[Something of a caveat. This is a review specifically for the core Hillfolk book. I also have the Blood on the Snow companion, which I consider almost essential to fully grasp the DramaSystem, but I'll save a review for its additives until later.]
It's kind of a new experience for me to review (and read) role-playing games as books (as opposed to fun rules and flavor text that can be thumbed through in something like Random-Access Memory mode). I have tried to do so moreso this year than any previous, and Hillfolk is the first I feel like reviewing in that light (the other two entries on the shelf are a) a book about role-playing games of a specific ilk and b) a book about live-action role-play that is as much a book-of-tips as a set of rules.
When reviewing RPG (as I'll call them from here on out) rulebooks, I like to keep three (possibly four) things in mind, the factors that I think go into making a good game [though different games can stress them in different ways]. First factor, the layout and design. Having been role-player since the early 80s, I have seen a lot of various takes on design, and I have seen really good design and really bad design. As well, I have seen bad design that works for the product (the really playable Beyond the Supernatural suffers from the same design glitches as the rest of the Palladium line) and good design that detracts (Wraith: The Oblivion comes to mind).
Second factor: readability. These are ostensibly technical documents explaining the rules, ideas, flavor, and so forth for a game world and game mechanic. The ability to read and understand the rules and world is essential to having a harmonious play session (when people are in doubt, they can get fussy).
Third Factor: playability. This is a product meant to exist as a working-document driving play sessions. While it is sort of odd to judge such a book on its real-world qualities, it fits into roughly the same category as a book of recipes or a book about budgeting, if the content is not-useful, then the book is no good.
Option/Fourth Factor: flavor. This is optional because I play a lot of universal games, or games-lite style games, where the flavor is entirely in a giving setting, or in a given play-through, and not really inherent in the game itself (see: GURPS, FUDGE, even Fiasco, which does manage to have built in flavor but one that can change drastically based on a few starting assumptions getting tweaked).
With that pre-amble out of the way (and "Hi!", assuming you saw me link to this one from another review about an RPG), let's take a look at Hillfolk. Disclosure, I was a Kickstarter backer. There is some debate about how much that influences a person's decision. In my case, I'd say maybe not, but I don't know. I've had a few bad Kickstarter games and a few good Kickstarter games. I've had miserable experiences and fun ones. The Hillfolk Kickstarter was both a fun experience (and well run) and the game is worth owning. I'd like to say I'd say otherwise if it wasn't the case, but decide how you will.
Now, taking in the three+one factors, let's dive into Hillfolk. When I first got into the game, the unique setting intrigued me: iron-age tribesmen in a magic-free, politically-driven world. It was unique, had a lot of chances for both conflict and for growth, and could foster any sort of story. Over time, and reading the world-building in this book, it sort of lost some charm. Nothing that Robin D. Laws did, I think just the idea of a primitive society getting into romantic scrapes, and fights with nearby tribes, and going on hunting parties and raids just lost some charm. The good news is, and we'll get to this, the system is really not tied entirely into its story-world premise. It can be expanded to do just about any setting you want, assuming that setting is largely driven through interpersonal interaction, which is really the core mechanic of the game.
Game-play works, basically, like this. You take turns as "scene callers", setting up scenes, generally between several characters. There is a sort of focus to the scene, a setting to the scene, and a sense that the scene as "positive and negative" outcomes. Hillfolk awards a drama token to the character who "lost" the scene [losing can range from not getting what you want to giving up something]. These tokens can be accumulated and then "spent" to change the interaction of some scenes. There are also storyline elements that change based on the flow of scenes, of course. Much like in a lot of the "New RPG" games, the stuff that happens in the scenes—settings and characters introduced, events introduced, conflicts—is canon for the world, making world-building an organic experience. There is a game-master type who feeds in input and helps to manage scenes, but generally the GM strives to stay a bit hands-off except a) where absolutely necessary or b) when the GM has built up tokens to spend.
There is another type of scene, the "procedural scene", which is played differently. Players have a task to do, the GM sets the difficulty, and then a card or two is drawn. It tends to be the weakest part of the game. The random chance is simply too flat and lifeless to compare to the dramatic scenes, and separating drama tokens from procedural tokens seems to be a mistake. There is a suggested fix in the companion volume, that helps, but if there is ever a Hillfolk/DramaSystem 2.0, this is what needs to be tweaked.
It is laid-out well, and is quite readable. I have some players that never quite like reading too deeply into text, and most of them were able to read and comprehend, even if it looks and feels daunting at first. If on first pass, the book doesn't make sense to you, try again. It has some of its own particular idioms, but it is quite readable as a book, as well.
Overall, the game is fun. It is also kind of not-a-"game" in that you could easily imagine throwing away the notion of tokens and any random elements and just going for a more collaborative drama experience (with or without a GM). Part of this is driven by the drama tokens being weakened through the simple fact that most games don't have time to accumulate too many (they go away at the end of a session), meaning that you might get 3-4 most in an entire night, unless your character is a focus. Perhaps allowing players to start with 2 drama tokens would be a nice house-rule. Another would be making the skills more important to scenes (again, the companion does this latter one better).
As said, the core setting did not call to me when it became time to play, but there are a lot of suggested settings (called Series Pitches). The main book has dozens. What's more, once you played a few games, it really isn't hard to imagine just starting from scratch: "We are members of a gang, and a new drug has hit the street...go!". It helps to add a lot of value, which is important I think since so much of the system is rules-light concept and the world, though there is a bit of world-building, is not gone into with much depth. Even with the base setting, the series pitches give ideas of how else to run it and what sort of drama might be possible.
If any of this sounds like a strong complaint, it is not. I am quite delighted with this as a product (though I find the companion necessary to complete it). Having played a few games set in a war-torn, alternate Russia (zombies + magic!), the players enjoy themselves and are taking part in building a world that is unique to this particular play-through. Drama tokens have done little except decide who gets bennies [which are a powerful, third type of token that you build up over games]. Procedural scenes got tweaked. But the core mechanic of petition-and-grant is something to which they have taken.
In the end, like any game, fudging the rules tends to work best (scene doesn't have a clear petition but pushes the story forward? Give the player a drama token (or take one) depending on if it's negative or positive). It's a fun new eye-opening way to handle things, that will probably be digested a bit and blended into other games of a more traditional type, as I like to do.