Five or So Questions on the Curse of the House of Rookwood

An image of the book for The Curse of the House of Rookwood in black and grey with very stylized block serif text and a cameo with a skeleton in clothes and with hair on the cover.

Hi all, today I have an interview with Mike Addison about The Curse of the House of Rookwood, which is currently on Kickstarter and looking to hit some stretch goals! It sounds really interesting and explores family dynamics – check out Mike’s responses below!

A black & white illustration that looks like a woodcutting featuring a tall white-haired man, a shorter dark haired man, a long-haired woman in a white dress, a very elderly man in front sitting, and a man in the back holding a stick of some kind adjusting something.

Tell me a little about The Curse of the House of Rookwood. What excites you about it?

Rookwood is a story game where you play a family with an ancient curse that grants them supernatural powers, but slowly transforms them into inhuman monsters.  Since you play as members of a family — parents, children, aunts and uncles, grandparents and cousins — the game is packed with relationships that your characters value, but did not choose for themselves. The rules support this part of play by giving you tools to create interesting problems that complicate these relationships, and reward you for exploring them during play.  I spent the last year running the game for different groups at conventions, and it is exciting to see the different ways that players interpret “family” as a game/story concept. It can be funny, poignant, and sometimes a little bit intense, but it always seems to ring true because family is a common denominator for pretty much everyone.

A broken-down cemetery depicted in black and white linework.

How do the rules work to connect and structure the family, and complicate those relationships?

Family is defined in the rules on several levels.  First, during character creation, players collaborate to answer questions about their progenitor, their ancestor who brought the curse upon the family.  Their answers shape the current standing of the family, as well as what resources the family shares. Second, players define for themselves what family roles they want their characters to fulfill — parent, child, aunt, grandparent, etc.  It’s up to the players how their family is structured in terms of age, gender, and identity. 

Lastly, each player will choose a Skeleton for their character.  Skeletons are complications that strain a character’s relationship with another character.  This could be a dark secret that will harm the other character, a past mistake they want to reconcile, or an unequal relationship such as a need for approval or being overprotective. Each Skeleton has “bones” — scenes or events that might happen during play that players are rewarded for pursuing.  As a story arc comes to an end, players decide if their Skeletons have been resolved positively, which improves the family’s standing, or negatively, which hurts the family.

Family drama can be difficult for some players! How do you provide support for play to help ensure everyone has a safe experience?

Safety tools are really important, especially with an emotionally charged subject like family relationships. The rules include a section on safety tools, which we introduce upfront.  We recommend that players make use of Lines and Veils, as defined by Ron Edwards of Sex and Sorcery fame, as well as an X-card/O-card at the table.  References to learn more about these tools are included.

A black and white illustration showing woman in a long dress shining a light toward the mantle of a very fancy fireplace in a ornate household.

What are the general activities of The Curse of the House of Rookwood – what do player characters encounter in play (such as monsters or situations), and how do they interact with it mechanically?

It depends on the Campaign Concept your group selects. You could be secret agents for the British Crown, employed to contain or eliminate supernatural threats.  You might play as high society dilettantes, plying your talents as supernatural communicators and hunters. Or you might even play a traveling troupe of entertainers, looking for your next gig.  Regardless what situation you place your family in, the core loop of play is trouble presented by the chronicler — a mystery, an adversary, and outright monstrous threat — and the family’s response to that threat.

Each family member has a finite amount of resources available to them to move the story in the direction they want.  They have Traits, which are a pool of six-sided dice, and Assets, which can be spent to gain some immediate guaranteed success, or to gain extra dice when a Trait roll goes wrong.  Like many rpgs, the game proceeds as a conversation. 

When the outcome of what a player wants to accomplish seems uncertain, the GM and the player work out a list of Risks, things that could go wrong, and Rewards, things that could go right.  The player chooses how many dice to roll from their pool — 1, 2, or 3 — and Assets to spend.  Any dice that roll 4 or higher count as a success, which are used one-for-one to cancel Risks or buy Rewards. 

Where it gets interesting is that the number of dice you roll reflects the amount of effort your character is putting forth in the fiction of the game.  One die is normal effort.  Two dice is extraordinary effort — if you roll any doubles, the effort is stressful and you lose a die from your pool.  Three dice is supernatural effort — you must call forth the gift of your curse.  If you roll doubles, not only do you lose a die, you also gain a new Mark of your curse.

A black and white illustration of a skeleton in a cloak covering their body with their back reflected behind them.

The descent into monstrosity could reflect any number of fears in metaphor. How is it represented in the game mechanically and narratively, and what does it mean to the characters?

As alluded to above, every time you use the power granted to you by your curse — calling forth crows to act as spies, wrapping shadows about you to conceal your movement, suffocating a foe with a billowing mist — you risk gaining a Mark of your curse.  Marks are outward, physical signs of your curse, but could also have an emotional or psychological element.  For instance, if you have the Curse of the Rookery, your Marks could be amber eyes of a crow, black feathers instead of hair, literal crow’s feet, or an uncontrollable urge to steal shiny things. Each character can gain a limited number of Marks.

Mechanically, Marks function as a story timer.  The last Mark on your character sheet is always “Lost to the Curse”. Using your power can give you a lot of narrative control over the story, but the more you use it, the closer you come to being completely lost. At that point, the character is gone from the story — transformed into a statue, a hideous bird monster hidden by the family in the attic, or lost in an endless void of shadows. 

Characters might struggle with identity as their bodies transform against their will, feel dread about suffering the same fate as a lost ancestor with a similar curse, or leave troubled relationships unresolved when they are lost. It’s tragic stuff. And though a character’s fate might be out of their control, it’s important to note that the player does have control over their story.  They choose their Skeleton and their Curse upfront, and they choose how the Marks of their curse manifest.

An image of the book for The Curse of the House of Rookwood in black and grey with very stylized block serif text and a cameo with a skeleton in clothes and with hair on the cover.

Thanks so much to Mike for the interview! I hope you all enjoyed it and that you’ll check out The Curse of the House of Rookwood on Kickstarter today!