Continuum 2026

 The last weekend of July saw Megan and me at Continuum for a weekend of gaming. Mostly freeforms, with some ttrpgs and a few board games. Plus seeing lots of old friends and talking nonsense all weekend. What’s not to love?

Playing Mycelia in the atrium

TL;DR: We had a great time!

Here’s what we did:

Friday

We arrived mid-afternoon and didn’t do much other than check in, chat to a few friends, and have a bite to eat.

Four Gods and a Funeral

Four Gods and a Funeral is an 18-player fantasy game written and run by Megan Jones. It is set in the world of Lois McMaster Bujold’s Five Gods books, which I’ve not read. Luckily, I didn’t need to know anything about the world as it was all contained in the game materials.

I played Sarlos, the 18-year-old heir to the Vardo empire – and my mother’s puppet. And not just my mother’s puppet – I had been kidnapped twice and used in other players’ machinations. So I was a fairly useless kid and pawn to the real powers.

I was also in love with a queen, and was trying to work out how to marry another character. (Unfortunately, that other character was played by Megan, which made that side of my game somewhat awkward and we just didn’t go there. That was a casting goof by Megan J, but wasn’t a huge problem.)

Anyway, the game was good – political and angsty. There was a whole side of the game (magic) that I didn’t know about and, amazingly, I think I was still the heir to Vardo at the end of the game. That’s probably because I was no real threat to anyone…

Game material reading order

One thing that I noticed when reading my character information was that my character made much more sense after I had read the game background material. It did make me wonder if we ought to spend a little more time thinking about the order in which players read their characters.

For me, most of my games have a “setting and cast list” document which I send to players with the casting questionnaire. That way the overall setting is the first thing they read, and that puts everything else in context.

(Hopefully they haven’t forgotten that when they receive their character – but I do always give them another copy of that initial document.)

Similarly for Freeform Games, the front cover of the character booklet has the same short boilerplate text roughly setting the scene and explaining the setting. Hopefully players read that first.

When a freeform character pack contains several documents, it's not always clear in which order to read them, and I find that can cause some confusion. Anyway, something for me to ruminate on. 

Saturday

After a hearty breakfast, we had nothing scheduled, so Megan went back to bed, and I played a few light board games. After a meal deal from the Co-Op, it was time for our first proper game.

Hades Plan

In Hades Plan (for 12 players and written/run by Ray Hodson and Simon Clark), we were Greek gods who were putting together the third series of a reality TV show that involved lots of puzzles. So while being bickering gods, we had to come up with ideas for a show. (Ray and Simon provided lots of props.)

I was Demeter, the ancient Greek goddess of agriculture, the harvest, and grain. (I’ve just looked that up; I know next to nothing about Greek gods.) We chose the gods pretty much at random, and ironically I ended up being one of Megan’s parents. (Megan was playing Persephone.)

The game was silly and energetic, but not really my cup of tea. It’s the kind of larp where the players bring the game (characters were two paragraphs long). That’s okay, but I have two issues with games like this:

First, they rely on the players having a common understanding of the game world. As already noted, I know next to nothing about Greek gods (or Norse gods or Roman gods for that matter). That’s less of an issue when nobody knows anything about Greek gods, but in this case we had a lot of players who knew a lot about them. So less fun for me.

Second, the games often work on the basis that whoever is loudest gets their way. And I’m not a shouty type.

So it wasn’t really my kind of game, but those for whom it was their kind of fun seemed to have a good time.

With that done, it was time for tea.

The Highgate Club

After tea, I ran The Highgate Club, a game I co-wrote at Peaky back in 2010. I ran it with Alan Paull, one of the authors, who brings the Continuum board games library.

The Highgate Club is a private member’s club filled with weird people – aliens, elves, immortals, zombies, Atlanteans, cyborgs – even an angel. It has lots of crazy plots, and while I expected it to take about two and a half hours, the players were still going strong at three hours in. 

It definitely needs two GMs, though. So I’ll update the guidance. (Along with a load of other tweaks – as always, I found lots of little things needed improving.)

Megan told me she enjoyed it, which was a relief as she influences which games I run at Continuum.

The Highgate Club before the players got their hands on it...

Sunday

We had another free morning on Sunday, so Megan and I played Mycelia and Sanctuary, a couple of weightier board games. We preferred the sprouting, fruiting and decaying mushroom fun of Mycelia over the zoo-building fun of Sanctuary.

Good Society

After lunch, I ran a tabletop session of Good Society while Megan played in a horde larp.

For Good Society, I had four players and used the pregenerated playset I talked about here, updated to use the second edition reputation consequences.

My four players were all blokes but had no problem playing female characters. One had run a swashbuckling game of Good Society the day before, and agreed that trying to create a coherent backstory at a convention takes a long time.

As is often the case with Good Society (and Hillfolk), the game took a few scenes to get running, but it didn’t take long before the players were busy creating drama and interfering with each other. Most of the time I just listened, occasionally suggesting scenes between characters or jumping in when I felt that a scene was over. (That last skill is important – players are often so caught up in their characters that they don’t spot the obvious end to a scene.)

I had been slightly hesitant to bring Good Society to Continuum, as it’s very different to many other ttrpgs (and Hillfolk was a bit of a struggle last year). But unlike last year, where I got the impression it was the last choice for at least one player, all my players were keen to play Good Society – and wanted to play it because it was so different from the other games on offer. And as a result, we had a great game.

(Good Society is like Fiasco and Hillfolk in that it is very dependent on the players. With the right group, these games are brilliant. But with more reserved players (or players who expect more direction from a GM), they can struggle.)

A few thoughts

So much going on: With four main characters and eight minor characters, I found it hard to keep on top of everything that was going on in the table. There were main arcs, yes, but there were also a lot of minor things happening that didn’t always get picked up later.

(I couldn’t now, for example, tell you much about what the story – and it’s only 48 hours later as I write this.)

I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing, but worth bearing in mind. I think I’d need to take a lot of notes were I playing a game over several sessions. (My recent online game of Good Society only had three players, which probably made it easier to hold in my head.)

Perhaps I need to figure out a way to take notes.

System doesn’t matter: Once again, I found that we didn’t use many resolve tokens. One or two, perhaps? The game flows brilliantly without needing the tokens, and for most of the game they sat on the table, ignored. (At least with Hillfolk, a drama token is at stake in each scene – even if they don’t really have much use either. Perhaps I should try mashing the two systems together?)

So that was Good Society. While I was doing that, Megan thoroughly enjoyed her larp. We had tea, another game of Mycelia (where Megan thrashed me), and then it was our final game.

