Dungeons and Dragons at Work

August 28, 2026July 23, 2026

Hold the Line: Fun Space Weirdos Collaborative Game

A lone space marine is left behind in this collaborative skirmish game

I run multiplayer games of Space Weirdos for six to nine of my friends at least twice a year. Usually I fill them with secret objectives, betrayals and other shenanigans. This time round though I wanted to focus on something different. Collaboration under pressure. So here it is my first foray into the collaborative game.

Drawing inspiration from Warhammer 40,000, the players took on the role of Deathwatch Space Marines deployed to a doomed Imperial world. A Tyranid invasion was sweeping across the planet, and their mission was clear.

First, prevent the Tyranid hordes from reaching the hive city long enough for the civilian population to evacuate. Second, fight their way to a communications array and call in an extraction. Finally, survive long enough to reach the dropship and escape.

Simple objectives on paper. In practice, there was a planet full of hungry Tyranids standing in the way.

Preparing for the Collaborative Game

One of the motivations for running the game was finally getting some of my new miniatures onto the table. Last year I picked up Games Workshop’s Tomb World box set and painted the Deathwatch Kill Team (see picture above). I’d only managed to get a few games of Kill Team in with them. So I created individual character cards for each of the ten marines, attempting to match their equipment and battlefield roles as closely as possible.

The six players each selected a marine, based on coolness factor, to begin the mission.

The battlefield itself was a roughly 4′ x 4′ urban warzone, packed with ruined buildings, fences, city debris and a crashed transport vehicle. The environment felt suitably desperate, as though the defenders had already lost most of the planet and were now fighting for the final survivors.

On the other side of the table, I had prepared six waves of Tyranids that would arrive turn by turn. Unfortunately, I managed to forget my Genestealers on the day, which would have added another nasty element to the invasion. Thankfully the Tyranid force was still varied, dangerous and more than capable of causing problems.

I did have a few other surprises up my sleeve. Wave five introduced a monstrous Psychophage and wave six a Tyranid Prime, basically claws and teeth with wings. Both were significantly tougher than anything the players had encountered up to that point and immediately changed the tone of the battle.

The Plan Meets Reality

Before the game began, I gave the players five minutes to discuss their strategy. To their credit, they quickly came up with a sensible plan and launched into action. Their first priority was reaching the communications array so they could call in extraction as early as possible.

Then the first wave arrived.

Seven Termagants entered the table. There were a few quiet groans around the group. Not because the termagants were tough opponents, but the fact that this was a first wave of many. If the first wave brought seven, what would the next waves bring?

The marines cut down the first wave with disciplined bolter fire, but every alien corpse simply became a stepping stone for the next wave. Wherever the players created a gap, more creatures poured through it. Much like the movie Aliens, the battlefield gradually transformed from a military operation into a desperate fighting retreat.

Collaboration Under Pressure

What made the game interesting wasn’t simply the combat. It was watching how the players worked together as the pressure increased. At the start of the mission there was plenty of discussion. Players coordinated firing lanes, covered one another’s movement and shared responsibility for achieving the objectives.

As casualties mounted, however, priorities began to shift.

Three marines were eventually killed in action. As a designer i was happy about this, it meant the danger of the scenario was very real. Each time, the player simply selected another Deathwatch marine and jumped back into the battle, ensuring everyone remained involved throughout the game.

Even so, the constant Tyranid pressure forced difficult decisions. Do you stay and support a teammate? Do you hold the line for one more turn? Or do you focus on reaching the extraction point before it is too late?

Having these dilemmas take shape on the table is a key ingredient in making collaborative games so memorable. There was no single player capable of carrying the mission alone. Success depended on the group acting together while balancing individual survival against team objectives.

A Hero Left Behind (Gasp)

Through player coordination they managed to get the dropship to arrive relatively quickly. After fighting through wave after wave of Tyranids, the players finally had a route off the planet. Then came the ultimate dilemma. While the surviving marines boarded the extraction craft and escaped, one marine did not.

