ADRIAN ARCOLEO

Beavermancer@duck.com








Tags: HMtW, Random Tables, Mortal Now You Are God




Your Wombats are Boring!

or

Why your combat environments in His Majesty should be dynamic and interactable
Category 
HMtW 



The thoughts below are considerations I have had while in the concept Phase of a lethal mech hack for the combat system in His Majesty the Worm. The mech system is intended to be a combat focused system that takes advantage of His Majesty the Worm’s dynamic and involved combat system. I have been playing a few sessions of Lancer lately and while I enjoy the system writ large, I have become increasingly frustrated with the pace of play and the five hour long combats our group has been experiencing. I am tentatively labeling my project as Souls Weighed Down by Gravity to credit the main inspiration: Gundam. The combat system I will develop for this project will also inform the ranged combat rules being developed for my other project His Majesty the Atom, which, in turn, is being influenced by Labjer from the His Majesty the Worm discord and their work on a ranged combat hack. 

I credit Castella from the His Majesty the Worm discord for much of the original thought and theory below, I am merely an agent of synthesis and analysis who has briefly expanded on the thoughts and applied my hypothesized solution to addressing player frustrations. Very little of this conversation will be novel to the veteran blog consumer, but the context the ideas are presented in are as new as the game itself. I claim any and all terrible opinions stated or otherwise inferred below.

Wombat

The dynamic combat system of His Majesty the Worm is a vast improvement over the legacy turn-per-initiative system of the predominant ttrpg systems from previous decades. Gone are the days where a player must wait 30 minutes (or more!) for their turn to come around and they get to play the game again! Huzzah!

This is hyperbolic, of course, but His Majesty the Worm’s use of tarot cards as a card-based method of combat resolution is a substantial deviation from the more traditional legacy combat resolution systems. With big changes comes big adjustments and some players have a hard time making that adjustment, at least at first. However, based on these struggles, game masters can make adjustments to mitigate possible frustrations.

The worm combat system (I will be calling it the Wombat system) has two distinct adjustments that players must consider: The differences between declare-then-roll and roll-then-declare, and the Suit-as-options limitations on minor actions.

Declare-then-roll vs Roll-then-declare

The first major change players must grapple with is the change from a declare-then-roll method to a roll-then-declare method of action adjudication. In the former a player decides what they want to do and then consults the bones to determine if the action is successful. If the dice roll bad then fate has intervened and at least we can say we tried our best but it was not to be. 

In the latter, however, you consult fate to determine the outcomes first and then place the outcomes where they make the most sense. In Wombat, this means you are drawing cards and have to decide how those cards can best be used based not only on the value but also on the suit of the card.

While both methods have the same components (deciding on an action, random number generation, and action adjudication), the order has an important psychological effect. In a declare-then-roll system, a player feels in control - the player decided the action and it was fate that foiled them. In a roll-then-declare system, the player feels less in control because they may want to attack but their desire is foiled by the values they rolled - they know ahead of time that an attack would fail or would be likely to fail.

I posit that this perspective is a failure in framing. It should be explained, and players should understand, that there is functionally no difference in attacking then rolling a one and rolling a one and then deciding to attack. They both will fail. The strength of the Wombat system is that you are an oracle of fate - you know the results already so you can instead focus on doing actions that will have impact rather than wasting effort on actions destined to fail. 

Is Suits-as-Options a limitation of Wombats system or a strength?

The Second mindset change is the use of cards for random number generation instead of dice. This is especially distinct to Wombat in that it's unlikely players will have been exposed to a card-based ttrpg before. While the drawing of a card to randomly generate a number isn't difficult to wrap one's mind around, the use of suits in Wombat to determine what actions are available to a player is a much larger shift in mindset that necessitates an adaptation by both players and game masters.

Wombat consists of two action types, a major action and a minor action. Both types of actions share the same pool of possible options, but with different restrictions in place. The major action occurs on the player's initiative turn and has the player's character in control of the combat - they can do any action with any card, and can add their stat bonuses to any action they take. They are, quite literally, taking the initiative at that moment. The minor action, on other hand, happens after another player's (or DM creature's) initiative turn and before the next initiative turn. The minor action carries additional restrictions. A minor action has to match the suit of the card, and the player cannot add their stat bonuses. For example, a player must play a card with the suit of Swords card to attack as a minor action. This can best be framed as the player character not being in control of the situation when taking a minor action, they are responding to someone else, quite literally, taking the initiative.

However, from a player perspective, the suit restrictions for minor actions can be a double-whammy of restricting their agency. Not only does a player have to grapple with the change to a roll-then-declare system, they are then told that their pool of possible actions is cut by a fourth with any given drawn result. A player may draw a three of Cups and wonder what the heck they are supposed to do with that! 

