Occasional reflections on why certain decisions were made during the development of Midnight Abyss — from setting logic to design philosophy. These are meant as candid insights rather than formal rules.
Questions & Designer Notes
If you have a specific question about Midnight Abyss, please
email me.
I’ll respond as I’m able and, if it helps other players, I’ll add the answer to this page.
Tip: include your crew name, session number, and the rule/section you’re asking about.
Updates and Tweaks — 02/11/25
· Playtest reflections and small rules adjustments.
Well, we have had one playtest and the game went quite well. I have received three of the five filled-in questionnaires, and they were pretty positive overall. Changes we are looking at based on the playtest are primarily focused on the Competencies (formerly called Aptitudes).
Competency Allocation
Instead of having one Primary and two Secondary, players now have eight points to spend at character creation:
1 point buys a Secondary Competency.
2 points buys a Primary Competency.
A character may have a maximum of two Primaries at character generation.
This should provide a little more capability, as one piece of feedback was that difficulties felt a little high. That said, the group were not utilising the Group Drama Pool to buy additional traits, which likely contributed to the pressure.
Next Playtest
The next playtest should start at the end of the month and will be recorded for YouTube. This will include character creation, so we will see how these updates affect builds in practice.
Damage: Limited Exposure
Another comment was regarding damage. We did not really get into that. A few characters took a Graze when their DSV was almost dragged into the Abyssal Trench, but there was no sustained combat, so the exposure to the wound system was limited.
Oxygen Tracking
Lastly, the Oxygen tracking mechanic. I did not push this too much in the first playtest. Some characters used extra O₂ as complications on mixed successes, but I did not lean on the depletion checks this time either. In hindsight that was perhaps a mistake.
That said, the group all enjoyed the game and stated a desire to play a longer-form campaign.
Tell Me What You Think
I hope to hear from others. Have you tried the game based on the QuickStart? Do you have any questions? Use the link above or visit the Discord and let me know.
Wounds — 26/10/25
· How the wound track escalates.
For those who have played or examined the character sheet, the wound track may appear unusual at first glance. So how does it work?
Wounds and Damage
Midnight Abyss does not use hit points. Instead, injury is tracked through escalating wound levels. Every cut, bruise, or puncture carries both narrative and mechanical weight, ensuring that combat feels dangerous without descending into a grind of numbers.
This system is designed to emphasise clarity: players and Directors alike should always understand what each blow means. Tension builds naturally as wounds accumulate and escalate.
Wounds are not isolated events but part of a cumulative spiral of damage. Each small injury chips away at endurance until collapse becomes inevitable.
Four Grazes combine into one Minor Wound.
Three Minor Wounds combine into one Serious Wound.
Two Serious Wounds combine into one Critical Wound.
Further injury beyond a Critical Wound results in incapacitation or death, as determined by the Director.
Escalation makes combat tense and unforgiving. Every blow matters, and even a handful of grazes will eventually draw a diver towards serious harm unless they find cover, treatment, or a means to retreat.
By Attack Successes
The severity of a wound is determined by the number of uncancelled successes remaining after defence rolls are compared.
One success: Graze
Two successes: Minor Wound
Three successes: Serious Wound
Four or more successes: Critical Wound
This ensures that both small skirmishes and desperate brawls can escalate quickly. A single lucky strike, or a failed defence, can change the tone of a fight instantly—shifting the focus from aggression to survival.
Wound Penalties
At present, wound penalties are expressed through dice quality. As injuries worsen, hands shake and focus fades, reducing the effectiveness of rolls.
A Minor Wound represents pain and shock. The next roll the character makes using any skill worsens by one dice step (for example, a D10 becomes a D12). If the character is diving or relying on a personal oxygen supply, they must also make an immediate O₂ Depletion check or lose one O₂. After that roll, the wound has no further mechanical effect.
A Serious Wound represents lasting impairment. All rolls worsen by one dice step until the wound is treated or healed. Multiple Serious Wounds stack, but the minimum dice type a player may roll is a D20 (untrained).
The maximum impairment from wounds is therefore two dice steps in total, with the Minor Wound’s one-time penalty representing brief shock rather than sustained injury. The intention is to create meaningful setbacks without stripping a character of capability. Through the Drama mechanic, a character may be able to ignore certain penalties temporarily—an idea still under testing.
