Discovering the Hidden Joy of One-Page RPGs

Roleplaying games come in all shapes and sizes. Some arrive in beautifully bound rulebooks hundreds of pages thick, complete with detailed character creation systems, extensive equipment lists, and years of accumulated lore. I love those games. But sometimes, the funnest adventures fit on a single sheet of paper. One-page RPGs occupy a special place in my gaming heart. They are unapologetically focused, delightfully weird, and incredibly accessible. In a hobby that can sometimes feel intimidating to newcomers, a one-page RPG keeps it simple: “Here’s the premise. Grab some dice. Let’s play.”

Theme Heavy, Rules Lite

The magic of a one-page RPG isn’t found in complex mechanics. It’s found in commitment to a theme. A good one-page RPG takes a single idea and runs with it at full speed. The handful of rules exist purely to support that concept. There is no attempt to simulate every possible situation. Instead, each game asks a simple question:

“What if we spent the next few hours fully embracing this particular fantasy?”

That focus creates something remarkable. Players aren’t spending the first hour learning rules or optimising character builds. They’re immediately stepping into the tone and spirit of the game. The result is often a session that feels more like an improv comedy show, a favourite movie, or a particularly chaotic stage play than a traditional campaign.

Perfect for a Single Evening

Where I think One-page RPGs really shine is as one-shots. Most can be taught in less than minutes and completed in a three to four-hour session. That makes them ideal for game nights when the full Dungeons & Dragons campaign isn’t happening, when new players are joining the table, or when you simply want to try something different.

There’s also a peculiar freedom that comes from knowing the story begins and ends in a single sitting. Players are more willing to take risks. They make bigger choices. They embrace ridiculous plans. Nobody is worried about preserving a carefully crafted character for the next two years of campaign play.

If the plan fails spectacularly, then that’s a great way to finish.

Nice Marines

One of my favourites is Nice Marines. I ran this back at MartyCon 2026 with ten minutes prep and we had a blast.

The premise is wonderfully simple. You’re genetically engineered super-soldiers in enormous power armour, capable of crushing enemies and surviving impossible odds.

Your mission? Diplomacy. Helping a planets government after the war. The contrast between the imperial murder machines and the non combat scenario became a great source of comedy.

Want to play regency era? Virtues and Scandals might be for you.

Virtues and Scandals

Then there’s Virtues and Scandals, which I would like to run for my current gaming group. This throws the players into a Bridgerton-esque Regency-era romance drama. Think grand balls, whispered rumours, unsuitable romances, ambitious social climbing, and enough scandal to keep society talking for months.

Here success isn’t measured by defeating monsters or collecting treasure. It’s measured by reputation, romance, influence, and whether your latest social disaster can somehow be turned into an advantage.

The stakes are completely different, yet somehow feel just as important. And for a group that enjoys the rough and tumble of combat it will make for a fun change of pace. I might even buy some cheap fans for the players to hide behind during the game.

This One Time at Bard Camp

If Virtues and Scandals is Regency drama, This One Time at Bard Camp is pure college comedy. Players take on the roles of aspiring bards attending a summer academy dedicated to music, performance, and probably causing trouble.

The game embraces all the classic teen movie tropes: rivalries, friendships, crushes, embarrassing mistakes, talent competitions, and authority figures who are somehow always one step behind the chaos.

I think this would be great fun for my group to get let loose on.

A Perfect Fit for the Workplace

One of the biggest challenges when introducing roleplaying games to a professional audience is overcoming the learning curve. Participants may only have an hour or two available, and few want to spend half that time reading rules.

That’s where one-page RPGs excel.

Explaining the rules takes minutes, allowing groups to spend the majority of their session actually playing, communicating, and solving problems together. The simplicity removes barriers and helps participants focus on the experience rather than the mechanics.

The strong themes also make it easier for people to engage quickly. Most people immediately understand the social dynamics of a Regency romance, or the chaos of a summer camp comedy. Familiar tropes give players permission to jump straight into roleplaying without worrying about getting the setting “wrong.”

For workplace conferences, training sessions, and leadership development programs, this makes one-page RPGs an ideal tool. In a single 90-minute session, participants can practise communication, teamwork, creativity, adaptability, and problem-solving while sharing plenty of laughs along the way.

In many ways, one-page RPGs demonstrate one of the greatest strengths of roleplaying games as a learning tool: meaningful experiences don’t require complex systems. Sometimes a simple premise, a clear theme, and a group of willing participants are all that’s needed to create genuine engagement and lasting memories.

Why They Matter

One-page RPGs remind us of something important about our hobby. The rules are not the point. Rather, we should be focusing on is gathering around a table with friends and collectively creating fun, memorable stories.

A one-page RPG strips away almost everything except imagination and theme. What’s left is often pure roleplaying joy. They’re easy to learn, easy to run (usually), and easy to share. As such they allow us to explore worlds and genres that would never justify a year-long campaign but make for an unforgettable evening.

Most importantly, they remind us that roleplaying games don’t need to be complicated to be memorable. Sometimes all you need is a single page, a handful of dice, and a group of players willing to embrace the premise completely.