This is an understandable frustration. Nobody likes having their turn come around in any game and having no idea what they are supposed to be doing to help the situation. But, it should be explained that this is a feature, not a bug, of Wombat. The variation in suits forces players to think dynamically and to interact with their environments and the dungeon denizens more creatively. Anyone can trip an enemy, or use an item, or intimidate their foes. Wombat's restrictions on minor actions keeps combats from being a slugfest.

Interactable Environments are Necessary for Good Wombats

With the above mentioned mental adjustments in mind, game masters who are using Wombat therefore have an even larger responsibility than in legacy systems to create interesting environments where players might interact. Game masters must reinforce that Wombat combats can and should be dynamic by providing an interactable arena for players that includes obstacles, traps, usable items, obtuse terrain, and anything else their wicked mind can conjure. This isn’t to say that every keyed room in a dungeon needs an obstacle course of traps or a dozen precarious pillars to be toppled. A game master should still create rooms that fit in the narrative and an “empty room” is still a vital tool to manage the pace of play. Sometimes a storage room needs to be a storage room, but game masters should consider what is in that storage room, and what could be laying around to be grabbed or pushed over.

You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink is as true for giving players options as it is for thirsty horses. Players will weigh the pros and cons of their actions and choose whether to interact with an environment or not. Players will also see a situation as a nail and their sword as the appropriate hammer to solve it. If a game master is frustrated that they put in the effort to create interesting environments only for their players to refuse to interact with that environment, then game masters can interact with it themselves. Goblins are just as capable of cutting the rope to drop the chandelier as player characters are. Once you drop a telegraphed chandelier on a player, you can be damned sure that they won’t let it happen twice. In fact, they’ll be eager to do it to someone else.

Another piece of advice is to not sweat the circumstances if they don’t work out in a way that creates an interesting combat. I once had a combat in His Majesty the Worm where we players were trudged up the side of a precarious mountain pass with ropes and pitons being the only thing that stopped us from falling to our deaths. Just as we were halfway across the pass, however, the game master pulled on the Meatgrinder table and revealed the random encounter: four ghosts from the ancient past that still haunt the dungeon valley we were traversing. The ghosts couldn’t interact with our ropes to endanger us, and the ghosts had no ropes for us to interact with to endanger them. It was the worst possible encounter we could have drawn for that particular environment (when considering how to have an interesting Wombat environment). However, that encounter still had narrative impact, even if neither party could exploit the precarious circumstances to our advantage. Shit happens and we have to roll with it.

An added point is that there can still be frustrations with Wombat when it comes to facedown cards. While it is absolutely true that a player has options when they draw a bad hand, a player can only play a single facedown card at a time. If a player already has a facedown card in place, especially a valuable one they want to keep, then this can be a further restriction of options. A player can’t riposte with an ace of swords as a bluff if they already have an aid played facedown waiting for its trigger. I don’t have an answer to this particular challenge; more thought is needed here.

A final piece of advice is to quote Josh McCrowell, the writer for His Majesty the Worm, on the combat resolution system. You can get good at the combat system and “players who put in the due diligence to learn the tactics underlying the [combat system] will have a lot of fun.“

I love this game and I hope you do too!










MORTAL, NOW YOU ARE GOD: 

Part 1

A Chariot Sub-System, Ostensibly for His Majesty the Worm
Category 
HMtW, Mortal Now You Are God 



I was recently reading through Tanith Lee’s The Birthgrave (1975) which has a dramatic depiction of a chariot race known as the Sagare through which the charioteers and their archer companion must ride through four obstacles that take the form of the elements Earth--a wall with narrow entrances; Air--large holes bored in the ground; Water-- powerful geysers that can maim man and horse, as well as soak bowstrings; and Fire--towers of fire and tar that spook horses and allow cover for shenanigans in the smoke. The main character feels herself lashed to the suicidal need of her lover to compete in the Sagare and gets caught up in a side-plot to avenge their charioteering mentor whose body was smashed by one of the competitors. 

The whole thing plays out dramatically as a well-to-do nobleman offers to buy the stolen loot off the band of miscreants that make up the main character’s party, at nearly double the going rate, if only the bandit king would be willing to ride in the Sagare with the nobleman’s specially bred team of horses. It was a web of motives: The Nobleman could care less for the money, he is jockeying for social status, he wants the fame and prestige of having provided for a winning team; the bandit king claims he is doing it to get a good price on the stolen goods, but it becomes clear he is mad for the thrill and glory of the games; the mentor is only involved to keep himself engaged in the sport he loves and to see his rival crushed into the sand, and the main character feels she needs to ride as her lovers archer because if she does not then he will die.