Hopefully this clarifies the wound system and helps it feel as narrative and transparent as intended.
What Is the Story with the Art — 18/10/25
From the very start I had a specific aesthetic in mind — industrial and semi-realistic. But I have no artistic ability and currently no art budget. So I did what I could for my own review and used AI.
I am however fully aware of, and sympathetic to, the concerns many have regarding the use of AI art: from the questionable use of online artwork to train AI engines (often without the consent of the artist) to the potential for automation to undercut working illustrators. There’s also the simple fact that some people misrepresent AI-generated pieces as original art.
So, my quandary: assuming this game has the legs to become a commercial concern, how do I create a professional-looking product without alienating potential players? At present, my thought is to use Kickstarter to fund the game — using those proceeds to pay for custom art and professional layout. The loop, of course, is that I need appealing art to attract backers, yet I need the Kickstarter to afford that art.
But where there’s a will, there’s a way. First things first: test the game, ensure it works, and see if it truly deserves to go beyond a thought experiment and a fun setting.
Here’s hoping we don’t fold under the pressure.
Why Dive Dogs — 13/10/25
The reasons are twofold.
Firstly — as a lifelong pet owner — I can’t imagine most people leaving behind a creature they see as family. Especially in America, where dogs hold such a strong place in people’s hearts, I doubt many would relocate to an undersea habitat without doing everything possible to bring their companions along. A friend of mine over there dotes on his boy — a gorgeous dog, endlessly spoiled — and I’m fairly sure that if his family had to move beneath the waves, he’d raise merry hell until the pooch was cleared to come too.
Secondly, it was also a shameless attempt to win over another friend of mine, who insists on having a canine companion in every game he plays. If adding dive dogs might convince him to dive into this one (pun only slightly intended), then it seemed a sound design choice.
Of course, in the world of Midnight Abyss, dogs can’t just be mascots. Oxygen and space are life; everything and everyone has to earn their keep. So, these dogs have jobs — search-and-rescue partners, therapy animals for med crews handling trauma, or recovery specialists assisting in partially flooded sections of a vessel, where their heightened senses and training can help locate trapped survivors or valuable equipment.
To make them plausible, I imagined a level of selective breeding and adaptation. They’d need to handle pressure changes, shed less (to avoid fouling air filters or triggering allergies), and meet certain size and temperament requirements. Working dogs would almost certainly be small — something closer to a beagle than a shepherd — compact, trainable, and able to thrive in the tight, oxygen-limited habitats of the deep.
Realism note: scent work only applies in air-filled or partially flooded compartments. In fully submerged operations, dive dogs rely on handler cues, tactile commands, and environmental awareness rather than smell.
What Is the Drowned World — 13/10/25
I wanted to create a world where survival itself felt like an adventure — where discovery carried weight, and every breath was borrowed.
The Drowned World began with a simple truth: the surface failed.
Between the planet’s endless changes and humanity’s excess, the land gave way.
Cities sank, coastlines collapsed, and the deep became the only place left to live.
Centuries later, people have adapted to the dark.
Most spend their whole lives on the sea floor, working for the right to breathe.
They live within domed habitats ruled by vast polities that own the air, the walls, and the work itself.
Every breath is a contract, every life a calculation of oxygen and obedience.
The player characters are the few who step outside that system — not heroes, just those unwilling to live by quota.
They take the jobs others avoid: salvage, escort, exploration, and protection for whoever can pay in free air.
They live one dive, one repair, one paycheck at a time.
That narrow gap between freedom and extinction is where Midnight Abyss lives.
My intent was to put the players in situations that create their own reasons to risk everything — to make curiosity and desperation the same force.
I wanted the game to hold both the call to adventure and the weight of existential horror:
the awe of discovery alongside the realisation that the ocean is vast, indifferent, and utterly uncaring.
Every mission should feel like a chance to see something wonderful, and a reminder that wonder and terror are never far apart.
But the crews are only one way to play.
There are colonies to sustain, factions to serve, wars to fight, and mysteries that refuse to stay buried.
The same rules — oxygen, pressure, scarcity, and human cost — shape them all.
Because the ocean still calls to us.
It remains the last true frontier — cold, crushing, and alive in ways we barely understand.
It speaks to something old and restless in humanity, something that still wants to see what waits beyond the light.