Voidheart Symphony is a game by Minerva McJanda published by Rowan, Rook and Decard. Financing of the game involved crowdfunding. Game material and content is reproduced here for review purposes and is owned by Minerva McJanda and Rowan, Rook and Decard.
1. Every Individual Component Is The Best
Ludo
Voidheart Symphony has a striking yet subtle layout design and art direction, giving it a strong character; it evokes the somber shadow of capitalism realism interrupted by splashes of hopeful saturated colours. The mind thinks about the stylish UI of the games that served as touchstones for this piece of art.
The book is easy to consult even mid-play, easy to ready, and important parts are given a lot of space to breathe and quick to identify. The play aids for this game show great care in approachability and accessibility; consider them not merchandise but as something that may help some people experience this game.
Without any major considerations from experiencing Voidheart Symphony at a superficial level, I would be remiss if I did not point out an unusual but remarkable experience. Voidheart Symphony’s publisher management of customs and shipment and quickly sending a replacement for some minor misprints of game accessories was outstanding and without hiccups; to those dependent on international shipping — especially those in the Global South that often get some “nice” surprises like custom fees 3x the price of the game on top of shipping because of mishandling of forms/inaccessible documentation, — this information may be something they consider useful before considering a physical copy of this game.
Brad
The aesthetic style of Voidheart is fantastic! It genuinely stood out at the table and on the screen, and it is not a simple matter of having fantastic art pieces and font choices. There are a variety of games on the market that have fantastic art and font choices, award-winning games that are deeply immersive but are hard to read, laid out in a way that is pleasing to the eye but ultimately very hard to use as an information delivery system. Voidheart avoids this, it keeps to its unique aesthetic without ever once sacrificing accessibility for aesthetic.
This is especially present in the player-facing aids, which gave my players a vibe for the game while simultaneously ensuring their confidence in the rules.
2. Meet The Game At The Level It Is At
Ludo
There is no avoiding the political nature of art, but this one is, by necessity, unapologetic political. The game is about challenging assumptions about what is even political in the eyes of the hegemon, of people not so much stepping up to fight but getting the tools to gain an edge.
If you believe the systems that exist are designed to resist change, that are tried-and-tested, almost spontaneous results from Enlightenment-spoiled ideas about “human nature” and Leviathanesque justifications for the current organization of society, No, if you believe in those fantasies, or others such as capitalism’s redemption arc, that hierarchies must possess some inherent value, expect those notions to be challenged over and over by this game.
The game is from the Legacy branch of Powered by the Apocalypse games, even it may be the most heterodox of Legacy games — crossing different design schools and tech to obtain an array of interlocking systems. Still, it maintains the same differences in tempo of Legacy games, different from the usual Conversation-Move chain of orthodox PbtA. We will go into further details on Part 2, as usual, but the game does an excellent job in establishing it terms and rules to pay special attention for; a valuable contribution, as PbtA veterans have often struggled with the different beats of Legacy games.
Brad
Voidheart is a game that is political, it is a game that is forward-thinking and not just in the type of campaign it helps you play, but in something vital. It is quick to explain itself, and that’s one of the things I quickly grew to love about it, as Ludo points out in the above, and the image directly above elucidates, Voidheart is patient with the reader and eager to point out the differences between similar games they may have played. If you run a game with a group that frequently changes systems as I do, that is a fantastic asset to have, and few games are willing to talk about what they do differently in such clear and concise terms.
3. Identify What The Game Says It Is About
Ludo
Voidheart Symphony does not let its message be diluted by the dance of marketing demanded of those that must peddle their art. You open the book and there it is, exactly what you do in this game and what you are going to experience if you take your time engaging in dialogue with this book.
The world is festering from a wound, its rot institualized and the oozing pus monetized.
You play characters that don’t have the luxury of pretending this is normal, acceptable or deny what is happening.
The psychopolitical nightmare of the colonization of human general intellect as it becomes the last frontier available to capitalism. It makes not only your lives a daily grind of misery — it is made manifest within as the Castle.
You navigate two worlds: The City, shaped by the same forces that shape your life1, or the Castle, neo-feudal domains of the soul of humanity. You are not confined to your struggles within the City; by venturing into the Castle and facing this manifestation of psychopower technologies, you get the power to change the world and overcome anti-social ills.
Brad
I love how openly Voidheart talks about itself, the author knew what they were doing and focused on how to get you on the same page.
4. Uncover What The Game Is REALLY About
Ludo
Voidheart Symphony is about activism fatigue.
You will go into the Castle and fight that benefit from the ruin of the world; that is the necessary buy-in for playing this game. That’s the premise. But you also buy-in into the most painful leftist truth: once you know that evil be and have seen its ripples across the world, you cannot unsee it; you may not avert your eyes from what needs to be done.
Imagine going through daily life, worried about renovation and visa interviews with the emigration office never over six months between them, bouncing between party meetings and organizing academic labor unionization, supporting your parents at distance through the longest drought in history that is risking their survival in old age or the ecological disaster done by lithium mining by Canada or Australia to where they grew up — a beautiful place that was a tourist Disneyland but you will never be able to live in. You get home from work, and before you make calls on how to support your kin, you find extreme-right vandalism was done to your neighbourhood and now you need to avoid getting the cops involved and still keep your bloc safe. You finally manage to take a break, relax before one last mail; your timeline is filled with some rich liberal pervert in the imperial core lecturing how a certain smiling smile is ableist and which ones you should use, and dear god this is 1/68. Before collapsing, you take to reading theory — for fun, your little time stolen for yourself.
The characters of Voidheart Symphony exist on these unlimited fronts, not so much burning on both ends in so much as candle flambé. No wonder those that can avoid to care do so eagerly. As a leftist, you often believe you must fight every fight, to care about everything at the same time; because of the Castle, it is specially easy for your characters to fall for this trap. They are the only ones that can do this, they cannot take a break!
Voidheart Symphony is aware of that crushing realization and makes it, well, real. You can go into the Castle; you know that. But can others? Why are you questioning, you don’t have the luxury to contemplate; the Vassals have no hesitation, they are right now rushing in to take the power for themselves.
You have to do this.
This resonates with secondary themes, reinforcing each other; quickly this game establishes redundant systems. The wound in the world represents institutional decay; even for the Vassals of the Castle, the world is not working as it should. The calcified centers of power can barely keep “business as usual” of capitalism marching on; they need the castle just as you — a symbolic recreation of the current collapse of post-commodity post production capitalism into whatever we are living through is, a “neofeudalism” will do as a placeholder for us cursed to live through historical events.
Through the Castle and this wound we get the power of the Void. The dream-like (nightmare?) nature of the Void blankets play with the impression that the whole game paints the Voids as “capitalism as a dreamer”; even in the City the player character are just shades of capitalism’s dream; it is Theirs, you just happen to live in it. This creates a very strong mechanical and thematic flow back and forth between the City/Castle, Vassal/Rebel and Void/World.
Brad
I (obviously, having read the same book) agree with Ludo above, but I also think there are the very obvious sub-themes of Community, where you literally get more powerful the more you connect with others who are not risking their actual existence fighting in the Castle but by fighting its real-world counterparts in many cases, these people form the keystone of your normal life and provide you with wondrous gifts inside the Castle.
The other theme that is uniquely reinforced within the mechanics is the concept of Counter-Revolution. The Castle reacts to you attacking it, and often strikes back just as hard as you did, seeking to punish you for daring to challenge it, and just as often this falls back on your allies or yourself. This can create a cycle of danger and weakness, that could, if not handled by bold and brave folk like yourself, leave vulnerable people in a worse position.