Here’s a design thread I’ve been noodling on: what if a character sheet wasn’t built from Strength, Dexterity, or Intelligence—but from the heavens? What if your fate and foibles were literally written in the stars? Astrology is all about inevitability. You don’t choose your Sun, Moon, or Rising sign—you inherit them, much like 3D6 down the line.

Five evocative stats—already cleaner than STR/DEX/INT, IMHO.

Planets + HousesHouses govern where in life a planet’s influence manifests:

Planets + SignsSigns tell you how the stat expresses itself:

Planets + Houses + Signs (the crunchy version)Planets = what you doHouses = where you do itSigns = the manner in which it’s done

Yes, it’s baroque—and I dig it. I think it has baked in drama: you work with the fate you’re given, not the one you choose. That appeals to me as a player and a designer. I’m imagining character sheets designed like horoscopes—arcane, symbolic, loaded with narrative hooks. Could be too fiddly… or it could be the next big indie chassis🤷🏾‍♂️

I think you could definitely use this character generation by horoscope for fantasy RPGs; modern magic or supernatural games seem solid. I’m adding it to my digital notes folder right next to details on Vancian magic revisited, troupe-style West Marches, and Debt Punk!

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We’re off for a couple of weeks, and that’s fine. The game lives on in my head anyway.

My Vulture Knight, Kelwyn, is AMPED about the upcoming Elf Hunt. He’s never seen an elf, and in Mythic Bastionland, the elf is a Myth. They show up as major encounters, dangerous and strange, with all the weight of legend...or at least that’s how it feels as a player! I’ve deliberately held off reading the GM-facing sections so I can enjoy it fresh as a player. Judd will have to weigh in on what The Elf ACTUALLY is from the GM side! Meanwhile, I’m still mulling what to do with my new Glory points.

Speaking of downtime (see last week’s Musing), our Flying Circus table picked right up after weeks away—proof of how strong the game’s downtime cycle is.

For those unfamiliar: Flying Circus is a PbtA game of fantasy aviation, set in a post-war world where mercenary pilots fly rickety planes for coin and survival. Missions are dangerous, tactical, and crunchy. But downtime? Downtime is where the stories bloom—but I’ve said that before!

My character came out of the last mission with 7 Stress. Through drinking, brawling, bickering through a parade in our honor, heckling a troupe, and finally cleaning my plane, I burned off 5 Stress and turned it into 5 XP. That’s the magic of the system: coping mechanisms, messy or otherwise, become advancement.

And downtime isn’t just mechanical—it drives fiction forward. One crewmate, Rainer, picked up an obligation during their “unwinding time.” And now owes a “favor” to criminals. Naturally, our next mission is for those same criminals calling on that marker. In character, I trust Oscar, and Oscar trusts Rainer—so we’re doing the mission, no questions. Out of character, we players all know this is a disaster waiting to happen. That tension is delicious.

Thanks for reading, playing, and supporting the strange stuff.