The Rules That Vanish

Someone asked for the skill list the other night.

There is one. It is short. It sits on the sheet. After a couple of sessions, you stop looking at the page that explains it because you already know what your character is good at and the number. Then you just roll. 2d6, add the skill, maybe a characteristic if it fits, and see if you beat eight. Easy is a plus. Hard is a minus. That is basically the whole resolution system for anything that isn't straight combat or the world-generation tables.

It is small enough that it stops feeling like a system after a while.

You stop thinking about what the book says about climbing the wall. You think about the wall, and the wind, and whether the character has any business being up there, and then you throw the dice. The dice answer the question. The book is already closed. The page that told you how tasks work is three sessions back, and nobody has touched it since the second night. It worked the first time. It still works. The table has already moved on to whatever is actually interesting.

That's where these games stop being rules-light and just sort of turn invisible.

Rules-light usually still means there is a book, and you still look things up, and the rules are smaller, but they are still sitting there taking up space in the session. You still teach them. With these books, you teach the rules mostly once, and then they're not really in the room anymore.

Neither is the book.

They become the way the universe answers a question. Will the lock open? Does the broker trust you? Can you jury-rig the jump drive before the pirates close? Same throw for all of them. The referee calls a difficulty in the same breath as the problem. The player rolls. The fiction keeps going. Nobody flips to a chapter on task resolution because that chapter is already in the dice.

I have seen this happen across different books. Classic Traveller, Cepheus Engine, Hostile, Cepheus Deluxe, Sword of Cepheus, FTL Nomad, the various Light and Universal books. They all use some version of the same throw. You can change the genre, the equipment list, and what the skills are called, and the resolution stays the same. Players don't relearn how to succeed. They relearn what success looks like in this setting. That is the difference between a rules-light game and a game that has already left the table and sits in our heads.

You can still add things if you want. Advantage. Extra dice. Talents. Stamina and Lifeblood instead of the old characteristic damage. None of it breaks the disappearance. The core throw is still there. The book still closes. The session still spends its time on the free trader, the bad rumor, the next jump, or the sword that should not exist.

I do not miss the other way. I have sat at tables where the resolution system was a conversation of its own. Bonus actions, reaction types, degree-of-success charts, special cases for this skill and that condition. The book stayed open. The argument stayed open. The fiction waited. With these books, the argument never starts. The dice already settled it. We are already talking about what happens next.

That is the part I keep. Not the page count. Not the marketing claim that the game is simple. The moment the rules are no longer in the room, and all that's left is the throw, the story, and whatever the table decides to do with the answer.

Then we get back to the subsector. Or the dungeon. Or the next system.

The dice are already in hand.

The book is already in our heads.

Off the Shelf: The Sword of Cepheus 2nd Edition

I really like the 2d6 fantasy engine.

It is fast. It is fun. It is instant action. It does not ask you for ninety minutes of character creation, a website account, and three sourcebooks before anyone puts a sword on the table. You roll characteristics, pick a background skill, walk a career with events, muster out, and begin play. That is cool.

The Sword of Cepheus 2nd Edition, from Stellagama Publishing, is that engine pointed at the triple Sword genres: Sword and Sorcery, Sword and Planet, and Sword and Sandal. Conan, John Carter, and Jason and the Argonauts share a book. The common thread is a blade-wielding protagonist who uses brawn and brains against things that should not exist, and against people who should know better.

Three themes sit on the first pages, and they are not marketing copy. They are the game.

Gritty Heroism. A character with Melee Combat 3 in decent armor will cut through lesser warriors. Battle skill lets them act first. They still die to an ambush, a poisoned cup, or a lucky arrow. There are no challenge ratings. The world does not scale with the party. A moderately skilled adventurer can try a horrible monster and pay for it. An expert can still get unlucky.

Dark Sorcery. Magic is unreliable, and it costs you. Spells fail. Rituals go wrong. Mishaps, mutations, and corruption sit right next to the spell lists. There are no teleporting fireball machines. There are sorcerers taking risks for power they do not fully control. Magic items are the same problem in a bottle.

Open World. The map does not care what level you think you are. That is the Traveller instinct applied to fantasy, and it is why this book belongs on a 2d6 blog instead of being filed under "yet another OSR clone."

