The MIT Assassins' Guild

To err is human...
To forgive is not our policy.

Scheduled Games (Fall 2017)


First and Third Saturday of the month, 8-11:00pm, 36-115

Travel to strange new classrooms. Meet interesting, unusual people, and kill them! Patrol is a high-action game of live combat with rubber-dart guns. Shoot your friends, then watch out as they try to take their revenge.

Wretched Hive of Scum and Villainy

Weekend of September 23rd
GMs: Ariel Segall, Brian Sniffen, and Charles Leiserson Jr.

It is the end of an age. The old Galactic Republic is falling, and no one is sure what will replace it. The head of the Galactic Senate has taken personal control of the military, and is beginning to solidify his power base on the many outer planets. Even now the troops are landing.

Tatooine has always been a haven for the less savory side of society. Smugglers, bounty hunters, and slavers ply their trades freely under the watchful rule of the local Hutt crime lords. Due to these uncertain times, the spaceport has gained an additional influx of refugees, spies, and other folks who keep their business to themselves.

It is evening in the Cantina, and a sandstorm has confined everyone inside....

Do You Want to Write a Ten-Day? (Workshop)

Weekend of September 30th
GMs: Ariel Segall, Victoria Longe

Traditionally, the Assassins' Guild runs a ten-day LARP during IAP. There may be a gap this IAP, though, and wouldn't it be wonderful to fill it? Would you like to help?

This is a short workshop for people who might be interested in ten-day writing. Attending does *not* imply commitment to writing a game for this IAP, although we're hoping to find some interested volunteers by the end. We'll work through a number of possible game ideas (we have some, and feel free to bring your own), do some collaborative exercises to take half-baked ideas and turn them into concrete game structures with plot and group ideas. and discuss ways that ten-day writing can be streamlined so that a game can be written in a few months without driving the GM team crazy. No prior game-writing experience is necessary.

Her Eternal Majesty's Privy Council for the Continual Funding of the Mad Arts and Sciences

Weekend of October 7th
GMs: Sam Dukhovni, Jakob Weisblat

The thirty-seven suns never set upon the planets of Her Eternal Majesty, Queen Victoria's Galactic Empire. On the planet of Bletchley, it is January 15th: the day of the annual meeting of the Privy Council.

The Privy Council is responsible for providing fiduciary patronage for projects of interest to the Empire. Planetary Govern0r Ethan Gibson Huxley IV has generously lent the use of a suite in his executive palace for the occasion. From across Bletchley, scientists, inventors, lunatics, and other notable and learned folk have gathered in the capitol to petition for allotments from the Privy Council.

There is surely no truth to the rumours that the Planetary Govern0r's clones have taken to warring amongst themselves, nor could they be plotting an insurrection against Her Eternal Majesty's lawful government. The gorilla sighted running across New Trafalgar Square last Thursday was surely an aberration. All is well and peaceful in Her Eternal Majesty's Galactic Empire.


Mad Science Funding Council is a mechanics-light ~2-hour horde LARP in the vein of Time Travel Review Board and City Council of Hound's Teeth. A small number of players will play a set of privy council members, and the rest will play a rotating cast of misfits, scientists, vagabonds and con artists who will come through requesting funding. The council's decisions may well determine the fate of the Galactic Empire. This game is set in the year 2500 in a far-future steampunk setting, where the Galactic Empire is ruled by the preserved brain of Her Imperial Majesty Queen Victoria.

Ghost Court

Weekend of October 14th
GMs: Xavid

What you are about to witness is real. The participants are not actors. They are the living people and ghosts who have already either filed suit or been served a summons to appear in municipal court. Both parties in the suit have agreed to dismiss their court cases and have their disputes settled here, in our forum:

Ghost Court.

Ghost Court is a ridiculous, casual, mechanics-free LARP about ghosts and the people who sue them. It's a published game by Jason Morningstar being run by Xavid.

Fall Guild Meeting

Weekend of October 21st
GMs: The High Council

The Guild's semesterly meeting. There will be free food, some policy discussions, and possibly some mastering.

