These things are true

In most tabletop roleplaying games the rules of the game work against the narrative by breaking immersion or disrupting the pacing of the game. While it is not always a bad thing, rolling dice is only fun because of the randomness. It’s good to look to a game that perfectly nails this topic: Ten Candles by Stephen Dewey

10 Candles is a tragic horror game, its *tragic* because at the end of the game when the last remaining candle flame dies out so do the characters. You are essentially roleplaying the final moments of your character, because of this ten candles can only be played in one-shot format. This twist makes the game very unique and different from the roleplaying games people are used to playing.

The world is dark

What I specifically love about this system is that with other games, the rules tend to break immersion and get people out of the flow of the game. I never get this feeling with Ten Candles. The setting works perfectly: The world went dark 10 days ago, 5 days ago they came. This immediately sets the mood for the game without tying you to a specific idea of the others. The fact that the idea of what they are can be totally different every time you play makes the game surprisingly replayable.

The mechanics work as follows: there is a dice pool equal to the number of lit candles, the GM has a dice pool equal to the amount of doused candles. Whoever rolls the highest number of sixes gets narration rights, if you roll a one those are set aside for the current scene. If you roll no sixes the scene ends and a candle is doused. The rules go deeper than that: you can also receive a hope dice, douse a candle to ensure narration rights or burn your vices or virtues to reroll all ones you rolled.

Setting aside the ones makes it so it slowly becomes more likely for the scene to end and for the story to progress. The “establishing truths” phase between scenes is the most fun part of the game since you get to make up truths about the story. You could use this to find some flashlights you needed, establish details about the environment or even give the others unique traits. The final truth will always end with “and we are alive” and the number of truths is also equal to the number of lit candles.

And we are alive

In the end, ten candles stands out as a masterpiece in blending mechanics with narrative intent. Every element of the game, from the dice pool to the literal extinguishing of candles reinforces its themes of inevitable loss and fleeting hope. Where most tabletop systems struggle to balance storytelling and structure, Ten Candles turns its mechanics into the very heartbeat of the story, ensuring that every roll, every truth, and every fading flame pulls players deeper into the experience. It’s a rare example of a game where the rules don’t just support the narrative but are the narrative.