Tag: Game Development

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The Choices That Matter: Why Meaningful Decisions Make RPGs Powerful

I’ve been thinking about how to design adventures for the CMM conference in June next year. Part of the secret that makes playing RPGs so much fun is when, as a player, you have to make a meaningful decision. Of course, this can include tricky moral dilemmas, but doesn’t need to. Knowing that your decisions at the table have consequences really elevates the experience.

Do you open the mysterious door or keep walking? Will you trust that suspicious stranger? Save the villagers or pursue the villain?

A meaningful decision is not simply a decision between two options. It is a choice where the outcome matters, there has to be something to lose, and where neither option is obviously correct.

Choices are the engine of roleplaying

A roleplaying game without meaningful choices is essentially a guided tour. The players may roll dice, fight monsters and explore interesting locations, but if their decisions don’t meaningfully affect what happens, they are passengers rather than participants.

When designing adventures create situations where players have agency. The players decide what their characters do, and the world responds accordingly.

Homlet Village is under attack by a gang of Bugbears, led by their arch nemesis Greyneck. Do the players attack the Bugbears? Perhaps they open negotiations with the dastardly Greyneck. Instead the adventurers sneak into the village to spirit the inhabitants away before the enemy break down the gates. If Greyneck has something the characters desperately need, it opens up even more possibilities.

The important thing is that the players get to decide. And the decision has consequences. This is what makes an RPG feel alive.

The power of the dilemma

The most memorable RPG decisions are rarely between good and bad. They are between good and good. Or, better yet, between bad and worse.

Imagine a party discover that the Realms ruler is actually an imposter. He killed the real King years ago. The problem is that he is a fair and just ruler and his subjects love him. They can bring this imposter to justice where he will surely be executed, potentially causing a civil war. Alternatively, they can keep quiet and let the “King” continue as is, knowing that he is a murderer.

There isn’t a perfect answer.

Now the players have something to talk about around the table. “What should we do?” The dilemma creates tension because the players care about the outcome. They debate, argue and negotiate. They make their case.

When eventually someone says: “Right. We’re doing it.” it creates an incredibly important moment. Ultimately, the story now belongs to the players.

The Prisoners Dilemma is a classic for a reason.

A choice without consequences isn’t really a choice

RPGs also demonstrate an important distinction between choice and meaningful choice.

A player might be offered three doors.

  • Behind door one is a monster.
  • Behind door two is treasure.
  • Behind door three is another monster.

Technically, the player has choices. But if the doors are essentially arbitrary, the decision has little meaning. Instead, contrast it with:

  • Door one: Save the captured villagers, but allow the villain to escape.
  • Door two: Pursue the villain, but leave the villagers to their fate.
  • Door three: Attempt to do both, knowing there is a strong chance of failing at both.

Now the choice has weight and the player has to decide what matters. Meaningful decisions like this force the players to reveal their priorities.

Meaning comes from having something at stake

Think about the stories we remember from playing RPGs. We rarely remember the encounter where the party fought six identical goblins, lost no hit points and collected 14 gold pieces. No, we remember the moment when the party had one spell slot left, the cleric was unconscious and someone had to decide whether to run or stay and save their friend good friend Vesperian.

We remember the difficult choices. And we remember them because something was at stake.

If I want to make these hour long adventures mean something then there must be something serious hanging in the balance. The players need to know that their decision, regardless of what it is, has consequences.

  • They are hunting a monster that has been persecuted by the villagers
  • A prophecy has identified the Chosen One who will save the land. The King wants to execute her, rebels hide her away. Her death will stop the ravenous horde of the dead
  • The Grand Magical Library is burning down. Doo you save the loyal librarians or magical tomes that might hold the secret of immortality

Using the meaningful decision

As i work on these adventures, I am going to make sure that each has a meaningful decision at it’s core. Then as part of the session debrief we can explore the ways that the players reached agreement (or not) around how to approach it. i really believe that this will help create a memorable experience for those signing up for the games. And that is ultimately what I want to achieve. Creating an impression of D&D that they will remember long after they have left the conference.

In addition, I’m going to be a bit more purposeful about including these in my current Mythic Bastionland campaign. Often they come about in the moment, but I feel that a few well placed meaningful decision points might be a good way to lift the campaign.

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Why Every Dungeon Master Should Consider Starting In Media Res

Most of us will have begun more than one Dungeons & Dragons adventure with a familiar scene: the party meets in a tavern, a mysterious stranger offers a quest, and the characters cautiously decide whether to accept. There is nothing wrong with this approach, in fact sometimes it can be a fun boost of nostalgia. However, there is another technique that can inject immediate energy into a game from the get go: starting in media res.

