Playing Cards and Poker Hands as a Substitute for Dice Rolls in TTRPGs

Late last year, I was nearing the end of my first ever playthrough of Dave the Diver (which I absolutely loved, by the way) when I became obsessed with a surprisingly in-depth poker minigame in the Sea People Village. I can probably count the amount of real poker games I’ve played on one hand, but something about this game instantly had me hooked (or harpooned, if you will). It was a fast-paced, addictive roguelike with unique art and mechanics embedded in an otherwise unrelated fishing game, and I was enthralled.

I found myself playing constantly: when I was bored, procrastinating, or just in need of something to do with my hands. One night, while on a call with a friend, I excitedly streamed my gameplay to her. “I wish I could play more than just these few levels,” I complained. “There’s no way they built out this whole system for such a small part of the game.”

She laughed in disbelief. “That’s literally just Balatro. How have you never heard of Balatro?”

Embarrassed, I bickered with her for a few seconds and then promptly rushed to Steam to download the full game. Ever since, I’ve logged… well, let’s just say a probably unhealthy number of hours in Balatro. This sparked in me a short-lived obsession with poker and other playing card games, but, as with pretty much everything in my life, it also made me think, “How can I make this about TTRPGs?”

After all, the friend who told me about Balatro was also the DM for our late D&D campaign and a player in my gone-but-not-forgotten Call of Cthulhu campaign. Ever since moving for college (and some friend group break-ups along the way), I’ve missed playing TTRPGs with her. We’re always looking for new ways to play and, perhaps more importantly, new players. However, most people who’ve never played any TTRPGs don’t have D20s lying around, and games like D&D aren’t exactly the most accessible or exciting for newcomers. So what might make the start-up cost lower and process faster?

Well, as I was thumbing through a crisp new deck of butterfly-themed cards I bought as a little park souvenir yesterday (my mom insisted), I realized a standard deck of playing cards could be a great option. They’re equally (if not more) widely available than six-sided dice and just as easy to use and understand, but their variety of suits and ranks also allows for more customization and nuance.

I’m convinced I’ve heard of a homebrew TTRPG system like this before, but I think it was in a Tumblr post, and I can’t find it with a Google search. However, I did find some full-fledged games that use playing cards (thanks to forum users here and here, as well as this comprehensive list that I will definitely be referring to in the future)!

In Castle Falkenstien, each suit represents different skills and magic types, while ranks act as skill modifiers. Outside of combat, players have hands of four cards, meaning they can view their successes (or lack thereof) ahead of time and choose which card to play. This system also limits their actions; for example, if you have a hand of clubs in a situation that requires charisma (represented by spades), you’re out of luck. However, this can also inspire creative problem-solving and fun scenarios: Maybe you can’t talk your way out of the situation, but you can try fighting your way out!

This now-archived Reddit post outlines a similar ruleset, although each suit represents different skills (more akin to D&D skills). Face cards are used for randomized character creation, while number cards are used for skill checks. Unlike in Castle Falkenstien, players only draw 1-3 cards at a time, depending on their skill level (as determined by the face cards). Taking damage gives disadvantage to a skill associated with a face card.

To me, where this rules-lite system really shines is in its optional rules. The use of face-down cards as a dungeon map with random encounters calls to mind dice stacking mechanics in some homebrew dice-based games, and the optional Joker rules remind me, of course, of Balatro.

Perhaps one of the most exciting parts of Balatro is discovering the rules and perks added by each new Joker, and it’s always reminded me of Mao, a card game introduced to me by my high school choir director. Not explaining the rules of Mao is the whole point of the game, so it would feel almost sacrilegious to post them here, but, point being, the idea of a card-based TTRPG with hidden rules and a similar feeling of discovery is interesting to me. While perhaps the point of a card-based TTRPG is to be rules-lite, the opposite—a ton of rules and number-crunching, which usually isn’t my thing in RPGs, but I love it in Balatro—could also play into the roleplay aspect and inspire wacky social scenarios like those that might arise in systems like Castle Falkenstien.

However, like in most TTRPGs, the majority of these rules would come into play in combat. Players and NPCs would draw numbered cards for initiative. Then, the GM would blindly deal cards to each player and themself, with the hand size depending on the amount of players, and players would take turns playing poker hands. This could be played like a real game of poker, in which the winning hand is victorious and earns points that represent health, combat progress, damage to enemies, etc. Alternatively, like in Balatro, players could simply play poker hands to meet a point goal (damage to the enemies) set by the GM within a certain number of rounds (before they die to enemy attacks). Points could be tallied on paper as in most RPGs, or physical chips, dice, or even real money could be used.