Plan 8 from Outer Space

Plan 8 is an eight-player game written by Mike Young and run by Ezzy Pearson and Vikki Sterling. It’s an extremely silly game of aliens completing a post-mortem of their previous plans for dealing with Planet Earth, and preparing their 9th plan.

Broadly, the game consists of being in a ghastly business meeting (it even has a PowerPoint deck), trying NOT to take the blame for the previous plans, and then coming up with daft ideas for the next one.

It’s lots of chaotic fun, with a lot of laughter. It’s not a good game for wallflowers, though – be prepared to be loud and argue your corner.

I played the Head of Marketing, while Megan played the Head of Accounts. Her costume was so much better than mine, but that was true of most games. It was about two hours of frantic fun.

Head of Accounts

(The game takes its name from the legendarily bad movie, Plan 9 from Outer Space. I’ve not seen the movie, so I can’t say if it is in any way relatable.)

Locked in

We had one final bit of excitement on Sunday as the bathroom door handle broke and trapped Megan in the bathroom. Luckily, I was able to get help from reception, and it was sorted, but it could have been serious had I not been around. I don’t know how easy it would be to raise the alarm from inside the bathroom.

Monday

And after breakfast on Monday, we headed home.

Good Society: second editon

A second edition of Good Society, the ttrpg that lets you create Jane Austen-style stories, is coming to Kickstarter soon. You can read about it here, and if you follow their campaign, you can download the playtest packet and see some of the planned changes.

So that’s what I did, and this week we wrapped up our short but very satisfying two-cycle story. These are my thoughts.

First edition revisited

I’ve written about Good Society before on my blog. I played in a game a couple of years ago, and I’ve run one-shots at Furnace and AireCon, with a third one-shot (with the updated rules) planned for Continuum next week.

Much as I like Good Society, it’s not perfect, and I found a few issues with it:

Resolve tokens

Two problems with resolve tokens. The first is that there are too many. You can get resolve tokens from characters, rumours, reputation tags and more. It’s not long before the table is covered in resolve tokens. Worse, I find I often don't use them. Resolve tokens are used to “force” a character to do something they might not otherwise want to. But in so many cases, the players I play with quickly see the drama in whatever is presented and say “that’s a great idea,” and so spending the resolve token becomes unnecessary.

(I do wonder if that’s a structural problem with meta tokens like this. Resolve tokens work fine with players with a “my character wouldn’t do that” mentality – but I haven’t seen anyone like that in many, many years – if ever. Most players I see are happy to put problems in their character’s way – especially for a light game like Good Society.)

That means (for us at least) a surfeit of rarely-used resolve tokens.

Reputation

Reputation doesn’t do very much. Characters can gain a reputation, which has a mechanical effect (more resolve tokens), but is mostly just a roleplaying aid. But only if you pay attention, and in my experience, reputation isn’t something anyone pays much attention to. 

Fiddly character sheets with teeny font

I found this when I ran Good Society at Furnace (I mostly play online), but goodness, the character sheets are fiddly. They look nice, but each character consists of a basic character sheet, a family sheet, a desire card, and a relationship card. Oh, and two connections (more cards). And the font on the cards is tiny – my ageing eyes struggle to read it.

The table at Furnace. It's all a bit chaotic. And hard to read.

Part of the problem is the huge image – which is lovely, but condenses everything else. For AireCon, I completely rewrote the character sheets to be more legible. (And moved the image to a table tent.)

Second edition changes

So while the second edition preview does nothing about the character sheet (although it did introduce a very nice online Google sheet character keeper), it does change resolve tokens and reputation (and some other points).

Resolve tokens

While the rules for resolve tokens have not changed, there are fewer of them because they are no longer generated by reputation or rumours.

Reputation

The biggest change is reputation. There’s an alternative way to earn reputation tags, and during the reputation phase, they now trigger reputation consequences that might be good or bad. (These are great, more on them below.)

Rumour and scandal

Rumours now start as whispers, and the main change is that there’s a new action: overhearing a rumour. So you can roleplay hearing the rumour, which works well. You can also spend a resolve token to turn a rumour into “the talk of the ton,” which is a nice touch.

Epistolary phase and upkeep

These are tweaked slightly but didn’t affect our game much.

Play materials

Finally, the pack includes revised characters, family backgrounds and a playset.

Our game

Our game ran for five two-hour sessions. One session zero, followed by four sessions of play. We completed two full cycles, and we were in our third when we reached a satisfying conclusion.

We had three players: me, Thomas and Terry. I facilitated the game and played a major character. We played online, using Discord and the new Good Society character keeper.

I didn’t use the included playset because it’s the one we played last time, so I chose Family Matters from the rulebook. That was slightly awkward as Family Matters uses the Heir (not part of the 2ed pack), and so I replaced the Heir with the Hedonist from the second edition preview.

We spent a full session on session zero, and we needed that to get the characters and background sorted properly. (I reflected after Furnace that creating a coherent backstory in under 30 minutes is a challenge; I’m not going to try that again!) Even then, we ended up revisiting part of the background later on.

Family matters

The heart of our story was a feud between the Bainses and the Hardwicks.

Terry played Captain James Baines (Careerist, New Money).

Thomas played Solomon Bains (Dependent, New Money), the disinherited son (and previous friend of Eleanor).

I played Eleanor Hardwick (Hedonist/Heir, Old Money), who wanted to bring the families together.

Our minor characters included:

• Arthur Bains (played by me), stern father of James and Solomon
• Marley Jones (played by Thomas), James’ assistant
• Horatio Flinders, Lord Mountwick (played by Terry), Solomon’s benefactor
• Henrietta Bourbon (played by me), Solomon’s friend
• Lizzie Hardwick (played by Terry), Eleanor’s younger sister
• Miss Charlotte Collins (played by Thomas), Eleanor’s friend

Our story

Over our three cycles of play, our story involved Solomon and Eleanor repairing their relationship (after the slight that Eleanor caused), James and Eleanor getting engaged (yikes – she’s engaged to the wrong brother!), Solomon impressing his father and regaining his inheritance, and, finally, James breaking off his engagement to Eleanor (at his father's behest), leaving Solomon to propose to Eleanor.

Along the way, minor characters Lizzie and Marley threatened to steal the show by courting and becoming talk of the ton. 

It was delightful to play, and it felt like a proper Jane Austen-style story with setbacks, complications, and a happy ending. Towards the end, I was aware that I was thinking “And now we need a scene with these characters…,” as if I was an author, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing.