What is In Media Res?

The Latin phrase in media res translates to “into the middle of things.” Rather than beginning at the start of the story, the action begins while events are already underway. The characters are not discussing whether they should embark on an adventure. They are already in the thick of it and usually in immediate danger .

Imagine opening a session with:

“The wagon lurches violently as goblin arrows rain down from the trees. One horse collapses, screaming in terror. Smoke rises from the forest ahead. What are you going to do?”

The players immediately have questions. Why are they on this wagon? Where are they going? Who is attacking them? The answers can emerge naturally through play. The story begins with excitement rather than exposition.

For Dungeon Masters running convention games, conference one-shots, introductory sessions, or the opening of a new campaign, starting in media res can be an incredibly powerful way to engage the players straight away.

What Does In Media Res Look Like in D&D?

An in media res opening drops the players directly into a meaningful situation.

Some examples include:

  • The party is halfway through a desperate escape from a collapsing dungeon, a dragon on their heels.
  • The adventurers are defending a village that is already on fire and under attack.
  • A negotiation with a crime lord has gone catastrophically wrong.
  • The heroes awaken in chains aboard a slave ship and orc slavers are ready to throw them overboard.
  • The group is hanging from a rope bridge while harpies circle overhead.
  • A heist is underway, the alarm has just sounded and the vault door is closing.

In each case, the players are immediately making decisions rather than listening to explanations. The game starts with action.

Instant Engagement

One of the challenges facing any Dungeon Master, especially in one-shots, is getting players invested quickly. Traditional openings often require a period of scene setting, introductions, and explanation before players become fully engaged. In media res skips this entirely.

Of course, people naturally pay attention when something important is happening. A sword fight, a collapsing tunnel, a chase across rooftops, or a diplomatic disaster immediately focuses attention. Players begin asking questions, making decisions, and interacting with the world.

No need to earn engagement, you start with it.

The opening of Breaking Bad, a great example of In Media Res

Perfect for One-Shots

Convention and conference games live under a constant enemy: time. If you have a four-hour session, spending the first forty-five minutes introducing characters, explaining why they are together, and persuading them to pursue the adventure can feel wasteful. If you only have one or two hours this is an even bigger loss of time. Starting in media res allows you to get to the interesting part immediately.

Let’s consider two versions of the same adventure.

Traditional Opening

The players arrive in town. After talking to a few villagers they meet the mayor. They learn about the missing blacksmith. As a group the party moves from location to location gathering clues. Finally they decide to investigate the nearby ruins.

In Media Res Opening

The players are already inside the ruins. A dark ritual has begun led by a figure wearing a deer skull on its head. Distraught, the blacksmith hangs from chains above a blood stained sacrificial altar. Hooded cultists are chanting, working themselves into a frenzy. What do they do?

While of course I have gone a little over the top with these examples, which one has the most impact? With the second one I’m already picturing the scene and I’m thinking of ways to save the Blacksmith. And I’m not even playing the game.

For conference games, where players may never have met each other before and may only have a few hours available, this can dramatically improve the experience. In this case, every minute spent adventuring is a minute well spent.

Questions Instead Answers

As a Dungeon Master it’s easy to feel like you need to explain everything before play can begin. Give the players context to what is going on. Provide hints as to who the bad guys might be.

In reality though, curiosity is often more powerful than explanation. When players find themselves in the middle of a situation, they naturally want to understand how they got there. This encourages active engagement with the story.

Rather than saying:

“You are transporting the Holy Reliquary to the capital.”

You can begin with:

“The rune covered relic case slips from the back of the wagon and tumbles towards the cliff edge.”

The players immediately understand something important is happening. Details can emerge later through conversation, flashbacks, or discoveries.

Stronger Character Introductions

Many groups spend significant time introducing characters one at a time. I admit, I always make my players do this at the beginning of each campaign or one-shot. While this can work well, it often creates an awkward period where players describe their characters while everyone else waits.

An action-focused opening allows personalities to emerge through behaviour. You learn more about a character when:

  • The paladin dives into danger to protect civilians.
  • The rogue immediately looks for an escape route.
  • The wizard casts fireball in the small room.
  • The barbarian charges the enemy leader.

Players often discover who their characters truly are by playing them rather than describing them.