So You Want to Be a GM

Weekend of October 21st
GMs: Ariel Segall

The Assassins' Guild runs on player-written games. Have you ever thought that *you* could write a game? Whether you've just played your very first game and are excited about this whole new roleplaying thing, or have played for years, you too can be a GM! But perhaps you don't know how to start, or don't want to without knowing what you might be getting yourself into.

So You Want to Be a GM is an seminar and optional workshop designed to teach new and inexperienced GMs key skills for writing (non-SIK) Guild games. There is no One Right Way to write a game, so we won't be teaching one, and since this is an overview class, we will only have a short time to talk about some very complicated topics. However, we aim to provide enough of a toolbox for novice GMs to feel comfortable writing even complicated and unusual games, and to know where to find more help if they want it.

Upton Manor

Weekend of November 4th
GMs: Alex Dehnert, James Hobin, Thomas Wohlers, Veronica Boyce

England, 1922.

At Upton Manor, home of the Earl of Moncreiff, the two branches of the family are poised to reconcile after a long and bitter feud. But when an unexpected death occurs, the mood quickly devolves from joy and merriment into suspicion and scheming, as blame is cast and everyone rushes to see how they can best turn the situation to their advantage, while still keeping up a proper facade of grief.

Upton Manor is a four hour game of intrigue, secrets, and romance, with a dash of murder thrown in. Though using the veneer of a murder mystery as a framing device, intrigue and character relationships take priority over the actual mystery, with most characters being far more interested in blaming their rivals or covering up any scandal than in actual investigation.

Content warnings: Drug, gambling, and other addictions, family rivalries which may involve murder, sexism, classism, infidelity, backstory involving torture (non-graphic). Please note this is a period piece and expectations of most of the characters regarding gender norms, sexuality, and class are fairly strict.

Oglaf: Cockmoon Rising

Weekend of November 11th
GMs: Van Chung, Sam Dukhovni, Mehitabel Glenhaber

Once in a hundred years, the Cockmoon rises in the sky, bringing with it powerful and mysterious energies. Where its light shines, curses may be cast or lifted, rare potion components may be found, and dicks are sometimes mysteriously transformed into bees. Now, in the last hours of the Cockmoon, the residents of the village are gathered in the town square to tie up their personal affairs before the Cockmoon vanishes once more.

*Oglaf: Cockmoon Rising* (written by Van Chung, Sam Dukhovni, and Mehitabel Glenhaber) is a very silly game featuring ridiculous magic and implausible absurdist sex. It is a 1-hour Triple Blind style LARP loosely based on the webcomic Oglaf (no experience with Oglaf is required to play)

(Basically every character in this game will have plots involving ridiculous absurd sex mechanics, and due to the random nature of character assignments it will be hard for us to do specific casting. Sex won't be particularly graphic or anything, but if large amounts of talking about sex makes you uncomfortable, this may not be the game for you)

Bad Apples

Weekend of December 2nd
GMs: Thomas Wohlers, Tom Didimuk, Alon Levy, and Sharone Horowit-Hendler

Rim Sector 057, System BD4863, Unlicensed Station 'Flotsam'

23.10.2622 CE:

Two tall men are entering my bar, waving pistols. I can tell who among my patrons is new here and who isn't by whether they've learned to hide how scared they are. I'm the only one who isn't scared, because by the time I register what's happening, they've already scanned the crowd and know who they're looking for. I do my best to ignore them. Hopefully they'll take him outside. He only realizes they're here when they're a few steps away from him.

"Johnny," one of them says.

John Kopacz is horrified. He should be. He deserves to be, for all that he's done to my other customers. He doesn't turn to face them. He's still facing me. Begging. As if I even have any power. "What is it now?"

The other one reaches for John's gun. John is closing his eyes and not resisting. I suppress a smile. I'm not here. I shouldn't act like I'm here. They put their hands on his shoulders and take him outside. As they leave, everyone in my bar sighs. It wasn't me, they're all thinking.

I think I hear the gunshot a few seconds later. It's not directly outside my bar -- there have been shootings and executions directly outside and they're a lot louder. Probably they took him to the unused maintenance bay two corridors over.