The new rules and mechanics

Resolve tokens

Even with fewer resolve tokens, we rarely spent them.  Maybe two or three a session? Most often we used them to seal a decision already made. I think that’s fine, and it’s useful to have them in the rules as a fallback – as long as you’re not expecting them to be a big deal.

Reputation

We used the new “reputation by fashion” rules, which sound great in theory but were a bit odd in practice. These work by selecting two reputation tags which represent the current fashion in the ton. The playset includes a table of sixty tags (eg plain or rigid), from which we randomly chose. This meant some headscratching to work out which character best embodied them. Maybe choosing tags shouldn’t be random.

On the other hand, the reputation consequences were great, adding drama to our story. For example, at one point I decided that Eleanor’s father had cut off her allowance, forcing her hand. (I found the consequences that cause your character trouble are more interesting than the others.)

We found that as we approached the game’s climax, we didn’t want to trigger new consequences because they didn’t support the flow of the story. (We had four reputation phases, but only triggered consequences once each, early in the game.)

I don’t think that matters (triggering consequences is always optional), and I wonder if that’s a common experience – focusing on the story rather than the rules as the story approaches its climax. (We did the same with one epistolatory phase as well, when we realised we didn’t have any letters to write.)

I guess if the trajectory hadn’t been so obvious, or had we wanted more complications, we could have triggered more consequences to see what would happen. But it felt unnecessary.

Rumour and scandal

The new rules worked well, particularly having a character overhear a rumour.

My thoughts

So that was Good Society second edition. The new rules are an improvement, especially reputation consequences. I’m not sure how much I would want to play a longer game of Good Society – the game we played felt just about right. 

So, am I going to get the second edition? I am torn between wanting to support the publishers, but not wanting more stuff that I don't actually want (like a book that is 80% the same as I already have, or the alternate settings in Good Society's second volume, which don't interest me much and no doubt will be part of the new set).

And while I would like to play more Good Society, it’s not the only thing I want to play.

So we’ll see. I suspect I'll end up backing it, but probably only at the pdf level.

AireCon 2026

Last weekend was AireCon, the three-day board game and ttrpg convention in Harrogate.

I couldn’t make it on Saturday this year, so instead I just attended on Friday and Sunday, running three TTRPGs.

Friday

Although my game didn’t start until 2pm, I arrived just after 11 and dropped off some games at the bring-and-buy. (My memory last year was that there was an early rush for the bring and buy, but leaving it until later was much more relaxed.)

I then wandered the trade hall, chatted to friends, and had a bit to eat from the food trucks (in their new position outside the convention centre in the grounds of the Hilton Hotel (which was used for ttrpgs and other events – a lovely new venue for this year).

ALIEN: Perfect Organism

I ran Perfect Organism, my five-player cinematic ALIEN scenario that focuses on a USCMC investigation into the loss of the Sulaco after Aliens. The investigation team have arrived at LV-426 and the W-Y station there. Things don’t go well...

I had five great players, and a higher survival rate than many of the games. (Although we burned through the NPCs at quite a rate.)

I had updated the scenario to the current ALIEN rules (Evolved edition) and was interested in seeing how it had changed. While there are lots of small changes (a full list here), the main changes as far as I was concerned were the new stress rules. However, having now experienced the new stress rules, I didn’t like them. Maybe they work in longer games (or where you are making lots and lots of dice rolls), but in a short game like Perfect Organism, stress was never a danger. I may go back to the first edition rules when I run it again.

Saturday

I didn’t make Saturday this year, which was a shame. If I had, I would have spent the day playing board games.

Sunday

Good Society

Good Society is Storybrewers’ Jane Austen game. After my experience at last year’s Furnace, I decided to bring my Wealth and Fortune playset to AireCon. The changes I’ve made are around character generation – I’ve created the base characters and links between them beforehand (just like a pregen), but letting the players create the minor characters.

After my experiences of Hillfolk not filling last year, I was a little reluctant to pitch Good Society, but I needn’t have worried – it filled up pretty quickly. 

I had a full table of five players, and after a slightly slow start, they soon got into the swing of the story and got up to all sorts of shenanigans (including a risqué scene in a lake). We reached a fine conclusion, which included a marriage proposal, so it was all as it should be.

(The slow start isn’t unusual with this kind of game. It can take a little while for the players to warm up properly.)

So I was very happy with how my playset worked. I’ve made a few tweaks and if you’re interested, you can download them here.

Thoughts on Good Society

With a second edition imminent, I had some thoughts on my experience.

Resource tokens: For a one-shot, we had an awful lot of resource tokens on the table. With two per main character and one each for the minor characters, that was 20 resource tokens on the table before we added any for the rumours. (And had I been playing strictly according to the rules, there would have been another 10 on the table – I allowed the minor characters only one resolve token each.) 

And as it happened, we didn’t use resolve tokens all that often. Maybe five or six times? So I think in future, just giving each player two resolve tokens to begin with will probably be enough for a one-shot. (And let them share the tokens between the main and minor characters.)

Reputation: While we used the reputation rules to assign new criteria, it didn’t have much impact on the game. I would be tempted to remove reputation completely from a one-shot, except that the players did adjust their reputation tags as they took actions they felt affected their reputation. 

(Technically, reputation tags can be traded for resolve tokens. As noted, we had masses of resolve tokens, so this was never an issue. Also, doing this removes the tag, which makes sense as a game mechanic but not in terms of character.)

Minor characters: With each player having two, we had ten minor characters involved. Not all of them became part of the story (many appeared only briefly). While I’m tempted to suggest just one minor character each, I think having lots of minor characters gives players more opportunities to find exactly the character they need.

Lunch

AireCon doesn’t leave a huge gap between the first and second sessions – just 45 minutes. I was slightly worried about getting back to the bring-and-buy to collect my earnings and unsold games, but it wasn’t crowded, and I had plenty of time to do that and grab something to eat.

Traveller: Calli’s Heroes

My last game was John Ossoway’s adventure for Traveller: Calli’s Heroes. The PCs are Imperial soldiers operating in a warzone during the Fifth Frontier War, and have the opportunity to loot an Ancient vault full of unimaginable riches.

I’d played Calli’s Heroes last year at Furnace, and so I knew it would be a solid con game. John was kind enough to let me have the files, and so at AireCon I took it out for a spin.

Calli’s Heroes was great. I had five good players, all happy to lean into the squad dynamics. They did appropriately soldierly things and ambushed Vargr mercenaries and Zhodani troops. They ended up with a handful of fabulously valuable Ancient artefacts – assuming they can figure out how to fence them. But that’s another adventure…

Next year

I’m already looking forward to next year. Hopefully I will be able to attend all three days…

Creating detailed characters for a Good Society one-shot

In my last post, I talked about what I will do differently when I run Good Society as a one-shot next, and I created a playset based on the character sheets, desires and relationships.

