimes, these odd summaries reveal perspectives or threads that might not have been noticed otherwise, adding an extra layer of enjoyment to the process.

    Steps to Capture and Summarize a Game Session

    1. Set Up Craig: Add the Craig bot to a Discord server and use simple commands to start recording during the session. Players should, of course, be aware and agree to being recorded.
    2. Record the Session: Let Craig handle the recording. The bot’s ability to separate audio tracks is particularly useful for clarity.
    3. Transcribe With Riverside.fm: Upload the recording to Riverside and let the platform create a transcription. While it won’t catch every nuance, it provides a readable and mostly accurate version of the session.
    4. Summarize With ChatGPT: Input the transcription into ChatGPT to generate a summary. Adjust prompts as needed to get the desired level of detail or tone.
    5. Review the Results: The output can act as both a recap and a quirky reinterpretation of the session. Whether accurate or slightly off, it offers a new perspective on the events.

    Why It’s Worth Trying

    The process is undeniably chaotic, but that’s part of what makes it entertaining. It’s not about getting a perfect recap; it’s about embracing the mess and seeing what emerges. Sometimes it’s useful, sometimes it’s just funny—but it’s always a unique way to revisit the game.

    For anyone curious to explore their game sessions from a slightly different angle, this method is worth a try. It’s an exercise in embracing the chaos, turning it into something tangible, and finding new ways to appreciate the stories being told around the table.

  • Where this blog exists

    Where this blog exists

    Whether you’re here for inspiration, curiosity, or just to see what’s possible, I hope you find something worth exploring

    I’ve spent years creating things for tabletop roleplaying games—miniatures, stories, rules, and worlds—and I’ve often felt like these pieces existed in isolation. This blog is a way to gather them, to share what I’ve made and the process behind it. It’s a space for anyone who loves the sprawling creativity of TTRPGs, the joy of rolling dice, and the thrill of storytelling.

    You’ll find fragments of what I’ve been working on: rules that have evolved over years of playtesting, glimpses into the worlds I’ve built, and reflections on what it means to create something in this space. It’s about sharing the rough edges and the ideas that keep me coming back to the table..

    What is Sunken Stars?

    The journey of Sunken Stars began years ago. At the time, I was running a game that had all the chaos and charm of a high-seas adventure inspired by One Piece. It was wild, full of energy, and steeped in the spirit of exploration. But even in those early days, I found myself leaning towards something darker with edges that cut a little deeper. I’ve always been drawn to the magnetism of fear—the moments when the familiar dissolves into the unknown and the horizon feels like it might swallow you whole.

    The games started to shift. The world became stranger, the seas more dangerous. Characters had to navigate not just storms and sea beasts, but the weight of their own choices. Each iteration of Sunken Stars carried me closer to the vision that had been growing quietly in the back of my mind. A world where the stars could guide you or betray you, where the islands whispered secrets, and where the ocean—vast and uncaring—was as much an adversary as any enemy you might face.

    The Heart of the Game

    At its core, Sunken Stars is about those who dare to venture beyond the light. It’s a game of sailors and survivors, rogues and wanderers, navigating a fractured world of strange islands and open waters. It’s about carving a path through the jagged black and finding out what waits on the other side—if you can make it that far.

    It’s also about the choices we make when confronted with power. The Patrons, ancient and alien entities, offer strength but demand loyalty. Their gifts are double-edged, leaving marks that can’t be undone. The game doesn’t provide easy answers; it gives you tools and asks what you’re willing to risk.

    The World of Sunken Stars

    The world is not kind. The seas stretch endlessly, dotted with islands that hold wonders and horrors in equal measure. Most people live under the shadow of oppression, their lives shaped by cruel hierarchies and systems of power. For many, the open ocean is the only escape—a place where death is likely, but freedom is possible.

    It’s a world inspired by the late Age of Sail, with the faint flicker of new technologies just beginning to emerge. Gatling guns, electric lights, and experimental radios are whispered about in dockside taverns, but these are prototypes, not the cornerstones of progress. Magic exists here too, but it’s not the structured, reliable kind of high fantasy. It’s strange, wild, and often deeply unsettling. The Patrons, witches, and the islands themselves weave a web of powers that defy easy understanding.

