Starter Packages

I'm obliged to remind you that there are just a few days left to back Into the Odd Remastered on Kickstarter.

And I can get away with such rampant marketing, as today's post is actually connected to the work I've been doing on one of the stretch goals.

Starter packages are one of the features that people really enjoy about Into the Odd. The initial inspiration came from this post by Brendan, where he creates a selection of equipment packs for the big four OD&D classes based on the starting wealth roll. 

I loved the quickness of that method, and thought there was potential to evoke a world through these entries, much in the same way that people had recognised in equipment tables. Keen readers that spot garlic in the D&D equipment list will assume that this is a world with known vampires. I wanted to give every player a little nugget of world knowledge just with the gear they get handed for free.

So you end up with this.

And I've done a whole new table as one of the ITO Remastered stretch goals, which really forced me to evaluate what makes a good starter package. 

Really you want to look at each of the (generally) three pieces of equipment individually, and then consider the package as a whole. And guess what? You're looking to hit three different notes.

• Useful
• Exciting
• Informative

Useful Equipment

It's easy to think of Into the Odd characters as down on their luck losers, scaping together whatever bits and pieces they can, and some of the starting equipment certainly points in that direction. In spite of this, we're still playing a game about exploration and problem solving, so no matter how humble the equipment, you're still presenting your players with tools that they can put to use. Some require more creativity than others, but that's just another thing we want to encourage.  

Exciting Equipment

Now maybe this is just me, but I get excited when I see my character starts the game with a pot of glue, or a pigeon, or a net. Of course the big flashy Arcana are exciting, but a lot of the gear in this table thrives on novelty, with Electric Bastionland going even harder in this direction. For those used to more typical D&D-style equipment, it's refreshing to get something weird or even just weirdly mundane. We want items that players will light up when they see, even if its laughing at the absurdity. Useful items are those that the players will find a use for; exciting items are those that the players will enjoy finding a use for. 

Informative Equipment

Good equipment tells you something about the world, and suggests things about your character. At the simplest level, weapons like muskets and bombs nudge you toward a certain set of assumptions, muddied by sitting alongside maces and shields. Weirder entries like "Glowing Eyes" and "Dreams show your undiscovered surroundings" set some of the tone for oddity existing everywhere. Some items imply something about your history, but I've avoided being too prescriptive here. Owning a set of manacles could imply wildly different things about your character's background, but the specific interpretation is up to you. 

The Complete Package

Now the real trick here is that not every part of the package needs to hit all three notes. Instead, you should aim for a package that hits them all when viewed as a whole. Sometimes it's all in the combinations. A dagger isn't that interesting alongside a spear, but it raises more questions next to a bag of sweets or syringe. 

Examples

So let's see how some of these new secret Starter Packages hold up under scrutiny. 

Useful: Your first weapon is always useful, so everybody generally gets one. Poison also fits, but the Bell is less obviously useful. 
Exciting: Poison is always exciting, and tying it to mushrooms gives it a twist on the classic vial with skull and crossbones. I guarantee the player that rolls this will try to get somebody to eat these within the first session. Again, the bell feels like a weak link, but it's all part of the plan. 
Informative: This one is really focused on asking questions about your character. The axe carries certain implications, but the bell is the real spark here. Despite being a super mundane item, it subtly nudges you toward a few different backgrounds. Town crier, of course, or perhaps some religious significance. It's wide open to anybody that would need to make a racket though, perhaps the classic "Bring Out Your Dead!" person. 

Useful: The weapon and Arcanum give this a solid 2/3, but I'll talk about the usefulness of the perfume in the next section. 
Exciting: Arcana are always exciting, so here we let it be the star of the show. Perfume might feel like a purely cosmetic item, but I think creative players will relish the challenge of finding a use for it down in some awful hellhole. 
Informative: In previous starter packages I've tried to avoid overly arcane words. If you're reading this blog then of course we know what a jezzail is, but never forget that we're not normal. For the Alternative Starter Packages I allowed myself a few words that might send players over to Wikipedia. With muskets appearing to be the standard, what does it mean that your character owns a more bespoke, uncommon type of gun? Combined with the perfume and Arcanum it implies a certain worldliness, or perhaps vanity. Lots of ways you could go with this one. 