I have the book in hand. A5 digest, 377 pages, color cover, black-and-white interior. First edition was A4. This one is the size you actually carry. It is a thick little brick, and the spine will remind you of that when you try to keep it flat at the table, but the type is readable, and it is still one book. You can run from this volume. You do not need a second shelf to finish the thought.

The rules are also built to sit next to Cepheus Deluxe Enhanced Edition. Same engine family. Stars in one book, swords in the other, and you are not relearning a different math.

Character generation is the part I keep coming back to.

Characteristics first, the usual 2d6 six: Strength, Dexterity, Endurance, Intelligence, Education, Social Standing. Background skills from where you grew up. Then careers. Barbarian, Commoner, Noble, Pirate, Priest, Rogue, Sailor, Scholar, Shaman, Soldier, Sorcerer, Vagabond. Non-human careers sit later in the chapter if you want them. Each term you survive, you pick skills, you roll an event, and the event writes a piece of the character you would have spent an hour inventing in another game.

That is the Traveller loop. It works even better in fantasy. A Barbarian does not arrive as a bag of hit points and a rage button. They arrive with a hunt that went wrong, a feud, a stolen mount, a strange item pulled out of a cairn. A Sorcerer musters out with a spell or a magic item and a reason to be nervous about both. A Pirate has enemies. A Priest has obligations. You are playing before the first dungeon door.

Mustering out is cash, gear packages, retainers, mounts, spells, and the occasional magic item. Then you lock Stamina and Lifeblood, pick Traits, and you are done. Traits are the spice. They are the small mechanical hooks that keep two Soldiers from feeling identical without turning the game into a subclass catalog.

If you have played Cepheus Deluxe, the damage model will feel like home. Stamina goes first and comes back fast. Lifeblood is the real wound track. Healing is generous enough to keep a session moving and mean enough that a bad fight leaves a mark. Combat is 2d6, modifiers, a target number, and a short list of actions. Grappling, morale, surprise, and chases are in the book instead of being house-ruled in week two. Vehicle and ship fights exist because Sword and Sandal and Sword and Planet both need a chariot, a galley, or something worse.

Hero points if you want pulp-action and a slightly larger-than-life game, but not wannabe fantasy immortals. They are optional. Leave them off and the book stays mean. Spend them and a hero can cheat death once without turning into a 5E hit-point mountain. That is the right size of dial for this genre.

Sorcery is the chapter that separates this from a reskinned sci-fi book. Two lists: Arcane and Eldritch. Mishaps if you push it. Mutations if you keep pushing. Corruption if you live that life. Magical research is in the treasure chapter, which is the right place for it. You want a new spell? Pay for it in time, gold, and risk. That is Howard logic, not high-fantasy logic.

The Referee half of the book is why this stays off the storage crate.

A bestiary with a real population of threats, not a pamphlet of reskinned wolves. Treasure generation. Encounter tables for wilderness and towns. NPC creation, including NPC adventurers, so the world has other people who also went through careers. Six adventure seeds that are actually playable: home defense, a mill stone, a cavern, desperadoes, a pilgrimage, a lonely outpost. Appendix A is Superscience, for the Sword and Planet table and for the Referee who wants a glowing sword that is not a +3 longsword with a different name.

That is a complete 2d6 fantasy sandbox in one book.

Why this, and not the giant fantasy libraries?

Because I am tired of games that spend a session making a character. Because I already have Cepheus for stars and I want the same muscle memory for swords. Because Dungeon Crawl Classics will eat a whole evening going through tables and I love it for that, but some nights I want the career to do the flavor work and the dice to stay 2d6. Because Castles & Crusades and OSE scratch the D&D itch, and this scratches a different one: competent wanderers in a world that does not love them, with sorcery that should make everyone at the table lean away from the caster.

It will not replace every fantasy game on the shelf. It does not try. It is not a B/X clone with 2d6 glued on. It is Cepheus Engine doing Howard, Burroughs, and peplum films, with Stellagama's usual "here is the whole game, now go" attitude.

The first edition was already the right idea. The second edition is the one that stays on the living-room shelf: A5 instead of A4, Deluxe-compatible math, a clearer brief up front, and enough monsters, encounters, and seeds that you can start this week.

Roll the career. Survive the event table. Muster out. Put the character on the road.

That is the whole pitch that the book offers, and it is a good one.

