I’ve created this guided tour for GMs and players who’ve played D&D and want to explore what else tabletop RPGs can do. It features 12 games arranged in a specific sequence, designed to show the full spectrum of RPG design philosophies. Think of it like a cruise with carefully chosen stops, each game highlights a distinct approach and builds on the one before.
I recommend a “TTRPG Tasting Menu” approach: run each game as a single, focused one-shot (a 3–5 hour session). This low-commitment, accelerated method is highly effective for learning, as it immediately showcases the system’s core philosophy. I include adventure recs for each system as an option. This allows you to experience the core genius and design lesson of all twelve games quickly, maximizing your design literacy per hour while completely avoiding the long-term scheduling headaches.
Feel free to skip games if they don’t click, extend others if you’re hooked, but know that each one teaches something fundamental about how RPGs work. These aren’t random picks; they form a deliberate learning path that covers the principles behind most games on the market.
This is not a superficial list of recommended games, though they are great games. The progression isn’t chronological (older→newer systems) or complexity-based (simple→complex), but conceptual. Each system introduces vocabulary needed for the next. This creates cumulative understanding.
I recommend keeping notes on what you like and dislike about each system. The games are cheaper than you might think (especially PDFs), and you can always split costs with your group.
This post covers the first six games to keep things readable. Ready for our first stop?
Knave: Just the Bare Necessities
If you’ve been playing D&D for a while, Knave might feel like a glitch in the system. No classes. No feats. No long ability lists. You roll your stats, pick some gear, and you’re done.
At first, it feels like something’s missing. Where are the builds? The tactical options? But then something clicks: you stop asking what your character is allowed to do, and start thinking about what makes sense.
Say you want to climb a wall. In D&D you’d roll Athletics, check your encumbrance. Knave just asks: do you have rope? Are you in heavy armor? You and your GM talk it through. It’s less about dice, more about what’s happening in the story.
You might start to notice that without rules steering every action, you improvise more. You’ll find combat is more dangerous too. Your character’s not a superhero, just a person with a backpack. Because you’re not invincible, every choice carries weight.
Knave is like a stripped-down workshop: it removes all the extras so you can see what really makes a game work. It reveals how different rule sets shape different kinds of play—and how sometimes, fewer rules open more doors.
Try it with: The Waking of Willoughby Hall or Winter’s Daughter. Both show how much story you can get from a short, simple ruleset.
13th Age: From Combat to Story
If Knave shows how simple rules can shape play, 13th Age does something different—it keeps the d20 system you already know but changes it to make character and story matter more. I covered this game in my article about the best well-rounded systems.
This game helps you see how rules can actually push the story forward, not just sit in the background. Every character has a One Unique Thing, like “the only person who saw the moon fall” or “a sword that talks in dreams.” These ideas aren’t just flavor, they shape the world and give the GM tools to build the story around you.
You also have connections to powerful figures called Icons: wizards, kings, tricksters, and villains. These relationships add drama, introduce plot twists, and help your character feel like part of something bigger.
Combat still feels like D&D, but it’s faster. There’s no grid, you just use simple distances like “nearby” or “far.” And each round an escalation die goes up, giving everyone better chances to hit. It keeps fights moving and builds momentum.
13th Age helps you see how rules can do more than just manage the game, they can push the story forward.
Try it with: The Strangling Sea or Eyes of the Stone Thief. Both show how 13th Age balances tactical fun with storytelling.
Dungeon World: Rules that Talk Like You Do
If 13th Age showed you rebuilding of familiar mechanics, Dungeon World (built on the Apocalypse World engine) rebuilds the way you play from the ground up.
It’s called fiction-first gameplay. Coming from D&D you’re probably comfortable with the GM describing situations and you declaring actions. DW flips that. Instead of rolling for skills and checking stats first, you describe what your character actually does. The rules only kick in when the story calls for it. You might be surprised by how much that simple shift changes.