Useful: Their weapon is bad, although does at least have some secondary function. The worms are certainly challenging and the odour is generally the opposite of useful. However, it's worth noting that this is a Starter Package for a character that has a stat of 18, so their usefulness is already innate in whatever natural talent they happen to possess. 
Exciting: Now maybe I'm strange, but I do enjoy getting this sort of entry. It's designed to prompt some laughter at the table, but again I think the jar of worms is simultaneously bad, but has just enough potential to be useful if you're clever about it. 
Informative: Not so much informative of the world, but there's no shortage of implication about your character here. Gardener? Fisher? Worm farmer? Just somebody that really likes worms?

To get your hands on the full game with the new Alternative Starter Packages, go and back Into the Odd Remastered on Kickstarter before the campaign closes this week!

Rotation

This Bastionland Editorial was originally sent as a reward to all Patreon supporters, and is released freely on this site a week after its original publication.

If you want to support my blog, podcasts, and video content then head over to my Patreon.

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This month I've picked up a few little two-player boardgames to add to our collection, and the experience is always bittersweet.

Sweet, because these three games are all pretty great in their own ways. Let's do a mini-review after a handful of plays.

Blitzkrieg by Paolo Mori - A great little distillation of fighting WW2 across six theatres. The kind of ultra-competitive back and forth clash that really suits this 15-20min play time, as you can grab a rematch straight away if you feel cheated. Just enough randomness to prevent things being taken too seriously. 

Air, Land, & Sea by Jon Perry - Believe it or not I'm not exactly a WW2 enthusiast, but this game also shares Blitzkrieg's theme, and it's fascinating to look at the two side. They're both quick, low footprint games that try to distil the the grand strategy of fighting a global war into a simple set of mechanics, but this one is really all about "pick your battles". It's a dead simple card game on the surface, but the twist is that you can withdraw from any round of play if you feel like you're going to lose. The earlier you withdraw, the fewer points your opponent gets for winning. So if you play cleverly you could lose twice as many battles as you win, but still win the war because you knew when to pull back and your opponent committed too hard to their losses.  It's that same sort of "agonising fun" that I get from Lost Cities.

The Fox in the Forest by Joshua Buergel - Along the same lines as Air, Land, & Sea, this is a simple card game that's made interesting by a single twist. You want to beat your opponent, but if you beat them by too much you'll be branded greedy and them humble, allowing them to take the majority of the points at stake for themselves. There's clear DNA from some traditional card games here (Oh Hell, which I know as Blob) but it's twisted just far enough and given a nice coat of paint. 

So that's the sweet, but it always comes with bitter. Making room on the shelves.

After a thorough audit I ended up with six games to sell onward, but the bitterness isn't all that strong this time. I feel like each of them has served a purpose and is just ready to move on to a new loving home. I thought I'd look at why that is.

Mysterium by Oleksandr Nevskiy - This is the perfect example of a game that I've thoroughly enjoyed playing, but I noticed it just wasn't ever coming out to the table. Then, at a local games night I played Mysterium Carnival, which is the same game made smaller, quicker to set up, faster to play, and easier to teach. If I had that version I'd probably keep it in my collection with the other small games, but I think it's highlighted that this one just doesn't justify the big box and somewhat involved setup.

Mr Jack Pocket by Bruno Cathala and Ludovic Maublanc - This was one of the first really small games that I picked up, and I've got lots of fun memories with it. It's a great little asymmetric, competitive puzzle, but there are just so many other small games that grab my attention more. 

Undo: Cherry Blossom Festival by Michael Palm, Lukas Zach - I was sceptical of this game. You can only play it once, it has a really short play time, and the reviews weren't good at all. Despite that, I enjoyed digging into this little time-travel mystery. As with any mystery game there's a fair amount of guesswork involved, especially in the first few rounds, but I genuinely felt like we managed to puzzle out the truth and reach a satisfying ending. Purely selling this one on because it's a one-and-done game. 

Sub Terra by Tim Pinder - Love the idea of this one, spelunking through horrifying caves with your team of specialists and trying to get to the surface alive. Good, simple rules, slightly fiddly setup but nothing major. Was hoping this would recapture some of the magic of when we first picked up Pandemic, our first venture into modern boardgames, with a similarly novel theme and streamlined rules. But where Pandemic's simple rules created interesting situations, our few plays of Sub Terra felt lukewarm by comparison. Of course you're at the mercy of the draw, but here we found it more annoying than exciting. It didn't help that we were playing with two players, which means taking two characters each. Perhaps this one would be better with a full team of six, but there are so many other games I'd rather bring out with a big group. 

