This Rough Magic

A New Beginning

For some time now, I’ve served—half-willing, half-bewildered—as the caretaker of Prospero House, that small, wayward venture passed down through decades of eager charlatans and ambitious picaros before landing squarely in my lap. Known simply as Doc to my friends, I took up the mantle with the hope of restoring Prospero House to some semblance of its former glory: serving up unsettling delights to inspire, terrify, and entertain.

And while I have cherished that role—stacking pages with mythos, madness, and the occasional ill-advised expedition against the likes of Nyarlathotep—it is time for me to set that duty aside.

Today marks the beginning of a new chapter: This Rough Magic.

This new venture steps away from the shadowed stacks of Prospero House and toward something quieter, more reflective, but no less magical. This Rough Magic is a space where I can explore the deeper threads that have always pulled me toward roleplaying games—not just the stories themselves, but the ways they help us connect, create, and belong.

And though I’ve taken on the dark schemes of Nyarlathotep more times than is probably advisable, I’ve come to realize that what matters most isn’t the Mythos or the mechanics—it’s the people and the moments we create together.

This Rough Magic is born from that realization.

It is a place to talk about roleplaying games not just as entertainment but as a practice—one that touches on mindfulness, well-being, creativity, and belonging. It’s about the quiet magic that happens when we gather (whether in person or online) to tell stories that couldn’t exist without each other. It’s about how these shared worlds can help us stay grounded, foster connection, and maybe even heal.

This is, in many ways, a more personal journey for me. I’m stepping back from the mythos-heavy archives of Prospero House to reflect more deliberately on the role games have played in my life, and the role they can play in helping us live more meaningful, connected lives.

Some posts here will be practical—tools for running games with greater presence, ideas for fostering inclusion and belonging at the table. Others will be more reflective—meditations on creativity, resilience, and the small, strange magic of play. You might even see me revisiting some of my past favorites from Prospero House.

I don’t claim to be an expert. What I offer is experience—three decades of falling in and out of love with this hobby, of failing, learning, returning, and discovering that the heart of it all is not the dice or the rules, but the people we share it with.

So here I am—walking away from one worn and beloved desk to sit at another, hopeful that This Rough Magic will serve as a gathering place for those who, like me, believe that stories shared in fellowship can do more than entertain: they can connect, inspire, and transform.

Thank you for joining me. There’s much more to come.