The 2d6 system uses “fail forward” logic where misses don’t stop the action, they twist it. Setbacks become story fuel instead of dead ends. GMs follow specific principles and use “moves” to keep scenes dynamic and reactive. That framework makes shared storytelling feel grounded rather than chaotic.
You’ll probably find yourself focusing more on what your character does in the world than what move you want to trigger. That’s the real shift: your attention moves from game mechanics to in-world action.
Try it with: Servants of the Cinder Queen, an adventure that showcases the system’s strengths.
Fate: Your Story Becomes Your Toolbox
If Dungeon World showed you how to share control of the story, you’ve already learned something crucial. Fate picks up from there, and pushes that idea even further: it makes your character and the story part of the rules themselves. This evolution is why Fate was in my top 10 RPGs of all time.
Instead of just stats and gear, Fate uses Aspects—words or phrases that describe important parts of your character or the scene. You can use Aspects to get bonuses or to create complications, which means your flaws can actually help the story.
You may notice this makes you think differently about problems and challenges, because the rules encourage you to bring your character’s story into every dice roll. Fate replaces hit points with Stress and Consequences, turning damage into story events for your character. The Fate point system rewards you for owning your flaws: accept a compel, earn a point, and spend it to shape the story.
If you want to know how a system can support almost any genre or setting while giving players real control over the story, Fate is the perfect next step. I recommend the Fate Condensed rulebook.
Try it with: Worlds of Adventure or Atomic Robo for some great setting and adventure ideas.
Blades in the Dark: Gamified Improvisation
If Fate gave you tools, Blades in the Dark hands you a full blueprint for how stories can unfold together. This matters because Fate taught you to collaborate in building fiction, and Blades assumes you already have those skills.
You might notice how the game expects deep teamwork with your group and GM, using rules that keep the story moving and the tension high. Instead of planning every detail, you sketch broad heists and fill in the gaps as you play. Mechanics like the Stress track fuel everything–moves, flashbacks, recovery–but also bring consequences, making every choice feel risky and meaningful.
Between scores your crew recovers and expands its influence, creating a living world that changes over time. The core loop—ambition leading to consequences, which build pressure and open opportunities—keeps the story exciting and the players engaged.
Blades shows how a system can guide storytelling without forcing it, balancing structure and freedom so you can invent solutions while keeping the pace alive.
The rulebook includes good adventure hooks, and Haunts of Doskvol is great on Roll20. Scum & Villainy or A Fistful of Darkness offer different RPG flavors on the same engine.
Trail of Cthulhu: When the Story Becomes the Horror
If Blades showed you how structure can drive story forward, Trail of Cthulhu asks a different question: what if the system made sure you never got stuck, but took some control away from you to create better horror atmosphere?
Coming from D&D’s investigation rolls, you might be surprised by how Trail trades some player freedom for guaranteed progress. I picked Trail over Call of Cthulhu because it solves the biggest problem in mystery games through the GUMSHOE system: you always get the important clues.
That might sound strange coming from D&D, but here progress isn’t survival, it’s exposure. You’re rewarded with answers, and punished for having them. It’s faster, more focused, and keeps the tension building. Sanity and Stability track how your mind handles the horrors, one for the cosmic horror and one for everyday fear. The more you learn, the more it costs you.
Trail shows you how a horror game can guide you through dread instead of jump scares. It’s not about combat or dice, it’s about what happens when you know too much. Trail marks a turning point in this tour: it turns game rules into real feelings, making it a crucial step before exploring games in my next post.
Try it with: The Black Drop or Eternal Lies—two adventures that showcase Trail’s great strength.
By now, you’ve probably noticed what these six games have in common. They all explore how mechanics can serve story, but each takes a very different path, from Knave’s elegant simplicity to Blades’ structured improvisation. In fact I asked BitD creator John Harper what he thought of my idea, featuring his game and he responded, “Thanks for sharing this (and for featuring Blades). It looks like a cool project.”
If this feels like enough for you, that’s totally fine. You’ve built a strong toolkit for understanding how most modern RPGs work. But if you’re curious about how far tabletop RPGs can stretch, you’re ready for the next six games, which push those boundaries much further.