It didn’t change the game, but put everything onto a single sheet of A4 for easier reading – apart from the relationship cards, which would still be exchanged during setup.

But why not go further?

Making it more trad

Why, in a convention one-shot of Good Society, should I expect players to create their characters at all? 

After all, I didn’t roll up characters for the other games at Furnace—Traveller, 7th Sea and Cepheus Universal. I was given a character with names and backgrounds complete.

Yes, they were all trad games and have a different playstyle from Good Society. But I think there’s an advantage in giving players fully developed characters rather than expecting them to come up with something coherent in under 30 minutes.

Going awry

I find it easy to go awry when collaboratively creating characters for story games like Good Society (or Hillfolk or Fiasco). It’s particularly easy if you aren’t experienced at the game. And I’m not – I like to play and run a good range of games, but as a result, I’m not an expert at any of them.

As a result, I find it’s a big ask to facilitate the creation of a coherent set of characters in under 30 minutes for a convention game. (Vee Hendro allows 22 minutes in her video on running Good Society at conventions. But she wrote the game.)

Too eager to please

And because I’m bad at saying “no” to player suggestions, characters can sometimes end up a little “off”. And as a result, we can end up with ideas that don’t feel very Jane Austen-y. 

Now, that usually doesn’t matter. We still have great games, but the purist in me wants to play a Jane Austen-y game (even if we are ignoring the more awful views of that time).

I’m sure that’s my lack of experience, along with not wanting to upset anyone.

Luckily, this didn’t happen at Furnace this year, but I can think of games of Hillfolk where player choices (and my lack of pushback) meant we stuttered in places.

Making it more freeform-y

So that’s what I’ve done. I’ve taken the Wealth and Fortune playset (page 196) and fleshed out the characters and relationships.

I’ve given the characters names and genders. I’ve not touched the connections – we can still do that as part of setup at the start of play.

The character sheets look much more like freeform characters now. Mostly backstory, with just a little room for mechanics. The character sheets are also clearer and simpler, as I cut plenty of text that, once I’d made a decision, wasn’t needed. I can’t say I’m displeased with this.

Harder than I expected

But it wasn’t easy. In fact, it was a lot harder than I expected.

In Jane Austen-land, women don’t have as many rights as men. They rarely own property, and in the stories, the female characters’ fate is often entirely in the hands of menfolk. (Now I know in a game things can be different, but I’m aiming for a traditional Jane Austen vibe. It’ll go crazy enough as soon as players are involved—I don’t want it to start crazy.)

I started with the five-player set: Heir, Cornerstone, Dependant, Tutor, and the New Arrival. (I ignored the suggested spare character.)

Traditionally, the Heir ought to be male and the Tutor female. The others were less clear-cut, but the relationships (in love, cousins, previous romance, patron and so on) made it harder to create coherent backstories than I expected.

For example, the Tutor has a patron, but that is unlikely to be the Cornerstone or the Dependent (who both have money problems, so are unlikely to be able to sponsor her) or the New Arrival (unless the Tutor is also a new arrival, but that has complications elsewhere), which leaves the Heir as the Tutor’s patron.

(That assumes I stick to standard Jane Austen heterosexual genre tropes. I don’t have to, of course, but as I’ve said, I want to create Austen-compatible characters.)

I wanted roughly equal male/female characters, and played around with combinations for a while until I realised I needed a relationship map. So I created one:

I found this really helpful – I referred to it constantly. The spurs to unnamed characters (eg to the unnamed uncles) are for minor characters. We will add those by hand at the table.

(In a regular game of Good Society, where you have a full session zero to thrash this sort of thing out, I don’t think it’s a problem. But in a convention one-shot, time is pressing.)

Changes for four players

Changing to four players should be easy, right? Just drop a female character (so we have two male and two female characters) and shuffle the relationships to fill the gaps.

But it wasn’t that easy. If I dropped the New Arrival and reshuffled the relationships, that would make the Heir and Cornerstone (both males) old flames. That’s fine for a queer-game, but it doesn’t work for my Austen-compatible game.

(And if I drop the Tutor, then the Dependent and the Heir become cousins, which changes the dynamic of the inheritance desire. And dropping the Dependent means the Tutor and the Cornerstone are publicly engaged, which would need explaining, given that Cornerstone’s family has money problems and the Tutor is a, well, tutor.)

So I dropped the New Arrival and looked for a completely different relationship (rivals).

Here’s the four-player relationship map:

One-shot backstory madness

Thinking all this through has revealed how hard it is to create a coherent backstory in under 30 minutes for a one-shot. 

I found it interesting that a notionally very flexible playset turned out to be actually fairly restrictive in trying to get it to make sense.

Anyway, now I have a set of characters I’m happy with, and I’ve uploaded them here if you want to see what I’ve done.

Is this an improvement?

Well, that’s a good question, and I don’t have enough experience to tell at this stage.

Am I taking too much away from the players? I’m not touching their connections, so they will have some input. But is that enough? I won’t know until I try it.

And will players mind? I doubt it – pregens are common in convention games.

(I can apply the same logic to Hillfolk. Creating characters is fun, but there’s rarely enough time at con game to do it justice, and if the players aren’t firing on all cylinders, the result can be a little weak. So maybe I should create the characters myself and then concentrate on play?)

What have I learned?

I like ttrpgs where the players drive action. I want to see dramatic scenes where players are trying to outwit and complicate their fellow players. So games like Good Society and Hillfolk.

However, a weakness of storygames like these is that creating characters in a rush can be unsatisfying.

The games are supremely flexible, and with enough time, you can really dive into the relationships and background and create solid characters. But at a convention, I don’t have time. As much fun as character creation in these games is, there’s a lot to be said for creating a solid set of characters for players just to pick up and play.

But of course, I’ve yet to try it…

(And if you want to try them yourself, you can download them here.)

One-shot Good Society: Changes

Having recently run Good Society as a one-shot at Furnace (see here), I have some thoughts.

From what I could tell, the players enjoyed themselves getting up to Jane Austen-y hijinks. It was definitely a success, but I think a few things would have made it easier for me to run it.

My changes

Five main characters at most

Maybe Good Society is happy with more main characters (which is what Good Society calls its PCs), but not in a time-limited one-shot. Having fewer main characters gives everyone more time to play.

Don’t play and facilitate

I tried to both facilitate and play a character. That was a mistake. Perhaps with an experienced group it would be fine, but with players new to the game (and, honestly, a relatively inexperienced Facilitator), I should have stuck to facilitating.

