In which the verser is trained by a master.

Sometimes the handwriting on the wall isn’t so important as all that, and sometimes maybe it’s just important to have it there.

Where I explain why GMing when you’re not in the mood is a bad idea.

In which the verser circles the square.

People are different, and yet the same.  Sometimes the things that make us different distinguish us as part of some other group, and that can play against us.

In which the verser is mistaken for a bueraucrat.

Taking MJ’s idea of using prophecy in an RPG and turning in into a way to use your improv skills.

It can be interesting to try to tell the future of the characters in the game, but it requires a bit of care.  Here are a few tricks that may help.

In which the verser chills out.

The Civil War ends peacefully, but rears its head on the frontier.