The Crew: Search for Planet 9 by Thomas Sing - Trick Taking made into a coop game is a fantastic elevator pitch, and I was prepared to love this. In actuality it just didn't click with any of the groups I played it with. Similar to Hanabi, I think there's a slight disconnect between the presumed breeziness of a card game and the logic puzzle that emerges during play. Hanabi gets away with it because of the pure novelty of its backward-facing hands, leaving the Crew feeling a little dry by comparison. Some groups would love this, and I think I'd be right there with them, but I try to judge these games pragmatically based on the situations I'm likely to play in. 

Gloomhaven: Jaws of the Lion by Isaac Childres - Ohhhh this one's the Hot Take. I went through a rollercoaster with Gloomhaven. Weary dismissal when it was the new big-box hotness, intrigue when I saw that it actually had interesting mechanics, second wave of apathy when it became the all-conquering overlord of the hobby, and finally excitement when I heard that a streamlined version was in the pipeline. Then came a second ride on the big dipper! The thrill of setting up this luxurious game, concern as I realised the amount of bookkeeping that was actually required, anticipation as I started to see the potential for clever card play in each character, fatigue as I kept waiting for the scenarios to become interesting... And, well, that's sort of it. I love the card play, the monsters were just okay, and... to be honest I couldn't get excited all that much about anything outside of the characters. They're fantastic, but the missions never sparked our imagination. It's like the opposite of when I talk about "make a simple core and put it to work in interesting ways". It feels like the core is complex (mostly in a good way) and interesting but I never get to do anything exciting with it. Like buying a private jet and using it to visit the supermarket. Again, I see why some people love this and rank it as their number one game of all time, but my copy definitely deserves a new home. 

Running a Minimalist Game

After writing a bit about how I design games with minimalism in mind, my thoughts turned to whether this carries over to how I run games.

Standard disclaimer that this isn't the only way to run a game, this is just a look at how I tend to run games like Into the Odd and Electric Bastionland.

As with so many things, we're breaking this down into three parts.

Use Little

I must confess, I do occasionally break out an erasable battle mat but it's really just a whiteboard and I deliberately keep my maps super abstract. For the characters I use coloured pawns from Pandemic. 

But aside from physical tools, remember that you don't have to use every part of the rules buffalo. I still stand by this guidance and note that it doesn't include a section for "now begin using the combat rules". I can absolutely see somebody running a really fun game of ITO or EB just using this process and adjudicating combat through Dilemmas, Saves, and Consequences. 

So much of what makes for an enjoyable game for me exists outside of the rules, so the less I'm thinking about systems the more I can think about the world, the players, and their characters. 

Ask for Little

Perhaps it's because I often play with brand new players, or friends that only have a tangential interest in RPGs, but I always run my games in a way that asks for as little as possible from the players. 

"No, don't worry about reading any rules before we play. Yeah we'll do character creation right there on the night, nothing needed ahead of time. The setting? Aaah it's this big city called Bastion and it's weird but we'll discover that as we go". 

Now, just because I'm asking for little doesn't mean that I don't secretly expect a lot from them, but laying those expectations on them ahead of the game hasn't always been a fruitful approach for me. If I want players to get invested in their characters then I'll lay out opportunities to characterise them through play and ask them the occasional probing question. If I want them to care about the world then I'll do my best to make the world immediately interesting to both themselves and their character. 

Make it Matter

When running very simple systems there's always a risk that things start to feel arbitrary or inconsequential. The lightness of rules infects the fiction and you start to feel disconnected from the ground of your fictional world. 

Personally, I feel like simple rules let you make things matter more if you remember to keep it as a key focus of your game. 

The rules on the page won't give any distinction between wielding a Claymore (d8, bulky) and a Billhook (d8, bulky), but because nobody is worrying about a million small rules your mind is free to make that distinction significant. Description is a huge part of this, and should never be underestimated just because it doesn't carry mechanical weight, but in a rules-lite game of exploration and problem solving the difference of utility between a heavy blade and a spiky polearm often emerge gradually. 

Autopsy

This Bastionland Editorial was originally sent as a reward to all Patreon supporters, and is released freely on this site a week after its original publication.

If you want to support my blog, podcasts, and video content then head over to my Patreon.

-----------------------------

Last week I teased at my thoughts around why the Into the Odd Remastered Kickstarter has been so successful (so far). 

It's really something I should hold off on until I have more data, but with these things you never quite get a full picture, so why not just throw out unfounded theories instead?

