Black Powder and Brimstone – Review

Benjamin Tobitt’s Black Powder and Brimstone is a tightly focused, rules-light grimdark RPG that blends seventeenth-century pike-and-shot warfare with witch-hunts, demonic corruption and the aesthetic sensibilities of Mörk Borg.

Before I dig into this review, I must admit that I have yet to have a chance to play this game. As much as I like the aesthetics of the game, I simply haven’t found the time. So, please keep this in mind as you read on.

There is something strangely compelling about a game that knows exactly what it wants to be. Black Powder and Brimstone is one of those books that invites you into a world of gunpowder smoke, cracked faith, and lingering dread, and it does so with absolute clarity. From the first page it becomes obvious that this is not a sprawling, anything-goes fantasy. Instead it is a sharply carved slice of pike and shot misery, infused with witchcraft, plague and the occasional demonic whisper. That tight focus is part of its strength.

In a way, reading the book reminds me of Outgunned, which I reviewed last month. It is refreshing to see new games not trying to be everything at once, but put a focus on being good at what their game is about.

The System

The system sits on the familiar bones of Mörk Borg but bends them toward a harsher, more grounded style of play. Everything moves quickly. Tests resolve through a single d20 roll against a set difficulty, and the players bear the burden of rolling both for their own actions and for avoiding incoming harm. Enemies simply exist as threats. They do not roll. They do not hesitate. They confront you and force your hand. The game thrives on this sense of inevitability.

Mechanically the book keeps things sparse but never flimsy. The core attributes are easy to grasp and the structure of combat is almost conversational. Roll to hit. Roll to avoid dying. Reload if you live long enough. The rules for black powder weapons, improvised equipment and battlefield injuries feel deliberately rough around the edges, as if the book wants you to taste the grit and smoke between the lines. Even the magic system maintains that tension. Witches roll for their spells like any other test, but there is always the looming possibility of corruption. Success and catastrophe sit side by side and the game encourages players to dance between them.

Devil’s Luck adds a nice layer of temptation. You can bend fate a little, perhaps twist the world in your favour, but the more you lean into it the more the world leans back. It is a nice mechanic for a game that constantly reminds you that no one comes out clean. Even healing is a grim affair, written with the understanding that most injuries take something with them on the way out.

Truth be told, Mörk Borg is not one of my favorite games, I like the book but the game is too deadly to my liking. I don’t like going through three characters in the same session, I need more character development than death. As I mentioned above, I haven’t played this game so I don’t have a decent grasp on if the same applies in this game. It feels like Mörk Borg but with added complexity.

There are also a few parts that I found a bit mind boggling, like the level up. Perhaps this becomes clearer in game, but after reading it I was nowhere near understanding when you level up other than it is at the GMs whim.

The Setting

The setting is where the book truly takes shape and where my interest truly peaked. Vaterland is not merely a backdrop but well fleshed out, although it reminds me heavily of Warhammer Fantasy. The opening spread sets the tone in a few haunting lines. Bells toll across a land torn apart by rival factions of the Church of Light while demons stalk the edges of civilization and mercenaries plunder whatever remains. It is a world cracked open by faith, greed and supernatural decay. Every region description reinforces the sense that nothing here is stable. Everything is contested. Everything is fraying.

The map introduces Vaterland as a patchwork of disputed territories and uneasy borders, and the writing brings each place to life. Deliverance feels like a city that has survived too much and learned all the wrong lessons from its brush with holiness. Dreadzden sits like an infected wound on the land, blasted open by a catastrophic explosion and left to rot under the gaze of demons. Even the countryside carries tension. Farms whisper of old fears. Roads are haunted by mercenary bands and nameless creatures. A traveling carnival might be a blessing in better years, but in these times it becomes a warning to lock your doors.

The forests are perhaps the strongest part of the world. They have that quiet, ancient menace you only get when the writer trusts the reader to imagine the worst. Covens gather under moonless skies. Cultists drag victims through the undergrowth. Strange lights drift between the trees. Nothing about the forest feels decorative. It feels alive, watchful and entirely hostile.

The Design and Look

Visually the book leans into stark contrasts and heavy silhouettes, often illuminated by splashes of blood red. The art carries the mood without overwhelming it. Much of it resembles a twisted seventeenth century woodcut that someone pulled from a bonfire at the last possible moment. The layout echoes the bold style of Mörk Borg but gives enough space for the early modern influence to breathe. The result is a book that feels unified in voice and identity.

One thing I’d like to mention. This book would’ve needed a good editor. There are parts that feel almost raw and unfinished, like the module at the back of the book, and there’s some going back and forth, for example there are rules in the combat section that would normally be found under skills and so on. There are parts that are good, like the bestiary, but far too many that should have been given a wee bit more love.

Conclusion

In the end Black Powder and Brimstone succeeds because it never loses sight of what it wants to do, something I respect and wish more games would do although the book needs more love. It offers a world that is falling apart and asks you to survive in it for as long as the dice allow. There is no promise of heroism. There is no dream of redemption. There is only the road ahead, the sound of distant muskets, and the knowledge that every choice pushes you a little further toward damnation or survival.

If you like Mörk Borg and the setting, you should try out Black Powder and Brimstone. I said earlier that this game in a way reminds me of Outgunned. However, comparing the two, Outgunned is a better book, in my opinion. There will be no rating from me this time, since it would be unfair to rate a game I haven’t tried.

A copy was provided by Free League Publishing for this review.