Reeling from the psychic damage of 21st-century life, I’m going with the millennial option and continuing with my ongoing regression to childhood. The fruit of this endeavour? A campaign pitch loosely based on the faded memories of children’s toy adverts from the 90s: Castle Doomstone.
We’d use 5e for the high-power-fantasy war game aspect, maybe even 2024 rules. The campaign begins with the heroes being created whole cloth by a shimmering face trapped in a massive glass tube. This (seemingly) benign intelligence has manufactured them from flesh vats to protect Castle Doomstone, and none too soon; the deadly sorcerer Zarthax approaches quickly. If he (or his creations) wins access to the Castle, the whole world will end.
First Half
Each session would be divided into two chunks. In the first, players would navigate the castle they’re in. For the first session, this probably means going outside to meet the sorcerer on the field of battle, outside the castle. In later sessions, it’s time you spend exploring the castle. It would be full of secret doors and Metroidvania-style locked areas.
As the campaign progressed, the characters would discover more about the castle and themselves. Maybe it comes out that they weren’t created by the tube-face; maybe they just had their memories wiped.
This section would be full of traps, puzzles, and roleplay. Then, halfway through, an alarm would sound as the sorcerer arrived, cutting off exploration and bringing the PCs into battle.
Second Half
In the second half, the PCs get a chance to square off against a reoccuring villan paired with his wacky monster of the week. For the last hour (or however long) you dedicate the session to roleplaying with the BBEG and getting into 5e’s combat system. Big set pieces. Huge Monsters. High stakes and high levels. Fights meant to use every resource the player’s have.
You’d get to reuse both the interior map of the dungeon used in the first half and then the battle map used in the second. Over the course of the campaign, the castle could be built out. Eventually, the corpses of the massive monsters you’ve brought down could dot the battlefield, maybe even giving off area effects and auras to add tactical interest.
The Ancient Aesthetics
All aesthetic choices would be dragged through the same ideological strainer that animators in the 80’s had to contend with: is this toyetic?
One week, the Sorcerer shows up with a dude who’s got a steamroller for a mouth. Next week, it’s a dinosaur that changes into a tank when it reaches half-health. After that, it’s the hypnotized prince of the birdmen. Over time, some of these characters may even join the players’ side, populating the castle with a self-chosen village of oddities and helpers.
At every step, the emphasis is on building familiarity, like with an episodic picaresque cartoon. Every session the castle grows. Every session, the sorcerer takes new opportunities to form grudges with the players. Everything deepens. Like toys at the bottom of a child’s box, nothing gets left behind.
Finishing Thoughts
Give it all a bit of a vapourwave apocalypse setting: diamond deserts, floating ziggaruts, maybe some skateboard werewolves. Blast the Blood Dragon OST. See if you can get some old action figures to double for minis. Ask players to find a way to moralize to the TV audience at the end of every ‘episode’.
Is there anything here? Would you play in such a game? Or do you prefer something more in a classic OSR vein? Tell us what you like below! And if you liked this, read some more of this blog. We did a whole lot in 2025, and we hope you’ll join us for 2026!