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.
Whether you’re here for inspiration, curiosity, or just to see what’s possible, I hope you find something worth exploring.
What is Sunken Stars?
My journey with 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 I ran 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.