Pulls and collapse
Managing pulls
Early in the game
Chain pulls on low-stakes actions. The players are cocky, the tower slowly thins out, and they burn through their safety margin without even realizing it.
"Sure, go ahead, pull away, it's super easy... Oh boy, you guys are going to breeze through this scenario...!"
When the tension hits
Every move becomes an ordeal. This is the moment the game is designed to reach: the fear of acting, and the fear of staying still. You know you HAVE to do something, but everything terrifies you.
Pressure on pulls
"Unlike you, Marc, Elodie doesn't know how to pick a lock... And besides, she's afraid of the dark, right? So you're going to pull three times... Are you sure about this?"
That's enough to change the looks around the table. You go from fun to visceral stress.
The GM NEVER pulls
Never. The tower is the players' fate. The GM puts opposition on it -- that's all.
Managing the collapse
The fall does not equal instant death
The tower collapsing is the player's narrative "end." But not necessarily instant death. Much like in a horror movie: when you see a guy being chased by the killer, you know he's done for -- the tension is already winding down. He's done for narratively. Not right away, necessarily, but inevitably.
The "undetermined state" technique
The "eliminated" character is not dead -- or not exactly -- but knows NOTHING AT ALL about what is happening to them. The other players know even less.
- The player can still speak, suffer, rave, beg.
- With each attempted action, drop hints: "Are you sure you want to do that?", "Do the others know what you're trying to do?"
- Their pulls are always unfavorable (2-3 blocks), fail, or backfire.
- They only serve to make the tower tremble and create discomfort.
- The others wonder: "Is she dead? Is she hallucinating? Is she going to kill us?"
The goal: make it so the player whose character is "out of the game" still wants to keep playing, and the group wants them to stay. It's a powerful new psychological lever: guilt, sacrifice, hope, and collective pressure.
Rebuilding the tower
It's not a "mechanical reset" -- it's a narrative break that happens when someone has just died or a major event has struck.
Tips:
- Don't rebuild it neatly: leave the base a bit wobbly, remove a few blocks in advance "to symbolize the fragility of the world."
- Offer the eliminated player more actions in exchange for removing extra blocks.
- Make it feel like something has changed: lights flicker, sounds draw closer, characters are wounded or divided.
- Let the memory of the fall linger, as AMBIGUOUSLY AS POSSIBLE. The players saw what it looks like. Even a fresh tower should tremble -- in their heads.
"Come on, Philaire, you put the blocks back all crooked at the bottom, that's not fair!" -- "Sure, and? You're absolutely free to rearrange the tower, you know -- want to pull?" -- "Uh..."
Accessibility: the "pass card"
Any player who struggles with the tower has the right, a certain number of times (or every time, depending on the table), to ask another player to pull in their place. No justification needed, no conditions.
This is completely in the spirit of the game: it actually strengthens the group dynamic.
Dread is built on tension, not on dexterity.