Upcoming Events
Ribhian Games runs demo events at conventions and community venues across New England. New to the 2d10 system — or just looking for a great game? Come find us.
BHS Gaming Club
📍 Bristol Historical Society · 1 Richmond Pl, Bristol, CT 06010
Unmatched Board Game — Open Play
Unmatched · Open Play · Beginners WelcomeDrop in for open Unmatched play — all skill levels welcome. Bring your own characters or borrow from the table. For more information on Unmatched, visit Restoration Games.
White Box — Dungeon Crawl
White Box · OSRIn this old school dungeon crawl, delve into a mine overrun with monsters, investigate the ancient ruins within, and get out alive — if you can. A dungeon crawl for 4–6 players using the White Box OSR rules with premade characters. THAC0 not required!
Worthwhile Reads
📍 1 Richmond Pl, Bristol, CT 06010 · Bristol Historical Society
Open Gaming Night
Community Event · Open GamingDrop in and play. Ribhian Games will be on hand with demo tables, rulebooks, and open seats. Whether you're a veteran of the table or picking up dice for the first time, come see what the Heptaverse is about.
HiJinx Gaming Convention
📍 Lebanon, New Hampshire
A King, A Church & a Bell
Tendrils in the Fog · Victorian Gothic HorrorThe girl began having fits on a Thursday. The town records it as supernatural affliction. The Congregational minister records it as divine warning against the ungodly. The pale gentleman who visited her household the week prior records nothing at all, because he does not appear to keep records, and his name appears in no parish register, no civic ledger, and no listing of theological students at any institution yet contacted.
Merilla Norton is seventeen years old and has been suffering violent convulsions for three weeks. She speaks in tongues. She accuses her aunt of riding her like a horse to Albany, where she claims to have witnessed rites that the Congregational Church of New Cambridge, Connecticut is extremely motivated to describe as satanic and extremely motivated not to examine too closely. The aunt is a woman of good reputation, regular attendance, and no enemies to speak of except the ones she appears to have acquired without knowing it. The exorcism is scheduled for three days hence. The town considers the matter essentially settled.
It is not settled.
A ministry student named Mr. King arrived in New Cambridge six weeks ago. He has been visiting Trinity Episcopal Church, whose leadership has not held established authority since the War and is understood by everyone in the county to want it back. He has been visiting the Norton household. He has been attending evening gatherings in the Episcopal bell tower that no one who has attended will describe, and three prominent Congregationalist families have quietly transferred their membership in the past month. The bells have been ringing at hours no sexton will account for. The frequencies make teeth ache. The fog moves toward certain houses rather than past them.
Mr. King is not what he appears. This is not a difficult conclusion to reach. It is a conclusion that everyone with authority in New Cambridge has decided, collectively and without consultation, not to reach.
The Episcopal Church wants the exorcism to proceed. The Congregational Church wants the exorcism to proceed. The town magistrate wants the matter resolved quietly before Hartford takes an interest. An innocent woman is in chains. A girl who may be victim, accomplice, or both is performing affliction for audiences that have stopped asking whether the performance is real. And somewhere in the bell tower of Trinity Episcopal, in the brass fittings and retuned bells and geometric fixtures that do not belong in any Connecticut church built in 1754, something is nearly ready.
The fog does not move randomly. The brass remembers frequencies that no living instrument teacher in New England taught. There is a journal in a nightstand drawer that was written by a girl who expected to be the most interesting person in this story and is only now beginning to understand that she is not. There are letters between a reverend and a foundry family that describe a transaction in terms neither party has been willing to clarify, and the payment recorded is not in currency.
Each of you received a summons. The language is official, the compensation specific, the urgency unmistakable. What the summons does not explain is why the town clerk addressed each letter differently — as though he knew, or had been told, exactly what kind of reader each of you would be.
Pre-generated characters provided. New players welcome.
Fate & Fortune
Heroes of Ribhus: Legacy · D&D 5E (2014) VariantIt started with a ride at an amusement park. That was two years ago. Since then there have been dragons, dungeons, a one-horned baby unicorn, and a sorcerer in black armor who seems to take their continued existence as a personal insult.
The Dungeon Master says there is a mirror on the road ahead. He says mirrors show you what is — but this one shows you what could be. He says to pay attention to the wagon.
He doesn't say anything else. He never does.
The wagon belongs to a fortune teller who has been parked at the bend in the road for two days, waiting. Her cards know things they shouldn't. She has a reading for each of you — personal, specific, and just vague enough to be infuriating. The mirror is real. The portal home is real. But the girl who guards it has been alone for three years, and opening the door means putting her in the dark so you can walk into the light.
Venger knows about the mirror. He's been trying to destroy it for eleven years. When he arrives at the Wayshrine — and he will arrive — he won't just bring soldiers. He'll bring an argument. And the worst part is that some of it will make sense.