Eight or Better

I keep coming back to the same throw.

Roll 2d6. Add the skill. Sometimes add a characteristic DM. Beat 8.

That is most of the game.

Difficulty is not a new target number every time. It is a DM. Easy work is +2 or +4. Hard work is −2 or −4. The referee can call it in a second, and the table keeps moving. Nobody is hunting a chart while the airlock cycles.

The curve does the rest. 7 is the most common result. 2 and 12 are rare, and they feel like they should be. A skill-0 character with no modifiers is living on a coin flip plus a little hope. A skill-2 veteran with a decent characteristic is competent without becoming a cartoon. You can see the difference at the table without a lecture.

That is why the small 2d6 books still feel like magic. Classic Traveller, the Cepheus Engine SRD, Cepheus Deluxe, FTL Nomad, the various Lights and Universals — they all orbit the same idea. The dice stay out of the way. The world generation, the ship, the patron, and the next jump matter more than the resolution system.

I have watched bigger games spend pages explaining how to roll dice. Subclasses. Advantage piles. Degree-of-success matrices that eat a turn. The 2d6 family already solved the problem in a paragraph and then spent the rest of the page on what you actually do with a free trader and a bad rumor.

You can dress it up if you want. Advantage dice. Extra D6 and keep the two highest. A fixed target of 8 with dice added or subtracted, like FTL Nomad. Talents instead of a long characteristic list. None of that breaks the engine. The engine is the two dice and the 8.

What I will not do anymore is pretend I need a 400-page core book to get there. If the rule does not change what happens at the table in the next thirty seconds, it can live in an optional booklet or stay in my head.

So that is the article. Roll 2d6. Add what you know. Eight or better. Then get back to the subsector.

The rest is just good refereeing and your boundless imagination.

Liking the 2d6 Games More and More

I like the 2d6 games more and more. I am finding the huge, full-sized, shelf library games to be heavy, unwieldy, space-wasting, and not worth my time. They are easily damaged by water leaks and other disasters, and are expensive to maintain and store.

None of my "big game" books were damaged in the last leak, but I ask myself the same question after every disaster. Why do I hold onto huge libraries of books that I will never read and don't need? Would I be happier with smaller, more focused, easier-to-manage, and lighter-weight games? I am not talking rules-light, but compact, expressive, and full-featured without a few thousand pages and a hundred pounds of bloat?

I am happier with smaller games.

They hold a sort of magic for me, where every word, chart, and rule was carefully weighed before it was put into the game. There is a cost to writing a page of rules in a small game, and we are just getting the best of the best in many of these designs. In contrast, I have games that needlessly run for pages for a single subclass. I can just see the writer being "paid by the word," and my eyes roll at the fat, terrible, boated, and heavy design with a few core concepts spread over pages of fluff text and art.

It is not worth keeping them around. The bigger they are, the worse the game becomes. I get the feeling the new Traveller, with shelf after shelf of books, is less playable than a small, digest-sized, 2d6 game like the original version was decades ago. Even a rules-light game like Cypher is huge, with a simple core concept, yet the books are far larger than they need to be. I can't find a 5E implementation (outside of Shadowdark) that is compact, and most of 5E feels like a lost cause.

I don't get that much enjoyment from them.

The bigger they are, the worse it gets.

A small-book game is like holding magic in my hands. They did so much with so little. There is nothing wasting my time and taking up space. The rest is up to me.

FTL Nomad Thoughts

What a cool game.

FTL Nomad is sort of an evolution of the "2d6 space game," but rules-light, built for speed, and licensed under CC BY 4.0. The entire system forgoes ability scores in favor of a skill-plus-talent system. You also get a character archetype, which is like a class that gives you a special bonus.

The game uses a single target number of 8, and a unique XD6 dicing system, where advantage and disadvantage dice cancel each other out, and if you are in the negative, you roll whatever is left and take the two lowest, and if you are in the positive, you roll whatever is left and take the two highest. Skill level is added to the end result.

For example, a net -2D difficulty on a 2d6 skill roll means you roll 4d6 and take the two lowest dice. A net +3D difficulty means you roll 5d6 dice and take the two highest dice.

Damage can also gain advantage or disadvantage, and while it is capped by the number of damage dice, taking the highest or lowest still counts.

