RPGNow

Sunday, February 8, 2026

Turn Your Hex Crawl Into a Real Game (Steal Dungeon Procedures)

 Highlights from the named video:



Watch Length

Pick a watch length that matches the kind of game you want:

If you want it tight and gritty, use 2-hour watches.

If you want classic “cover ground but still feel pressure,” use 4-hour watches.

If you want it looser and faster, use half-day watches.


The three travel modes 

Normal travel

standard movement

standard navigation

standard encounter risk

Cautious travel

slower movement

better chance to spot trouble first

better chance to stay on course

Fast travel

more distance

more likely to get lost

higher fatigue risk

more likely to blunder into trouble


Wilderness actions

foraging or hunting

scouting ahead

searching for a feature

mapping carefully

moving stealthily

hiding your trail

setting an ambush

building shelter early because the weather is turning nasty


For wilderness travel to matter, you need:

a time unit (watches)

a risk roll (encounters)

navigation consequences (lost, drift, time)

resource pressure (supplies, fatigue, exposure)

and a feature per chunk (so there are actual decisions)




Tuesday, February 3, 2026

February 2026 Livestream & Convention Schedule


 

Subscribe to the Tenkar's Tavern YouTube Channel

Transcript, Feb 3 - How to Run Illusions in a Dungeon (Without Gotchas)


Original Video: https://youtu.be/6ijRtEpQknk

The transcript is lightly edited from an auto-generated one. Expect typos and worse ;)

A viewer asked, how do you handle illusions in a dungeon, like a false wall or a false floor? And actually, I love that question because illusions can be brilliant, or they can turn your dungeon into a paranoid trap. Every stone slog where nobody trusts anything. So I'm going to give you how I run illusions in old school play. 

Scary. Useful. Most importantly, fair. Because the moment your players feel like the DM can just lie, whenever you don't have tension anymore, you've got distrust. 

So we got the question then. Like what is an illusion when illusion is not a gotcha? It's a problem of perception. So I'm always thinking three things when it comes to illusions. Is there something that feels off if the players pay attention? Can they test it in a way that makes sense in the world? The game world? And if they don't test it, is the consequence fair? Something that would follow naturally. If the only answer is you should have guessed. That's not clever. That's me being smug. 

And I can be smug, but that's not what we want. People generally say illusion and mean different things. And these are the big ones. First, a sensory illusion is something that isn't physically there. 

So it's like a wall that looks solid, but you can walk right through it. It doesn't block you with stone. It blocks you because you believe it does. 

Second, a real hazard that's disguised like a pit that's absolutely real. But it's covered by an illusion that looks like normal floor. See, that's a real threat. Wearing a fake face. 

And then you have the third type. Misdirection, fake exits, fake doors, Phantom treasure stuff meant to burn off time. Split the party or put you into a bad position. Once you know which one it is, making a ruling gets relatively simple. Now do I telegraph them? 

All right, so I don't announce. There's an illusion here. And hold up a sign. No, but I do give players something they can notice. 

Now, my favorite clues are practical, physical, and generally tied to how dungeons work. So dust behaves wrong. Or that part of the floor is just too clean, too undisturbed, or there's dust piled oddly along the edge of a wall. Aaron, smoke. Behave wrong. A draught from a sealed corridor. Torch. Smoke pulling sideways. Sound behaves wrong. Uh. Short hall that echoes like it's much deeper than it appears. Monster behavior can often give it away. Goblins vanishing in a dead end. Voices behind a solid wall. Patrol routes that don't make sense. And that last one. That last one is DM gold. Okay, because it makes the dungeon feel lived in. Like a place with routines. Not a trick box. 

So in old school play the player's best tools aren't skill checks. I know I say that a lot. Or a variation of that a lot. This is aimed at my 5e players. I know I have a 5e audience. I'm just going to remind you old school play the players best tools aren’t skill checks. It's time. Caution, interaction and gear. So when someone says, I checked the wall, I ask, how are you checking it? Because the how is the entire game. 

Here are the tests that matter most, especially when it comes to illusions. 

Touch and pressure. Right? If it's a walk through illusion, this should reveal it quickly, right? You press, you lean, you push. You touch the wall with your ten foot pole. You poke it with your sword. The wall's not there. You probe ahead. Okay. The ten foot pole earns its keep. 

If they probe a suspicious floor and it goes through the floor, they should get information before someone commits their weight to that location. Throw something. Toss a pebble, a coin, a torch, especially for false floors. The sound tells you plenty. The missing coin will tell you plenty. Dust. chalk, flour. A little puff of flour at a wool can tell you if air is moving through it, especially if the flour goes right through it. Um, attempting to mark a wall with chalk. There's no wall, there's no surface. You're not marking it. But this play is smart, it's simple. And essentially it feels earned. 

Mapping and logic. If the group maps carefully, illusions will get caught constantly. That's good. That's not a bad thing. That's what careful play buys you. And just to say it, if the players interact in a concrete way, I don't make them roll to earn reality. They did the test. They get the result. 