Jump onto google. Search one-page RPGs, and find one that has a theme that appeals to you. After a quick read you can have it at the table in 15 minutes. I think you’ll enjoy the results.

GM Book Club Podcast: International Chapter

I meant to post about this over a month ago, but failed drastically. However, better late than never I suppose. (Sorry Eric). Myself and my good friends Rich and Marty were invited by the host Eric to feature on the GM Book Club podcast. This episode is called From Graphic Novels to Gaming Tables: How Monstress Inspires Adventure and is all about Monstress by Marjorie Liu.

I love graphic novels and comics and find that the stories tend to be bit wilder in this format. So it was a joy to do a deep dive on this one with the others. Eric did a masterful job of hosting and kept us all on track.

We discuss the book in the context of roleplaying and look for things to port into our games. Great fun!

If you would like to check it out choose one of the links below.

As the three of us are based in Australia, we now make up the international chapter of the podcast! I’m looking forward to recording more of these episodes in the near future and we have a couple locked in already.

For more podcasts I’ve been involved in check out my podcast page here.

How Often Should You Play Dungeons & Dragons?

rustic december calendar page with vintage style

One of the questions that quietly haunts many gaming groups is simple: how often should you play Dungeons & Dragons? I once met “that guy” who was very militant in his thinking. Weekly was the right answer and fortnightly at a push, anything else was unacceptable to his rather limited world view. But let’s be realistic there isn’t a universal answer. Like choosing a class or rolling up a character background, the right cadence is deeply personal. It depends on life, work, family, enthusiasm, and how much space everyone has in their schedules. Over the years, I’ve played at several different rhythms, and each one has brought its own flavour to the table.

The Golden Age of Weekly Games

Many moons ago when I was an undergraduate at Edinburgh University we played every Sunday night at GEAS. It was a sacred time slot. We all attended come hell or highwater.

Weekly play has a kind of magic to it.

The story stays fresh. Everyone remembers what happened last session. Plot threads remain tight, character relationships develop naturally, and momentum builds quickly. Over a typical ten-week university term, our party could accomplish an astonishing amount. Dungeons cleared, villains defeated, mysteries unravelled. It felt like living inside a novel that advanced a chapter every week.

If you can manage weekly sessions, you are fortunate indeed. It’s the closest thing to an uninterrupted narrative flow. But life has a habit of filling Sundays.

The Fortnightly Campaign

These days, my main game runs every two weeks.

The story takes a little more effort to remember. We always begin with a quick recap while we settle in and character sheets appear. But the trade-off is worth it. A fortnightly rhythm fits comfortably around work, family commitments, and the other obligations that quietly accumulate in adult life.

Because the group can maintain consistency, the campaign still thrives. Our adventures tend to run one to two years, which gives the story plenty of space to breathe. Characters evolve slowly, reputations grow, and the world responds to the party’s actions over time.

It may not have the relentless momentum of weekly play, but it has something equally valuable: sustainability.

The Monthly Table

For a long time I also ran a monthly game.

Monthly sessions have their own rhythm. The longer gap means there is usually a bit of catching up at the beginning. Notes get checked, stories retold, and memories nudged back into place. But there is a surprising benefit for the Game Master.

More time between sessions means more time to prepare. Encounters can be polished, storylines carefully woven, and worlds expanded without feeling rushed. I even had time to build specific terrain pieces for the more involved encounters.

My friend Rich now runs that monthly slot and does it brilliantly. His sessions are tight, focused, and enormous fun. The only real side effect of monthly play is that campaigns stretch out over longer periods. What might take a year in a weekly game can take several years to complete.

But if the table is enjoying itself, time is hardly the enemy.

The Quarterly Experiment

Finally, there is the most unusual cadence I run: a quarterly game of Imperium Maledictum.

I really wanted to run the system, but I simply didn’t have space for another regular campaign. So instead of forcing a traditional structure, I borrowed inspiration from cinema.

Each session runs like a film in a franchise.

Think of something like the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Characters grow over time, relationships deepen, and the setting slowly evolves. But each individual story is self-contained. You can enjoy a single adventure without needing to remember every detail from the previous one.

The result is a campaign that feels episodic. Every few months the characters reunite for another dangerous mission in the grim darkness of the far future. It works remarkably well for a group with limited availability.

Play at the cadence that works for you and your friends

The Real Answer

So how often should you play Dungeons & Dragons? for a start ignore “that guy” I mentioned above. Instead:

As often as works for you.

Weekly games create powerful narrative momentum. Fortnightly campaigns balance story with real life. Monthly sessions allow thoughtful preparation and long-form storytelling. Quarterly adventures can feel like cinematic episodes in an ongoing saga.

There is no wrong schedule.

If you gather every week around a battered table with maps and miniatures, you are lucky indeed. But if your group only manages a few long sessions a year, that is just as valid.

Because the real magic of D&D isn’t the frequency.

It’s the moment when friends gather, dice tumble across the table, and for a few hours the world becomes a place of dragons, danger, and shared imagination.