Fate and Fortune is presented as a loving homage to the 1983 Dungeons & Dragons animated cartoon series — Saturday morning heroes, impossible choices, and a Dungeon Master who helps without helping. Grab your Weapon of Power. The road home is right there. You just have to decide what you're willing to pay for it.
Pre-generated character sheets provided. New players welcome. ©Ribhian Games LLC 2025. All Rights Reserved.
Hallowed Hymns
Madness & Dust · Weird WestThe frontier town of Resurrection Creek has gone silent. No telegrams, no travelers, no word for three weeks — just rumors of beautiful singing echoing across the prairie at night.
When you're hired to investigate, you find a town still breathing but no longer alive. Hollow-eyed residents stand motionless, facing a church that glows with golden light. Inside, the Choir of the Ascending Harmonics has succeeded in their greatest ritual: opening a passage to what they believed was Heaven.
But what answered their hymns is something far more terrible — a cosmic predator that has learned to wear divinity like an ill-fitting coat. It feeds on their faith while reality crystallizes and fractures around them. The cult's leader realizes too late that his flock is being consumed, but breaking the binding may kill everyone still under the entity's thrall.
Can you solve the mystery of the harmonic reversal before the crystallization spreads beyond the church? Will you negotiate with a broken heretic seeking redemption, or cut through his congregation to reach the thing wearing Heaven's face? And when you finally confront the Radiant Shepherd, will you be able to tell the difference between salvation and predation?
Pre-generated characters provided. New players welcome. Bring dice and courage.
ShireCon 2026
📍 Veterans of Foreign Wars · 104 S Canaan Rd, Canaan, CT 06018
Something Wicked This Way Flexes
All Star Wrestlers Investigate · Mystery ComedyThe ghost of Gorgeous Giuseppe Caruso has been spotted in the Hall of Mirrors three nights running, and the owner of Carnaval Grande is out of options. The carnies won't go near the east midway after dark. The funhouse operator handed in his keys and his dignity on the same afternoon. The charity match is still on — the crowd paid for tickets, the ring is already assembled, and nobody has told the concession stands to stop making nachos — but the headliners haven't shown up, the co-headliners are refusing to leave the van, and the owner is standing at the gate with his hat in his hands and a very specific look on his face.
That look is your problem now.
Gorgeous Giuseppe Caruso died in this Hall of Mirrors in 1987. Chair shot, dark match, nobody in the stands, and the story got better every time someone told it. Silver sequins. A temper like a third-act heel turn. A finishing move he called the Venetian Vendetta that no referee ever officially sanctioned. The ghost, according to three separate witnesses who do not know each other and have no reason to lie, is wearing the sequins. It is using the Venetian Vendetta. It wants everyone off its midway.
It is not a ghost. You know it is not a ghost. The mirrors have been rearranged by someone who understood their angles. The fuse box on the east side was pulled by someone who knew which breaker controlled the lights and which one controlled the emergency exits. The carnie who quit first — the one who won't give his name and is currently eating a corn dog in the parking lot with the look of a man who has been specifically and personally threatened — he didn't see a ghost. He saw something, and it knew his name, and it told him to leave before the headliners arrived.
That last part is the part that matters. It knew you were coming. It has a reason to want you gone before you start asking questions. Somewhere in the Hall of Mirrors, between the rearranged panels and the pulled fuses and the cotton candy smell that has no business being that strong on the east side of the grounds, there is a person with a plan and a timeline, and your charity match starts in four hours.
The trap is going to require a folding chair, at least one person willing to be fired out of the Human Cannonball rig on purpose, and somebody who can cut a convincing promo to a ghost who already knows you're not afraid of it.
The crowd is in the stands. The nachos are ready. Gorgeous Giuseppe Caruso is waiting in the Hall of Mirrors. Nobody messes with the midway on your watch.
Pre-generated characters provided. New players welcome. No prior wrestling knowledge required, but it helps.
Fate & Fortune
Heroes of Ribhus: Legacy · D&D 5E (2014) VariantIt started with a ride at an amusement park. That was two years ago. Since then there have been dragons, dungeons, a one-horned baby unicorn, and a sorcerer in black armor who seems to take their continued existence as a personal insult.
The Dungeon Master says there is a mirror on the road ahead. He says mirrors show you what is — but this one shows you what could be. He says to pay attention to the wagon.
He doesn't say anything else. He never does.
The wagon belongs to a fortune teller who has been parked at the bend in the road for two days, waiting. Her cards know things they shouldn't. She has a reading for each of you — personal, specific, and just vague enough to be infuriating. The mirror is real. The portal home is real. But the girl who guards it has been alone for three years, and opening the door means putting her in the dark so you can walk into the light.
Venger knows about the mirror. He's been trying to destroy it for eleven years. When he arrives at the Wayshrine — and he will arrive — he won't just bring soldiers. He'll bring an argument. And the worst part is that some of it will make sense.
