Musgrove Mysteries - The Law of Play
Designing a world where the government replaced violence with games.
A Quiet City of Arguments
Musgrove Mysteries: The Books that Bind is set in Rodentia, a post–Great War dieselpunk city run by a single rule: no violence allowed.
Its citizens — tall, furred hybrids of mice, cats, and hounds — live under the watch of Vigilant Coils: anti-aggression devices mounted on every lamppost. Any physical act of harm triggers an instant electric discharge. The Coils ended riots, but not resentment.
To keep tempers contained, the government introduced a legal replacement — Disputes.
When two citizens clash, a Coil projects an official minigame.
Win, lose, record the result, move on.
The city calls it order. Everyone else calls it survival with manners.
Design in a Regulated World
This mechanic shapes every system in Musgrove Mysteries.
You don’t fight; you play to progress.
You’re Murdoch Musgrove, a struggling writer dragged into a noir-flavoured treasure hunt for his stolen first editions. Every confrontation — from mafia henchmen to petty bureaucrats — unfolds through a sanctioned Dispute.
Each minigame doubles as both gameplay and personality test:
Liar’s Dice for deceit and risk (pirates, Treasure Island).
Darts for precision and pride (Robin Hood).
Scrolling Music for rhythm and control (20,000 Leagues).
Boules for unity and patience (The Three Musketeers).
World Logic
The Coils let Rodentia function as a lawful machine.
They project games instantly, monitor scores, and file the outcome in state records. There are no crowds, no cheers — just the faint hum of current and a bureaucratic confirmation tone when a dispute ends.
That small detail gave the game its tone: civilised repression.
The player’s victories aren’t violent, but they still carry danger — reputation, information, and trust are all at stake.
Crafting the Tools
Each Dispute has its own set of customisable equipment: modular darts, weighted boules, dice with swappable faces, scrolls with adjustable tempo. These are both upgrade paths and personal statements.
You don’t buy power — you tune expression.
The way you build your tools says as much about you as how you play.