Honour among the marines was forgotten. The five marines nearest the evacuation point managed to get away and the marksman covering them was left behind. In a fantastic emergent narrative that games like this produce, the lone Deathwatch operative was left behind as the dropship lifted off. While his comrades soared into orbit, he disappeared into the ruined city below, surrounded by an endless tide of Tyranids.

It was exactly the sort of grim, bittersweet ending that feels perfectly at home in the Warhammer 40,000 universe.

The mission was technically a success. The civilians were saved. But not everyone made it home.

Golden Aquilas for the Victorious

With the battle concluded, we tallied up the Tyranid kill counts and handed out Golden Aquila medals to recognise the most effective warriors, witht he best Marksman taking away the biggest Aquila. It was a small touch, but one that added a fun competitive element to an otherwise cooperative game.

More importantly, everyone left the table with a small memento and stories to tell.

The overwhelming Tyranid waves created constant pressure, the objectives forced players to make meaningful decisions, and the multiplayer format encouraged communication and teamwork throughout. Most of all, it demonstrated something I have found time and again in tabletop gaming. Collaboration becomes far more interesting when success is uncertain.

When resources are limited, enemies are overwhelming and the clock is ticking, players stop focusing on optimal solutions and start making real decisions together.

And sometimes those decisions result in medals, heroic last stands and one very unfortunate Space Marine being left to an uncertain fate on a doomed world.

If you’d like to get hold of my notes and Space Weirdos stats for the game you can get them here.

August 21, 2026August 21, 2026

Dungeons & Dragons and Communication: Surprising Parallels with CMM

I’ve been invited to run some short D&D style sessions for the CMM conference in Birmingham (UK) next year. While chatting to Abbie VanMeter on the Stories Lived Stories Told podcast it became apparent that playing and running D&D ties in very closely to CMM. So for this article I want to look at the CMM communication theory and see how it relates to playing tabletop roleplaying games.

What is CMM

Before chatting to Abbey I had never heard of CMM before. So after a few pointers from Abbie, I’ve started trying to understand what CMM is all about. Coordinated Management of Meaning (CMM) was developed by communication scholars W. Barnett Pearce and Vernon Cronen back in the 1970s. CMM suggests that people don’t simply exchange information through conversation. Instead, they actively create and manage shared meaning together. Communication is less about transmitting facts and more about building a common understanding of the world through interaction.

That sounds very similar to the way we communicate when playing Dungeons & Dragons.

Please keep in mind that while I have my 10,000 hours playing D&D, I am very much a layman when it comes to the CMM paradigm. As such, I encourage you to do your own research into this fascinating topic.

Building a Shared Reality

Every game of D&D begins with a simple premise: a group of people agree to imagine the same world. Which of course can be a problem. As the Dungeon Master describes a tavern one player imagines a bustling medieval inn. Another pictures a smoky pirate den. A third envisions something inspired by their favourite fantasy novel. None of these interpretations are exactly the same. Yet through conversation, questions, and storytelling, the group gradually coordinates their understanding of the setting.

According to CMM, communication creates social realities. We don’t just talk about the world, we help construct it together. A D&D adventure is perhaps the most literal example of this process. The game world only exists because the all the players at the table continuously create it through their actions, questions and collaboration.

Some examples of CMM in interpersonal communication (from Examples.com)

More Than Just Words

CMM argues that meaning exists at multiple levels. A statement gains significance not only from the words themselves but also from the relationship between speakers, the context of the conversation, and the broader culture surrounding it.

This is of course true when playing D&D. Consider a player saying:

“I draw my sword.”

The meaning depends entirely on context. In one scene, it’s a heroic act of defence. In another, it’s a reckless escalation that could start a brawl or even a war. Around some tables it might even be a running in-joke.

