A GM’s Guide to Session Prep and Play

200 Word RPG Challenge contribution: Supplement.

You have characters, setting and system. You’re running a game tomorrow. What do you do?

Pick two (or roll 1d8):

1. Skim character and campaign notes. Note ideas.
2. True dilemmas: sketch situations the characters must react to.
3. Outline 3-5 NPCs. Names and keywords only. Link some to characters or plot (adversaries, helpers, obstacles).
4. Countdowns: events that will unfold unless the characters intervene.
5. Keywords about scenes/locales, groups (with agendas), special items.
6. Extrapolate ideas from specific character agendas/abilities/backgrounds.
7. Organize some of this info on a mind-map. Keywords will suffice.
8. Detail one element you really dig. Delve into it.

If more time:

* List(s) of names. People, places, items.
* Random-tables: monsters, events, weather, locations, etc.
* Maps.

(May be recycled in later sessions).

_GM Principles (during the game)_

Practice two each session (pick or roll 1d8):

1. Ask questions, build on the answers.
2. Accept, and add (go with player ideas).
3. Decline, but offer.
4. Reincorporate elements.
5. Be obvious (say what comes to mind).
6. Discrete scene-framing and cutting.
7. Throw curveballs.
8. Sometimes delegate responsibilities (like NPC control).


* Take breaks.

Sources: Imagonem, Old Friends, AW, Sorcerer, Håken, Play With Intent.
Thanks: You guys, David Schirduan.

20.000 Little Islands

“I have, with no exaggeration, lost track of Archipelago. There are now hacks and translations that I only find out about by chance, and I don’t remember all the stuff that’s been done with it.

All is as it should be. The game is officially out of my hands. Who would have thought it.”

–        Matthijs Holter

Archipelago is a story/role-playing game where each player controls a major character. Players take turns directing and playing out a part of their character’s story, leading them towards their selected point of destiny, while other players interact with and influence that story. The latest edition also utilizes fate and resolution cards, as well as the ritual phrases.

(The majority of the games and downloadable documents linked below are for free download, as usual here on Nørwegian Style):


In other languages

Hacks, expansions, adaptions


It’s hard to know with these things.

Put together, the Archipelago II and III main landing pages have gotten 19.650 page views since 2009. Dropbox doesn’t provide download statistics, which would be even more “proof of the pudding”. Many sites link directly to the Dropbox documents, so we just have no way of knowing the exact # of downloads over the past seven years.

If we missed your favorite hack, adaption or translation, please let us know in comments.

Cover photo: Høgåsen, Hidra/Hanne Feyling/Visit Sørlandet (CC BY-ND 2.0).




Shrine Master


Itsukushima shrine, torii gate. Photo: Joe deSousa/Flickr (CC0 1.0)

Of course he knew the Empire was built on airy, at times vulgar, symbolism. He was, after all, an educated man. He knew how to interpret the Laws of the Elders. Could equally well listen to the speech of the stars as kiss one of his concubines below. He believed neither in ghosts, nor in symbols as anything other than representations.

Still, a part of him; one might say the child, believed firmly in the virtues:

1. Fidelity to the large and the small family. Even when the decisions of the concubines or the Emperor seemed enigmatic.
2. Friendliness and good will towards strangers.
3 . Ritualized blasphemy by the altars along the roads, at night.
4. That you will reap as you sow.

Now he was standing by one of the altars, on the road to the Imperial City. The sunset painted the sky in shades of gold, pink, violet and orange. But not red, that color had been forbidden by the Emperor.

Soon the star-song would begin.

The altar was a scrawny, ancient spike of stone. The little roof that was supposed to protect the sacrificial gifts; fire, incense, beautiful stones, blood, flowers and perfume, against wind and weather would probably break down completely in a few hundred years.

He left a small, twelve-sided die for the enjoyment of the altar-eaters. Said a silent prayer to The Guardian of the Road that the ghosts he didn’t believe in would leave him alone this night.

On the long way home.

Shrine Master is about building those wayside shrines. It uses the Soft System.

The Soft System

Character set-up
Relations (max 3)
Twists/ story seeds/ complications/ intrigue magnets

Skill/ability check results

On a modified roll of 1d12:

12. Critical hit
11. Yes, and
10. Yes, and
9. Yes, but
8. Yes, but
7. Yes, but
6. No, but
5. No, but
4. No, but
3. No, and
2. No, and
1. Conflict escalates

With a table you can add modifications to die roll results. E.g: you have a relevant ability = +1, bigger chance of yes-roll. Very difficult task = -1, etc.