Fate and Fortune is presented as a loving homage to the 1983 Dungeons & Dragons animated cartoon series — Saturday morning heroes, impossible choices, and a Dungeon Master who helps without helping. Grab your Weapon of Power. The road home is right there. You just have to decide what you're willing to pay for it.
Pre-generated character sheets provided. New players welcome. ©Ribhian Games LLC 2025. All Rights Reserved.
ArcaneCon Gaming Convention
📍 33 Hawley St, Northampton, MA
A Book, A Candle and a Kobold
Chronicles of Ribhus · High FantasyThe market town of Farwall has been protected for two generations by an old warding ritual — a leather-bound grimoire and a silver bell, used together at dawn, keeping the humanoid clans of the Thornback Hills at uneasy distance. Six months ago, both objects were stolen. Since then, the raids have grown bolder, tunnels have appeared beneath the wall, and the sound of the bell has been heard at night from the hills — ringing wrong.
When the party tracks the stolen ritual objects to a Kobold lair carved into the Thornback Hills, they discover something far more troubling than simple theft. A young Kobold sorcerer of black dragon bloodline has spent six months studying the ward's mechanics — and has nearly mastered an inversion that won't just break Farwall's defences. It will open the town like a wound. His acolytes are already at the ritual. The bell is already ringing. The countdown has already started.
But Vexikrath the Acidtongue is not what you expected from a monster. He is educated, precise, and operating from a grievance that is — if you stop long enough to hear it — not entirely without merit. The lair his cult occupies was built by his ancestors before Farwall existed. The ward that protects the town has been killing his people for sixty years.
Can you navigate the Riddled Warren's traps and puzzles before the ritual completes? Will you fight through Vexikrath's theological soldiers — Kobolds who are not the creatures of old stories, but something stranger and more dangerous — to reach him in time? And when you finally stand across the dais from the Acidtongue, will you be able to tell the difference between a villain and someone who simply ran out of better options?
Pre-generated characters provided. New players welcome.
The Last Stone Singing
Blood & Stone · Pictish Iron AgeThe Wind-Speaker Stone at Dun Caer has gone silent. Three days ago it was singing — carrying voices across the confederation's eastern frontier the way it has for four generations. Now there is nothing. The druids call it a bad omen. The Chieftain calls it your problem.
When the party rides east to investigate, they find a village that has learned to keep its doors shut and its eyes down, a stone circle with its central monolith broken into three pieces by iron tools, and boot prints that came from the wrong direction entirely. Someone targeted this site with precision. Someone knew exactly which stone to break and which cuts to make to sever the network rather than simply damage it.
The someone is a monk named Brother Aldric — educated, sincere, and entirely convinced that the confederation's sacred circles are chains keeping a people from something better. He followed a dream to this place. He followed it precisely. He is already gone when you arrive, moving east toward the next site on a map he carries in his robe.
That map is the problem. Not the monk. Not the warband of thirty swords he hired to give him time to work. The map has seven circles marked on it in a sequence, and Dun Caer is only the first.
You can catch him. You can take the map. You can probably even stop him — if you are willing to decide what stopping him means when the man across from you is not a monster, just someone who dreamed a sequence he did not write and followed it faithfully into someone else's catastrophe.
What you cannot do is answer the question the Stone-Touched among you will be asking quietly, on the long ride home, after the map is recovered and the stone is still broken and the network is still wrong in ways that have nothing to do with Aldric: who gave him the dream?
Pre-generated characters provided. New players welcome.
Dire Consequences Gaming Convention
📍 Bristol Historical Society · 98 Summer St, Bristol, CT
All Star Wrestlers Investigate: Something This Way Flexes
All Star Wrestlers Investigate · Mystery ComedyThe ghost of Gorgeous Giuseppe Caruso has been spotted in the Hall of Mirrors three nights running, and the owner of Carnaval Grande is out of options. The carnies won't go near the east midway after dark. The funhouse operator handed in his keys and his dignity on the same afternoon. The charity match is still on — the crowd paid for tickets, the ring is already assembled, and nobody has told the concession stands to stop making nachos — but the headliners haven't shown up, the co-headliners are refusing to leave the van, and the owner is standing at the gate with his hat in his hands and a very specific look on his face.
That look is your problem now.
Gorgeous Giuseppe Caruso died in this Hall of Mirrors in 1987. Chair shot, dark match, nobody in the stands, and the story got better every time someone told it. Silver sequins. A temper like a third-act heel turn. A finishing move he called the Venetian Vendetta that no referee ever officially sanctioned. The ghost, according to three separate witnesses who do not know each other and have no reason to lie, is wearing the sequins. It is using the Venetian Vendetta. It wants everyone off its midway.