So Okay then. Well, when do you use saves or checks or when do you roll? I use saves when the illusion is acting like an attack on the mind. Panic images, phantom threats, disorientation, that sort of thing. But the player says I toss a copper on that suspicious tile. I'm not asking for a roll to see if they notice that the coin falls through the floor. The interaction is the answer. Player action first. Only when the magic is pushing back. Now illusions should have teeth, but the bite has to make sense. 

So what consequences are appropriate? Waste of time. Right. Or counter checks. Torch burning down. Bad positioning. Splitting the party up. Noise that wakes the place up the resource drain. Because you chose the wrong approach. 

And then there are some bad consequences or inappropriate instant death with no warning and no counterplay. I'm against that. When it comes to illusions or anything else, I don't like it. I'm not a fan of save or die out of the blue. What about there? There were no clues. But you should have known. And I think many of us have experienced that crap. If a party sprints down a dungeon hallway like it's a hotel corridor. I'm not advising that you run through the hotel corridor. Is that a convention? But if you do so, yeah, you might drop through a pit there because you're not looking for it. And that's fair play. But I still want something a cautious group could have noticed. 

So let me give you two examples. The way I would run it. False wall that you can walk through. I describe a normal wall, but I usually include one clue a draft torch, smoke that's pulling strangely muffled voices, footprints that don't add up, or monsters disappearing into a dead end if they test it, touch reveals it. If they don't, they miss an advantage, a shortcut, a stash, a safer route, a prisoner, something meaningful but not campaign ending and not session fashion ending. 

What about the popular false floor over a real pit. Same deal. Normal floor. Plus one detail that nags. To clean or the dust is undisturbed. Or there's a faint hollow note to the room. Stones are a little too perfect. Or there's a slight slope. Probe it. Toss something. Test it. Now they know. Ignore it and someone drops, takes damage, makes noise. And now the dungeon is awake. That's not mean. That's not arbitrary. Just cause and effect. 

Now, the biggest illusion mistake is using illusions as a substitute for dungeon design. If the content is just a trick, players learn the wrong reason. Distrust everything. Slow down forever. The best illusions exist for a reason. Guarding something important. Supporting a faction that uses the illusion tactically. Hiding a bypass or escape route or funneling intruders into a bad approach. See when it serves the place players respect it even when it bites them. If you can answer these questions, your illusion is solid. What's the subtle clue? What's the practical test? What's the fair consequence if they ignore it? And listen, that's the whole philosophy. 

Now, if you've got a favorite illusion, one that felt fair or one that felt like a cheap shot, drop it in the comments. I want to hear your war stories. Thank you for spending your time at the tavern and God bless.


Monday, February 2, 2026

OSR Christmas - Check Your Emails


Emails are landing!

Check your emails!

Transcript February 2nd - Committee Meetings Get You Killed (OSR Decision Paralysis Fixes)


Original Video: https://youtu.be/a3TtkSYi_zY

Transcript is lightly edited. Expect typos and worse ;)

This one comes straight from a viewer suggestion, and I'm actually glad it did, because decision paralysis is one of those table problems that can quietly kill a good RPG session. If you've ever sat there with a party staring at three doors, an intersection, a staircase, and a weird statue and nobody wants to pick one, well, yeah, that's the thing, right? That's the indecision. 

And today I'm talking player to player. How to stop freezing, start moving and still play smart, especially in old school games where time is a resource and the whole we all just think about it is how you get jumped by wandering monsters and other assorted miscreants. So now being careful is good. I'm not saying it isn't. Caution keeps you alive, but decision paralysis. That indecision is where the table gets stuck in a loop. You find yourself asking for info you cannot realistically get. Maybe you keep inventing new plans instead of choosing one. Or you keep waiting for the DM to confirm that it's safe. I got news for you. It probably isn't going to. You're stuck trying to find a perfect option or solution that simply doesn't exist, and paralysis has a real cost. Torches. Burns. Spells tick away. Noise travels. Wandering monsters happen. The dungeon doesn't pause because the party is having a committee meeting.

I'm sorry. Here's why this happens. Most of the time, this indecision comes from one of a few places. Fear of consequences, right? Old school play has teeth. Some choices bite. That is literally part of the game. That's what you're in for. Then there's trying to solve it in your head instead of in the game world. People start playing mental chess or checkers instead of exploring. And then there's waiting for permission. Players want the DM to validate the plan. In old school play, Like I said before, you generally don't get that. Too many choices. Too many options. Every hallway becomes a debate, and debate becomes, it becomes the game. 

