The Blog page is up now! You can read the first post, about how I've come to really enjoy running two TTRPGs at once. If you'd like to read it, go ahead and check out the Blog tab up above.

The About page isn't ready quite yet! Check back later.
Please enjoy this snippet from EDIFY in the meantime :)

Name: Drake
Pronouns: He/Him
Pretend Job: TTRPG designer
Real Job: Office loser
Animals: One cat who sucks
Interests: My fiancée, TTRPGs, synth heavy music, board games, old video games, DC comics.

Now Running: DIE RPG, Dragonbane (on hiatus)

Now Playing: Dungeon World (Eberron homebrew), Forbidden Psalm (Solo)



Next up I'll likely be running His Majesty the Worm, but I'm also chewing on Mothership.

Construction Time Again Depeche Mode 1983
"Depeche Mode at it's beepy boopiest. Lots of earworms, and some fairly potent political messages. Criminally underrated."

From beyond comprehension, beyond thought, an immeasurable force nestled into the core of our being. It studied us, watched us grow, watched us fight. It became fascinated by our natural order, our unity, our division. Fascination blossomed until rotting to vile contempt. A curiosity to watch us devolve into chaos began to swell, and we would soon be viewed as toys. Cosmic entertainment. Through its array of organized chaos, it imbued humans with a fraction of the array’s power, a chance to become closer to the entity. Bringers of hate and pain, warriors, tyrants, grifters, synchronized with the being’s forbidden knowledge to deepen the division between themselves and the carnal forms. The enriched men reigned in glory until gifts-unknown ravaged their souls beyond recognition. Torched by powers unmeant for mortals. Hubris proved to be the entity’s folly, its overly-generous application of blessings killed off the strongest fodder faster than the initiates could be incubated.

Arcane influence of the entity’s foul powers are argued by lowly non-believers and deemed as fiction, yet widespread discontent has left nature vulnerable to tampering. The quest for capital casts societies into familiar hierarchies. Kings and warlords have been replaced by CEOs and rhetorical mouthpieces driven by material gain. Serfs reimagined as salarymen. Class division has become so rigid that poor men are less privileged than rich men’s dogs. Empathy is dead. Cruelty is paramount.

A desperate call for the entity to return.

And so the entity willed itself into existence once again. The exchange teems with stockbrokers whose pockets are lined with investments made by godly insight. Shareholders manipulate the market not through lobbying, but ritual. Even the most basic of technologies harness shortcuts and enhancements from the array. The powerful have become dependent on an entity that only wishes to watch them suffer.

Some will be aware of the entity’s influence, others blind, and more simply won’t care. Nothing is ever going to change, but you can make your mark.

Your time has come. Take the stage and play your part in the madness. Claw and scramble over everyone else. Kill for your spot at the altar. Make the entity notice you. Grab it by its palm and kiss it. Stab it. Lick it. Fuck it.

Whether you stand against the chaos or embrace it entirely, the sun will rise, your hair will thin, and timesheets are due at 5 PM on Friday.