The results are interpreted by another player (one who’s character is not attempting the action. Everyone can make suggestions.)


At the beginning of each session, the players get one Whimsy card each (draw two cards, keep your favorite). They can be played at any time during the game, the player interprets the result. Inspiration can be used to buy more whimsy cards, at the rate of 1 Inspiration point = 1 card.

Original whimsy cards: http://www.darkshire.net/jhkim/rpg/systemdesign/cards/whimsycards.html

Inspiration points

Any player or the GM may award one (1) inspiration points to another player during a session. These can be spent [in interesting ways] to hack the narrative, setting or outcome of die rolls.

They are awarded when:

– A player does or says something unspeakably cool.
– A player acts in accordance with Goal or Problem.
– A player complicates matters in interesting ways.

The inspiration points are awarded immediately.

Inspiration points are dialed back to zero at the start of every new session.

Can be used to make small additions to the GM’s descriptions, add detail to the setting (the GM forgot to mention), auto success, introduce (useful) NPCs, buy a new whimsy card, etc.


Give others a chance to speak. Hear what they say. See how you can build or act on the information they impart to the story.

Accept, and add
If something is stated or established in the fiction, it’s probably true. Characters and ghosts may lie, and you may forget details. But try to stay with what has been said. Add your own details as they come to you. Don’t try too hard. Say the first thing you think of. Reincorporate elements that have come up previously.

Decline, but offer
It’s perfectly fine for your character to refuse a suggestion, but try to come up with a counteroffer. Don’t block or stall the game. If you get stuck in discussion-paralysis; act. Make up something, like an accusation. Do something stupid.

Just pause. And breathe.

Before you add a new element, consider: what has already been established? Can I re-introduce it into play? Will it create contrast, or shed new light this time around?


The home village. Photo: dynamosquito/Flickr. (CC BY-SA 2.0)

Stay fluid
Be willing to discard your plan, or even better; don’t plan for a certain outcome. Pick up on the creative “balls” others throw out for you to play with. Go along with ideas. This is key to having fun in this game.

Let the story emerge
There are no true secrets here. There isn’t a prewritten plot to discover. This story will emerge during play, and you will see the totality in the end. Relax. Give your character and the ghosts time to play their hand, say their piece. Watch what the others do. Listen.

You don’t have to be funny or smart. Let the words come to you at their own pace.

Your little village needs a new wayside Shrine, the last one was torn down by the forces of nature. You play the Shrine Master and her henchmen. They will gather holy materials for the shrine, and build it where the last one stood.

Random story table (d12)

1. Another Shrine Master, searching for the same material as your group.
2. Sex in the City: your materials are located in a brothel in the Imperial City.
3. Sacrifice Emotion: you must recall and reenact a childhood memory to empower the Shrine.
4. An Infidel Demon tries to usurp your shrine. You must battle it with your wits.
5. Consumption: shrine building proves costly. You must get day jobs. It’s terrible after a life spent adventuring on the road.
6. Enabler: you meet a wrinkled old crone who offers to make shrine building easier if you make a sacrifice.
7. Tallest tower: an essential shrine component is located in the top of a near-inaccessible tower. It symbolizes our vain efforts.
8. Priestess: you must also recruit a priestess to cater to the shrinal needs. She must be a virgin, and very hideous.
9. A special kind of stone is required for the shrine. You must establish a quarry and safely transport the stone to your home village.
10. The Shrine Master’s concubines approach her for a favor, interrupting the quest.
11. Harmonious ritual: the group must create a ritual to empower the shrine.
12. Personal demons: the entourage have to confront and battle their personal, manifest demons in order to complete the shrine.

Game master instructions

Because all new indie games must be AW hacks:

Thunderous roar: Give brief, short descriptions that relate to the setting. “The crystal shines like crimson terror. It’s cold and hard to the touch. Electric fragrance in the air.”
Address the characters, not the players.
Show, don’t tell.
Abrupt change: every time your attention strafes something you own: a secondary character, an object, organization or relationship: consider killing, destroying or altering it for good.
Name everything, make everything human: create a list of names before the game. Give the secondary characters simple, understandable, human motivations.
Ask questions, build on the answers: “when did you first understand you’d be building a shrine? Why do you want to build the shrine? What does the new location look like?”
Give them what they want, reveal the consequence.
Be a fan of the characters: give them what they fight for, let them build their shrine… but only at the very end.