    Years in the Making

    Sunken Stars has grown through years of experiments, playtests, and late-night ideas scribbled onto paper. Each campaign taught me something new: how mechanics could reflect the fragile balance of survival, how navigation could become an act of strategy, and how death could feel like a part of the story rather than its end. The game has changed with every phase, but its heart has remained the same: a love of the unknown, of the pull toward what lies just out of reach.

    This blog is another step in that journey. It’s a way to share the fragments that make up Sunken Stars: the themes, the mechanics, the stories, and the process that brought it all together. It’s for anyone who’s ever looked out past the edge of the light and wondered what waits in the dark.

  • Creating a Sunken Stars Island

    Creating a Sunken Stars Island

    Some stories refuse to stay silent. They take shape in the quiet hours, nagging at the edges of thought, persisting until they’re told.

    This post is about creating an island in a vast sea, unknowable and unkind. A crew, surviving on sharp wits and fraying nerve. And a question: What do you do when stars lie?

    To begin, let me introduce you to one fragment of it: the old chapel on the island of Chapelune.

    Chapelune: Beneath an Eternal Moon

    Chapelune is an island steeped in eerie beauty. Its alabaster cliffs rise sharply from the sea, crowned by a crumbling chapel whose spire pierces the heavens. The chapel is a marvel of forgotten craft, adorned with stained glass windows that depict celestial and alien figures in cryptic poses. Though the building has succumbed to time, the glass remains flawless, casting fractured light across the silver-leafed forest below.

    The island feels heavy with reverence, as though it carries the weight of countless whispered prayers. But there is also unease here, an undercurrent of obsession and transformation. It is the home of the Shaper, a fallen Patron fragmented into shards of stained glass. Banished from the Court of the Moon for aligning with the Sun during an ancient rebellion, the Shaper offers enlightenment that quickly curdles into madness. Its shifting form—sometimes a cloaked figure, sometimes a kaleidoscope of shards—is as mesmerizing as it is dangerous.

    The Shaper, A Fallen Patron

    A fallen Patron, exiled from the Court of the Moon for siding with the Sun during an ancient rebellion. Fragmented into glass, it exerts a pull on mortals, tempting them with promises of enlightenment but offering only madness.

    The Shaper manifests as a constantly shifting figure of stained glass and light, its form fracturing and reassembling with every movement. At times, its form resembles a cloaked artisan, at others, an abstract kaleidoscope of radiant shards.

    A Hook to Begin Your Journey

    The Glass Whisperer

    A merchant offers the party a shard of stained glass humming faintly with whispers, claiming it belonged to the chapel in Chapelune. A wealthy collector hires the party to return it, convinced it holds the key to unlocking “the truth behind the stars.”

    As the party nears the island, they begin seeing fragmented visions of alternate realities through the shard—some hopeful, others horrifying. The shard exerts a pull on the party, forcing them to confront their own flaws or secrets. At night, the shard reflects distorted versions of themselves, showing what they might become.

    Climax: Returning the shard to the chapel triggers a reaction in
    the Vault of Mirrors, where the Shaper appears as a kaleidoscopic figure of shifting glass. It offers the party transformation—physical, mental, or spiritual—in exchange for a price.

    1. The Hall of Steps: A broad hallway that slopes downward, lined with broken pews and aged banners of the Moon Court.
      Each step emits a faint hum as the party descends, intensifying as they near the nave.
    2. The Nave: A grand, open space illuminated by moonlight refracting through the stained glass, creating surreal, shifting colors. The central altar bears evidence of recent rituals: melted candles, smeared chalk sigils, and bloodied cloth. A spiral staircase at the far end descends into the crypt below, hidden by a sliding stone panel that can be revealed with a Sense check (TN 14) or ritual interaction.
    3. The Dreamer’s Alcove A side chamber with stone beds where pilgrims are said to sleep and receive visions. Anyone who sleeps here experiences vivid dreams of descending into light, meeting unknowable beings, and becoming one with the Shaper.
    4. The Vault of Mirrors: A labyrinthine chamber lined with mirrored walls, creating endless reflections and optical illusions, the players’ own reflections may occasionally move independently.
      Hazard A Sense check (TN 12) is required to navigate the maze.
    5. Shaper’s Rest: The final chamber, with the focal point being the mirrored sarcophagus of the Shaper in the center. Three large mirrors are spaced evenly around the room, each reflecting a slightly different version of reality.
      The sarcophagus is guarded by four animated glass golems, each formed of shards from the stained glass windows above.

    If this sparks anything—ideas, questions, or your own interpretations—I’d love to hear it.