A Game of Romance and Ruin: Why This Indie TTRPG Is Ruining My Friendships (In a Good Way)

A Game of Romance and Ruin: Why This Indie TTRPG Is Ruining My Friendships (In a Good Way)

I’m going to be honest with you. Most tabletop games about "romance" are either weirdly clinical or just plain awkward. They try to gamify feelings in a way that feels like doing a math problem while someone stares at you expectantly. But then I stumbled across A Game of Romance and Ruin, and honestly? It’s different. It’s messy. It’s loud. It’s exactly what happens when you take Jane Austen’s polite society and smash it into a high-stakes gambling hall where everyone is lying to each other.

It’s a game. But it’s also a disaster.

The first time I played, I thought I’d be the hero. You know, the dashing lead who wins the heart of the socialite and saves the family estate. Ten minutes in, I’d lost half my fortune on a bad bet and was desperately trying to convince the local Earl that I wasn't actually the person who set fire to the gazebo. I wasn't winning. I was barely surviving. That’s the magic of it.

What is A Game of Romance and Ruin?

Basically, it’s a narrative-driven tabletop roleplaying game (TTRPG) that focuses on the intersection of social standing, romantic tension, and inevitable catastrophe. Created by independent designers, it leans heavily into "Powered by the Apocalypse" (PbtA) or similar "Forced to Choose" mechanics, though it has its own unique flavor of chaos. You aren't just rolling dice to see if you hit a goblin. You’re rolling to see if your confession of love makes you look like a visionary or a total creep.

The stakes are high. Not "the world is ending" high, but "I will never be invited to a garden party again" high.

Why the "Ruin" part matters

Most games focus on the "Romance" bit. They want you to get the girl or the guy. But in A Game of Romance and Ruin, the "Ruin" is actually the more interesting mechanic. It tracks your descent. As you fail rolls or make socially questionable choices, your Ruin meter ticks up. If it hits the limit, you're out. You're disgraced. You're the person people whisper about behind their fans.

I’ve seen players lean into the ruin. It’s tempting. There’s a certain freedom in being the person with nothing left to lose.


The Mechanics of Heartbreak and Debt

The game doesn't use a standard d20 system. Instead, it relies on small pools of dice or 2d6 mechanics that prioritize the story over the math. If you've played Brindlewood Bay or Monsterhearts, you’ll recognize the DNA here. But here’s the kicker: the moves are designed to put you in a corner.

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Take the "Desperate Plea" move. If you roll well, you get what you want, but at a cost to your reputation. If you roll poorly? Well, you get what you want, but the person you love now realizes you’re a manipulative liar.

It’s brutal.

One of the coolest features is the "Debt" system. You can trade favors for influence. In one session, I traded a "Dark Secret" about my character’s past just to get an invitation to a hunting lodge. I thought I was being clever. Turns out, the person I gave that secret to was the very person I was trying to impress. By the end of the night, I wasn't just broke; I was effectively exiled.

Character Archetypes

You don't have "Fighters" or "Mages." You have archetypes like:

  • The Fallen Grace: Someone who used to have it all but lost it to a scandal.
  • The Upstart: New money, no manners, and a lot of confidence.
  • The Wallflower: Someone who sees everything but is never seen.
  • The Rakish Rogue: Self-explanatory, really. They’re here for a good time, not a long time.

Each one has a "Ruin Move." This is a powerful ability that grants you a massive advantage but pushes you closer to social death. It’s like a "limit break" for drama.

The Social Strategy: Why It Isn't Just About Flirting

People hear "romance game" and they think it’s all about the dating sim vibe. It isn't. A Game of Romance and Ruin is actually a game of resource management. Your resources just happen to be "Reputation," "Favor," and "Self-Control."

If you spend all your Reputation trying to woo a specific NPC, you might find yourself unable to defend your family name when a rival starts spreading rumors. It’s a balancing act. You have to decide: do I want to be happy, or do I want to be powerful? Because in this game, you rarely get to be both.