Support wheels

To be used if there is inaction or you’re stuck. Choose something from this list that will fit what has already come to pass. Shake things up, good:

Separate them.
Take a prisoner.
Give them a dilemma/tough choice: you can save one friend, not both.
Announce future threat: a great, big column of black smoke on the horizon. A nasty noise in the bushes. A rumor spreading.
An eye for an eye: hit them the way they hit your secondary characters.
Reveal your hand: state what you plan to do, execute.
Take away their stuff (except what truly defines them)
Activate their flaws.
Explain possible consequences and ask if they still want to go through with the plan.
Offer an opportunity that comes with a price.
Always ask: “what do you do?”

Other tips
Maps, handouts.
Ask follow-up questions: «yeah, tell me; what does it look like on the road? What will the shrine look like in the end?”
Digression and detail, sometimes.
Go around the table, give everyone spotlight.
Take breaks. Take your time.


The game ends when the shrine components are assembled, and it’s erected by the road near the character’s home village.

Go around the table. Ask the players what their character added to the shrine, and how it looks in the end. Go in great detail, this was the goal after all.

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“Beyond Words”

[The roleplaying games] I like most tend to be termed ‘surreal’ in their approach; some parts feel real, some imaginary; others symbolise greater truths. It doesn’t matter too much to me if the game has a GM or not, or labels itself a ‘story i130408170137363367game’ or as part of the Old School Renaissance; what matters to me is the generosity of spirit of those taking part. Trust is everything. I like the approach taken to this issue by the Nørwegian Style, a movement prevalent in the roleplaying scene in and around Norway until a couple of years ago.

Some generous and interesting thoughts over on the British blog A Kingdom Is.

Read the whole thing here.

Indie Spring Festival: With Norwegian games!

Check this out: https://bundleofholding.com/presents/SpringFestival – for a limited time, you can get a bunch of great games super cheap! And part of the money goes to charity, so you’re saving the world a little as well.

The Norwegian influence is heavy in this bundle. Itras By was first published in Norwegian. Love in the Time of Seið was written by an American and a Norwegian. And the Game Poems are inspired by the Norwegian Role-Playing Poems. (Crossroads was written by a Dane, which means it’s almost Norwegian 😉

So yeah. Run along and check it out!

Follow-up to “Status in small communities”

Some additional thoughts after my last blog post.

Category: Connectedness

I was going to write this, but plain forgot. This one is connected to visibility, and is very relevant for cultural production.

  • Do you have friends who can tell people how awesome you are?
  • Do you have high-status people who can help you gain visibility?


The flashlight metaphor

I tend to think of status like this: Every member of a community has a little flashlight – something they can use to shine on themselves or others, to direct attention.

  • The higher your status, the stronger your flashlight – if you’re a high-status individual, people will look at the things you point at.
  • The better you’re connected, the more friends you have that can shine their flashlights on you.
  • A group of friends who keep shining on each other will get a lot of attention, and a lot of people will get jealous or angry that they’re hogging the spotlight.
  • If you’re not connected at all, you’ll have to shine on yourself to get attention, and that can backfire, because it makes you look selfish.
  • When you’re in the light, you better have something to show, because otherwise people will be less inclined to point at you the next time you get your chance.
  • The light you receive is not directly connected to the quality of your work or person. You can be great and stand there in the dark, because nobody’s heard of you and you don’t have any friends in this community.
  • Light hangs around for a bit, and then fades away.

Status in small communities

The word “status” gets used a lot in discussions, especially in some gaming communities I’m part of. This is my attempt to understand and describe what the word means, and how status works in a small community. I’ve spoken to people from different countries and communities to try to get different viewpoints; however, this isn’t a scientific article in any way, and the thoughts presented here are my own, incorporating ideas and thoughts from many sources.

My intention when starting this article was to give some sort of definitive answer. Not going to happen. This is a part of an ongoing discussion, but it might be a good reference for later talk. Enjoy, and comment!

What is status?

