TechnicleeHow do I write a Daggerheart campaign frame? | One list, then stop
If you can say the campaign in a few sentences and name the extra dial, you already have the start of a frame.
A campaign frame is the short kit that tells a table what kind of story this is, and which extra dials you will touch. Fill the list, then stop. Session zero needs a pitch and an incident, not a gazetteer. A one-shot uses the same kit at one-night scale, with the incident happening tonight.
Here is the list I fill, how short a one-shot frame stays, how I test a pitch out loud, and what I print before they sit down.
What actually goes in a campaign frame
A campaign frame is not an adventure with extra headings. It is the page that tells everyone what kind of story you are in, and what you will track that the core rules do not already track. If the document starts growing acts, maps, and a cast list, you have left the frame and started writing the night. That night can wait until they say they want it.
The list is the shape I use. You need a pitch, then tone and feel, themes, and touchstones. Then a short overview. Then a note on how communities, ancestries, and classes sit here. Then principles for the players, and principles for you. Then the distinctions that make this place unlike the last one. Then the inciting incident. Then any special mechanics. Then the questions you will actually ask in session zero.
That is enough to run tomorrow. You do not need a second shape for a one-shot. The incident is tonight. The overview is a page. The communities note is whatever they need so a character can belong here without a long briefing. If a heading has nothing true to say yet, leave it thin.
I keep the order because it stops me writing the pretty parts first. The pitch has to exist before the touchstones, or I collect stories and never say what the table is doing. The distinctions have to exist before the special mechanics, or a new tracker is just homework. The session zero questions come last, because they should steal from the incident.
If you can fill that list without a novel, you can sit down. If you cannot, more prose will not fix it. Write the missing line. Do not add a chapter.
How short can a one-shot frame be?
A one-shot still wants a frame. The scale is the only thing that changes. The incident is the thing that happens before the snacks are gone. The overview is what they can hold while they make characters. The special mechanic, if there is one, has to pay off before you pack up.
I write the overview as a page I would read while they pick a class. If I would skip a paragraph at the table, I cut it now. Tone and feel can be three words I will keep, as long as I can point at them when a scene drifts. Themes are the arguments the night will keep having. Touchstones stay in my notes as the stories I actually like, so I remember the mood, not as a reading list for them.
The class and ancestry note is where I am most tempted to over-explain. I write the one pressure this setting puts on those choices. A river town might care who can work the tide and who is treated as a stranger on the landing. That is a sentence. It is not a redesign of the game. If they want a heritage that does not fit, we talk at session zero.
Principles stay practical. If a principle does not change a call I would make tonight, I do not keep it. Distinctions are the few facts that would surprise someone who has played a different frame. A one-shot frame that already makes a night is the pitch, the incident, and three questions, with the other headings a line each. You can deepen them if they come back. You cannot deepen them by reading a folder nobody asked for.
How do I know the pitch is short enough?
If they cannot hear the campaign in four sentences, the rest of the document will not save you. I write the pitch as something I can read without performing. Present tense. What is wrong. Who they are in it. What will not wait.
The river towns run on the tide tables, and tonight the tables are wrong. The last ferry is leaving early, the salt warehouses have doubled their night watch, and nobody will say why the water smells like copper. You live here, or you are stuck here. The tide will not wait.
That is a pitch. Tone is wet, clerical, and a little mean. Themes are work, rumours, and a river that has a schedule. The incident is already inside the pitch, which is how I know it is usable. If I have to explain it after I read it, it is not a pitch yet.
I then write the incident as the first pressure, not the whole plot. Something has already happened. Someone wants something from them, or the place will change if they do nothing. I do not write the ending. The questions should point at that pressure. Who do you still owe in this town. What would make you miss the last ferry. Which warehouse do you refuse to go near. Those are stealable. They come from the pitch. When I am stuck, I read the pitch to an empty room. If I stumble, I cut. The table needs to know where they are and what is already wrong.
Where does the extra mechanic go?
If this frame needs a tide countdown, or a rumour tracker, I write it under special mechanics and nowhere else. I do not hide a new currency inside the overview. Complexity is how far I have stepped off the core rules. If I have not stepped off, I say so, and then I stop inventing dials to look prepared.
A special mechanic needs a trigger, a mark, and what changes when it fills. If I cannot say that in a few sentences, it is not ready for the sheet. Session zero questions should not explain the mechanic. They should make characters who will care when it fires.
What I print before they arrive is smaller than the full list. I print the pitch, the inciting incident, and three session zero questions. If those pages already make a night, I have a frame. The other headings stay in my notes until the second session proves I need them on paper. A frame is done when the table can hear the story and I can see the extra dial.
Write the pitch first. Fill the list. Keep the extra rule in one place. Then sit down.