It is not a ghost. You know it is not a ghost. The mirrors have been rearranged by someone who understood their angles. The fuse box on the east side was pulled by someone who knew which breaker controlled the lights and which one controlled the emergency exits. The carnie who quit first — the one who won't give his name and is currently eating a corn dog in the parking lot with the look of a man who has been specifically and personally threatened — he didn't see a ghost. He saw something, and it knew his name, and it told him to leave before the headliners arrived.
That last part is the part that matters. It knew you were coming. It has a reason to want you gone before you start asking questions. Somewhere in the Hall of Mirrors, between the rearranged panels and the pulled fuses and the cotton candy smell that has no business being that strong on the east side of the grounds, there is a person with a plan and a timeline, and your charity match starts in four hours.
The trap is going to require a folding chair, at least one person willing to be fired out of the Human Cannonball rig on purpose, and somebody who can cut a convincing promo to a ghost who already knows you're not afraid of it.
The crowd is in the stands. The nachos are ready. Gorgeous Giuseppe Caruso is waiting in the Hall of Mirrors. Nobody messes with the midway on your watch.
Pre-generated characters provided. New players welcome. No prior wrestling knowledge required, but it helps.
Unmatched Boardgame Tournament
Unmatched · Board Game TournamentSwiss Style format — everyone plays at least 4 matches (assuming 16 participants). No elimination!
Match Resolution: If the 45-minute timer expires, the player with the highest remaining HP is awarded the win. Sidekicks are not part of that calculation. If both characters have the exact same HP when time is called, the match results in a draw.
Scoring: Win: 1.0 point · Draw: 0.5 points · Loss: 0.0 points
Character Restrictions: No Mirror Matches — players cannot play the same character against each other (the only exception is if it happens naturally during the final round). No homebrew characters allowed. Bring your own characters if you have them!
The list of legally available official characters will be posted soon. The tournament winner will receive a prize TBD.
The Surgeon's Testament
Velvet & Iron · StandaloneThe physician died on a Tuesday. The household records it as natural causes. The local Ordinary records it as a peaceful departure in a state of grace. The three men who searched his study the following morning record nothing at all, because they are not supposed to have been there.
Doctor Aldric Vosse served the Carvetti household for eleven years as physician, archivist, and — in a capacity neither party officially acknowledged — consultant to the Holy Office on questions of medical evidence. The kind that arise when a claimed miracle requires a body examined by someone who understands what natural causes actually look like. He was careful. He was discreet. He was, by every account, the kind of man who kept records of everything and showed them to no one.
He left sealed letters. Not one — several, each delivered by a different hand on the same morning, each written in a different register for a different kind of reader. Each one addressed to you. The letters say he left something. They do not say what. They were written by a man who expected them to be opened by someone else first, and who wanted even that someone else to be uncertain what they meant.
The Holy Office has opened a formal inquiry into certain miraculous healings submitted to Rome eight months ago. The family sponsoring the canonization has retained additional legal counsel and stopped receiving visitors. A Jesuit operating out of the college has been attending the notary's office with unusual frequency and filing nothing. What Vosse documented — evidence sufficient to halt a canonization, embarrass a great house, and expose a network operating entirely outside Roman oversight — is something three institutions now want quietly, which means they do not yet know the others are also looking.
They will know soon.
His study smells of camphor, old leather, and something underneath both that a physician would recognize and a careful physician would not put in a report. There are gaps in his patient registry that are too precise to be accidental. There is a cipher in his commonplace book that does not belong to him. There is a name that should appear in a notarized document and does not, and the absence has been smoothed over with exactly the kind of care that makes an absence visible to anyone who knows what fullness looks like.
He knew each of you differently. The letters make that clear. Whether that is coincidence or the most deliberate thing he ever did is one of the questions you will need to answer before someone with more authority and less scruple answers it for you.
Pre-generated characters provided. No prior setting knowledge required.
The Feast of Restless Sands
Heroes of Ribhus: Legacy · D&D 5E (2014) VariantThe nomadic clans of the Sands of Blood gather each year at the edge of the great desert for the Feast of the Remembered Dead — three days of fire, song, and offerings to those who crossed into the dunes and never came back. A wandering spirit-speaker called the Bonecaller arrived last month on a trading ship, and the clans have come to trust him. He honors their dead. He knows their names. He seems like a gift.
Then the windstorm came. An ancient crypt the clans call The Mouth That Should Stay Shut has been torn open by the sand, and now the dead inside are not staying put. The Bonecaller has offered to help seal it.
Something is very wrong.
Sail from the Port of Windsor along the southern coast to Blood Bay, where the feast fires are burning and the clan elders are beginning to ask questions about their new holy man that they probably should have asked a month ago. Whatever sleeps in that crypt, the Bonecaller did not come all this way to put it back to rest.
A Heroes of Ribhus: Legacy 4-hour one-shot event. Bring your regular characters!