Building Momentum for a New Campaign

While in media res is excellent for one-shots, it can also be highly effective when launching a long-term campaign. Campaign openings carry a lot of responsibility. They must introduce the world, establish themes, and make players care about what happens next.

Starting with action provides immediate momentum. The opening scene becomes the spark that ignites the campaign. Perhaps the party survives a shipwreck that strands them on an unknown continent. Or they witness the assassination of a king. These events create shared experiences that bond the party together from the outset. Instead of beginning with a reason to adventure, the adventure itself creates the reason.

The Secret Advantage: Shared History

One challenge in roleplaying games is answering the question:

“Why are these characters working together?”

More often than not we hand wave this away. Or, create a convoluted reason for everyone to cooperate. An in media res opening can solve this problem elegantly.

Simply begin with the assumption that the characters have already accepted the mission. The details can be filled in later. This allows the group to establish a shared history almost immediately. After surviving a goblin ambush, escaping a prison, or stealing a magical artifact together, the party already has a common story. Nothing builds camaraderie like surviving a crisis.

A Useful Technique: Flashbacks

One concern DMs often have is that players may miss important background information. Flashbacks provide a simple solution.

Once the opening action has concluded, you can briefly jump backwards in time. Paint the Picture questions can really help with this.

“Three days earlier, how did each of you end up taking this job?”

“Before the heist began, what role did your character play in the planning?”

These short scenes allow players to contribute details to the story while preserving the excitement of the opening. You get all the benefits of backstory without sacrificing momentum.

A Word of Caution

Starting in media res works best when players still have meaningful choices. Avoid opening with long sequences where outcomes are predetermined.

For example:

“You are all captured. You cant escape. Now let me explain what happens next.”

This removes agency and can frustrate players. Railroading like this can really sour the game. Instead, place the characters in a difficult situation but allow their decisions to shape the outcome. The excitement comes from uncertainty.

Players should feel like protagonists, not passengers.

Final Thoughts

Starting a game in media res is one of the simplest ways to increase energy, engagement, and momentum at the table. For one-shots and convention games, it helps you make the most of limited time by getting players into the action immediately. For campaign launches, it creates memorable shared experiences that bind characters together and establish the tone of the adventure.

The next time you prepare a game, resist the temptation to begin with a lengthy briefing or a tavern conversation.

Instead, start with something exciting happening. Then look at your players and say the three words that every Dungeon Master loves to hear:

“What do you do?”

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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:

  1. Cold Open: Throw players straight into action—explosions, monsters, a chase. Skip the slow build.
  2. Middle Twist: Add a big revelation that flips the situation on its head.
  3. 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.

Everyone loves a good allien.

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.

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Bullets, Bandannas, and Beautiful Nonsense: Playing 80’s Action Dudes

There are roleplaying games where you carefully track encumbrance, calculate modifiers, and debate the tactics of which spell to cast first. And then there are games where you kick down a door, fire an assault rifle one-handed, and shout something so gloriously ridiculous that reality slaps your back and gives you your hit points back.

80’s Action Dudes, created by my mate Marty, lives proudly in the second category.

Welcome to the Jungle (Bring a Soundtrack)

From the moment we sat down, the tone was locked in harder than a flexed bicep in a sleeveless vest. An 80s rock soundtrack blared in the background, all electric guitars and swagger, the kind of music that makes you feel like you could outrun an explosion purely out of principle. Marty had curated the perfect soundtrack with bands like Poison, Whitesnake and Boston, that had us all ready to play before we even created our characters.

It only took Marty 2 minutes to explain the system of 80’s Action Dudes, a clever hack of Cthulhu Dark by Graeme Walmsley. Different dice for different guns (D4, D6, D10) and the dice didn’t tell you if you hit. No way. They told you how many people you took out of action.

We came to kick ass and chew gum, and we were all out gum. Oh and we had three hit points.

Character Creation: Maximum Velocity, Zero Brakes

Character creation was also quick and easy. You needed:

  • A cool name
  • A main weapon
  • A one line description
  • Some special kit

That’s it. Vibes and testosterone.

Enter my character:

Rusty MacGregor
Ex–French Foreign Legionnaire. American as fuck.

Armed with his trusty assault rifle, razor sharp machete, and a tin of chewing tobacco, Rusty also sported a stars and stripes bandanna across his ruggedly handsome brow and was ready for action.