The same action carries different meanings because players interpret it through the context of the story, their relationships with one another, and the norms of the campaign. The best players instinctively understand this. They don’t simply think about what their character is doing. They think about what that action means to the group and the story. context is everything.

Coordination Is More Important Than Agreement

One of the most counterintuitive ideas in CMM is that successful communication doesn’t require people to completely agree. Instead, they need to coordinate their actions in a way that creates a shared pattern of understanding. Odd, but what does this look like in D&D.

The lawful do-good paladin may disagree with the chaotic out for herself rogue. The idealistic god fearing cleric may clash with the more cynical warlock. Yet the party still functions because the players coordinate their actions toward a common goal.

In fact, some of the most memorable moments in campaigns emerge from disagreement. In my friends Duskfall campaign, I played an “Old One” Worshipping Warlock who seemed at odds with the rest of the party. At the beginning I was a little worried that the character might cause a rift in the party. If he did I was fine to retire him. However, I needn’t have worried. Despite seemingly being at odds with the other characters, they all found common ground. In fact the Old One cult grew in stature becoming a force in the city and a convenient way to dispose of inconvenient bodies… As players we still joke about the cult of Ygeggos and it has even crossed campaigns and made appearances in other adventures.

The key is that players understand the difference between character conflict and player conflict. They coordinate the story even while their characters argue within it.

This is a valuable lesson for leadership and teamwork. Effective teams do not eliminate differences. Instead they learn how to work productively with them.

Stories Create Meaning

One of the things I really like about CMM is that it places significant importance on the stories people tell to make sense of their experiences. These stories help create coherence and allow individuals to understand who they are and how they fit into the world.

Of course, D&D is built entirely on emergent stories. Characters develop identities through their adventures. Parties create shared histories. Campaigns generate legends that players remember for years. Ask any long-term D&D player about their favourite campaign and they’ll never describe game mechanics.

Instead they tell stories. They tell you about the halfling midwife who died fighting an ancient green dragon. The orc shaman who freed a Kraken from a Glacier or even the party who used their gold to build a theatre to put on plays about their adventures. Who could forget the hanging tree, where the well meaning fighter released the demons on the world. All these really happened in my campaigns.

These stories help players make sense of the experience and become part of the group’s collective identity.

The Mystery Beyond the Rules

An aspect of CMM that particularly resonates with roleplaying games is the concept of “mystery”. No matter how much we communicate or coordinate, there is always something beyond our understanding. No story is ever completely predictable or fully explained.

Any Dungeon Master knows this feeling. You spend hours preparing encounters, maps, villains, and plot twists. Then the players decide to befriend the monster, ignore the plot hook, and start a trading company. Consequently, the campaign becomes something nobody anticipated. Of course, far from being a problem, this uncertainty is often where the magic happens.

The most memorable moments in D&D are rarely the ones anyone planned. They emerge from the unpredictable interactions between players, characters, dice, and imagination.

D&D: both fun and great for improving your communication skills

CMM Lessons for Leaders

Looking at D&D through this lens it seems obvious that D&D is an excellent tool for developing communication skills. Particularly as it forces participants to practice the very things CMM describes.

When running or playing these games players must:

Create shared understanding.
Interpret meaning in different contexts.
Coordinate actions despite differing perspectives.
Build relationships through conversation.
Develop stories that create group identity.
Adapt to uncertainty and ambiguity.

Of course, these are not just gaming skills. They are leadership skills.

Every workplace team is engaged in its own process of coordinated meaning-making. People all bring different experiences, assumptions, values, and perspectives. Success very much depends on a leaders ability to create a shared understanding of goals, challenges, and opportunities.

Luckily for us the D&D table simply makes that process visible. Behind every adventure, regardless of how fantastical, is a group of people engaged in the ongoing task of creating meaning together. And that may be one of the most valuable things the game teaches.

