Ordinarily when I blog about some
weird Victorian nugget, I write about its history, folklore and occult connections. While we have some of that
today; I thought it would be more fun and helpful to come up with excuses to
make players solve tangrams puzzles. Last week, I introduced tangrams and why they make
such a great handout for a role-playing game. Here are a bunch of adventure
ideas ready for the Gamemaster to hand out the tans (the seven pieces of a tangram).
Adventure ideas
A secret club uses tangrams to
keep out the uninitiated. Anyone entering must arrange a tangram into
the shape known only to the clubs members. If they finish on the first try the
doorman welcomes them in, otherwise the he bars the door.
A magician enchants stationary to
hide messages. He writes his letter and cuts the paper into the seven tans. The
pieces appear blank except for a number corresponding with a puzzle from a
tangram book. The recipient receives their letter and looks up the puzzle. Once
they arrange the pieces in the right formation the message appears.
A tangram puzzle could be the
lock on a specially made safe. Arrange the tan’s into the right combination and
the safe opens. If the safe is enchanted, different shapes could open on
different contents.
Tangrams are not the only kind of dissection
puzzle. An old manuscript credited to Archimedes lays out the Ostomachio, which
roughly translates as “Bone Fight”. The Ostomachio is a square
made of 14 pieces, similar to tangrams. Instead of paper, the Greeks made their
puzzles of bone. So the ancient Greeks had a geometric puzzle called “Bone
Fight” with pieces made from real bones. Do whatever you want with that.
In Victoriana, Heaven and Hell
clash in a war of Chaos and Order. In this war the straight lines and geometric
shapes of dissection puzzles could have a much greater significance than mortal
amusements.
Tangrams quickly spread across the globe from
China in five short years. The hobby flared up like a plague
in France, England, Germany and Denmark. Do tangram enthusiasts suffer from a viral
compulsion to shuffle the tans around into new shapes? Does obsessive knowledge
wait just under all those right angles dying to get out?
The plethora of possible shapes makes tangrams a possible source of coded communication. A woman sits in the park
working on a tangram puzzle every afternoon. Some people walk by without a
glance, but if you know what to look for, her tans code out secret messages for
a covert group.
While most enthusiasts cut their
tangrams out of paper, some could afford more polished products for
their hobby. Tangram sets were made of glass, wood, silk, or ivory. The wealthy
bought more expensive tangram kitsch, such as dishware and even furniture. In
the 1840s, Chinese carpenters made a set of interlocking tables shaped like
tans. They could be arranged like any tangram puzzle.
For the sake of making up
adventures and building mysteries, anything can be a tangram set: floorboards, bricks, stained glass,
children’s blocks, decorative panels, floor tiles, roof shingles, a cracked
sidewalk, etc. etc.
A mysterious publisher sells
books of tangram puzzles sinisterly designed to open the reader’s perception to
new geometrical ideas. As they solve harder and harder puzzles, the solver’s
mind learns new ways to combine everyday shapes and to find the gaps in reality.