This inspired me to finally get around to watching Ben-Hur (1959) to see how the chariot race there is depicted. Both Ben-Hur and The Birthgrave touch on similar themes of celebrity and godhood, especially on the fickleness of fortune and fame. I also came away with this interesting impression that the chariot races, whether in the Circus of Rome or the Sagare, are largely portrayed as duels between two individuals. The rest of the racers are color and obstacles to the real race between the Hero and the Villain (hell, even Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace (1999) touched on this aspect). Therefore I was inspired to create this subsystem for two reasons: First, because chariot racing is cool as hell. Humanity created chariots and for nigh on five millenia it was the fastest any human could move themselves until we created the steam engine. I grew up on NASCAR, we midwest boys have a need for speed. And Second, to explore more and different ways that humans in His Majesty the Worm can engage with their rivals (as well as the City at large).

This is the first part of possible adventure suppliment to facilitate chariot racing at everyone’s table. I drew heavy inspiration from the To Be Resolved blog and how my friend there is developing their own surveying ttrpg using poker as the basis to resolve tasks. You can find more on this system here and to their analysis of poker hand distributions here.


The Quadrigarium of the Hippodrome:

A poker hand consists of seven cards. So too are there seven racers in the Quadrigarium. However, a race, in reality, is a duel. Only two racers, our Duelists, really matter: The Adventurers and the Rival. The rest are obstacles, distractions, fodder, tools to be used in the pursuit of what really matters in the Hippodrome: Victory, Revenge, and Godhood. The highest poker hand between the Duelists determines who is in the lead for that lap and, on the seventh and final lap, who wins.

The Duelists each have their own hand, one controlled by the players and one controlled by the GM in place of the Rival. The Duelists begin the race with only two cards. The other five cards that make up the poker hand begin as communal cards which cannot be manipulated. Each communal card represents a racer from the far flung reaches of the world who thinks themselves a champion. However, this is not their story; their story ends as a smashed body in the bloody sands. The Duelists can spend a pair of matching cards from their hand to temporarily knock out a racer for the next lap, or spend two pairs to permanently knock a racer out for the rest of the race. Knocking a racer out of the race removes one communal card from the table and allows the Duelists to instead draw a card to their respective hands instead. The communal card returns to the next round unless the knockout is permanent. Additionally, a Duelist may spend a pair of matching cards to make the temporary removal of a racer by another Duelist permanent. Spending cards in this, or any other way, removes those cards from consideration for determining who leads any given lap. Communal cards may be spend by either of the Duelists and are afterwards removed from play as normal.


Only cards in the hand of the Duelists can be manipulated. Each Duelist starts the race with 7 Resolve which can be used to change the value or suite of any card in the Duelists’ own hand. Each Duelist may spend a Resolve by Taxing a part of their chariot team. A chariot team consists of 7 Taxable parts: the quadriga of horses (each being Taxed individually), the charioteer, the archer, and the chariot itself. Which part of the team is being taxed is largely a narrative concern - describing how the Duelists are jockeying for position. However, Duelists may target parts of the chariot team to hinder their ability to spend resolve as each part of a chariot team can only be Taxed once.


Fate resolves itself in funny ways upon the sands of the Hippodrome. It is expected in the Quadrigarium for Acts of the Gods to result in accidents. Most instances of treachery on the tracks are explained as such. A Duelist may target another Duelist by spending a five card hand (i.e. a straight, flush, full house, straight flush or a royal flush) to damage their chariot team in some way. Typically this means a harsh but recoverable injury. A three of a kind from a defending duelist can be spent to negate an effect through sheer luck, but a four of a kind results in a twist of fate that instead inflicts the wound upon the attacking Duelist. Explicit targeting of the team is typically illegal, however, Acts of the Gods can be explained away as long as it looks plausible. Archers typically special rope-tipped arrows, or other fanciful devices to hinder opponents for this purpose. All archers carry a barbed arrow, but this is never discussed. If a Deulist manages to win the final lap of the race with a five-card hand, they can choose to disable the other Duelist’s chariot in a suitably dramatic way.


Cheating is expected but only tolerated if you can get away with it. Any Duelist (and their supporting team) may spend any amount of additional resolve by Cheating. Any Duelist must narratively describe how they are cheating and then Test Fate (for His Majesty the Worm, otherwise a relevant system skill check) to determine if they are caught or not. To add to the dramatics, each Duelist is immediately aware of the other's cheating, and how they are cheating, even if they get away with it. Depending on the severity, getting caught typically means a reduction in the benefits gained from winning a race, a tax on losers of a race, or disqualification. 