Some of my customers heard the shot, others either didn't or do a good job pretending. None of them is leaving, because all of them know that this isn't any less safe than anywhere else on Flotsam. At least here by the docks the executions are done by professionals and there are few turf war shootings. The docks are where the drugs are exported, so they're too important to accidentally shut down because some idiot wants to deal in five more apartment blocks. We civilians all know that we're not supposed to be targeted. We are all still afraid the assassins haven't heard that.

Another day goes by on Flotsam.

. . .

I try to shut the door, but he has his foot in it, and pushes it open.

"What," he growls, with breath that stinks of cheap booze and cigarettes (mine can't smell much better), "you think I was gone for good? Come on, babe, let me in."

This has happened before. I know how it plays out. It'll hurt, but I'm not scared for myself. Pain can be washed away, with drink, with drugs. A little more won't do me harm. It's my daughter I'm worried about. She shouldn't see this again. She's upstairs. She knows where I keep the gun.

He's in, now. I make the obligatory attempt to keep him away, telling him it's over. "You're no good for me, Andre, I don't want to see you again."

He hits me for this, of course. It hurts, but it focuses me. Not while my daughter is here. She shouldn't be a part of this world (but if I'm honest with myself, I know she is already). I make excuses. I tell him to come back a little later. Finally, he leaves. I breathe relief, he's gone for now, I can send my daughter away before he comes back, or get the pistol, or . . . I hear a crack from outside. A gunshot.

After a safe wait, I go outside to look. In a storage closet off a dimly lit side corridor I find Andre's body. Written above it, in his blood, are the words "he won't bother you again, ma'am." A cross is below them.

Even on Flotsam, angels guard our nights.

But Flotsam is the sort of place where an angel might fall.

Another night goes by on Flotsam.

. . .

Welcome to the space station they call Flotsam. You'll probably leave the place alive and with all your money on you -- probably. Technically, the entire place is an illegal squat, which means there's no law enforcement, and nothing in the way of social services. If you want justice for a crime, about the best you can do is either convince or pay a drug lord to execute the offender. The United League of Nations and Planets doesn't know about Flotsam, doesn't care, or is paid to look the other way; nobody is certain. But word on the street is that something happened to change that, and now the government is coming, to round up a few dissidents, shut everything down, or just get a bigger payoff, no one really knows exactly. But the people here have other problems, human problems -- trying to get your mom to quit this month's addiction, learning that your boyfriend is cheating on you (and with a man, at that), or where the hell to hide those dead bodies. What's one more complication to life in a place like this?

Bad Apples is a 3-4 hour game of murder, crime, intrigue, and family drama, set in a hard sci-fi setting. It's a game of flawed people in bad situations, desperately trying to make the best of things, and maybe be better than they are. Sometimes they succeed. They call those people heroes. More often, they don't. The words for those people aren't as kind. But the best among them keep trying anyways. These are their stories.

Bad Apples can be a very dark game, though also hopeful. A full list of content warnings will be found on the app, but If you have concerns, please don't hesitate to talk to us about them.

Slouching Towards Bedlam

Weekend of December 9th
GMs: Jesse Ashcraft-Johnson and Will Kalb

Bethlehem Royal Hospital has been your home and prison for the past few years. The rhythms of daily life in the madhouse have been maybe a comfort, or maybe a curse. Either way, you've grown accustomed to your incarceration here.

But recently, the asylum has been disturbed by strange happenings. Irregular rumblings in the basements, ethereal figures half-glimpsed in the corners of tired eyes, a hard-to-place miasma of uneasiness settling over the other inmates.

Even the staff seems perturbed, and their distraction has made it much easier for you to move freely through the asylum. Now may be your chance to make your move. All the plans and schemes you've concocted can finally be put into action. They don't understand. You're not crazy. You're the only one who isn't crazy!

Slouching Towards Bedlam is a game of insanity and madness. When everyone else is crazy, your own firm grip on reality is the only thing you have.

So. Tell me about your mother...