The Action Dude Team… you get the picture

The Crew: The Action Team

Our team was exactly what you’d hope for:

  • A Chinese ninja who moved like a shadow deadly throwing stars at the ready
  • A bare-knuckle fighter built like Van Damme with mad nunchuck skills
  • A mad radioman “Giggles”
  • Two M60 armed musclemen Rip and Butch.

Together, we were dropped into a jungle with one mission:

Take out a camp of commie insurgents. No diplomacy. Just kicking ass and shooting guns.

Mechanics That Punch You in the Face (In a Good Way)

The genius of the game wasn’t just in its theme, it was in how the mechanics fed that theme. Marty had got the balance just right.

Grenades? You didn’t roll for them. You physically threw balls into a bucket. Missed the bucket? Bad luck. That grenade is now someone else’s problem. Hit it? Boom. Cue cheering, high-fives, and a slow-motion dive.

We even had a proper mud map laid out in the garden adding to the immersion of our grand tactical planning.

Mud map ready for our Action Dudes to plan their assault

Now here’s where the game transcends even further. When you took wounds, you didn’t just sit there and sulk like an unpatriotic man baby. You earned them back the only way that matters:

One-liners.

Drop something suitably punchy, and you’d claw back your health.

Something in the spirit of Arnie and Stallone, like:

“I eat Green Berets for breakfast. And right now, I’m very hungry!”

Alternatively, you could clasp hands with a teammate, lock eyes like long-lost brothers, and bellow:

“SON OF A BITCH!”

Instant recovery to full hit points!

Action dude HP recovery

Scenes That Shouldn’t Work (But Absolutely Do)

What followed was a cascade of moments that felt ripped straight out of an Expendables fever dream:

  • Rusty leaping from a creek firing into enemy reinforcements
  • The ninja appearing and disappearing like a lethal magic trick
  • Grenades arcing through the air with varying degrees of success and panic
  • Entire squads of enemies being removed from existence in single, glorious dice rolls
  • The ammo dump exploding in a tongue of flame
  • Rusty dying in a blaze of glory at the helm of a Russian attack helicopter (dont ask)

It was loud, chaotic and deeply, deeply … fun!

Why It Works

At its core, 80’s Action Dudes is a masterclass in one simple idea:

Commit to the bit.

The rules are light, but laser-focused. Every mechanic pushes you to be louder, bigger, and more ridiculous. There’s no room for hesitation, only escalation. And because everyone understands the tone, the table becomes a kind of shared action movie, where each player tries to outdo the last in sheer action-hero bravado.

The result? Eight grown adults laughing like lunatics while throwing pretend grenades and inventing increasingly terrible one-liners.

What it’s all about

Final Thoughts: Explosions Optional (But Encouraged)

What this game proves, more than anything, is that you don’t need complexity to create something unforgettable.

  • Give players a strong theme.
  • Give them permission to go all in.
  • Add a few clever mechanics that reinforce the fantasy.

Then stand back and watch the magic happen. 80’s Action Dudes wasn’t just a game., it was a riot. And Marty was an absolute legend for pulling together such a memorable game.

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When Rival Parties Enter the Dungeon: Competition and Time Pressure

Most of the time when we think of Dungeons & Dragons, we picture a single party of adventurers delving into a dungeon, working together, fighting monsters, and uncovering treasure. But what if there were two rival parties competing for the same goal, racing against each other in real time?

I first came across this idea listening to the excellent podcast Fear of a Black Dragon, where presenter Tom McGrenery described running the Dungeon Crawl Classics adventure Piercing the Demon’s Eye for two groups at the same time. It sounded chaotic, exhilarating, and utterly brilliant.

So of course, I had to try it.

Did it work? Read on to find out.

Two DMs, Two Rival Parties

Together with my fellow DM Rich, we set up a dungeon crawl for ten friends. The twist? Instead of one unwieldy group of ten, we’re splitting them into two rival parties, entering the dungeon (Piercing the Demons Eye) five minutes apart.

The rules of engagement are simple:

  • The dungeon closes in four real-time hours. When the clock hits zero, the dungeon magically shuts. Any characters still in there are trapped, experiencing a slow and agonizing death.
  • The party with the most loot wins. If they make it out in time.
  • We’ll keep tension high with regular real-time countdowns, making every decision feel urgent. One player from each team will be designated time keeper, reminding their team mates to keep moving, or to escape.
  • On top of that, we’re borrowing a mechanic from Blades in the Dark: each time a spell is cast, a clock ticks forward. When it fills, something catastrophic is unleashed into the dungeon.

It’s part dungeon crawl, part pressure cooker, part competitive sport.