The very act of playing D&D is actually more than having fun with friends. It enhances the way we communicate. We’re practicing Coordinated Management of Meaning without even realising it. Which in turn makes us better at navigating web of relationships and communication that is the workplace, ultimately making us better leaders.

Now that I’ve scratched the surface of CMM, I cant wait to dig deeper and learn more.

August 14, 2026August 14, 2026

Murder, Matrimony and a Most Scandalous Evening

What happens when five Regency-era sisters discover their father has been murdered a few hours before hosting the social event of the season? Well, recently I had the opportunity to find out when I ran a two-hour one-shot of Virtues & Scandals called Featherington Manor.

Dear readers, the premise was delightfully simple. The players took on the roles of the Featherington Sisters, daughters of the fabulously wealthy Baron Featherington. Each sister had her own personality, ambitions and secret desires, while also navigating the rigid expectations of Regency society. Reputation was everything and scandal could destroy the entire family.

Our cast of sisters could not have been more different.

Bally Featherington was the eldest sister and self-appointed Queen of the Ball. Fanny was the dutiful daughter, determined to uphold the family’s reputation. Lucy Featherington possessed an almost alarming fascination with soldiers and military men. Milly was a hopeless romantic dreamer searching for true love. While Lizzy was a horse-mad adventurer who seemed entirely unsuited to the restrictions of polite society.

Together, they inherited a problem. Several problems, in fact.

Act One: The Dead Baron

The session opened with the sisters discovering their father dead in his study.

Unknown to the characters, the Baron had been poisoned by their scheming cousin Roger Askill. This thoroughly unpleasant opportunist stood to inherit everything if the sisters failed to secure a marriage. (This premise was lifted directly from the wonderful regency era podcast Bitcherton. Highly recommended for inspiration).

As the sisters searched the study, matters became even worse. Not only was their father dead, but his papers revealed that the family was effectively bankrupt. If one of the sisters did not secure an engagement before the evening was over, Featherington Manor would be lost.

Naturally, this was the exact moment when visitors began arriving at the front door. Rather than mourning their father, the sisters immediately began a frantic operation to hide the body. All the while maintaining the appearance that everything was perfectly normal. The dead Baron was eventually rolled in a rug before relocating to the coal cellar, which seemed entirely reasonable at the time.

Players scrambled to distract visitors, conceal evidence and fend off the ever-present Roger Askill. Every conversation became an exercise in maintaining propriety while desperately trying not to reveal that the head of the household was currently hidden amongst the coal.

As a bonus complication, an amorous gardener also entered the picture. Creating further opportunities for confusion, awkwardness and increasingly questionable explanations. By the end of the first act, the sisters had somehow managed to keep both the murder and the bankruptcy secret.

For now.

Act Two: The Featherington Ball

With disaster temporarily postponed, attention turned to the annual Featherington Ball.

One of my favourite tools as a Game Master is asking players to help build the setting through “paint the picture” questions. Rather than me describing every detail, the players collectively created the atmosphere of the evening. I had a series of questions ready to go and as such the grand ball took on a life of its own.

The ballroom quickly came alive with glittering decorations, whispered gossip, fashionable guests and subtle signs that the family’s wealth might not be quite as secure as everyone believed. The ball itself became a whirlwind of dancing, flirtation and social manoeuvring.

A collection of eligible bachelors attended, each carrying secrets of their own. There was the dashing Captain Percival Cavendish, the scholarly Julian Fairfax, the wildly unsuitable Lord Jasper Redmond and the sombre Mr Charles Wetherby. Meanwhile Roger Askill continued lurking in the background, hoping the sisters would fail and leave him free to claim the estate.

As conversations unfolded, alliances formed and ambitions collided. There was matchmaking, misunderstandings and a surprising amount of unsuccessful flirting.

And then there was the Can Can.

A Dance Too Far

At some point during the evening, the Featherington sisters managed to convince the attendees to participate in the scandalous new dance sweeping society: the Can Can.