I like the idea of using suits to represent different skills, and I think The Anywhere RPG (the Reddit post I discussed before) has a good balance—although hearts might not be very useful in combat, unless you’re playing the equivalent of a D&D bard or warlock. However, I also like the alternative idea of using suits to represent unintended consequences, whether positive or negative. I’m imagining a system similar to Star Wars RPG (FFG)’s narrative dice, in which players can succeed but with setbacks, or fail at their intended goal but succeed in something else.

For example, if a character is trying to sneak around in an action RPG, a Ten of Spades would be a great success (in most situations) because of its rank, but the suit might mean the character gets slightly injured in the process. As another example, in a sci-fi RPG, a Three of Hearts might mean failure for a dreadnought captain trying to navigate through an asteroid belt, but at least their alien crush thinks they look super hot as the ship is crashing.

I don’t have anything near a full system built out, especially for the poker-based combat, but maybe I’ll create one in a future post. For now, I’m going to brainstorm and enjoy testing out some existing card-based RPGs… if I can convince any of my friends to join me. Come on, you don’t even have to buy dice!

The Infinite (Actually) Possibilities of Grant Howitt's RP6

 Ever since I learned about Grant Howitt’s one-page TTRPGs from the actual-play podcast Dungeons and Daddies (about which I have many future blog posts up my sleeve), my friends and I have been obsessed.

The Witch is Dead, a game about familiars avenging their murdered master, was my best friend’s first experience GMing and resulted in a hilarious high-speed carriage chase with the witch hunter (who was also a sandwich hunter in the nearby sandwich-making village’s annual ingredient scavenger hunt). Goat Crashers, a D6-only game about goats sneaking into a human party, was my family’s introduction to TTRPGs. I rolled for a random setting, and my brother’s goat ended up eating quite literally everything in a Cthulhu-worshipping, bioweapon bootlegging Jay Gatsby’s house, including the anthrax tanks he was selling under the table.

Howitt has countless amazing RPGs, and I highly recommend them, even the ones I haven’t tried myself—and I do want to try them all. However, when browsing his itch.io for games to run while I’m home for winter break, his latest RPG, aptly named RP6, caught my eye.

In the past, my friends and I have tried creating our own fully homebrew role-playing systems, but we’ve always ended up pulling rules from larger systems we run in our primary campaigns, like Dungeons & Dragons and Call of Cthulhu. We usually default to rolling D20s and loosely basing all combat on D&D, despite most of the players (myself included) disliking the slow pace of D&D combat.

With RP6, I think Howitt has created the perfect D6-only one-shot system. Before sitting down to write this post, I spent quite a while thinking through all the possibilities presented by Howitt’s example genres and rules alone, as well as what my players might choose. Almost any open-ended TTRPG has endless replay value, but RP6 has no preset setting or magic system; you and your players can create something wildly different from every previous game, every time. I can genuinely imagine RP6 being the only system I use to run one-shots with my friends.

However, some players do want more to work with, especially first-time players. With my family, for example, I initially tried running a D&D one-shot, but they were overwhelmed by all the options and the planning required before the game could actually start. Since they’d never played any TTRPGs before, though, I wouldn’t use RP6 as a starting point, either; the open-endedness of collective worldbuilding bound only by genre would likely overwhelm them, too. Howitt’s more structured RPGs ended up being perfect for them, and now that they have more experience, I’m considering running an RP6 game with them, too.

Initially, I had gripes with the dice rolling mechanic. A 6 being the only way to succeed without consequences felt too difficult. However, after reading some of Howitt’s examples of ways to “persuade the GM” for positive modifiers and rolling some dice while thinking through possible situations, I realized this mechanic is actually pretty well-balanced, as long as it’s used fairly.

For example, if a player rolled a 4 to redirect a spaceship but explained that their character is the ship’s pilot, as GM, I would definitely accept and give them +1 to their roll. However, if they explained that their character piloted a ship once somewhere in their backstory, never mentioned before that their character knows how to pilot a ship, and are clearly just making it up on the spot to succeed… I probably wouldn’t give it to them (unless they looked really pitiful and bribed me with a cookie or something).

My only suggestion—yes, literally just one—would be to give players whose result is above 6 more than just a clean success; it should go better than they had even hoped. For example, if the player is the pilot (+1) and rolled a 6 to redirect the spaceship, they are lucky enough to fly even better than usual, maybe even diverting the enemy ship hot on their trail into a debris field while the players escape scot-free.