The Quadrigarium ends after seven laps. Seven chariots. Seven laps. Seven hands of fate. A single team of mortals made into the people’s one true god… for the time being. 


Procedure of play:
  1. Hands are dealt to each of the duelists
  2. All communal cards are placed at once
  3. The Duelists spend any desired Resolve
  4. The Duelists spend any desired cards 
    • The players will typically have the first opportunity to act but in a moment in indecisiveness the Rival may intervene first
  5. The hands of the Duelists are revealed and position is determined
  6. Tally is made of all disabled racers
  7. GM and the players narrate the events of the lap together
  8. Return to part 1 until race is finished









Random Loot Table for His Majesty the Worm inspired by a trip to the Met’s Cloisters
Category 
HMtW, Random Tables


A friend and I had the opportunity to visit New York City and see the Met’s Cloisters exhibit. We visited in November of 2025 while they had a special exhibit on love, sex, and gender in the middle ages called Spectrum of Desire. The exhibit runs through March 29th 2026. My friend, a medievalist scholar studying exactly that highly recommends the exhibit (and the Cloisters more generally), as do I

We were inspired to create a table of items based on what we saw there specifically for His Majesty the Worm, to reinforce the Cult of Mythrys through artifacts rooted in the real experiences people in the middle ages had surrounding religion and courship. Just as the canon in the core rulebook should be discarded and changed as necessary, so should the “canon” implied by these artifacts be changed to suit your own needs.


  1. A finely carved ivory tablet showing the First Sacrifice of Mythrys but depicted as a woman.

  2. A diminutive prayer book expertly inlaid with intricate designs showing the many faces of the Monad, The One and Many (2"x3", veeery small).

  3. A reliquary shaped in the form of the limb from which the relic is presumed to come have come from (the finger of a saint takes the form of a cast golden hand and forearm, for example).

  4. Tapestry that changes designs every time it is rolled and unrolled. The imagery cycles through the many faces of Monad, The One and Many.

  5. A finely carved chess set, with each piece assuming one face of the Monad. The King is Mythrys and the Queen is his mother, Maiden Wisdom.

  6. A writing tablet meant for lovers exchanging secretive messages. The cover is an ivory carving of lovers promiscuously grabbing each other's belts. The interior tablets themselves are a thin ivory covered in a fine layer of wax which can be written into and erased with ease.

  7. A vessel, such as a pitcher or decanter, made of gold, depicting a... particularly virile beast of the Underworld.

  8. Architectural Frieze carved into a limestone brick showing The City before it assumed its current importantance.

  9. A well preserved set of playing cards. The typical suits are replaced with Dragon Lance (swords), Griffin Saddle (cups), Unicorn Tether (pentacles), Phoenixer's Gauntlet (Wands).

  10. The collar of a captured unicorn.

  11. A courtly belt embroidered with silver thread and golden enamel. These belts were often given to others as symbolic gestures but judging by the design it is unclear if this belt was intended to be given as a sign of loyalty, rank, rivalry, or love.

  12. A lost Bishop's Crozier, a sign of rank amongst the Cult of Mythrys and highly sought after as a symbol of legitimacy.

  13. A sumptuous depiction of Mythrys on wood panel embracing one of His first disciples.

  14. Triptych showing scenes in the life of Mythrys. His Birth, His Conversion, His Assumption.

  15. Strange wooden panel seeming to show Mythrys and the Monad as distinct, but complimentary, entities, heretical to the Single Nature imposed by the Cult of Mythrys.

  16. A well preserved leather bookbox containing a copy of a book in a language unknown to Man. Examining the illuminations makes it obvious these are the teachings of Mythrys.

  17. A pharmacy jar containing a strong, potent, and likely expired medicine. I wonder if it still works?

  18. A rolled canvas painting showing the XIV Secret Pope (or so the painting implies) kissing and embracing Mythrys long after His Assumption.

  19. A brass statuette of a scantily clad, androgynous Mythrys where their groin, breasts and lips are particularly polished.

  20. A small carved chest showing raunchy scenes not suitable for polite conversation. The contents Include fine examples of a ring, brooch, and comb that would make suitable gifts for courtship.

  21. A shattered stained glass scene that had once shown the 21 Sacrifices of Mythrys during His Conversion. Only three of the struggles remain intact.

    Magic Item addendum.
    - Reliquary limb, as above, but can be used to replace a missing limb, magically animating as a fully usable prosthetic.