What Does This Have to Do With Leadership?

At first glance, this might just sound like a fun twist on D&D (and it absolutely will be). But it’s also a fascinating experiment in leadership under stress. Competition changes everything. When you know another team is out there grabbing treasure, time suddenly becomes your most precious resource. Leaders in the group will have to:

  • Prioritize quickly: Is it worth taking that side passage, or should we push deeper?
  • Manage risk: Do we burn spells now, advancing faster but bringing the catastrophic clock closer to midnight?
  • Balance the team’s needs: Some players may want to fight everything. Others may want to sneak past. Good leadership will mean finding the middle path without wasting precious time.

These dynamics mirror real-world leadership challenges.

Similar scenarios could be run as part of a leadership training exercise. Imagine putting your aspiring leaders through these:

  • Two groups of scavengers in a zombie apocalypse racing to loot supplies before winter. Only one settlement will thrive.
  • Rival companies bidding for the same contract, knowing only one can succeed.
  • Disaster response teams in a crisis where resources are shared between teams and time is brutally limited.

In each case, leaders need to stay calm, make rapid but thoughtful decisions, and keep their team united under pressure.

All of these scenarios can be run using my simple, easy to run Play to Lead ruleset.

Why This Works for Leadership Training

What makes games like this so effective for leadership development is that they feel real. As Jennifer Ouellette explains in Me, Myself, and Why, our brains encode roleplaying experiences as though they genuinely happened. That means when you practice making tough calls, prioritizing under pressure, and communicating clearly in a D&D dungeon, you’re exercising the same leadership “muscles” you’ll use in the workplace.

Adding competition into the mix elevates the stakes. The stress is simulated, but the feelings of urgency, pressure, and rivalry are real enough to create meaningful growth.

Bringing It Back to Work

If you want to use this kind of scenario in a leadership training environment, here are some tweaks:

  • Theme it for your group: Instead of fantasy loot, consider one of the alternative scenarios mentioned above.
  • Make consequences clear: Limited time, limited resources, and a final score that determines success or failure.
  • Encourage reflection afterwards: The real learning happens when teams debrief what worked, what didn’t, and how leadership showed up under pressure.
The happy participants!

Running the Game

What a blast to run! Rich had booked a community hall for the event. Everyone was primed to bring two 5E D&D characters, just in case. First we used a dice bag with coloured dice to randomly assign the teams. After explaining the premise we set the 4 hour timer and we were off.

Rich and I passed each other notes as the adventurers made their way through the dungeon. The players tables were facing each other so they were always aware of the rival party and their progress. Some of the highlights from the game were:

  • One party coming upon the other and sending an owl to trail them.
  • The first party setting traps for the second.
  • One party battling for their lives, the second popped their head in the room before beating a hasty exit.
  • The slow realisation that casting spells had an impact on the dungeon clock, but not knowing quite what it was counting down to.
  • One player sifting through the treasure horde and throwing unwanted bits into oblivion.

The teams were going to be judged by how much treasure they retrieved. So I made a series of treasure cards describing what they found, but with no value written on them. At the end of the session we totaled up the value of the rescued valuables to determine a winner. There was only 100gp between the two parties!

That being said noone actually made it out alive……

This photo shows our set up. DMs back to back, the bright yellow clock countdown to the left.

Did it Work?

Absolutely it did! The players really got into the premise of the game and told us it was a completely different experience to anything else they had played. There was great banter between the tables and the debrief dinner afterwards was great fun as they pieced together what each rival party had been up to.

Rich and I worked really well as a team. Luckily we had done a load of prep before hand so we knew the module well and how we were going to handle different parts of it. Passing notes between ourselves also added additional paranoia to the players. Always a win.

One interesting thing was that the players actually engaged with the adventure faster then we though they would. Between the two teams they covered every room and trap. This is a good lesson for next time.

I also made a mistake where my group were moving much faster than the others and caught them up without me realising. So we had two parties in the same place at the same time without seeing each other. Woops. Not to worry though, once I’d worked it out I managed to stall my guys long enough for it all to settle out again.

Final Thoughts

In the end, this experiment is both a thrilling way to play D&D and a powerful way to test leadership under competition and time stress. When two parties enter the dungeon, only one comes out on top—but everyone comes out having had a different and fun experience.

If this sort of thing appeals to you I would strongly suggest grabbing a co-DM and running this for your friends. It was a memorable event for everyone, with lots of pressure, paranoia and of course laughter.