As much as I might imagine that this is down to masterful game design and evocative writing, my gut feelings around Kickstarter point in five other directions. Take them all with a pinch of salt, but I'll at least try to think of lessons that we might take away for future crowdfunding projects. I can think of at least one exception to every one of these rules, so keep that in mind.

Warning, some of these words are made up to fit the timbre of the list. I also had to work quite hard to avoid the headings spelling out FART.

Allurity: This is really where it all started. Into the Odd had a beauty of its own in its first form, but it was a book-next-door appeal that doesn't grab eyeballs in the same way as this turquoise-magenta-tangerine cover, the psychedelic collages within, and even the ultra-crisp layout of the text itself. Learning what work to do myself and what to outsource is an ongoing process for me, but I'm extremely happy that I got Johan on board for the visuals of this book. Of course the text matters, but without that visual magnetism a lot of people won't get around to reading it. It doesn't need to be lush, full-colour, hardback decadence, but it should be something that can't be ignored.

Lesson 1: Whatever look you go for, make sure you have a look that won't be ignored.

Familiarity: This is the boring one, and the reason why we see so many films based on existing properties featuring recognisable actors. Even though Into the Odd is far from the most recognisable RPG, I suspect a good number of people have at least heard its name at some point in the past seven years. I could even dare to say that my name might have picked up a small amount of recognition at this point. This isn't the same as saying these things have a gold-standard reputation as marks of quality, but there's power in simply seeing a thing that you recognise by name. Add in Johan and Free League and you've got a much greater number of people that are looking at this project with at least some point of reference. Perhaps it adds just a small chance to grab their attention, but all these small factors add up.

Lesson 2: Keep making things and talking about them long enough that somebody might look at your new thing and think "oh, right, that thing".

Transparency: I try to live by this ideal in all of my work, but Kickstarters are often shrouded in a fog of mystery. Vague details and lofty promises have led to many a disappointed customer. I knew that I wanted to have a full readthrough video live before the KS launch, so I can show people exactly what they're getting, page by page. You get what you see, no mystery boxes here. 

Lesson 3: Give potential backers all the information you have to ensure their expectations will be met. 

Rapidity: Part of this comes from having the luxury of being able to almost finish this project before the Kickstarter was even announced, though bear in mind that most of the actual writing for this book was done like eight-to-ten years ago around full time work. That's all behind the scenes nonsense that backers don't care about, because all that really matters is I announced the Kickstarter three weeks before launch, you'll get your preview pdfs as soon as it finishes, and your physical books a few months later. I'd still like it to be quicker, but for a Kickstarter RPG at this scale that's a pretty rapid turn around. Anecdotal evidence, but I can't count the number of Kickstarters that I've almost backed only to see the reward is due a year later, then bailed out.

Lesson 4: Get as much done as you can before you even announce your project.

Rarity: This one is totally unfounded, and almost works against my Familiarity theory, but I think it helps that I'm not somebody that releases paid products every couple of months. I admire those writers that can make a dozen zines a year, but my style seems to have drifted towards "a load of free nonsense then a big proper book every few years". Anybody that enjoys my books probably knows that this is going to be the book for a good while, so they might be more inclined to jump aboard rather than skipping out. 

Lesson 5: Make your releases feel like a significant event. 

So there we go. I'll throw out one last round of pinches-of-salt and leave those theories with you. 

Designing for Minimalism

I spoke about this on last night's stream, but wanted to dwell on the subject a little.

I've made a bit of a point about wanting to make games that push up against the minimalist end of the spectrum, rather than drifting toward the middle. So what does this actually mean when it comes to the process of making a game?

I'll be referring to some parts of Project 10 as examples, but it's the same process I use when working on RPGs.

My thoughts on this can be summarised into a few main points. This isn't intended to be an exhaustive thesis on the matter, so much as the things that are currently at the forefront of my mind.

Minimalism is Compromise

Minimalism in games goes hand in had with abstraction. You're using a few simple rules to (typically) simulate something complex. In Project 10 terms you could break down every clash between units into its own game lasting hours. You'd consider the qualities, position, and condition of every individual soldier on the front line, and the wealth of specific manoeuvres and tactics that they could implement. 

Instead we roll the deliberately swingy Combat Dice and accept that all those factors are tied up in that roll. An attack came up with maximum damage? I guess the defender's front line got broken wide open. Roll a single point of damage, which got blocked by their Shield trait? Guess they pulled up the shield wall and held strong. 

The compromise is that the players don't get to have input on those little fictional details, but in return they get to focus on everything else. Which leads to...