The image of respectable Regency nobles enthusiastically joining a dance that would have sent society’s chaperones into fits of horror perfectly captured the spirit of the session. The game had begun with strict expectations of decorum and social propriety, yet slowly descended into delightful chaos as players embraced increasingly bold solutions to their problems.

By this stage, secrets were being uncovered, schemes were being hatched and romantic opportunities were being pursued with varying degrees of success.

A Happy Ending… More or Less

Despite the murder, the bankruptcy, the hidden corpse, the scheming cousin and the numerous social disasters waiting to happen, the sisters ultimately achieved the one thing they desperately needed.

A proposal of marriage.

With an engagement secured by Fanny and the wealthy merchant Fairfax, the family estate was saved from falling into Askill’s hands and the Featherington name survived another day.

Why It Worked

What made Featherington Manor such an enjoyable session was how quickly the players embraced the premise. The combination of Regency etiquette, hidden agendas, personal ambitions and absurd circumstances created fertile ground for roleplaying.

Unlike many games where problems are solved with swords or spells, every challenge here revolved around conversation, reputation and relationships. Players had to think like ambitious socialites rather than adventurers, balancing personal goals against the needs of the family.

The result was a session filled with laughter, memorable character moments and exactly the kind of emergent storytelling that tabletop roleplaying games do best.

For two hours, five players became the Featherington Sisters, desperately trying to preserve their family’s future while hiding a murdered father in the coal cellar. While I, as the GM, desperately tried to keep up as the various suitors, stable boys and servants.

One of players commented that there was no fighting, it was a very different session to normal. Which is exactly why I love running one-page rpgs.

For those interested in running a similar session, go and buy Virtues and Scandals! I’ve also included my session notes to download for free here.

August 7, 2026June 29, 2026

How to Recruit Players for Your D&D Group

At work right now, I’m involved in a recruitment campaign. I review CVs, help shortlist candidates, and sit in on interviews as we look for the right people to join our team. Of course, technical skills matter. We need people who can do the job. But experience and qualifications are only part of what makes someone successful in a role.

What we are really looking for is cultural fit.

Are they passionate about botany or zoology?
Are they proactive?
Do they volunteer for opportunities?
Will they take initiative and get things done without constant direction?
Will they work well with the rest of the team?

These are the things that often determine whether someone will truly succeed and enjoy their role long term. The more I have been involved in recruitment at work, the more I have realised that recruiting players for a Dungeons & Dragons group might well be very similar.

Your D&D Group Needs the Right Culture

When people look for new D&D players, they often focus heavily on experience and rules knowledge.

Do they know how to play?
Have they played before?
Do they understand the system?
Can they build a character correctly?

Those things can certainly help, but they are not necessarily the most important qualities in a long-term group. The bigger question is whether they fit the culture of the table.

Will they get along with the other players?
Do they enjoy the same style of game?
Are they interested in roleplaying, tactical combat, storytelling, or character development in the same way as the rest of the group?
Will they contribute positively to the table dynamic?

A player can learn rules over time. It is much harder to change attitude, engagement, or play style.

Recruit for Long-Term Fit

At work, my goal is not simply to hire someone to fill a position for a few months. Ideally, I want someone who will stay with the company, grow into the role, contribute to the team, and find genuine fulfilment in what they do.

The same applies to a D&D group.

When recruiting a new player, you are not just trying to fill an empty chair at the table. You are looking for someone who will become part of the group long term. Someone who contributes to the stories, the friendships, and the overall experience of the campaign.

Thinking back to my most successful campaigns, it’s group dynamic that really made them tick. So it is absolutely worth taking the time to protect it.

Referrals Can Make a Huge Difference

One thing that often helps in recruitment is referrals from trusted staff members. Recommendations can provide confidence that someone will fit the culture and work well with the team.

Of course the same is true with your D&D group.