Simplify character documentation

The Good Society character sheets are pretty, but didn’t find them particularly practical for a one-shot. They consist of an A4 sheet with three columns, one of which is taken up with a character portrait, plus another third of an A4 sheet (for family background), plus a desire card and a relationship card…

They also include things that aren’t necessary for a one-shot (eg inner conflict), and the text is tiny because of the huge character image. 

So I have redesigned the character sheet to be simpler:

• Removed the image and put that on a separate card as an identifier/standee.
• Removed the unnecessary information (inner conflicts)
• Added the desire to the character sheet – that means I can eliminate the desire cards.
• Added their side of the relationship card. (The relationship card itself will still be given away during the backstory.)
• Added summary details for their connection. (But connections are otherwise unchanged.)

It's not as pretty, but it is more readable.

Have a starting scene in mind

This wasn’t an issue, but it’s worth having a starting scene in mind to get the game moving. Our first novel chapter was set at a ball for the New Arrival, and the starting scene I had in mind was the host (or hostess) welcoming the New Arrival.

Create a relationship map

Which I didn’t do, and I lost track of how everyone knew each other. And that was just the main characters – let alone all the minor characters… I’ll know better next time!

Ignore reputation conditions

A one-shot has only one reputation phase, so they are unlikely to trigger. So instead, use the reputation tags for roleplaying (and resolve tokens).

Redesign the public information sheet

Everything is too small. Move the reputation tags to table name tents (see below) and make everything bigger. There are unlikely to be more than seven or eight rumours (there is only one rumour phase in a one-shot), so use the extra space so you can write larger and more legibly.

(And I’ll add a blank relationship map to it as well.)

Use table name tents

(You should do this in every game – not just Good Society.) Include your character, their role and family, their reputation tags – and the name of the player playing them.

In fact, I’ve gone one better and created some bespoke table name tents for the characters. (Click here to download the table name tent files.)

Is play different?

Play is basically unchanged. During backstory, the players will still exchange relationship cards and create connections. And then we’ll play.

Trying it out

And all I need now is an opportunity to try this!

But before I do, I have ideas about making a one-shot game of Good Society more like a freeform. More on that here.

Scenes in RPGs

I started roleplaying in the 1980s, went into a deep freeze in the late 1990s and didn’t come out until about a decade ago. “Scenes” were one of the new things indie games brought to TTRPGs, and I still find them tricky.

It doesn’t help that many RPGs don’t explain scenes properly. It seems like “scene” has become a specific piece of TTRPG terminology that is subtly different from its usual meaning. And everyone assumes that everyone knows what is meant when they talk about “scenes”.

As a result, it can be a bit of a muddle. This is my attempt to unravel that puzzle.

Dictionary definition

According to Google, there are two meanings to scene:

• The place where an incident in real life or fiction occurs or occurred.
• A sequence of continuous action in a play, film, opera, or book.

The first definition is straightforward, but when you start thinking about the play/film/opera/book definition, it gets a bit trickier.

Back when I helped out with the local pantomime, everyone knew what scenes were. Scene one was the big opening scene. Scene two took place in front of the “greys”, the grey curtains pulled across the stage that hid the backstage crew changing the scenery. When scene two ended, the greys opened to reveal scene three. And so on. A two-hour pantomime might have no more than nine or ten scenes.

In movies, scenes are often shorter. So rescuing Princess Leia in Star Wars becomes many scenes: the room where Luke persuades Han to rescue her, the turbolift, the detention centre, Princess Leia’s cell, and so on. Again, these are all location-based as they are different sets.

But in a roleplaying game?

Well, they vary. Some use scenes, some don’t. Some use scenes in a specific way, some use the term but don’t really define them.

Trad and other games

Broadly, in RPGs, trad games don’t use scenes. They might mention them, but they’re using them in the sense of the first dictionary definition: they’re a place or location.

So in Traveller, Call of Cthulhu, Liminal, D&D, Runequest, ALIEN, and the like, scene doesn’t have a particular meaning.

Scene-based games

Some games build scenes into their mechanics. Many of these are GM-less, and the term ‘scene’ is used when a player controls what’s happening.

(I’m sure many other games use scenes. These are the ones I am familiar with.)

GMless games

Games without a GM often use scenes as a way for each player’s character to have spotlight time. Other PCs may be in those scenes, but everyone at the table knows who the spotlight is on during the scene.

Fiasco: Each character gets four scenes where they are in the spotlight. Fiasco confuses things because players can decide whether to “establish” their scene (set it up – who is there, what’s going on) or “resolve” the scene (decide on its outcome – the other players establish the scene). Much as I enjoy Fiasco, I find this fairly counterintuitive in play – particularly when a player chooses to resolve.

Follow and Kingdom: Ben Robbins uses scenes in his games to “… shine a spotlight on your character to see what they think and do…” In both games, the player decides who is in the scene, where it takes place, and what’s going on. Then, you play to find out what happens.

Unfortunately, these games don’t clearly state the one piece of advice that I find makes a scene really sing: to know what your character wants from the scene. (They may not get it, of course.)

GM-ed games

Hillfolk and Good Society both use scenes.

Hillfolk has a strict player turn order. When it’s your turn, you create a scene involving your character. You establish it as with other games (where, when, who and so on) – and if it’s a dramatic scene, you decide on the emotional reward you want from another character.

(Hillfolk also has other types of scenes, but dramatic scenes are the main ones.)

Good Society uses scenes for roleplaying, but fails to explain clearly what they are or how to manage them. As a result, scenes felt directionless and saggy and dragged on too long.  I talked about this when I played Good Society.

Most Trusted Advisors uses “scene” liberally throughout the text, but it doesn’t explain what they are. However, from my experience of running Most Trusted Advisors, I think it would benefit from more rigorous scene discipline.

Tips for scenes

So for these types of games, these are the questions that whoever is establishing the scene needs to consider:

• Where is it?
• When is it?
• Who is present?
• What is going on?
• What do I want?

And for me, the last point is the most important in helping to keep scenes punchy. If you know what you want going into a scene, it’s much clearer when the scene is over. (And I find it helps to tell the other players what you have in mind, so they can react accordingly.)

Games that get muddled

Some games use scenes liberally in their text (e.g. Blades in the Dark and Monster of the Week), but they don’t have much of a mechanical effect, so the fact that they’ve not defined what a scene is doesn’t matter too much.

Unfortunately, the same isn’t true for other games.

Fate Core defines a scene as “A scene is a unit of game time lasting anywhere from a few minutes to a half hour or more, during which the players try to achieve a goal or otherwise accomplish something significant in a scenario.”