What's the Point?

Making a quick, simple game is all well and good. You sit down and play it in less than an hour, pack it away, and declare it a good, elegant game. Then you forget it exists and start thinking about that monster-sized boardgame you've never managed to get to the table, or that RPG campaign you've been planning since you were twelve. 

In its current state, Project 10 runs nice and quickly, has a balance of strategic manoeuvring with chaotic drama. But what's the point of it all?

In all honesty, that's something I'm still working out, and it's all part of the process. I like that you can run battles so quickly that you can bash out a short campaign in an evening. I like that it's easy to make new army lists that feel different to each other. I like that the short, chaotic games lend themselves well to weird, asymmetric scenarios. But I need to put this all into practice on the page. The sample campaign and army lists are a start, but there's more room to grow here.

For a more complete example look at Electric Bastionland's single spread of rules being supported by hundreds of pages of flavour-filled characters, conducting procedures, and an oddendum of essays. Because the reader isn't spending hours learning the system I can bank on them actually exploring and absorbing that other stuff. 

Table Outranks Desk

It's so easy to sit at your computer and think about rules that this game should have.

I mean of course there should be a rule that lets skirmishers move after shooting. Of course these rocks should slow down units that move over them. Of course pikes should get a specific bonus against cavalry. People who read your game might even suggest these changes, whether they've played the game or not. Some people just want to help, after all. 

Don't go too far down the rabbit hole. Make the minimal viable game and get it to the table yourself, even if you're playing both sides. The stuff that happens on the table is the real test of whether a game needs to have more rules or not.

When you're getting feedback from others, ask for how the game felt at the table, not what they think they'd change or add if they were making this game. Ask them for their problems, you don't want their solutions. 

Cost Every Rule

At this point it's worth pointing out that I love rules! I think every game should have at least one.

And things get really interesting when you have two rules (see below) but for now let's look at the two sides of every rule.

Every rule has a cost. There's the cognitive load on the player of learning another rule, the literal space on the page, the indirect problems that could arise from its interaction with existing or future rules, and even an opportunity cost that comes from closing up an area of the design space. 

Sure, they sound bad, but remember the point here is to weigh them up against the benefits. I recently added a rule to P10 where units that are halfway to being destroyed are Shaken and no longer benefit from the second of their two traits. This rule definitely adds complexity, and it meant I had to reconsider each of the individual traits, but so far I feel like the benefit has been worth it. Now a unit with Shield and Brutal is significantly different to a unit with Brutal and Shield, and there's more incentive to pull your shaken units away from combat so that they can regroup, which is the sort of manoeuvring I want to encourage. 

But really the most interesting thing about that new rule is how it interacts with the traits and prebuilt units. It's almost like...

When there's less, each part matters more.

This can be both a good and bad thing. It's great when you have two simple mechanics that interact with each other in an interesting way, but finding those moments can be tough. It's a bit of a cliché to say that designing a simple thing is more difficult than designing a complex thing, and I don't necessarily think it's true, but it definitely carries a different sort of challenge. You've got to look out for those moments where things click together and jump on them before they escape.

Indulgent Epilogue

Last year I wrote about my early experiences with tabletop gaming, specifically how I spend the months before I actually owned any Warhammer rules or miniatures pouring over issues of White Dwarf, especially the battle reports with their armies arrayed and top-down maps of the battle as it played out.

I think Project 10 is all about trying to capture how those battles felt as I read them at ten years old. 

Stretch Goal Teases

So now that Into the Odd Remastered has hit all of its stretch goals I've been working away at getting them finished up to go into the final book.

Thought now would be a good time to give a little preview of my plan for each of them. Obviously this will all get polished up by me and presented beautifully by Johan, but for now you'll just have to endure them in raw, coarse text.

For Hopesend I didn't want to just add more buildings and people to the town. Instead, as you'll see with all of the stretch goals, I wanted to add more content that would allow for a longer visit to the Fallen Marsh area, perhaps more of a self contained little campaign in itself rather than just a preface to getting to Bastion. But, I can't ignore the fact that Hopesend does exist, at least in part, to get the players over to the big city itself. 

The approach I'm taking, which should please both purposes is, a selection of ships that you'll find docked up in Hopesend each time you visit. They all offer the promise of passage to Bastion, but their crew and passengers spill out into Hopesend itself, giving it a slightly different flavour each time. 

As with so much of the content in this adventure location, things are painted in somewhat broad strokes to provide inspiration while leaving the fine details up to the Referee. Plenty of tables in the Oddpendium to help with that sort of thing. 

