# Striking the Right Cadence *Created:* 2026-11-12, *Modified:* 2026-11-12 ![[Striking the Right Cadence (cover).png]] *Metronome icon © Delapouite / game-icons.net (CC BY 3.0)* I've been so focused on one project that I've fallen behind in keeping up with stuff. I've only now gotten to this video on Cadence by [ChubbyFunster](https://x.com/ChubbyFunster), and I encourage everybody to watch it.  Now you might be forgiven for wondering why someone who absolutely focuses on GM-less play and play without a scenario would be recommending you a video that specifically comes from someone who focuses on games that are *strongly* GM-centric and very heavily scenario-led. The answer is that the man can talk about games and game theory, and even when I disagree with him, he makes excellent points. I know this makes me a weirdo because I enjoy the work of people who game in ways that I don't choose to myself, but hey, there had to be a few of us out here. When it comes to discussing cadence, though, here I literally have nothing to add. Everything he said was correct. He covered the topic. It's a quick, straightforward video that touches on something I don't think we talk about enough. But perhaps surprisingly to people who don't play GM-less games and don't play solo games, the points he makes are applicable there as well. It's very tempting in solo play — but in GM-less play as well — to try and over-present content. In a journaling game, you sometimes feel like you need to write paragraphs on paragraphs before you "resort" to the mechanics to prompt the next bit. In games that are devoted to a more immediate playstyle, solo or GM-less, it's surprising how much that compulsion can fall on you. Maybe it's just me, because I do tend to write 10,000 words to talk about toast, but other people have reported the same sort of experience. I'm not entirely alone. Particularly in games like **[[Loner]]** and **Ironsworn**, ones that deliberately have oracles and processes that hinge on asking questions to the mechanics and letting them answer, you have to give yourself space to ask the questions. If you turn it into a massive writing exercise with a few mechanical affordances along the way, it's easy to get burned out and think of it as if it's a writing exercise. It turns into a novel, and that's not really the experience they're intended to deliver. As is my usual wont, let's go with an example, because nothing teaches quite so much as actually showing how you do it, if you would be so kind. Open up your copy of the **Loner** SRD to the **[[Loner - Prime Time Hero|Loner: Prime Time Hero]]** section. Let's put together a quick little character for our example, because everything is better with character generation. It's 1984, the era of the greatest action hero movies in all of history, and our boy is a bit of a sleazy Hollywood agent and a fixer. If you need something, he can get it. He probably has the guy that provides it on speed dial. In fact, he has a cell phone, which is pretty unusual for 1984. Sure, it's the size of a briefcase, and the handset's the exact size and weight of a brick, but it's a cell phone. He also has a nickel-plated .22 in an appendix carry. What he wants most in life is to get rich and get laid, but he's got a problem: he needs to buy a kilo of cocaine for a big movie star who just can't get it together in his trailer without a little bump.[^1] > [!info] **Clay Thornton** — *a sleazy Hollywood agent and a fixer* > > **Skills:** > - **Knows a Guy** — if you need something, he can get it, and the guy who provides it is on speed dial. > - **Sells It** — the pitch that gets a star out of a trailer and a client off the hook. > > **Frailty:** > - **Can't walk past a star with a problem and money to burn** — which is exactly how he ends up buying a kilo. > > **Gear:** > - **A cell phone the size of a briefcase** — the handset's the exact size and weight of a brick. > - **A nickel-plated .22** — appendix carry. > > **Goal:** Get a kilo of cocaine for a certain movie star. Whatever it takes. > > **Motive:** Get rich. Get laid. > > **Luck: 6** Right, so we're out here in Hollywood and Vine looking to score a kilo of cocaine. It's 1984, it's dark, and we're wearing shades. Clay's the kind of guy to be wearing a **Miami Vice** linen suit in California, where it's visually out of place, just because he thinks it makes him look cool. So that gives us the who and the what. Now we've got an open horizon. What's the first move? Clay's got to do something. We're under the gun here. In a traditionally architected RPG, this would probably be where you told the GM that you wanted to see if you could find somebody to buy that much coke from. But we don't have a GM. We've just got the system, and that's fine. It means that we need to redirect the play loop into a question. *Can Clay actually call somebody and arrange for some coke?