Nested Adventures through Layers of Play
Discussing the joys and implications of games within games
Building a Castle
Taking a small sojourn away from tabletop games for our introduction, let’s talk about Minecraft. It’s a pretty hit-or-miss game with folks, with one of the largest dividers being direction. Some players thrive on open-ended building and endless quests, while others do better with structured objectives or a guided narrative. Neither playstyle is better—they’re just different. After all, in tabletop games, most players prefer having a game master to guide them.
“Life is creating internal worlds to manage while we fail to manage the entropy around us. That’s how we process, how we cope and how we create.”
- Joel Haver, Review of ‘The Boy and the Heron’
For me, Minecraft has always been a landing space—a place where my friends and I could connect across our shared but physically-distant stages of life: high school, college, the COVID era, and adulthood. One of the key features of sandbox games like this is banter! It’s just really great having fun going back-and-forth with bits and jokes. However, even in limitless environments, there’s only so much you can do before things start to feel aimless. That’s where rules come in. Limitations are what really hold a recipe for growth, innovation, and fun. They provide structure.
At one point, we found that everyone in our group was scattered across the world, leading to isolation and lag. Around the same time, I had a craving for intricate, labyrinthine construction. So, we created an agreed-upon rule: all new structures had to connect to blocks already built, starting from a single crafting table. This simple rule gave birth to what we called Castle. It was a huge success and inspired future seasons where new rules emerged and custom code was added to assist in facilitating our agreements. All games require agreed upon rules to function.
1. Games are a form of fun. That gives us enjoyment and pleasure.
2. Games are form of play. That gives us intense and passionate involvement.
3. Games have rules. That gives us structure.
4. Games have goals. That gives us motivation.
5. Games are interactive. That gives us doing.
6. Games are adaptive. That gives us flow.
7. Games have outcomes and feedback. That gives us learning.
8. Games have win states. That gives us ego gratification.
9. Games have conflict/competition/challenge/opposition. That gives us
adrenaline.
10. Games have problem solving. That sparks our creativity.
11. Games have interaction. That gives us social groups.
12. Games have representation and story. That gives us emotion.
From Digital Game-Based Learning (McGraw-Hill, 2001) by Marc Prensky
Like any good system, Minecraft taught us that rules—whether they offer freedom or impose limits—are essential for creating shared experiences. They provide the framework for common ground, much like laws or currency in the real world. Rules deepen play, allowing games to layer together, as we will talk on further today.
As an aside, I do chat further on this Castle story in the video below, alongside other themes of archiving and connection.
Bridging Games
Changing a game’s rules can refresh it—like adding tag to Content Warning or stress mechanics to D&D from Flying Circus. Rules mold play spaces, and tweaking them—pushing and pulling intentionally—uncovers the best fit for your group. Pre-written systems can often benefit from a bit of tailoring for your community’s unique vibe.
Layering Functions
Mechanical use
One simple way to combine or expand games is by incorporating concrete mechanics from existing systems directly into a ruleset. Last week, I discussed “Playing with Loss in the Hive,” where Narrative Alchemy connected their experiences with dementia to the familiar mechanics of Jenga. Jenga—a standalone, well-known game—was seamlessly integrated into the mechanics of a larger system, creating new layers of meaning and play.
As another example, Deep Rock Galactic has mechanics set inside a chest, directly inspired by Flappy Bird, allowing you to earn a new item that assists in how you interact with the next swarm. It does not bring a lot to the story, but a minigame does add some simple and approachable variation.
Means of Expansion
Layering games can fill gaps where the original may fall short. For instance, The Quiet Year can be used to worldbuild a town that players later explore in Dungeons & Dragons. However, combining too many systems can be overwhelming, especially when rules clash or require heavy modification. This is why rules-lite systems often integrate more smoothly.
Another submission from the Help the Hive game jam is For the Hive, where players act as a hivemind exploring the stars for knowledge. Its simple mechanics, reminiscent of Powered by the Apocalypse, make it easy to adapt. The game's concept of fast space travel sparked my curiosity about how interstellar lag could influence culture, much like in All Tomorrows, where peace reigns due to the vast distances limiting conflict.
In rules-lite games like For the Hive, the framework offers just enough structure, giving players the freedom to shape the story. It’s ideal for groups willing to bring their own creativity to the table. I’m eager to see how it develops, perhaps evolving into new worlds and settings.
This “plug and play” modularity is also useful when an outside system needs more mechanics (like adding pirates to a land-based game). Rules-lite systems allow designers to create engaging worlds without the burden of complex balancing, much like how fan fiction lets writers explore existing settings without starting from scratch.
Itch.io listing rules-lite tabletop games
Depth of character and player connection
Creating a space reflects our values, yet we often forget to extend this beyond our home into shared environments. Offering your characters familiar games or lighthearted tasks, like a local fair with animal masks or greased-pig wrestling, invites them to express themselves naturally. Asking players about their character’s mask choice, for instance, can spark immediate roleplay, deepening connections. Playing in-character with real cards and dice adds another immersive layer, building camaraderie within the in-game party and out-game players while enriching the story through small, flavorful moments. Then, when peace shifts to chaos—like a collapsing tower—the stage is set for the next adventure.
Limitation and visualization
Returning to Minecraft’s charm, memorable moments emerged from playful constraints—summer homes in enemy capture-the-flag territories, absurd challenges once we mastered mechanics. Reflecting on childhood games reveals that limitations can inspire just as much as freedom. For instance, using visual aids in D&D can focus imagination, offering a glimpse of the game’s reality while maintaining storytelling flexibility. It is up to you what that visual aid looks like, and maybe it’s ok to use a silly videogame space to help facilitate a session.
Comedy, Insight, and summarization
Introduce dynamic scenes like a stage play, haunted hayride, or training montage, where characters step into the roles of others—engaging in “meta-acting” to reveal their own strengths and weaknesses along with those of their assumed roles. Encourage players to enrich the scene by describing the humorous details of shoddy craftsmanship, unexpected mishaps, and improvised solutions. Offer bonuses for any predictions that play out in the actual mission, creating rewards for both strategic insights and playful creativity. In the end, they may just uncover something serious amid the ‘filler-episode’ before the big fight.
In closing, even the most lighthearted scenes can carry deeper meaning and opportunities for character growth. By layering games you help embrace humor and unexpected moments while discovering surprising insights into the players and their characters. In the end, these playful moments aren’t just filler; they’re the bridges that carry us into our next big adventure, ready to face whatever comes with better-connected camaraderie and creativity.