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HOPESEND - Arrivals from Bastion

At any given time at least two ships from Bastion will be docked here. They don’t stay long. 

Roll d12 for each. 

1: Wavebreaker - Black ironclad waging a one ship war against the sea itself. Press-ganging new crew for its labyrinthine engine decks. 

2: Ever Autumn - Wealthy tourists terminally affected by plague enjoy a scenic tour of the Northern Waters. They look out through sealed windows, their nurses out seeking souvenirs. 

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The Fallen Marsh already got a fair bit of expansion in the remaster, so for the extra spread I wanted to inject extra flavour and try to tie some of the more disparate elements together slightly. I realise this is dangerously close to adding canonical explanations for some of the stranger encounters, but I'm always prattling on about giving more information aren't I? This also doubles up as a way of giving some of the regular people you'll encounter on the marsh a bit of extra flavour and utility. In my experience, the Fallen Marsh really shines when you let the hex contents and random encounters really play off each other in unexpected ways, and this should help to encourage that. 

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FALLEN MARSH - Marsh Myths

Anybody you meet in the Fallen Marsh knows at least a few myths, and will share them if they like you or want to scare you. They speak in fragments and riddles, but it’s all true, and they’ll even point you in the right direction. 

Roll d12 for each person you meet.

1: The White Sanctuary, taken by a thing from the depths of the night sky. They tried fire, acid, guns, but it always grew back, taking our brothers and sisters out of spite. (see Hex 24)

2: The Metal Man fell from the night sky into the ocean. Dragging itself to land it carried the carcass of a great Leviathan, leaving it as a trophy of its power. (see Hex 18 and Encounter 11)

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And finally the Iron Coral itself obviously this is the one part that got a huge amount of extra stuff already, so I know I didn't just want to add more of the same. 

With the extra depths to explore, and more reason to dwell in the Fallen Marsh, I wanted to put something there for players that dare to return to the coral after their initial expedition. A little twist to make each visit slightly different and disorienting without being utter chaos. 

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IRON CORAL - Echoes of the Iron Coral

The Coral changes with each passing day. When you enter the coral for the first time on any day after the first roll a d6. The Slope down from Room 0 on Level 1 leads to this Echo instead of Room 1.

Any other passages leading to Room 1, Level 1 take you there as normal, and you can still exit via the slope up to Room 0.  

Echo 1: Whispering Water

Vast Lake (comfortably warm, salty, incomprehensible whispering)
Dark Ceiling (faint star-like lights, disappear if you get too close)
North: Slope (up to 0)
East: Sound of waves lapping against stone (to Level 2, Room 20)
Special: Passing through the lake allows you to speak with any water-dwelling creatures for the rest of the day. 

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Hope that gives a good sense of where this extra content is headed. If you haven't already then you can check out the full Kickstarter here.

Mysteries

This Bastionland Editorial was originally sent as a reward to all Patreon supporters, and is released freely on this site a week after its original publication.

If you want to support my blog, podcasts, and video content then head over to my Patreon.

-----------------------------

So the Kickstarter is doing pretty well...

I'd say it's exceeded all my expectations, but the truth is for this campaign I genuinely didn't know how to make a forecast. 

Electric Bastionland had a lot of unknowns during its Kickstarter, but it was also a much simpler creature in many ways. The campaign was essentially relying on people that knew about my games and wanted to buy one in a big fancy book. The campaign certainly went beyond that, but I at least had that as a starting point. 

With Into the Odd Remastered there are a load of elements thrown in that I have no idea about. I know how many people bought Electric Bastionland, so that's a figure I can work from, but I don't know:

• How many people have a copy of Into the Odd
• How many people have read about or played Into the Odd in the past seven years without buying their own copy
• How many of my blog and stream viewers would actually buy a book
• How many people are drawn in from Johan's following of MORK BORG acolytes
• How many people are drawn in from Free League's following
• How many people just look at the new RPG Kickstarters and back things that they like the look of
• How many people will be drawn in from the various external video/podcast things I'm appearing on throughout this campaign

So if you've spoken to me about this campaign and I've been coy about making predictions, rest assured it isn't just part of my faux modesty, but it's genuinely just too much chaos for me to put into order.

Now while the forecast baffled me, I do love a premature autopsy. 

Yeah, it's not been 24 hours yet, but I think it's fair to call this first day a success.

Why? I have some hunches, but let's save the specifics for next week.