Scenes are important in Fate mainly because a character’s stress boxes clear after each scene. But what is a scene? That’s left to the GM, and isn’t always clear, despite the advice above. I don’t know if rescuing Princess Leia from the Death Star is one or many scenes in Fate. Is rescuing the princess enough of a goal? Or can you break it down into smaller scenes? (Such as blagging our way into the detention centre, escaping from the detention centre, and getting back to the Falcon) As far as recovering stress goes, this difference could be critical. (I might do it either way, depending on the tone of the game.)

Lady Blackbird allows characters to refresh their dice pools by having a “refreshment scene” with another character. Lady Blackbird doesn’t explicitly say what these are but suggests that they’re quiet moments with other PCs. (I really like these as a way to encourage roleplaying between characters – it’s such a lovely design.)

Going back to Star Wars, Leia’s moment with Luke aboard the Millennium Falcon just after Ben Kenobi’s death is the sort of thing I imagine when I think of a refreshment scene. (And Luke has clearly refreshed his dice pool as he mans the Falcon’s gun turret and blasts away at the incoming TIE fighters.)

And it’s not just me

And it’s not just me! This recent post on substack and this thread on RPGnet suggests others are thinking about this as well. I had already earmarked this as something I wanted to reflect on after playing and running Good Society and Most Trusted Advisors earlier in the year. These posts have, however, prompted me to finish this post.

Good Society at the table

Two years ago, I wrote a review of Good Society based on a read-through of the rules. 

Now, finally, I have played it. Here’s how it went.

The players

We have four players:

• Thomas playing Samuel FitzgGeorge (old money)
• Terry, playing hedonist Louisa Trotter
• Jon, playing meddler Elspeth Blackstone.
• Me, playing the socialite, Captain George Wetherby (I’m aiming for a Wickham/Willoughby sort – I’ve called him Wetherby because Jane Austen’s rakes often have surnames beginning with W).

Thomas is also facilitating. I’m not running it because I wanted a break after As the Sun Forever Sets, and Thomas was happy to bring Good Society to the table.

We also have a range of minor characters (known as connections) – for example, I’m also playing Louisa’s friend Hettie Bower.

Online with Trello

We’re playing online using Trello as our virtual tabletop and Discord for video chat. We have a weekly two-hour slot, but we don’t always play every week (because life sometimes gets in the way). 

That doesn’t mean two solid hours of playing, however, as we’re often slow in getting going as we start with some social chat and then have to remember what happened last time. (This is especially true if we’ve had a break of a couple of weeks.) So, on average, I guess our sessions are about 1 hour and 45 minutes of playing time.

Backstory (session 1)

In our first session, we set up our game and created our major and minor characters. 

As this is our first game, we’re keeping things simple and playing the Farce playset, which is light-hearted and suited for beginners.

Create major characters

These are the PCs – the stars of the show.

Set up the playset: Normally this would consist of choosing desire and relationship cards from a deck, but Thomas had done his homework and had put everything we needed on a Trello board.

Choose desires: We then each chose our character’s desire. I picked “A large income is the best recipe for happiness I have ever heard of” – my character wanted money! This then came with a relationship – a rival! Picking this desire also gave me my role (Socialite) and I chose the Military background.

Form relationships: We formed relationships by giving our relationship card to another player. I suggested that Thomas (who was playing the New Arrival) might want to be my rival, and he agreed.

Flesh out the major characters: Now is the time to collaboratively fill in the blanks and work out how the characters actually know each other and what has happened in the past. And while we did that, we filled out the rest of the character sheet.

Introductions: Finally, the characters are introduced. (And in our case, add appropriate illustrations to the Trello board.)

Part of our Trello board

Create connections

Connections are supporting characters – and we created two each. You can either use the deck of connections or use the potential connections on your character sheet. We did the latter. I created my father, Fitzwilliam Wetherby and Lydia Bennett, who has a huge crush on George.

Complete connection sheet: Fill out their name, their relationship with the major character, what they think of that character and so on.

Select a connection to control: Then choose a connection to control – ideally one that’s not linked too closely to your major character (because talking to yourself is awkward). I picked Hettie Bower, Louisa’s best friend.

And as that had taken up our entire evening, we left our first scene until the next session.

Playing the game

The game is played over a series of cycles, each of which is broken into phases.

• Novel
• Reputation
• Rumour and Scandal
• Epistolary
• Novel
• Rumour and Scandal
• Epistolary
• Upkeep

Cycle 1 (sessions 2-4)

Novel chapter: We started with an “event scene” (one where everyone is present) at a ball at Templeton Grange, held to celebrate Simon FitzGeorge’s return home. That gave everyone a chance to start to get to know their characters and interact with others.

Reputation phase: With the dance over, we checked whether our reputation had changed. There are mechanical ways this happens – and my reputation hadn’t changed.

Rumour and scandal phase: We then each had two actions where we could either create or spread a rumour (or create two rumours or spread two rumours). The rumours could be about anything, and in this cycle, we created rumours that were mostly true. In the following cycle, we started creating rather more fantastic rumours designed to help us achieve our goals.

Spread rumours get resolve tokens that can be spent to affect the game (although we took a while to understand how this worked). Rumours that weren’t spread eventually faded and dropped out of the game.

Epistolary phase: Letter writing! We each wrote two letters – mostly to other characters or sometimes to new ones. I wrote a letter to my father (a connection played by Terry) asking for money, and another letter to Elspeth (played by Jon), my old flame.

It’s fun writing the letters (they don’t need to be actually written out – you can just describe what they say), and I think the limit of two per player is to stop this phase from getting out of hand.

Novel chapter: And back to roleplaying. While our first chapter was an “event” (everyone present in one scene), this time, we had a “visitation” chapter. This consisted of individual scenes of the characters calling on one another to further their goals.

As Cpt George Wetherby, I struggled to work out how I would get money. The traditional way would have been to marry into it, but my old flame’s ardour had cooled and I wasn’t sure how best to proceed.

Reputation phase: Another reputation phase.

Upkeep phase: We ended our first cycle with an upkeep phase. First, everyone spends monologue tokens – which are used to get a character to speak their inner thoughts. Nobody had used a monologue token at this point, so we spent those. Then all the resolve and monologue tokens reset, at which point we realised that nobody had used a resolve token either.

(We aren’t using inner conflicts, which are also progressed in this phase.)

Cycle 2 (sessions 5-7)

I resolved to engage more with the mechanics in this cycle.

Novel chapter: Another event scene – this time a picnic. I was keen to try out the mechanics and burned through both my resolve and monologue tokens.