So how do you fix that from the players side? Here's what works at real tables. Default to action, not discussion. And what do I mean by that? If the party is stuck, somebody has to be willing to say, alright, we're making a move. And not recklessly not Leroy Jenkins. No. Deliberately. If you want a simple mental rule. Movement creates information. You don't get certainty by thinking harder. You get it by probing the situation. So ask yourself, what's the smallest safe action we can take right now? What can we do that's reversible if it starts going wrong? You don't need a perfect plan. You do need the next move. So stop trying to pick the best plan and instead pick. It's actually good enough because most of the time you're chasing perfect. If you've got two or three decent options, arguing for ten minutes doesn't make choosing easier. It does burn time. It raises your party's risk, but doesn't make the decision making any easier. So use the good enough test. Does the decision keep us alive or move us towards the goal? Is the cost one that you're willing to pay? If yes, Have at it. 

Make scouting a procedure, not an argument. A lot of paralysis is. We don't know what's behind that door. So don't debate the door. Scout the door. Old school tables live and die on cheap info. Listen at the door. Check for drafts, smells, sounds. Look for tracks. Examine the lock. Examine the hinges. Probe the floor with a pole. Use a mirror. Check the ceiling. Line the cure to what if it's trapped? It's not a debate, it's literally a procedure. 

And if you want to be the player who saves the session, be the one who says, um, you know what? Before we argue and the DM rolls for a random encounter, let's gather a little info first. Assigned roles. So decisions don't require a committee if someone is steering the ship. Sorry, if everyone is steering the ship, then no one is steering the ship. Old school groups used roles for a reason. They kept the game moving forward. Now, what are some common roles? Caller or leader? It's not a dictator. It's he is a tiebreaker or she mapper. We've discussed that before. Now, if you're using a vdt, maybe mapping isn't an issue, but mapper scout generally a thief, maybe a halfling, maybe your elf quartermaster in charge of making sure there's enough light, managing the party's encumbrance, distributing the treasure. Who's the rear guard? So this reduces friction immediately because when there's a split, the table doesn't need to relitigate leadership every five minutes. Use a simple sixty second rule. When the table bogs down, somebody says, all right, 60 seconds And then we pick. Not to be rude, not to rush things along, maybe a little bit, but to prevent the session from becoming a debate club. See, in the fiction of the world that you're playing in, it's simply honest. Time is passing. The dungeon is alive 

Decide by risk category, not exact outcomes, because you don't know what the exact outcome is going to be. Paralysis comes from trying to predict the exact result. if we open it, the gas. Or maybe it's ghouls or goblins or a pit trap you can't know, so don't play that game. Think in three general buckets low risk, medium risk and high risk and then act accordingly. Low risk. Do it medium risk. Take some precautions and then likely do it. High risk. Only if it's absolutely necessary or if you can shift the odds in your favor. 

Keep the full moves in your pocket. That's another one, right? If you personally freeze, give yourself a cheat code. What do I mean when you're stuck? Default to one of the following and keep the game moving. Uh, I don't know what to do. Alright, you know what? I'll scout the next ten feet or I'll listen at the door. I checked the floor in front of the doorway. I look for tracks and notice there's a pattern to these things. Right? They create information without committing you to. What a huge decision. Force the plan into one sentence. If you can't say the plan in one sentence, it's not a plan. It may be brainstorming, but it's not a plan. For example, we wedge the door, listen, and fall back if we hear movement or conversation. That's a plan. You can execute that also. You know what you need to do. You need to accept that sometimes you'll be wrong. Keep things moving anyway, because that's the real fix. 

Old school play isn't about never making a mistake. It's about adapting after the mistake. It's about buying information because information saves hit points and you don't buy information necessarily. With gold. Sometimes it's with time. And asking the GM questions. If you pick the wrong hallway, fine. Back out. Change tactics. Learn the party that never chooses anything gets punished harder than the party that chooses imperfectly. 

Now let's remember the little thing I refer to as the the dungeon clock, right? It's always ticking. It doesn't stop. Tick tock. The dungeon clock. So what about a quick example? I'll throw this at you. The party reaches a T intersection, right? You can go left. You can go right. And then everybody starts arguing. And here's the smart play. Move! Stop! We're burning! Torch time. What is torch time mean? It means that we're burning time down to another random encounter. Check. So quick, Scout, I listen left. You listen right. If one sounds active, we take the quiet one. If both are quiet, we pick the right corridor and move. That's not perfect. Okay, but that is forward motion. So again, I want to thank the viewer who suggested this topic because decision paralysis It's common. It's fixable, and it's mostly fixed by players taking ownership of momentum. 

Now this is also a collab with D'Angelo. Catch his channel linked below. We are experimenting with doing collabs on Mondays now. If you've got a table trick that breaks paralysis, whether it's caller rules or timers or marching order, discipline, whatever it is, anything. Drop it in the comments. I want to hear what actually works at your tables. Current tables. Real tables. And if you want more practical on how to play it at the table videos, you know what to do, right? Subscribe. I'll keep you focused on what helps you run and play better. Thank you and God bless.

Tenkar's Tavern is supported by various affiliate programs, including Amazon, RPGNow,
and Humble Bundle as well as Patreon. Your patronage is appreciated and helps keep the
lights on and the taps flowing. Your Humble Bartender, Tenkar

Blogs of Inspiration & Erudition