Why RPG Manual Layout Matters: How Bad Design Ruins Great Games

Pubblicato il 5/12/2025

How many times have you flipped through an RPG rulebook looking for a crucial rule you know you read, but can’t find? Or worse, discovering that an important mechanic was hidden in a box on page three, while the main chapter was dedicated only to narrative flavor? Good RPG manual layout is essential—it’s the difference between a game master reaching for your system with excitement and shelving it in frustration.

You’re not alone. In recent years, discussions in RPG communities are increasingly filled with this theme: a game that’s extraordinary from a mechanical and narrative standpoint can become frustrating to play simply because of its visual layout. And I’m not just talking about aesthetics, but ergonomics, readability, and information architecture.

As an RPG designer, I know well that layout is not a marginal detail. It’s a fundamental element of game design, often undervalued, but it makes the difference between a rulebook that game masters prepare with enthusiasm on Friday night and one that sits on the shelf because it’s too cumbersome to consult.

The invisible layout, until it fails

Here’s the paradox: nobody ever remembers a good layout. People don’t wake up saying “what a well organized rulebook,” but they definitely notice when they search for a rule for twenty minutes and can’t find it.

A functioning layout looks like this: the GM opens the rulebook to the right page on the first try. New players can navigate the system without getting lost. The crucial rules for the first session are all together, easily accessible. The indices work. The tables are where you expect them.

When all this happens, the layout is invisible. It’s like film lighting: when it’s right, you don’t notice it at all. When it’s wrong, it distracts from everything else.

The deadly sins of RPG manual layout

Over the past months I’ve seen people discuss recurring problems, especially in indie games or remakes of complex systems:

Important rules scattered everywhere

An enemy of effective layout is information dispersal. Imagine playing a system where status conditions are explained in chapter 3, special effects in chapter 6, and then you discover grenades are in chapter 4 under a box titled “Miscellaneous Combat.”

During a session, the GM needs to find this information in seconds, not minutes. If they have to flip through the book like a novel to gather rule fragments, the game stops. The pacing breaks. The magic dissolves.

The rulebook split in half

Some manuals completely separate lore (narrative, atmosphere, creative inspiration) from crunch (mechanics, numbers, tables). It’s an approach that might make conceptual sense, but it creates a practical problem: the GM must constantly flip back and forth between two massive sections.

The result? Many GMs end up reading only half the book and lose valuable information for enriching the game.

Indices that don’t help, or don’t exist at all

A poorly made index is worse than no index. Vague entries, inconsistent organization, missing subcategories: these errors transform the index from a lifesaving tool into a source of frustration.

I’ve seen indices listing “Creatures” but not indicating how to find them by challenge rating. Indices lumping together “Magic, magical items, and why the setting hates arcane magic” under one entry. Indices that simply don’t exist in eBooks or PDFs.

Tables promised but never delivered

When text says “see the table on page 45,” that table must exist. If it doesn’t, the player feels betrayed. If it exists but is hard to find because the pagination is disorganized, the layout has failed.

Illegible fonts and inappropriate paper

Not all layout errors are about information architecture. Some are pure design: fonts too small, insufficient contrast between text and background, paper too thin so the other page shows through when reading. Details that seem trivial, but transform reading from pleasant to exhausting.

Layout as a game design element

This is the point that matters most to me as a designer: layout is not just presentation. It’s game design.

When I choose how to organize information in a rulebook, I’m already teaching the GM how to play my game. I’m communicating which rules are essential and which are optional. I’m directing where to focus attention. I’m facilitating or hindering table side consultation.

That’s why the layout choices I make for Borg of Pripyat or Day End Zero and other games I develop are not decorative. They’re strategic.

How layout helps (or hinders) game pacing

Good layout maintains pacing. A GM shouldn’t break from the atmosphere to hunt for a missing rule. If searching interrupts the game more than once per session, that’s an information design problem.

That’s why quick reference sheets, summaries, and cheat sheets are so important. They’re not luxuries: they’re part of the rulebook’s structure itself.

Visual design communicates structure

Fonts, colors, white space: all of this communicates. An experienced GM from another system enters your rulebook and immediately understands how it’s organized just from the visual presentation. If you can’t communicate structure visually, you’ve made it too complicated.

What i’ve learned as an author

Over the years developing Borg of Pripyat and Dawn of Pripyat, I’ve made every mistake I’m describing. And I’ve learned from each one.

The first session deserves its own chapter

Before diving into complete mechanics, the GM needs to understand how to start. A “How to Play” or “First Session” chapter that includes only what’s needed for the first 90 minutes is lifesaving.

Everything else can come later. Players will learn more rules during play. But the first session can’t stall because the GM is hunting for a table.

The index must be more than a list

I create indices with clear subcategories. Not just “Magic,” but “Magic: 1st level spells,” “Magic: rituals,” “Magic: side effects.” Not just “Creatures,” but by type, environment, and challenge level.

In eBooks and PDFs, the index should be interactive. It’s not superhuman effort, but it makes an enormous difference.

Reference material should be near where it’s used

If a rule is called “Ambush,” the GM needs to find it quickly when a player says “we want to set an ambush.” If it’s on page 45 and combat is on page 120, the layout has failed.

The solution isn’t always simple, but awareness of the problem helps find creative solutions.

Perfect layout doesn’t exist, but conscious layout does

I’m not saying there’s one perfect form for a rulebook. Games have different styles, different audiences, different needs. A minimalist narrative RPG doesn’t need the same layout as a crunchy, complex system.

But there’s a difference between conscious layout choices and accidental ones. If you decide to separate lore and crunch because you know your players will appreciate it and you’ve structured the book to actually work that way, great. If you do it because “it seems like a good idea” without thinking it through, you’re leaving frustration in the hands of people playing your system.

Discussions I see in communities like r/rpg about terrible layouts in beautiful games remind me that layout matters. It matters a lot. And it deserves the same care we give to mechanics, atmosphere, and narrative.

Because a rulebook isn’t just a reference tome. It’s the first tool your players have to understand your game. If the first encounter is frustrating, you’ve already lost half the battle.

Next time you’re designing a rulebook, dedicate time to layout. No less than you’ll dedicate to mechanics. Because the most brilliant mechanics in the world won’t shine if readers can’t find them.

Blog Borg of Pripyat, design, game design, indie rpg, manual layout, RPG, rulebook design