Some of the best additions to a gaming group come through existing members. Current players already understand the group dynamic and often know who is likely to fit well with the table’s style and expectations. While referrals are not a guarantee, they can often help avoid many of the issues that come from bringing in completely unknown players.

Where to Find New Players

If you cant get any referrals or are starting completely from scratch don’t despair, there are more ways than ever to connect with potential players, both online and in person.

Facebook Groups

Local Facebook groups are still one of the easiest ways to find players. Most cities have tabletop gaming or D&D community groups where people regularly post looking for campaigns.

The advantage of Facebook is that you can often get a sense of someone before inviting them to your table. You can see how they communicate, what sort of games they enjoy, and how they interact with others in the community.

When posting, it also helps to be clear about the type of game you run. Mention things like:

Tone of the campaign
Frequency of sessions
Experience level required
Whether the game is roleplay-heavy or combat-focused
Expectations around commitment and attendance

Being upfront helps attract players who are genuinely suited to your group.

Reddit and Online Communities

Reddit can also be a useful recruitment tool. Subreddits dedicated to D&D, tabletop RPGs, or local gaming communities often have players actively searching for groups. Online platforms like Discord communities and RPG forums can serve a similar purpose.

The key is not to recruit the first available person immediately. Treat the process carefully. Have conversations first, ask about play style, and make sure expectations line up on both sides.

Local Game Stores

Even in this digital world we live in local game stores are still one of the best places to meet tabletop players. Many stores have noticeboards where you can post flyers or group advertisements. Even a simple poster with your contact details and a short description of the campaign can attract interested players.

Game stores also allow you to meet people face to face before committing to a long campaign. You can often get a much better sense of personality and enthusiasm through casual conversation than through online messages alone.

Public Gaming Groups

Another excellent option is attending public gaming groups and community events.

Groups that run open or public games are often full of people actively looking for regular campaigns. They also give you the opportunity to actually play with potential recruits before inviting them into your long-term group.

In Western Australia, groups such as DnD Fremantle provide a great way for players and Game Masters to meet others in the local community. Public games can act almost like a trial run, helping everyone work out whether the personalities and play styles fit together naturally.

This approach can often lead to much stronger long-term groups because everyone has already experienced what playing together is actually like.

Take Your Time

Whether it is in the workplace or around a gaming table, finding the right people matters. Rules can be taught. Systems can be learned. Experience can grow over time. But building a strong group culture takes care and patience.

If you want a D&D campaign that lasts for years, with players who genuinely enjoy playing together, it is worth taking your time and recruiting wisely.

July 31, 2026July 21, 2026

How to Write Engaging Game Scenarios That Fit a Tight Schedule

One of the biggest challenges when using roleplaying games in workplace settings is time. At home, a roleplaying session can happily sprawl across an entire afternoon or evening. Players chat about their week, argue with goblins for forty minutes, and somehow spend half the session buying rope. Conference environments are very different creatures entirely and run to an extremely tight schedule. Sessions need to start quickly, engage immediately, and conclude cleanly before attendees disappear into the next keynote presentation.

I have been asked to run a series of games for a communication conference in 2027 (I’ll post more details closer tot he time). There will be four sessions over two days, each 75 minutes long. The idea is to showcase how roleplaying games can help foster communication and develop leadership skills. Now I love playing short one shots, but they normally take a minimum of 3 hours. So, I have an interesting challenge: write two engaging scenarios that show case the player interaction and can be wrapped up with a debrief in one hour. Easy, right… right…

Rules

While I love D&D, Call of Cthulhu and others, they do contain pretty heavy rulesets. I will also be working under the assumption that none of the conference attendees will have any experience playing roleplaying games. Consequently, using an established ruleset is going to have too high of a learning curve.

In order for the players to get into the game quickly I’m going to use my own ruleset Play2Lead. Easy to learn in a couple of minutes participants should be able to get into the action straight away. In a similar vein there will be no character creation, rather pre generated characters will be provided for each scenario, with clear roles.

