Selva Lugana

Roll a realm and ride

Friction has always been the biggest monster sitting between me and my solo games, so over time I progressively eliminated every step and roll I didn't need in order to get started, deferring them until they're actually needed during play.

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The aim of what follows has always been to get me from thinking 'hey, I want to play Mythic Bastionland' to actually playing it with the least possible amount of friction, whether as a player or as a game-runner.

I play most of my Mythic Bastionland games solo, but I've tested these procedures and found they also work well for duet and group sessions; my group play usually doesn't involve more than three players.


The map of the Realm

I wisely started with a map, and made the story fit (generally with meticulous care for distances). The other way about lands one in confusions and impossibilities, and in any case it is weary work to compose a map from a story — as I fear you have found. (J.R.R.Tolkien, letter #144 to Naomi Mitchison, 25 April 1954)

I always like to start by creating a Realm, for two reasons. First, I appreciate imagining that this map is the only artefact my player(s) and I are armed with when approaching an unexplored land. Second, I've found that generating it - whether solo, or collaboratively in duet and group play - puts everyone in the right mental space for (h)exploration.

For Realm creation, I follow the procedure on page 14 of the Mythic Bastionland rules, working almost always off a 12×12 hex map, with a few differences:

That's it. No landmarks are rolled at this stage; I defer those until they're needed during play. The map is done, and I'm already wondering about what its geography can tell me about those living in it. That anticipation and those questions popping up in my mind effortlessly are my favourite sensation when it comes to ttrpg play.

The act of generating the map pleases me because it promotes emergent narrative from the get-go. For example, in a recent duet game, my player and I rolled a Realm that was mostly moist (lots and lots of marshes, wetlands, and lakes) but with one notable dry corner. My player immediately noticed that imbalance, and when the time came to place the Holdings, he was sure that the map's only dry corner would be the perfect spot for the Seat of Power. Not only that: the same imbalance got our creative juices flowing as we theorised what it might mean for the relationship between the Seat of Power and the other Holdings. This excited me to no end, because he was a player who had only ever played D&D 5e and had been held captive by the combat-focussed rules of that game up to that moment.

The Company

It's only after the map has been created that I roll (or have my player(s) roll) on the Knights table. I feel very strongly that Knights should be rolled and not chosen, but that's a personal preference, like the rest of the procedures in this writing, after all. We're all egocentric, in the best possible way, and I've found that rolling the Knight before the Realm makes me, or my player(s), focus too much on oneself instead of letting the mind wander to a distant, unknown land. We're here to protect the Realm, not ourselves. Knights die, the Realm - hopefully - doesn't.

After rolling for virtues of the optional squire (not my Knight's virtues yet!), I'm almost ready to jump on my steed.

At this point I ask myself (or my player(s)) a question I'm very fond of: how do I fit within the needs and wants of my Seer? Seers are interesting and diverse elements of this game, and my impression (possibly wrong) is that they tend to be quite self-centred; it makes sense for me to ask myself what kind of tool I represent in their toolbox.

Before reaching the Realm

Right before starting play, to give myself some room to stop being the player and start being my Knight, I ask myself four short questions, the answers to which I find in the spark tables of the book.

The four initial answers aren't everything I'll want to know about myself, my Squire, or my Seer, but they're everything I want to know as I approach the entrance of the new Realm. Everything else I'll find out during play (the proverbial crossing of the bridge, which happens when the bridge appears). Of course, mileage may vary: I love playing with a Squire, or asking myself about my heraldry, because those things make me feel Knightly—but if you don't care for that, you could replace those questions with something better suited to your preference. My suggestion, though, is to keep the number of questions short.

In my notebook, I keep a section titled 'Before reaching the Realm', where I jot down the answers.

Asking myself why the Seer is sending me to the Realm gives me an immediate north star, and helps me enrich my theories about how I fit into my Seer's plans. I find the answer by rolling 2d12 on the People:Task spark table.

Wondering about my Squire's relationship with me helps me understand what kind of dynamic the duo will have during travel—how they'll react, how they'll approach each other. I roll 2d12 on the People:Relationship spark table.

To get a better sense of my Knight as a person, I ask what my deepest desire is. Essentially, the one thing I couldn't compromise on, or couldn't escape from. It might sound trivial, and maybe it is. I answer that with 2d12 on the People:Desire spark table.

For example, in my latest solo campaign, I'm trying to escape revenge. Spooky. Even more so because after 30 sessions I still am not fully sure who's hunting me, or why. I only know they had a quarrel with my family, and it seems they might be winning.

Lastly, maybe a bit shallow of me, but I really, really want to know what symbol is embroidered on my handkerchief. Yes, I'm a big proponent of handkerchiefs as the ultimate Knightly accessory. 2d12 on the People:Heraldry help me with that.

Reaching the Realm

It's time to go, to ride and gallop and trot through hexes, to enter a Realm I've never visited before, with all its unknowns, potential, woes and problems. This short section of my notebook focuses on time and space. I decide how old I am and finally roll my Virtues, I roll the phase of the day and the season in which my adventure starts (d6, where the range of results are: 1-2, 3-4, 5-6), and I discover where I am entering the realm from. I do this by rolling a d4 (1: east, 2: west, 3: north, 4: south) and then a d12 to identify the starting hex.

I am finally about to start my game, and I couldn't be more excited.


To recap - without all the other bollocks I have written - my start-to-play-asap procedure is as follows:

Create the Realm

The Company

Before reaching the Realm

Reaching the Realm


Go now, the adventure begins
Seek the Myths
Honour the Seers
Protect the Realm

#mythic-bastionland