The system is fast, elegant, stays out of the way, and preserves a single target number. Many 2d6 games have a target number for each difficulty level, but here it always stays 8. Difficulty adds or subtracts dice. Some report this is an excellent storytelling and roleplaying system that stays out of the way.

The game has seven skills (but optional rules in the first expansion can expand that list to 14 or 20), but the basic game stays simple and focused.

The game features starship combat, aliens, robots, world creation, encounters, creatures, vehicle combat, and everything else you need in a science-fiction game. The rules for each are simple and straightforward, built for speedy, consistent, rules-light fun.

Where traditional 2d6 games follow the attributes plus skills system, this dares to do something different, and it works incredibly well. It does not get bogged down in attributes that mean little in play or exist only to modify rolls when very high or very low.

Cepheus Engine SF-RPG

 There are plenty of Cepheus games out there, including one I discounted as an earlier version of the game, a flawed market leader, and a new standard in generic sci-fi gaming.

Get the black-and-white version of Cepheus Deluxe Enhanced Edition (CDEE) since the color version is a massive misstep. The borders are distracting and garish, and even the B&W version is overly large and wastes space. Also, the deck plans in the back of the book are nice, but far too small to use.

I would love to see a version of this game with less flash, a clean B&W layout, and better presentation.

The previous version, Cepheus Deluxe (CD), is also a good choice. It does not have the layout issues of the newest book, though it lacks some of the newer improvements. I still like the Stellagama Publishing versions of this game since they focus on providing a solid, generic Traveller-like experience. The art and layout aren't the best, but the game delivers on its concept.

There is another version of this book based on the SRD, so this previous version is not really needed unless you really like this edition. I like it, so I keep it on my shelves.

Cepheus Universal (CU) is better presented and laid out, and makes several good system improvements. CU is the game's more "generic sci-fi" version and is less Traveller-esque overall. Even though CU is the better-put-together game, CD and CDEE do better with the generic Traveller subsector sandbox experience. I like CU because it can easily simulate any sci-fi setting, in or out of the book, with very little work.

This is my current favorite generic sci-fi game, aside from Stars Without Number.

Another option is the Cepheus Engine SF-RPG (CE SF-RPG), a no-art version of the game from Moon Toad Publishing. This is a surprisingly solid, no-frills, SRD-based, constantly updated version of the original core rules. They have add-on books on vehicle and spacecraft design. This is an excellent choice as a bare-bones printed version of the SRD, and the latest file reportedly includes links. If you find CDEE or CD hurt your eyes, and the CU game isn't Traveller enough for you, the CE SF-RPG gives you the rules with no fluff.

The SRD-based game doesn't have an XP system, so you can leave it as-is or add one like we did. Ours was a simple 1-3 XP per successful encounter, 10 XP for a level zero skill, 10 XP times the desired level for raising skills or ability scores. You can also track XP per skill and ability, and spread rewards only to the skills and abilities used during that session. Modify the reward rate as desired.

I still like this game. Limiting ships to 5,000 tons in the base game and creating a universe of smaller vessels creates a fun "small ship" universe where space battleships don't determine who controls the universe. Adventure ships still matter, and navies will comprise battlegroups of smaller-sized ships that characters can reasonably fight and flee from. Limit task-group size to 6-9 starships with various roles, and you will have a space navy game that still works on character ship levels.

Also, since you don't have large ships in a base-book game, one planet can't easily invade another with massive troop ships. War will be between smaller battle fleets, and supporting like-minded factions on a world with off-world weapons and monetary support is a better way to "invade" a world, dramatically increasing the faction and political wrangling that characters and factions must do to win a war over population and resources. Star Wars has gotten too "instant teleportation" and "massive fleet and troop battles" that individual characters don't matter anymore. As a result, massive-scale IP is less heroic and fun to play.

The Spacecraft Design Guide adds capital ships larger than 5,000 tons, if you want them in your game. They are kept as an option, which is how it should be. Even with capital ships, if you limit those, they won't affect planetary invasions as much as they do in other games.

I am less and less interested in art in role-playing games these days. It is either AI slop, AI-assisted slop, purple-haired happy tree friends garbage, groan-inducing message art, or poor-quality filler. The times we get great art, it is done by one artist. Having seen all the terrible art in RPGs these days, I do not mind a book with no art at all. If I want something, I will make my own AI-generated slop, show it to players, and pray they don't laugh. Or I will return to drawing and do it myself, since even a crappy game master sketch has more heart than a soulless rip-off AI-art machine.

