Burning Wheel: Succession of the Phoenix Crown, session zero, part one
Our GM warned us that session zero would take us two nights to get through--one night for burning a world and a ducal family within it, and the next for character creation. This was in addition to 29 pages of reading to prepare for sessions zero and zero point five, a commitment that I felt was ultimately not difficult at all to follow through with. My GM is very creative and very thoughtful with putting things in his games that are engineered for the kinds of gremlins we (the players) are, so it's never felt like work to prepare for his campaigns.
So, what is Succession of the Phoenix Crown? It's our Burning Wheel adventure about political competition that more or less started when I pitched the idea of "Regency Burning Wheel" after our group's first campaign resolved. We had been playing as adventurers poking around in a tower that was lousy with undead, and I was watching a lot of ACOFAF, so all things being equal I really wanted to get inside a proper castle with ballrooms and aristocrats. For some reason everyone loved this idea, so with bittersweet feelings we behind the intrigues that were evolving in our undead tower. That's just how it is sometimes. Campaigns are like clouds.
The campaign pitch (we're an aristocratic family tasked with putting someone of our choice on the throne in the wake of a power vacuum) gave us the opportunity to build our setting from the ground up. Our GM gave us choices from bullet lists and allowed us to extrapolate or suggest new details as we pleased. This was fun! Early on, our creative energy melded together really well. Most of us have spent a bit over a year gaming together at this point, so we're pretty comfortable communicating our ideas and thinking of things that will excite one another. I noticed, though, that as time wore on, it became necessary to shoot down each other's proposals for the sake of preventing scope creep or just because something plain old didn't fit. I'll be honest, it feels bad saying "No" to anything someone thinks is interesting. I found myself frequently wishing I had said it a different way, or been more accommodating, but it never happens that way in the moment. Is efficiency over joy worthwhile?
At one point I zoned out and didn't realize that another player had stuck our family's manor outside of town near a magical forest. Wait a second... the same forest you wish you were playing in, in your other BW campaign with the same GM? The forest with Elves you openly pine for? I realized she had executed something diabolical, and now I wonder if in future sessions she'll split the party to go parley with the Elves. More pressingly, I have to figure out if my ballroom party boy PC will be traveling to and from the city in which our conflict is taking place, or if he'll stay in town, and if it will even matter.
Part of the worldbuilding we included is a church that's known for being the place the royals visit to be publicly absolved of sins or misdeeds. We have dramatic cliffs and spindly stairways diving into a vast, silver sea. A feature I'm proudest of is a bridge supported by a massive sculpture of the hands of the ruler who usurped the city's leaders mere generations ago, with a massive stone bust to match of the usurper's head.
A note on vibes: That overthrower's descendant lies dying, necessitating the appointing of a new monarch. Our family has roots in this conflict--we were the first ones to abandon the falling house in favor of the usurping power. Betrayal! Drama!
Naturally, my friend who plays a sneaky type in every game is going to be the family poisoner. My other co player wants to incorporate epistolary elements and write letters for his obstacles. It's very sweet and creative and I'm looking forward to the incredible moments that will emerge from their ideas.
I should mention that this royal politics campaign is taking place within a broader super-setting that my GM has been concocting over time as we continue playing. This means that lore from group A's campaign will be relevant in ours. Some of us also now have characters in both groups. I'm jealous of how much more contextualized this setting will feel for them, but am also pleased that I get to be part of the new story.
In spite of the awkward presence of a cutting room floor, I have many things I'm looking forward to in this game, a sentiment that's been shared wholeheartedly by my GM and co-players. I feel like I have a handle on this game and deep connections with this table, and when I look back, I feel proud of myself for taking the time to try it again after playing BW once and wiping out in 2024. It has its quirks, but I enjoy playing it, and that's good enough for me for now.