I arrived at the picnic with Lydia Bennett on my arm and spent a resolve token to make Elspeth (my old flame, played by Jon) jealous. There’s some negotiation with resolve tokens (in case you’re proposing something the other player objects to), but in this case (and perhaps because it was our first resolve token of the game), Jon accepted it.

I then spent my monologue token to hear Samuel FitzGeorge’s inner thoughts. He was concerned about the upcoming local elections, where he was the Tory candidate. I then struck up a conversation with Samuel, where he expressed his concern about the upcoming election. I then bided my time and, in a later scene, spent my last resolve token to get Samuel to accept my help in preparing for the election (and hopefully skim some cash for myself).

While this is going on, the others are also progressing their characters’ schemes – although some with more success than others.

Reputation, rumour and scandal: More of the same – my reputation is still unaffected.

Epistolary phase: My first letter was to Samuel from George, with various ideas for the upcoming campaign. My second letter was from my connection (Hettie) to a friend in London, seeking information about Samuel’s political rival.

Novel chapter: Another chapter of lots of little scenes with characters visiting each other. We also had a montage of Samuel and George campaigning for votes. During this phase, I figured out how to use rumours.

Samuel was showing an interest in courting my sister, Lilibeth. However, there was a rumour that “Samuel and Louisa spent some time alone in the Orangerie during the ball.” So I mischievously warned Lilibeth that I suspected Samuel and Louisa had an “understanding” (were secretly engaged) and spent the rumour’s resolve token attached to affect the story.

This immediately created chaos and several new scenes:

• Lilibeth has heard the rumour and tries to get Samuel to confess it, but Samuel does not know what is going on, and Lilibeth storms off.
• Lilibeth calls on Elsbeth and confesses her situation with Samuel, Elsbeth advises her to ask Joanna (Louisa’s sister) about it, as surely she should know.
• Hettie asks Louisa about Samuel’s proposal. Louisa denies it, and Hettie suggests Louisa should be more circumspect when keeping company with men. Hettie asks Louisa to make sure Samuel doesn’t think he’s proposed to her.

That ended our session – and I thought the chapter. Unfortunately, we continued the chapter in the next session, and I felt the scenes were less directed and full of padding.

Reputation phase: Check to see if our characters have done anything to affect their reputation. I may be playing George a little too safely, as I haven’t earned any reputation tags. However, Jon’s character has three positive reputation tags, and so he chooses to have Joanna as Elspeth’s protégé. (This is like Emma Woodhouse taking Harriet Smith under her wing in Emma.) This has lots of story potential and makes me wish I was finding it easier to earn reputation, good or bad.

Epistolary and upkeep: We ended with more letters and an upkeep phase where resolve and monologue tokens were refreshed. We also agreed that, as things seemed to be heading towards some kind of conclusion, the next cycle would be the last.

Cycle 3 (sessions 8-9)

Our last cycle, and things started getting crazy. In a good way.

Novel chapter: We start the third cycle at the election hustings, where my father finds out that I’ve been skimming from Samuel’s campaign funds. Later on we have a stand-up row, and he disowns me.  However, I spend a resolve token to impress Joanna (who has just come into an inheritance – something that was only revealed last cycle), and end up challenging George McDonald to a duel to defend Joanna and Louisa’s honour. (Yikes! A duel!)

At a post-hustings soiree, I kiss Joanna – and she seeks advice from Elspeth on what to do. Elspeth confronts me and I confess my fondness for Elspeth, but we fall out badly. Unseen by either of us, Lydia overhears… We ended the scene before the duel – and decided to refer to it during the epistolatory phase. (I have no resolve tokens left and told my fellow players that I was happy for my fate to be in their hands – to be decided in the next session.)

This was a superb session – lots of fast, punchy scenes and drama. Brilliant.

Reputation, rumour and scandals: My reputation took a hit this time! I showed strong emotion (a negative criteria for me) but I also stood up for Louisa and Joanna (positive criteria). Not enough, yet, for it to affect play though. (Technically, this being the last cycle, we should have skipped this phase. But we missed that rule until the end.)

Epistolary phase: More letters. Samuel spent a resolve token to have me wounded in the duel because my opponent cheated and shot early. (As well as wounding me, this let him achieve his political goals.) So that was the topic of several letters. Samuel was most surprised to receive one from Elspeth suggesting that he should propose to her!

Final novel chapter: My character arc was more or less complete – all I needed to do was propose to dear, sweet (and now very rich) Joanna. I was still out of resolve tokens, but the other players didn’t interfere. Instead, the chapter was mostly about Samuel’s dilemma. He had been courting Lilibeth (my character’s sister) but the letter from Elspeth had put his head in a spin. He decides to let fate decide, by racing two of his favourite horses bearing their ribbons. However, Elspeth spends a resolve token to turn his head in her favour, and we end the chapter with Samuel proposing to Elspeth. 

So a happy, Jane Austen-y ending!

Final epistolary phase: Set some years later, this functions as an epilogue to the game. Samuel and Elspeth are together and spend lots of time in London. Louisa continues to weave her webs of deceit, and George and Joanna are living in America celebrating the birth of their fourth child.

And after all that, what do I think?

We had a slow start to Good Society, mainly because it’s a different style of game to how we normally play. It’s collaborative and, at the same time player-v-player; play is directed generally towards other players rather than the GM/facilitator. That’s how I like to play, but for others, it was more of a shock, and it took us a while to get going.

I’m sure we’d find it easier with more practice. (We said the same about Fiasco.)

Players: I suspect Good Society sings when everyone is familiar with the Jane Austen tropes and stories. Unfortunately, only two of us were familiar with the stories – and while that wasn’t essential to have a good game (and we had a good game), I suspect things would have been smoother had everyone been on the same page. I would like to try Good Society with a different group.

(The fact we are all blokes, mostly beardy and towards the end of middle age, may have hindered our embrace of the romantic side of the game.)

Characters: During character creation, we should have been more specific about our character’s background. For example, Terry told us that his character (Louisa) and Jon’s (Elspeth) were former friends, until Louisa’s cruel actions ended the relationship abruptly. However, we didn’t initially drill down to find out exactly what those cruel actions were – the specifics would have helped the game. 

Scenes: Sometimes, we found scenes a little troublesome. They weren’t always clear, or they dragged on a little. Scenes are common in a lot of indie games – but rarely do they have good advice for setting scenes, and Good Society is no exception.

As we are so used to traditional RPGs, some advice on scene setting would have helped. I found my scenes were most satisfying when I kept the following in mind:

• Where is the scene set?
• When is the scene in the timeline?
• Who is present?
• What do you want?