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I remember a specific session where a player—let’s call him Dave—spent three hours trying to marry into a wealthy family. He did everything right. He played the "Perfect Gentleman." But because he ignored the "Ruin" brewing in his own house, his sister ended up eloping with a stablehand, causing a scandal so large it nullified his marriage contract. He ended the game with a beautiful wedding ring and absolutely zero houses to put it in.

That’s the core experience. It’s a tragedy masquerading as a comedy of manners.

Setting the Scene

Most people play this in a Regency-era setting, something like Bridgerton but with more sharp edges. But the rules are flexible. I’ve seen people run it in a sci-fi setting, where the "Ruin" is literal atmospheric collapse, or in a Victorian gothic horror setting.

The setting doesn't matter as much as the pressure. You need a society that has rules. Without rules, there’s no thrill in breaking them.

The Game Master's Role

In this game, the GM (or Narrator) isn't your enemy. They’re more like a malicious gossip columnist. Their job is to take the things you love and put them in danger. If you tell the GM that your character cares about their younger brother, you can bet that brother is going to get into some serious gambling debt by the next scene.

It’s collaborative storytelling at its most stressful.

Common Misconceptions

  1. "It’s just for girls." Honestly, this is the silliest take. Some of the most cutthroat, intense players I’ve seen are guys who normally play barbarian warriors. There is something deeply satisfying about "combat" that involves words and social positioning instead of swords.
  2. "It’s too complicated." It’s actually simpler than D&D. You don't need to track weight limits or spell slots. You just need to track who hates you and who you owe money to.
  3. "You have to be good at acting." Nope. You just have to be willing to make bad decisions. In fact, the worse you are at "winning," the better the game usually is.

How to Get Started with Your First Game

If you're looking to jump into A Game of Romance and Ruin, don't just buy the book and hope for the best. You need the right group. This isn't a game for people who want to "win" in the traditional sense. You need players who are okay with their characters suffering.

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First, pick a theme. Are you doing a high-society ball? A gritty industrial revolution drama? A magical academy? Establish the "rules" of your society before you even make characters.

Second, define your "Ruin." What does failure look like? Is it prison? Is it exile? Is it just being ignored?

Third, lean into the drama. Don't play safe. If you have the choice between a safe conversation and a risky confrontation, choose the confrontation. Every single time.

The game rewards boldness, even if that boldness leads to your character’s ultimate downfall. It’s better to go out in a blaze of glory—or a scandalous public break-up—than to fade away quietly in the background.

Actionable Steps for Your First Session

  1. The Safety Talk: Because this game involves romance and social pressure, use safety tools like the X-Card or Lines and Veils. Make sure everyone is comfortable with the level of "drama" or "ruin" being explored.
  2. The "Rumor Mill" Setup: Before the game starts, have every player write down one rumor about another player’s character. Don't tell them if it's true or not. Let the GM use these as hooks.
  3. Focus on the "Why": When you make a move, tell the table why your character is doing it. Are they acting out of love? Spite? Desperation?
  4. Embrace the 7-9: In PbtA-style games, the 7-9 roll (a partial success) is where the best story happens. Don't be disappointed if you don't get a "10+." A partial success means you got what you wanted, but the world got more complicated.
  5. Limit the Cast: Don't have 50 NPCs. Focus on 3-5 core "Social Rivals" or "Love Interests." It makes the betrayals hurt more when you actually know the person doing the betraying.

At the end of the day, A Game of Romance and Ruin is a reminder that the most dangerous monsters aren't in dungeons. They’re in the drawing rooms, wearing silk gloves and holding glasses of champagne.

Grab a copy of the rules, find a group of friends who don't mind a little emotional turmoil, and start making mistakes. It’s the most fun you’ll ever have losing everything. Just make sure you have a backup plan for when that "Ruin" meter finally hits its limit. You’re going to need it.


Next Steps:

  • Audit your group: Ensure you have players who value narrative over "winning."
  • Download a "Cheat Sheet": Most PbtA games have one-page reference guides for moves; keep these handy to maintain the game's fast pace.
  • Set the atmosphere: Small touches like music or lighting change how social interactions feel at the table.