Social status, according to Wikipedia, is “the honor or prestige attached to one’s position in society”. However, it’s not as simple as that: You don’t hold only one position in one fixed society. Rather, your status is relative to each specific community – and each member of a community will have their own idea of what your status is. It’s a moving target – one of those words that we use that everyone knows what means until you start investigating it. (For more words like that, check out “immersion”, “art” and “love”).

But let me try to define it at least a little bit. It seems status isn’t just one thing – rather, it’s composed of different categories. You could say that the higher your “score” in each category, the higher your total status. I mean, if you were a gamer, you could say that.

So here, without further ado: The categories of status.

Category: Visibility in the community

Do people have reason to notice you in the community? For instance…

  • Are you present at gatherings, big and small? Cons, festivals etc.

  • Do you make your presence known? Are you charismatic, well-dressed, a party animal…

  • Do you make your voice heard? At online fora, panel debates etc.


People notice different things, of course, and have different filters on reality – so one person might not notice you while another knows exactly who you are and where your children go to school. This is based a lot on personal interest, but it also seems there are different types of relational radars, by which I mean:

Some people notice social hierarchies. I know I do: I pay attention to who gets to speak when, who gets to interrupt people, who gets listened to, who makes the final call in group decisions. I sometimes see people as leaders and followers, and base social decisions on that.

Some people care more about social closeness. Who do you trust, personally? Who gets to be in your inner, most intimate circles, and who stays just a little further out? If this is your radar, you’re likely to talk about people in terms of whether they’re trustworthy, how they treat others, because this information is important to you. (Also, see the “Ethics” category below.)

Category: Contribution to the community

This is not the same as visibility. If you do a lot for the community, some people will notice and some won’t. If you talk a lot and do nothing, again, some will notice and some won’t.

So are you an unselfish contributor? Do you do things not just for your own sake, but for the sake of everyone? For instance…

  • Do you organize things for others? Cons, trips etc?

  • Do you help others get their projects going? With funding, social ninja-ing, proofreading etc?

  • Do you set up organizations that strengthen the community?

Category: Cultural production

This one’s a bit tricky, and I’m not sure if I’ve nailed it – that is, something about it feels fuzzy and undefined, but it’s the start of a thought.

  • Do you produce artifacts that are valued by the community? For instance, if you’re in a gaming community, are you a game designer?

This is related to both contribution and visibility; being a cultural producer makes you more visible, and it’s a contribution, but it’s not an unselfish one. These things make this category interesting and hard to pin down.

Category: Attractiveness

Weighted, of course, by what community you’re in – however, there’s no escaping the fact that looks matter.

  • Are you, by the standards of the community, physically attractive?

  • Do you dress right? Or even set the tone for how to dress?

Of course, here a lot of sexual undercurrents and unwritten rules make things a bit muddled. For instance, if you’re a very beautiful and sharply-dressed woman, that might make it harder for you to be accepted for some positions, in some circles etc.

Category: Ethics

The wrong behavior can really fuck up your status in a community, no matter what else you do.

  • Do you behave like a good model participant/leader should?

  • Is your personal conduct good?

  • Is your personal conduct as people would expect from your position?

Fighting is an interesting thing here. It’s wrong to start a war (for instance, to conquer an oil-producing nation while lying about your motives) or a big public fight (for instance, to make the other guy/girl accept that You’re The Smartest). Still, fights can give you great visibility, and as a leader, you might be expected to fight… so yeah. It can make you popular, because we’re animals.

Intra-community behavior

This might be a separate category, or maybe it belongs here; but it’s important to some how you treat others, as people. For instance:

  • Do you see others and help them contribute?

  • Are you kind and helpful to newcomers, and try to make them part of your community?

Category: Influence/power

Yeah, it’s good to be the king. It’s also good to own the web site that everyone visits, so you can decide what’s cool and what’s not. Or to be the person who decides what projects get funded or not.

For instance:

  • Can you make others do what you tell them?

  • Can you make decisions that impact what others can do in the community?

So, there you have it.

That’s what I’ve got right now. If you find this useful or thought-provoking, please let me know in the comments! (I’ll be moderating them, of course, so be nice.)

Follow-up to “My Scene is Dead”

There’s been a LOT of talk about my previous post. On G+, on Facebook, on blogs and fora and in person. I wanted to follow up with some key points. None of these are direct quotes from anyone (I think), but they’re meant to sum up arguments that I see here and there.

Bear in mind that I’m summing up only my personal perspective, from what I see going on. From where you sit/stand, things may look different.