For the optional rule about injuries, I’d also suggest adding GM persuasion: Maybe the player’s character is shot and the GM rolls a 6, meaning the player would be out of the game, but the player reminds the GM their player is a prepper who’s constantly wearing a bulletproof vest, or maybe their character has yet to confess their love to an NPC and is really convincing about their right to stay alive until they can accomplish that goal. Of course, the GM and players could workshop this idea with specific modifiers for their own game.

I haven’t actually run an RP6 game yet, but I’m absolutely thrilled by all its possibilities. Maybe my friends and I could pick up our failed homebrew Twilight parody RPG again, or maybe I’ll suggest a genre and a couple of rule ideas to my family as a starting point to give them more structure. Whatever I start with, I plan to write an update post after winter break with how it went and any other suggestions for other GMs/players!

Farming Sim Games and the Necessity of Marriage

Farming life simulator games are among today’s most popular cozy games, following the success of Stardew Valley, an expansive indie farming game inspired by Nintendo’s long-running Story of Seasons series. It prompted not only Stardew Valley’s creation, but also many of its mechanics: farming, mining, fishing, foraging, and, of course, marriage.

Romance has become a key feature of farming sims, with many indie developers using their games’ attractive, eligible characters as a selling point. However, romantic storylines and marriage options aren’t just bonus content to draw in players; they are often central to the gameplay itself.

One of the earliest Story of Seasons games, Harvest Moon: A Wonderful Life, originally released in 2003, follows the player character from humble beginnings as a single farmer to his eventual son’s adulthood (and, yes, the player character and his son can only be male in the original version of this game; an entirely separate “girl version” of the game, Harvest Moon: Another Wonderful Life, was released the following year). In order to have that son and for the game to progress, the player has to get married. If you don’t propose to one of the eligible female characters by the end of the first in-game year, the one you have the best relationship with proposes to you. If you reject her, it’s an immediate game over.

Similarly, in Harvest Moon: Seeds of Memories, many “memories” (necessary for full completion of the game) require getting married and having kids.

Other Story of Seasons games aren’t so limiting, but marriage is still a core aspect of the gameplay, and players are incentivized to pursue it. Befriending an eligible character can lead to them becoming romantically interested in you, and you might feel urged to put a ring on it before another NPC does, since romantic rivals exist in several games throughout this series. Marriage offers in-game advantages like anniversary gifts and new dialogue/events.

Even now, with countless Stardew Valley-inspired games that allow new options like non-male player characters and queer romantic relationships, this emphasis on marriage as a game mechanic is still heavily felt in the farming sim space. In Sun Haven, players can receive unique and considerably powerful armor and weapons from the characters they date and marry. In Littlewood, dating and marriage earn you additional Dewdrops, the game’s primary currency.

Even in Stardew Valley itself, spouses offer the gameplay advantage of giving the player gifts and helping with labor on the farm. However, Stardew Valley also has something that, to my knowledge, no other well-known farming sim does: a non-romantic equivalent.

In addition to the six bachelors and six bachelorettes the player can choose to pursue, there is also the option to befriend Krobus, the shadow person vendor who lives in the sewers below town. Being a monster, unlike the twelve human options, Krobus comes from a presumably aromantic culture (since living together platonically—and not out of necessity—is canonically commonplace for shadow people) and isn’t available to marry, but you can ask him to live with you as a platonic roommate.

While Krobus can’t help out with chores around the farm due to his species’ aversion to the sun, he still offers most of the practical advantages of a spouse: giving the player gifts and a Stardrop, changing the furniture, and even caring for the player’s children from any previous marriages. He has unique dialogue just like any spouse, too, meaning any player who chooses to play the game entirely without romance isn’t missing out on a vital part of the experience or at any kind of technical disadvantage.

Krobus may show his affection through hugs instead of kisses and smiley faces instead of hearts, but choosing to live with him is never discouraged or made less valuable than marriage; it’s simply a different option.

Cozy games, a genre I’d say has a largely queer playerbase, and farming sims in particular have increasingly embraced queer players and relationships in recent years. Most games, including even recent Story of Seasons titles, allow players to marry any eligible NPC regardless of gender, and Fields of Mistria has a long list of pronoun options for player characters. However, there is little consideration given to aromantic players, and even less representation of aromantic characters, since all single adult characters are considered romanceable in most farming sims (although Stardew Valley is notably not one of them).

People often assume that queer inclusivity necessitates romance, but it can also be about a lack of romance. I think the inclusion of Krobus in Stardew Valley is a positive step toward aromantic inclusivity (and for anyone who might not be interested in in-game marriage, or even people who just enjoy Krobus as a character—myself included), and I wish more games inspired by Stardew Valley had taken inspiration from Krobus, too.

Besides, he’s just pretty cool.