However, we didn’t always do this (I wasn’t facilitating, and I didn’t want to step on Thomas’s toes). Consequently, I found some scenes saggy and dragged on.

Who calls? Who gets to call the next scene isn’t clear. I noted that in a couple of novel chapters, it seemed as if a couple of the players hadn’t called scenes. Their characters had been in plenty, so it seemed as if they were having a lot of spotlight time, but they’d not called scenes themselves and so weren’t necessarily progressing their desires. I wonder if having a randomised turn order (like I’ve been doing in Hillfolk) would have helped.

More care with names: We had too many similar names in our cast: George Wetherby, George McDonald, Samuel FitzGeorge, and Fitzwilliam Wetherby. The two Georges were a particular challenge, particularly in the ongoing game log, as occasionally it wasn’t clear which George was being referred to.

The system: the system isn’t particularly clunky, but it’s a bit fiddly and took us a while to get our heads around. Once I understood how resolve tokens and rumours and reputation worked, things were much simpler – but I’m not sure everyone did, as we had plenty of unspent resolve tokens at the end of the earlier cycles.

Would I play again?

Yes, definitely. Ideally with a group of players more familiar with the setting and tropes.

Good Society is available from Storybrewers Roleplaying.

Good Society – first impressions

I picked up Good Society as part of Storybrewer's recent Kickstarter. While the pdfs were delivered earlier in the year, I waited until I had the physical books in my hand before reading them. So these are my first impressions; I’ve not played it yet.

Good Society is a Jane Austen roleplaying game. It has a modern-day approach focussed on telling Jane Austen-like stories. While it can be hacked (and there’s a volume of variations, Expanded Acquaintance, which I’ve yet to read), if you’re using Good Society to run an investigative horror game, you are doing it wrong. (And that’s not something I like to say.)

As I’m a fan of Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility and (to a lesser extent) Emma, Good Society was pushing on an open door.

Physically

Physically, Good Society is a 6x9 hardback with pleasing layout and art. There’s lots of white space, giving the text plenty of room to breathe. The writing is engaging and easy to read—at first glance the game looks fiddly, but everything is explained clearly and I feel like I’m in safe hands.

I found the font a little small and I need good light to read it by—particularly the green flavour text where the contrast is reduced. (As I get older, this is a more common complaint and one of the benefits of pdfs.) It’s a shame the font couldn’t have been a touch larger—the margins are wide, and I’m sure a larger font could have been accommodated without additional pages.

Good Society also comes with a deck of cards (desires, relationships and minor characters) plus pdfs for character roles (kind of like playbooks), family background, connections and public information.

Characters

Characters are created as a group. Each player controls a major character with a:

• Desire—what they want (to marry, to get revenge, to deal with a scandal)
• Relationship—to other characters (siblings, secret betrothals, rivals)
• Role sheet—who they are (heir, socialite, dowager)
• Family—how they were brought up (old money, new money, foreign)

Good Society is set up so that the characters’ differing desires create conflict and drama. Desires and relationships are provided as cards, and Good Society collects them into playsets to suit different styles of game.

A Jane Austen character needs more than just major characters—it also has a cast of minor characters. Therefore, each player also creates two minor characters. Minor characters are played by the facilitator (if there is one) or by other players.

One thing missing from character generation is any sense of numbers. Thankfully there are no skills or attributes—there aren’t even any dice. Which brings me to system.

System

Good Society is one of these new-fangled games without dice, attributes, or skills. Characters can do whatever they like, given they are characters in a Jane Austen novel. There are no scenarios or adventures—instead, the players create conflict (and the story) by advancing their characters’ desires.

Mechanically, Good Society uses two types of tokens: resolve tokens and monologue tokens.

Resolve tokens shape the story in significant ways—they feel a bit like Fate tokens (for compels or using them to state a fact—not for adding +2 or re-rolling the dice). Although as I said, I have yet to play Good Society and they may feel different in play.

Monologue tokens are played on other players to force them to reveal their character’s inner thoughts in a monologue. (Not so you can use that knowledge, but simply because it suits the genre.) I’m looking forward to trying monologue tokens.

The strangest element of Good Society’s system is the phases of play. Good Society takes place over 3-8 cycles of play (decide how many cycles to play before you start). A cycle includes:

• Novel chapter: actual roleplaying, typically based around an event or a visitation.
• Reputation: assess characters’ reputation and assign tags.
• Rumour and scandal: Creating and spreading rumours.
• Epistolatory: Writing a letter. (You don’t actually write a letter, just describe who you are writing to and what the letter contains. I guess you could write a letter if you wanted to.)
• Novel chapter: Another bit of roleplaying.
• Reputation: assess characters’ reputation again.
• Rumour and scandal: More rumours.
• Epistolatory: Another letter.
• Upkeep: Refreshing tokens, and so on.

Each cycle should take 2-3.5 hours of play, so about a session’s worth. From an old-school roleplaying perspective, these cycles of play look very strange. But the bulk of time appears to be spent in the novel chapters, which is roleplaying as we know it.

Five things I like

In no particular order:

• Good Society is well-written and presented. Although I’ve not played it yet, everything is explained clearly and I don’t think I will struggle with it.
• I like the monologue tokens—I’ve played in a Shakespearean larp that had done something similar, but I’ve not used it in a tabletop game.
• I like stories driven by the characters’ desires. (That’s very like Lady Blackbird and freeform larps.)
• Characters are created collaboratively as a group. As a result, character creation looks like it will be fun.
• Good Society can be played without a facilitator, which I am looking forward to trying (once I’ve got a few GM-ed games under my belt). I want to play too!

And one thing I don’t

One jarring note in Good Society occurs exactly three times (four if you count the index): the game is set in the fictional town of Habershire. Which would be fine, except that a name ending in -shire is an English county, not a town. It seems an odd mistake for a team that clearly love Jane Austen.

Overall

Good Society is full of intriguing ingredients (cycles of play, resolve and monologue tokens, desires, major and minor characters, cards, playsheets). It’s hard to judge what play will be like (possibly harder than most RPGs), but I suspect it makes for a satisfying game. I hope to find out sometime in 2022.

Further viewing

While on the subject of Jane Austen (not something I normally talk about on this blog), may I also recommend Bridgerton and Belgravia, which are Austen-adjacent and cover many of the same themes. I’ve only seen the TV shows, but there are novels for each.

Then there is the wonderful Lost in Austen, my favourite time-travel story in which our modern-day heroine swaps places with Pride and Prejudice’s Elizabeth and the story is never the same again.

2024 update: I've now played it! Click here to see what I thought.