In Ruins Is A Clever Tabletop Game About Making (And Then Breaking) The Dungeon Of Your Dreams

The normal experience of playing a roleplaying game is sitting down with your friends, rolling up some characters, and adventuring in some place. It might be a keep or a haunted fishing village or the local 7-Eleven that’s so cursed you wouldn’t believe it. In Ruins gives players the opportunity to create dungeons rather than simply exploring them. It’s an elaborate ruleset for making a place, aging it centuries, and populating it with little weirdos that some players later on might come to discover. It rules.
In Ruins doesn’t ask much of players. You can play it solo or with up to six players, although I think it probably works best in the two to four range. To play it, you do need a real “gamer’s toolkit” of stuff that games like this often demand: a few six-sided dice, a deck of playing cards, some tokens, and some paper. The play of the game is using these different objects to generate, draw, and populate a castle that will, over the course of the game, turn into a ruin. This is a fun thing to do, I promise.
The game went quickly when I played it solo, and I imagine that it would also go pretty fast with a few friends. You start by making a castle. You answer some lore questions about it—What is the land called? What is the castle’s name? Who are its neighbors?—and then you start with the actual building. Each player draws cards from the deck, and from that, they build three rooms. There are some specific, fiddly mechanics here but just know that you’re making rooms and you’re putting cool stuff in there. This is really and truly just gamifying the work of creating any kind of interior space for your own TTRPG, which is probably an experience that anyone who has run one of these games is familiar with. The novelty (and the restrictions) that emerge based on the cards are what give this real intrigue—you sort of just end up making the castle you can rather than the castle you might necessarily want.
Then it all goes to hell. You come up with some ways that the castle gets wrecked. Other people invade. Earthquake. Wizard from space. While you get to make up the exact shape and narrative of these events, they’re all supported by a kind of inverted building process in which you’re dealt hands of degrees of ruin and then you choose how to apply them to the castle. Want to make sure the kitchen you built and wrote cool lore for is preserved for all time? Guess you need to have the library burn when demons crept out of the basement when the stablehand dug too deep in his free time. Whoops!