* That's the question we ask. Before we roll it, we count the tags, because in **Loner** that's how we figure out if we have advantage or disadvantage. Clay's concept — a sleazy Hollywood agent and a fixer — says he's the man who knows where things are. **Knows a Guy** says it again with a phone number attached. **Sells It** only matters once somebody needs talking around, and nobody does yet. The frailty is why he's on the phone at all rather than at home with his money. The phone is the call; the .22 hasn't come off the belt. Two tags pulling the same way buy an advantage — one extra Chance die, keep the best of them. It's only advantage because in **Loner** you can only have advantage, neutral, or disadvantage. There's no such thing as double advantage or double disadvantage.[^2] > [!info] **Does Clay get the kilo on short notice?** > - 🎲 Chance 3, 3 → **3** · Risk **4** · *(advantage)* → **No** Harsh. The dice say no. Even with an advantage, sometimes things are hairy. Clay can't get the right guy on the phone. Now, I could write two solid pages of dialogue and description about how Clay tries to do it and how he gets the runaround, but I don't have to. I could if I wanted to, paying attention to cadence. I probably *shouldn't* unless I were going back and turning this into a fictional retelling rather than an example. That might be appropriate, but we're playing right now, and even this discussion is probably too long. Clay is standing there with a cell phone in his hand, staring at it like it just grew fangs and bit him, which in a sense it did. Nobody's got stuff tonight. Not a dealer, not a junkie, nobody. So what do you do about that? Why is that? It feels like something Clay should be looking into, at least if he wants to deal with it and get out of this situation. Can Clay set up a meeting with somebody in the business so that he can have a little chat about what's going on? Let's ask the Oracle. We count the same tags again: the concept puts him in the business, **Knows a Guy** gets him a name, and **Sells It** is what turns a name into a meeting. That's advantage — one extra Chance die, keep the best of them — and it's still only one, because tags don't stack past that. > [!info] **Can Clay set up a meeting with somebody in the business so that he can have a little chat about what's going on?** > - 🎲 Chance 6, 1 → **6** · Risk **1** · *(advantage)* → **Yes** Excellent, we've got that going for us. Clay gets one of his street contacts on the phone. Freddy the Monkey, so named for his particularly hirsute form. Freddy's willing to take a meeting, so they head down to a run-down corner diner in one of the shadier parts of LA and have a sit-down over some coffee.[^3] So what's the problem? Normally we would ask the GM that question. Let's see if there's anything in the book that'll give us a hand — like a random table that has problems that would be appropriate. > [!info] **Investigation Obstacles** > - 🎲 **65** / 66 → **The hero's own methods land them on the wrong side of the law** Well, that's unexpected. Looks like Clay's been a little loud in his business tonight, and the cops have had him under surveillance. Unfortunately, everybody knows it. Everybody is unhappy about it — to the point where they don't want to deal with him. Freddy's pretty uncomfortable with it himself, but Clay's come through for him before, so telling Clay the heat's on is a kindness that he can afford, but only just. Again, I could have written three pages of dialogue and action there, but a simple paragraph suffices. That combined with some random inspiration can take you a very long way. Play flows more naturally if you don't force it. Pay attention to how asking questions makes the scene work. If there *were* a GM who was sat behind the scenario, he'd deeply appreciate it. Asking him questions is the fastest and easiest way to trigger his imagination and memory to bring you more of the experience. It's okay to ask for more clarification. In fact, it's desirable. Every question you ask builds the world in your mind and in everyone else's minds. As for Clay, we're going to let him hang for a while. He's going to have to find his own way out, and probably a supplier while dodging the cops. Good luck, boys. Whether you're playing an extremely rules-minimalist solo TRPG or a very traditional GM-centric game like **ShadowDark**, keeping the cadence up is crucial for getting the best performance out of yourself and the game. Don't detail dump. Don't obsess. Don't read right out of the book, no matter what side of the book you're on. Hit the important points. Invite the players to ask questions. You'll end up with a better experience, work the game mechanics more effectively, and find that it just works. Let it work. [^1]: Has anyone warned you that I absolutely love making characters? No, I absolutely love making characters. [^2]: For that, you may want to see **[[Ensemble]]**, which uses much the same framework, but extends it for multiplayer. [^3]: Pointedly *not* **[Musso and Frank](https://mussoandfrank.com)**, my favorite place to eat in LA, and the only reason I would ever consider going back to that godforsaken city.