1. People are still playing games

Yes, they are. I am, too. Right now I’m in two campaigns and one semi-regular group, and we’re talking about setting up a new thing for one-shot games. I know my friends play a lot, too. But the visible, communal discussions and design are pretty much gone. Which is too bad, because we’re not sharing our thoughts and ideas. If we’re just the same gangs, sitting in the same basements, playing the same games, the hobby is dead when we die.

2. That scene was just you (Matthijs) and your buddies

Some were my buddies, some became my buddies. I think we were all open to making new friends, and many of us did. In a tiny scene, you get that – people become friends because they share passions and interests. It was me and others who had the same (sometimes obsessive) interests. This is what art movements are.

3. That scene was insular, elitist and made people feel unwelcome

(This tends to come from people I’ve never met, or from anonymous posters).

We’ve tried to make people feel welcome. We’ve tried to bridge gaps. I don’t tell people that their play preferences are wrong or stupid. People have told me that, though. We tried engaging people in discussion, to find out where all this came from, but it was like sitting in a bright room while people would spit at us from the fog outside. This whole “fight” between “camps” is pointless, a waste of time, and something nobody I know wants. Still it keeps coming up from people I’ve never met.

At my “elitist” con, complete strangers stayed at my house for days and played Draker & Demoner or Street Fighter or GURPS. At the “elitist” fora, people discussed Vampire and D&D4 and talked about why traditional games were awesome and how we could make ARCON (the major mainstream gaming festival) even better. In the “elitist” competitions, people won without anyone knowing who the hell they were.

It feels as if people wanted me and others to play and design and discuss for them. We didn’t. We did it for us. We didn’t design the games you wanted us to design, because they were already out there.

4. There’s lots of shit happening right now

Yes, there’s things going on. But not as much as before, and not by new people. My impression is that some of the people from the scene will continue doing things until we die, but still, I feel that the majority has dissipated.

5. Here’s what you should have done: (…)

You’re not really helping.

6. Here’s what you should do: (…)

Thanks. I, and most people I’ve talked to, know what we should do/have done to keep things going. However, the things we never did, we’re not doing now, and I’m not sure we ever will (in my experience, people don’t start doing things they’ve never done). So I’m not very optimistic.

7. I’m going to do some shit!

YES! Do that!

8. Scenes come and go

Yup. They do, and I think that’s just the way it is. And this one is gone now.

9. The scene is still influential abroad

I know it is, and that makes me very happy!

10. The scene was very tiny, and not representative of what the rest of us were doing

We were representative of us, and what we did was pretty amazing. I’m not representing people I’ve never met or spoken to. I do wish you’d popped by and spoken to us, though.

11. We’re all growing old, and don’t have as much time as we used to

Tell me about it! Again, cycle of life. Scenes come and go.

12. I tried to do things for the scene, but nobody listened to me

We all feel like that sometimes. I’ve felt like that A LOT. I know people won’t believe me, since I talk and talk and sometimes people answer, but yeah. The games I’ve made that nobody’s played, the magazines I’ve made that were only read by the people who made them, etc etc etc. People DO listen, even if they don’t cheer you on or answer when you talk to them (strangely enough). But then, nobody’s responsible for cheering you on, either. You do what you do, you see what happens, nobody owes you anything.

13. The things you did weren’t interesting to me or my friends


14. I’m doing LOTS of shit ALL THE FUCKING TIME!

Tomas, I love you, you’re one of a kind, our biggest inspiration, and please keep on rocking.

15. You’re just a bunch of guys excluding all the girls

No. Ask the girls.


My scene is dead.

Four years ago we published the “Nørwegian Style” book. It was an anthology of Norwegian games translated into English. We wanted to show the world what we were doing, and how cool it was; how vibrant and fresh our scene was, how much fun we had in designing games and trying them on each other.

Today it seems that scene is dead.

How is it dead? Let me count the ways.

1. We’re not writing games and putting them online anymore. Most of the activity on this blog is about our games being translated, re-released or hacked; the games are alive, but we’re not making new ones.

2. The R.I.S.K. competition, which was a major source of new ideas and material, has had less and less activity. This year nobody bothered to run it.

3. Other attempts at game design competitions have failed. Most get no submissions at all. I won one nearly two years ago, with A Thousand Years Under the Sun. I was the only participant. When a few of us talked about maybe setting up a Norwegian Game Chef 2013, it… just didn’t happen.

