Troika! (), in my opinion, is an example of movement towards the theoretical anti-canon system. It feels in memory like it is more or less mech-text free. I suspect – intentionally or not – that I have similar goals in writing Infinite Hack to what Daniel Sell had in writing Troika. This post is going to be a review through my recently invented lenses of canon-text, mech-text, and anti-text, hoping to gain insight into the challenges a system that avoids canon-text, minimises mech-text, and maximises anti-text might face.
I open the beautiful front cover and ugh! A wall of meaningless numbers overwhelms me. The Damage Table. I understand the point, here: Troika uses only one set of dice, so for diverse effects and damages, a table is required. One type of dice is adds simplicity. Diverse effects adds interest. But for me, in practice, the wall of numbers accompanied by asterisks and daggers is overwhelming. I have found my first challenge: Specific rules impede understanding.
The second thing I see: A spell randomiser that doubles as an index. If I want A Thousand Thousand Islands the system, indexes are walls of words similar to walls of numbers. The blank space in A Thousand Thousand Islands and in Ludicrous Compendium are meaningful in my opinion. They are text, void-text if you well: Speech that states: Only you can fill this space. The second challenge of the anti-canon system: Focusing on text usability can impede textual void.
To me, the one page introduction to Troika, describing both RPGs and Troika’s setting in under a page, powerfully communicates the the infinite variety and possibility available to players. It does this through minimising any definition of either role-playing games or of Troika the city or the adventures to be had in it or embarking from it. Troika here rises to a third challenge, where in my opinion it did not the first two: Over-defining lore impedes possibility.
Character generation in Troika appears as simple as choosing a background. As much time is devoted to making your own background as to explaining them. No mech-text on advancement and otherwise mech-text is limited to single numbers with uncertain meaning assigned to advanced skills and spells. More importantly, this section effectively opens the game with a pitch to the non-GM players:
Notice that [backgrounds] only touch the edge of specificity: it is up to you to tailor them to the worlds you play in. Rework them or remove them entirely and replace them with your own unique vision of the Spheres. Boldly lay claim to the games you play, create content recklessly, and always write in pen.
Indicating that in fact, character generation is not as simple as choosing a background, but rather a constant and active engagement of reckless collaboration. This prompts a re-phrasing of the third challenge: Any defined lore or rule can impede the reckless approach to creation.
The Rules, which are next, are about 14 pages in total (), half of which are devoted to combat. The mech-text isn’t too heavy, but is clumsy in a way that makes it feel heavier than it is. That clumsiness (mainly around combat, henchmen and encumbrance) implies that combat will be half your play time and that a significant portion of the rest of your time will be treasure-hunting (). This prompts a modification of the first challenge: Specific rulings impede understanding and reveal intent.
For me, with a background in AD&D 2E and it’s Complete Handbooks, through 3.5E and 5E, rather than earlier editions or Advanced Fighting Fantasy, there is more to learn in Troika’s advancement rule, which amounts to ‘skills you succeed at get better’. Because of my assumed () different background in terms of playstyle, I value advancement significantly more than many authors interested in traditional fantasy roleplaying. To me, opportunities for lonely play and interesting character options evolving with mechanical prompting and support are meaningful. But Troika avoids this. Why? I think one implication is that advancement is expected to be diagetic and not mechanical (). But also because if backgrounds all have unique mechanics with novel advancement options, it adds a significant mech-textual load. Troika’s decision not to do this confirms our first challenge: Specific rules impede understanding and reveal intent.
The bulk of Troika are lists of Backgrounds, Advanced Skills, Items, Spells and Enemies. The lists in Troika range from perfect examples of anti-text to utter wastes of space. Backgrounds are universally spectacular, particularly when they leverage Advanced Skills as anti-text; the Advanced Skills section itself however is full of largely pointless definitions and rules, with occasional anti-text like “Test this to navigate between the stars on a ship with golden mirror sails”. The potential is there, but the third challenge is again confirmed: Any defined lore or rule can impede the reckless approach to creation.
Items are either anti-text in title (why is an energy weapon a pistolet?) or in content (“whisper a secret to a pocket and throw it away for luck”). Between their Mien tables and their descriptions, most every enemy is anti-text, even the few that are rote, like dragons. Spells are simply evocative, as is the OOPS! Table in the back cover spread, with a few examples of anti-text. The spells in Troika prompt a fourth challenge: Anti-text is not only evocative, but both evocative and cryptic.
The Blancmange and Thistle is an introductory adventure included with Troika. It’s full of exciting and interesting, unique opportunities, and very evocative and anti-textual of the city of Troika. But the formatting (small caps bold, small caps, italics, and bold italics all having different meanings) is distracting and that formatting is hidden in novel-like paragraphs of text. There are about 10 encounters and 10 characters all of whom are detailed and interesting and all of which I would struggle to apply at the table without studying first for as long as it would take to run. A confirmation to the second challenge, then: Focusing on text usability can impede textual void.
I think this Troika review yields fruit. Four (preliminary) principles to challenge my approach to anti-canon systems, each of which, I think, stand on their own, and all of which might be applicable to my development of Infinite Hack:
- Specific rules impede understanding and reveal intent.
- Focusing on text usability can impede textual void.
- Any defined lore or rule can impede the reckless approach to creation.
- Anti-text is not only evocative, but both evocative and cryptic.
Questions for readers: How do you feel about these principles? Are they useful for someone other than me? Are there other systems like Troika that take anti-canon approaches to traditional categories that I could look at next, to see if the principles hold or need revision? Does this line of thought raise any tangents worth exploring, that I missed?
8th January 2022,
Idle Cartulary
For the sake of simplified punctuation, I’m going to leave the exclamation mark out of Troika! for the rest of this post.
I’m taking into account odd paragraphs here and there throughout the lists in my count.
I’m aware that this is reflective of specific traditional modes of play. It’s just not interesting to me in that context, just in the context of Troika supporting these modes of play without ever speaking of them. It reveals a tension between Troika’s stated intention and it’s legacy.
I say assumed because Planescape and Spelljammer, which appear to be inspirations for the world of Troika, were not particularly enamoured of traditional modes of play. So the tension is further interesting because of that.
Tying back into the above sub-discussion about specific traditional modes of play.
Playful Void 