All of them are excellent choices, with a few being better for some things than the others.

Originally published on the SBRPG blog, 5/15/25.

Traveller vs. Star Frontiers

Oh, now it is getting personal. How dare you compare these?

And I speak with someone who had a Star Frontiers campaign world go on for 30 years, I know which one won in our hearts. But the game never lasted long, got a silly remake with the color-coded "Marvel Super Heroes" results table and some awful 1980s Macintosh vector art with Zebulon's Guide to Frontier Space, and the game was left to die.

Wizards resurrected the corpse with d20 Future, and I hope they never touch this game again with the D&D rules, or they will most certainly ruin it and desecrate the fond memories I have. After what they did to Spelljammer, I do not trust them with science fiction. The game outsold Traveller in the 1980s, but we received no follow-up from TSR. We had a handful of adventures, no true second edition, no hardcovers (unless you count the PoD today, thank you, Wizards), and the game died by the 1990s and was a dead game.

Our love for Star Frontiers went on for decades. The system broke down due to skills and abilities that exceeded 100%, and the game struggled to handle higher-level play. We ended up replacing the rules systems with other ones, and that is where we left it.

Today, the spirit of Star Frontiers lives on in the excellent Frontier Space game, picking up where the original left off, and it has a much better action economy and system of rules in place. I would still use the Star Frontiers Universe and the Knight Hawks ship combat game, but Frontier Space is essentially Star Frontiers these days. There's no reason to play that game when we have far better options available, plus an open, community license. But none of these are 2d6 games!

Traveller is.

Compared to Star Frontiers, Traveller is massive. The game only went out of print a few times, and we had various versions reincarnated over the decades. Today, it is in excellent hands, with the first edition of the Mongoose game having an open license, and the second has a partner license, but the first-party support from Mongoose is phenomenal. The first-party support for Mongoose Traveller, second edition, is better than Wizards and D&D.

Traveller survived and thrived, and it is a robust game. This is the best and largest science fiction role-playing game out there these days. Compared to Star Frontiers, Traveller won the war. I still have a massive soft spot for Star Frontiers, though.

If I were starting a science fiction game today, what would I do?

Traveller would be the one. While Frontier Space is a fantastic emulation of the original comic-book-like game, and it improves on the rules in every way, I could do the same or better in a 2d6 game these days. I know, it is heresy, but the support in Traveller for so many campaign types, and the number and quality of adventures, means I have decades of things to do, and there is still more coming.

There are thousands of systems, numerous starship types, varied campaign types, a trading game, mercenary adventures, mass combat, ship combat, capital ships, a war campaign, science missions, and much more. You can run diplomats, spies, cyber-hackers, criminals, space pirates, freedom fighters, space law enforcement, bounty hunters, navy campaigns, scouts, entertainers, reporters, or any other modern profession-style campaign, but "in space."

Frontier Space is still here and supported. But not to the level of Traveller. Not to the depth of information, campaigns, one-off adventures, ships, and stars to explore, plus infinite universe generation. To be fair, Frontier Space does have random mission, installation, villain, system, sector, and planetary generation - so it is no slouch in this regard either. Both are far better than the original Star Frontiers. And the Frontier Space tables are entirely usable with Traveller, too.

Traveller wins on starship design, combat, and the wealth of designed and fully mapped starships. You can go heavy metal war-game with Traveller and have capital ship battles, and not just simulate them in narrative. What you design can be battled and tested. You can fight the premade ships. The space combat in Traveller is one of the best systems out there. High Guard even has fleet battle rules. It goes there, and you get a lot with this game.

And Traveller gives you an entire sector to create yourself. If you really loved the Frontier setting, you could recreate it there with a handful of stars on that map and still have plenty of room to explore. Of course, there will be neighbors around, or you could use the sector as a standalone place without the Imperium. 

So, who wins the Traveller versus Star Frontiers comparison?

Frontier Space needs to be in the discussion. Each game does something excellently. Traveller excels at both the macro game and the focused campaign games, and it has the best setting in science fiction gaming. Frontier Space excels at pulp space adventure comic-book science fiction. Star Frontiers has its classic setting.

 But, the winner?

The game you love.