Jason Morningstar

Although the rules don’t require this, I started facilitating the Setup this way and it is now standard practice at my table:

During the Setup, we define Relationships first, and *then* Needs, Locations and Objects.

I find this speeds Setup and gives a relationship-based focus on those other elements that is very helpful to making a coherent situation poised for interesting disaster.

Tsuro is an effortlessly light game but it gets old fast. Here’s a variant we use to perk things up:

Designate one or two wormholes using tokens at the edges of the broad. Any tile placed that would normally cause a player to fly off the board instead instantly transports them to the other opening of the wormhole. One pair is enough to make things interesting, and two is probably a reasonable limit. If you are a jaded Tsuro player, experimenting with wormholes can add a new … dimension … to the game.

One necessary additional rule: Making an infinite loop causes the loss of your piece!

My good friend Crystal, upon first playing this game, said “wait a minute – all people have different values, and there are red, yellow, black and white people? This game is an extended metaphor about race and class!”

Now whenever I play I can’t help but think “Oh man, that island has nothing but white people on it” and “Of course the rich guys all get priority”…

Not sure what the green and blue guys represent, though…

This is a silly variant but offers some surprising tactical depth.

You need a big bag of zombie figures, or tokens to represent zombies.

When an infantry unit (not armor or artillery) is eliminated, immediately replace it with a four-zombie unit.

Zombie units have their own “turn” immediately after the Axis turn. All zombie units move one hex per turn toward the nearest non-zombie unit. If more than one unit is equidistant, determine which they approach randomly. Zombies are indiscriminate eaters.

If a zombie unit ends its movement adjacent to any non-zombie unit, they attack. A zombie unit battles with as many dice as it has figures. This makes a new horde very dangerous.

Zombie units are battled as though they were infantry, and do not re-spawn when eliminated. They do not count toward victory conditions.

In play this variant creates large numbers of fairly dangerous hordes that must either be avoided (reducing tactical choices) or fought (wasting resources). Both sides suffer equally. It’s pretty fun.

If you are a member of the Resistance, it is in your best interest to communicate as much as possible. Even if the spies don’t out themselves verbally, you can be alert for tells, as their answers and behavior may not quite gel. The trick to communication in The Resistance is to balance the proven benefits with the danger of over-selling yourself and breeding unwarranted suspicion. Of course, if you are a spy, this is a clever double-tricky strategy. Anyone talking *too* much is a spy – but that’s what a spy would want you to think…

I travel with a Fiasco kit, so I’m ready to throw down a game at a moment’s notice. You can, too! Here’s what you need:

* A one inch binder, preferably with pockets and a clear cover you can slip a letter-sized page into (maybe one that says FIASCO on it?)

* A pencil bag with zippered pocket, containing ten white dice and ten black dice, some index cards (about 20/session), and sharpies.

* Playsets! Print out your favorites, 3-hole punch them, and put them in the notebook.

* A play mat, preferably laminated. I find this really useful as a visual aid when explaining the game, and throughout for corralling dice.

* Finally, a copy of Fiasco tucked into an inside pocket.

Once you have a kit like this, you are ready to play anywhere, at any time. Ask your friends to select a playset, pull it out of the binder, and you are good to go.

Here’s a simple thing you can do to spice up a big group. Divide into two play groups and make the two simultaneous games reference each other.

Choose a shared Playset before breaking into groups. Then, as you build out the Setup, periodically check in with each other and grab Elements from the other table’s developing situation to inform the background of your own. Don’t get too concrete, but let little details cross over—have two characters at different tables be from the same family, note the important Locations and make sure you visit them, let rumors of the neighboring Fiasco percolate through your own.

If your table has a police chase through town, call over and let the other table know. This might be the creative contribution they need to have the jail unattended, or a store clerk distracted as the chase rolls by. Maybe they’ll return the favor by having your suburban housewife awakened by gunshots at 3 AM…

It takes a deft hand, but when it works it’s very satisfying.

In my experience, wide-open GMless play tends to run silly the first time out – this is even discussed in Universalis, which was written before the Civil War. Once you’ve seen how it works and what authority you have, repeated play tends to get more subtle and refined if your tastes run that way.

So if you’ve only played once, or are new to the format, that silliness may be an artifact of its newness – silly is easy and safe, and when you’ve got a lot of new stuff to think about, easy and safe are welcome.

Don’t be afraid to be intentional – a few words at the top tends to stop this, if what the whole table is after is something particular. Poll the table, see what the mood is, and then ask people to choose elements that will reinforce that. If you want violent and ugly, choose things that point in that direction. If you want melancholy, same. It isn’t a guarantee but it can help set the tone a lot.