The Three Encounter Structure

I’ve written before about designing workplace scenarios before and i intend to follow the same design principles. As such each of these scenarios will a simple three encounter structure that I use for one-shots:

Cold Open: Throw players straight into action—explosions, monsters, a chase. Skip the slow build.
Middle Twist: Add a big revelation that flips the situation on its head.
Final Showdown: End with a bang. The danger should feel real, and not everyone has to make it out alive. If possible add a difficult dilemma for the players to work through.

That’s all we have time for.

This structure creates momentum. Players immediately understand there is a clear objective and limited time to achieve it. As first-time players it’s important that they feel comfortable so they can quickly grasp the rhythm of the game.

Perhaps most importantly, it leaves room for some roleplay without letting the session drift into the wastes of overlong decision-making.

Why Familiar Genres Matter

One thing I’ve learned over years of introducing new players to RPGs is that unfamiliar rules are far less intimidating when wrapped inside familiar stories. People already understand the language of popular movies. They know how zombie survivors behave. The tension of an alien horror film is obvious. They instinctively grasp the heroic structure of fantasy quests. Of course, this means you can skip enormous amounts of explanation.

Nobody needs a twenty-minute briefing to understand: “Something is hunting us on this spaceship.” Or: “The dead are rising and we need to escape.”

The tropes do the heavy lifting for you. Players arrive with expectations already loaded into their brains like pre-installed software, allowing them to engage almost immediately.

As such my intention is to design my scenarios around popular movies. My initial thinking is Alien, Zombies and potentially a Lord of the Rings inspired one, this is roleplaying after all.

First Thoughts on an Alien Inspiration

Science fiction horror works beautifully in short-form workplace games because the pressure is immediate and constant. Everyone can visualise the close industrial tunnels of these types of film. The players can get straight into the game without much in the way of explanation.

Characters

The pre-generated characters for this session will include standard tropes: captain, engineer, science officer, medic, pilot each with a specific skill and piece of equipment.

Encounter One: The Distress Signal

Straight into the action, the crew of a salvage vessel begin by investigating a damaged research station after receiving a fragmented distress call. The station is mostly abandoned, lights flickering, alarms sounding intermittently, and signs of violence scattered throughout the corridors. The players must find the generator and restore power to the engines. What has caused such chaos?

Suddenly the hull will breach and the players need to work together to secure it, quickly. A nice bit of urgency right from the get go.

Encounter Two: Something is Loose

Now for the middle twist, although probably not unexpected given the theme. As the team explores deeper into the facility, they discover evidence of a hostile lifeform. Slime, scratch marks etc. Communications fail. The creature begins stalking them through vents, maintenance tunnels, and darkened laboratories.

Players must talk in whispers, or communicate through note or face attack from the creature. The scenario becomes about teamwork, communication, and managing panic under pressure.

Encounter Three: Escape

The players discover the only way out is aboard a damaged shuttle with limited seats and a failing reactor countdown. They must choose between rescuing survivors, destroying the station, or simply escaping alive. A very juicy dilemma!

This final encounter creates fantastic workplace discussions around leadership, decision-making, and competing priorities.

Keep It Simple, Keep It to a Tight Schedule

The key to designing this sort of adventure is that simplicity creates engagement.

Conference attendees do not need twenty pages of backstory and complicated rules.

They need:

A clear objective
Recognisable tropes
Immediate problems
Interesting decisions
A chance to contribute

That’s what creates memorable sessions.

Over the next few months I’ll be refining the design for 2-3 scenarios and sharing my thinking here.

But what i really want is to give those conference attendees signing up for my games to leave with a fun memory having experienced something different. And i hope the realisation that RPGs can be used as a fun way to practice both communication and leadership.

Particularly the bit where Dave from HR sacrificed himself to the space monster while screaming into a malfunctioning flamethrower.