4. The roleplaying forums at n4f.no (rollespill.net) have almost zero activity. New forums at rollespill.info have about five participants. The Facebook group for Norwegian roleplayers never had much buzz. There’s hardly anything on G+ or Twitter, either.

5. HolmCon, the tiny con at my house where people would come to try out new and strange stuff, had no newcomers this year (and was almost entirely made up of guys over 30).

6. The Arcon festival is struggling to get new roleplaying scenarios, and people to run them.

7. Playground Magazine came and went (although an international effort, it was based in Norway).

8. We’re not publishing game books anymore. (Itras By is a translation of a book published several years ago).

Why is it dead?

1. We’re not recruiting new people. As people grow older and get families and jobs or just grow plain bored with their hobby, there aren’t new people ready to take over. We’ve known about this problem for a decade, and never managed to muster a collective effort to fight it. There’s one light in the darkness: Tomas Mørkrid, who targets young players specifically with his workshops and campaigns.

2. As a result, all our potential designers, theorists, players are picked up by other scenes with more initiative. Through Fantasiforbundet, Laivfabrikken, Grenselandet etc etc etc, the Nordic larp scene is thriving and growing and getting all the fresh young minds. They’re doing amazing work. I just wish we did the same.

3. A few of us have been conspicuously absent the last years. Some have been sick for prolonged periods. I have been making hard priorities in order to get some major projects up and running (Playground, my novel), and am no longer trying to join in on everything. (I miss being part of everything).

4. Although we tried as hard as we could, some of us in the “hard core” of the scene were never able to shake off a reputation as elitists, snobs etc. This alienated people.

What would it take to build it up again?

I’m not sure we can, by now. I think it might just be too late. However, if we want to, we need to look at what the larpers are doing: We need to recruit, recruit, recruit. Teach. Reach new people. Not just go to the same old cons and hope some new faces show up, but do things like:

  • Grab young people who are interested and fan their flames. It’s easy to think that “this is just one obnoxious person with zits”, but that person might be running their own con in five or ten years, IF you just get them up and running and welcome them into your crowd. (I’ve done it, and seen it happen). No matter if it’s just one person you manage to recruit – that’s a billion times better than none, and this person might recruit a dozen more in a short time.
  • Devote your time at cons to playing with young new people, and get them excited. Make them love the game.
  • Go to new places. New cities and new cons and even non-gaming places. Play with strangers, talk to strangers about gaming and game design.
  • Take care how you use visibility! Keep some discussions for smaller circles – like your most theory-heavy or meta-advanced or weird and provocative stuff. Try to be welcoming and open, not authoritative and proselytizing.

I am not a Jeep.

Moving through the most obscure realms of postmodern entertainment, we find the identity politics and artistic branding of Scandinavian roleplaying subcultures. While these have little importance outside of the rarefied circles of the game designers of the utmost North, to them, these things can sometimes seem to have meaning.

So, yeah. I’m not a Jeepformer.

Sometimes people will explain my games, or my friends’ games, by saying they’re Jeepform. But they’re not. None of us make Jeepform games.

What does that even mean?

Well, you see: Jeepform is a brand. It’s not, I believe, a unique design philosophy (nor is Nørwegian Style, or games conforming to the Hippie Method Manifesto). These are mostly just subsets of the huge monstrosity called “freeform”, and not very stable subsets at that. If I were to design a game that was, word for word, a remake of a Jeepform game, I wouldn’t call it a Jeepform: It wouldn’t have been made by a member of the Jeepform community – a jeeper. In the same way, if a jeeper wrote one of my games, it would be a Jeepform, by definition.

I don’t know what the Jeep policy on, or attitude toward, all of this is. There’s a lot of games being labeled “jeepform” these days; in Poland, they run “jeeps”, which appear to be improvised freeform games, though I couldn’t say for sure.

So, yeah. While I steal liberally from anyone, from any school of game design; and while some of my designs are probably compatible with the design goals of the jeepers, and might look like Jeepform to an outsider – I get slightly annoyed when people claim I’m part of a collective I’m not in. The jeepers I’ve met are cool people, and the (very few) Jeepforms I’ve played are good. If I were a jeeper, I’d happily confess to it. However, I’m not; and just like a catholic probably won’t like being called a protestant, I prefer it when my games aren’t called Jeepform.