Western
City RPG – A Dusty Gem Worth Discovering
Continuing my read-through of lesser-known Western RPGs and
modules, today I’m taking a look at Western City, designed
by Jörg Dunne and first published in Europe back in 2006.
Before we get into it: this is an overview, not a
rules deep dive.
might be a rules-light system
on the surface, but it’s got enough nuance that a full breakdown
would go well beyond a standard review. Just know: it’s lean, but
not shallow.
How I Got It
I came into possession of Western City thanks to a good
friend who scored a lot of games off eBay. He handed it to me with a
shrug and said, “I’m probably never going to read this.”
Challenge accepted.
It sat on my desk for a few days until I cracked it open — and
then finished it in one go. That’s not too hard, since it clocks in
at a digest-sized 92 pages with a clean layout and a manageable word
count per page.
Presentation & Style
Let’s start with the aesthetics. Western City
immediately gets a nod for its sharp cover design
and internal art by Kathy Schad, which has a
distinctive and appealing style — somewhat reminiscent of early
Elmore, which is a plus in my book (despite what the grognards say).
The period photos, bullet-hole textures, and playing card visuals
throughout reinforce the Western tone well. This isn’t the dry grit
of Boot Hill — this feels more stylized, more cinematic.
Unfortunately, the translation (in my January
2008 first printing) leaves a lot to be desired. There are numerous
awkward phrases and reversed quotation marks. It’s readable, but
janky — a shame, because the presentation otherwise really works.
The Game Itself
Let’s clear one thing up: Western City isn’t a
Western RPG in the vein of Boot Hill, Deadlands, or
even Sidewinder. Instead, it’s designed for collaborative
storytelling, player-driven scenes, and a
gamemasterless structure. It leans more “story game”
than “simulation.” Think improv theater with poker chips.
Here’s all you need to play:
- One d8
- A deck of playing cards
- Poker chips
- A dollar bill (!)
That’s it. And just to make it more impressive: it was written
in 72 hours for a game design contest. If that’s true? Hats off.
Character Creation
Characters are built around three core stats:
- Body (Clubs)
- Mind (Diamonds)
- Charisma (Spades)
Players distribute points between 1–5 across these. Everyone
gets 8 “Hearts”, which serve as your hit points
(shades of Legend of Zelda, maybe?). No rolling — just
assign points and move on.
Skills range 1–5 and are resolved with a d6.
You get a pool of points to spread as you like, with difficulty based
on what you’re trying to do.
From there, you assign background details, Hubris
(a character flaw), and — most importantly — you create an Extra
and a Foe. These characters serve as part of the
supporting cast for other players’ stories. Once all players have
built theirs, you use poker chips to bid and assign
Extras and Foes. It’s a brilliant mechanic — ensuring everyone’s
story is already entangled with everyone else’s. You’re building
a shared narrative web from the jump.
Later in play, you can also introduce spontaneous Extras as
needed, which keeps the story flexible and reactive.
How the Game Flows
Time is divided into three parts per day:
Events or “Scenes” happen during those time
blocks. Each player proposes a scene where their character is the
star. Other players take the roles of Extras or Foes — so no one is
ever just watching. Even if your character’s not in the spotlight,
you’re still part of the action.
Scenes are bid on and ordered collaboratively,
though if there’s strong disagreement, there’s a rule called “Not
In My Town” that lets a player force a scene through. It’s
all very improv-heavy — and cleverly set up to prevent players from
just sitting on the sidelines.
High Noon, naturally, is where the big
confrontation is most likely to take place — though it’s not
locked in.
Mechanics & Design Choices
Combat, wounds, resolution — all are simple and snappy. The
suits from the playing cards play a subtle mechanical role in tests
and effects. It’s clever without being clunky.
One downside? Characters can’t die unless the player
wants them to. For me, that’s a head-scratcher. I’m not
saying every RPG has to be meat-grinder mode, but the lack of stakes
takes the wind out of high tension moments. Then again, this is
designed for narrative control, not tactical risk.
Optional Magic
There is an optional magic system, and it follows
the same rules-light approach as the rest of the book. Personally,
I’m a fan of gritty realism in Westerns, so I’d likely skip it —
but if you want to inject a bit of Weird West flavor, it’s there.
Equipment? Monsters? Nope.
There are no gear lists or bestiaries.
The assumption is: if it exists in a Western, it exists here. That’s
either liberating or annoying depending on your comfort level with
improv.
Leveling Up
No XP tables here. Players vote on experience
awards based on scenes and performance — another narrative-heavy
design choice that fits the game’s structure, even if it leans more
“actor” than “gamer.”
Final Thoughts
Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
There’s a lot to admire in Western City. The system is
elegant, unique, and impressively efficient. It leans hard into
collaborative, character-driven roleplay — and if
you’re the type who loves improv, narrative arcs, and shared
storytelling, it’s probably a 4-star (or higher) game.
But for me? I’m a role-player, not an actor.
I like some structure. I like GMs. I like death being on the table.
Western City is a beautifully crafted storytelling machine —
but it’s not what I reach for on game night.
Still, it’s inventive, inspiring, and absolutely worth a read —
especially if you’re looking to stretch beyond traditional RPG
formats.