Troika has inspired tons of small zines, mostly dedicated to introducing new backgrounds (often parodying recognizable pop culture characters). I didn’t own any third-party Troika products that matched the size and scope of Melsonian Art Council’s official books until recently, with Bridgetown (2023), from Technical Grimoire. It’s a hardcover book, thoughtfully sized the same as Melsonian’s publications and delightfully illustrated by Skull Boi and Charlie Ferguson Avery. I must admit, Skull Boi’s map is what immediately hooked me. Just pure, colorful, mysterious delight.

So, the bridge is a self-contained world unto itself. It doesn’t connect to anything but more bridge. It is populated by the expected (trolls, goat people), the curious (stone people and coblins — you read that right, coblins) and the more prosaic (human varietals). Much of the bridge is falling apart, everything is hungry, resources are scarce and factions galore try to bleed everyone who isn’t them dry. Beyond the requisite backgrounds, most of the book is dedicated to describing districts and gatehouses of the bridge. They all embody a bit of bedlam in their own way.

There’s one made of candy and one where inhabitants have dug mines out of the support pillars. There’s one that is built up around the impact site of a meteor and there are whole sections of bridge given over to peculiar wildernesses. All of these spaces are perfectly explorable on their own merits, but Bridgetown has a framing scenario, or, I guess, introductory scenario, that is the real deal main event. The players are saddled with a magic cauldron. There are a few plot hooks for it, but the main function of the cauldron is to cook with it. And in order to cook, one needs ingredients. And boy, this cauldron will take anything. I can’t stress enough how refreshing it is to have a motivation like this completely untethered from combat or wealth acquisition to fuel play. “What kind of soup can we make today?” is the best adventure prompt!