Three of Six
A TiGGR Scenario About Paperwork, Identity, and the Limits of Administrative Competence
Players: 2–5 | Playtime: 30–45 minutes | Components: 2d6, pencil, paper | Requires the TiGGR core rules
THE PREMISE
You are not Number 6. Neither is he. Neither is she. And yet, according to the paperwork, all three of them are.
The Village is your home. It has always functioned with a quiet, horrible precision—every resident numbered, filed, tracked, known. The system does not make mistakes. The system cannot make mistakes, because admitting a mistake would mean the system has seams, and the system cannot have seams.
This morning, three different people were each assigned the number 6, given the same bungalow key, and told to report to the Green Dome. None of them know about the other two. Yet.
You are still the villagers. You still just want to get through the week. But now, instead of one volatile newcomer kicking the anthill, there are three of them—and they are also kicking each other. The Administration is in full crisis mode, which means it is doing what institutions always do under pressure: generating paperwork, issuing contradictory directives, and insisting that everything is fine.
This is not a scenario about escape. It is not a scenario about identity. It is a scenario about what happens when a system that cannot be fallible fails—and what that failure costs the people who live inside it.
Ask Yourselves: "What would happen in a Marx Brothers film set inside a Kafka story?"
TOUCHSTONE
The Prisoner (ITV, 1967–68) meets the Spider-Man pointing meme. Also: The Comedy of Errors, bureaucratic farce, and anyone who has ever been told "our records show" something that is demonstrably wrong.
You do not need to have seen the show to play. The premise is self-sufficient: a beautiful, surveilled village you cannot leave, three newcomers who each think they are the only real prisoner, and an administration that would rather bend reality than admit a clerical error.
SCENE & GOAL
Setting
The Village. Same as always. Manicured lawns, pastel buildings, relentless pleasantness. Mountains, sea, no exit. Except this morning something is different. There are three of them. The PA system has made the same announcement three times, each slightly different. A bungalow door has been opened and closed by three different keys. The café is serving breakfast to three people who each believe they are sitting alone.
Key locations: the Town Hall (underground control room beneath), the Green Dome (Number 2's residence), the hospital, the general stores, the band stand, the chess lawn, the café, the old people's home, the lighthouse, the beach, the graveyard, cliffs and caves.
Goal
Survive the chaos. Three Number 6's means triple the escape attempts, triple the paranoia, triple the collateral disruption—and an Administration so procedurally overwhelmed that its attempts to fix the situation keep making it worse. Your routines are disrupted, your spaces are contested, and everyone keeps asking you which Number 6 you were talking to.
Each player begins the scenario with a routine privilege, as in Be Seeing You. The difference is that this time, your privileges are not being deliberately revoked as leverage. They are being accidentally disrupted by administrative overload—misfiled schedules, double-booked appointments, contradictory permissions. The effect is the same. The cause is funnier.
FACTIONS
The Administration
Body 0 | Mind 2 | Charm 1 | HP 5 "This Is a Routine Matter": +1 Charm when denying that anything is wrong
Number 2 has been told to resolve the situation quietly. Number 2 cannot resolve the situation quietly. Number 2 is sweating. The apparatus—surveillance, Rover, the hospital, the control room—still functions, but it keeps targeting the wrong Six, filing reports under the wrong number, and issuing corrections that contradict previous corrections. The system is not broken. The system cannot be broken. The system is visibly broken.
Number 6-A (The Angry One)
Body 2 | Mind 0 | Charm 1 | HP 5 "I Demand to See Number 1": +1 Body when making a scene
Classic defiant rebel. Loud, physical, conspicuous. Convinced the other two are psychological warfare. Will pick fights, flip tables, and deliver speeches. Every escape attempt involves force. Every interaction creates a blast radius.
Number 6-B (The Clever One)
Body 0 | Mind 2 | Charm 1 | HP 5 "I've Already Figured This Out": +1 Mind when manipulating systems
Quiet, calculating, trying to exploit the confusion to access the control room. Convinced they are the only real operative and the other two are plants. Will hack, infiltrate, and scheme. Occasionally correct about the Village's workings, which makes them more dangerous, not less.
Number 6-C (The Charming One)
Body 1 | Mind 0 | Charm 2 | HP 5 "Let's All Just Talk About This": +1 Charm when playing factions against each other
Social, persuasive, building alliances. Convinced they can talk their way out. Keeps accidentally recruiting the same villagers the other two are trying to recruit. Their escape plan is a social movement, which makes it the most disruptive of all.
The Watchers
Body 1 | Mind 1 | Charm 1 | HP 3 "Which Six?": +1 Mind when reporting, but only if they can correctly identify which Number 6 they are reporting on
Their reports are becoming increasingly confused. Some have started filing three separate reports per incident. Others have stopped filing altogether. The Administration is not pleased with either approach.
SCENARIO-SPECIFIC RULES
The Memo
At the start of each scene, the GM reads aloud a brief official Village announcement attempting to address the situation without acknowledging it. These should escalate in absurdity while maintaining bureaucratic composure. A set of prepared memos is provided at the end of this scenario; the GM should also feel free to improvise.
The system will not admit seams, even if it has them. Especially if it has them.
Which Six?
Whenever a Number 6 causes a disruption, roll 1d6. On 1–2, the Administration blames 6-A. On 3–4, 6-B. On 5–6, 6-C. On any result, there is a 50/50 chance they also blame a player character who happened to be nearby. If the same Number 6 is blamed twice in a row, the Administration becomes suspicious of the pattern rather than the person—and launches an investigation into why the pattern exists, which generates further paperwork and further disruption.
The bureaucracy must assign responsibility. It does not require accuracy.
Mistaken Identity
Once per scene, a player may be confused for one of the Number 6's by an NPC. This can be a disaster or an opportunity. The player chooses: correct the mistake (Charm 6), or ride it out (Mind 8 to maintain the performance). Riding it out successfully grants a temporary privilege—access, information, deference—that lasts until the end of the scene. But the GM logs the misidentification. It will appear in a file. Files do not forget, even when they are wrong.
Confusion is opportunity—until it collapses.
Administrative Correction
Once per scene, the Administration "fixes" something. The GM changes one established fact—a location assignment, a schedule, an identity, a privilege. The correction is delivered with complete institutional confidence. It contradicts something previously established. It creates a new problem. Fixing the system increases entropy.
Standard Difficulties
Routine (6): Navigating daily patterns, avoiding all three Sixes, explaining who you were talking to.
Confusion (8): Exploiting misidentification, lying to interviewers who aren't sure what the truth is, redirecting blame toward the right (or wrong) Six.
Exposure (10): Acting in ways that draw the attention of all three Sixes and the Administration simultaneously—the worst possible outcome in a system that is already overwhelmed.
THE THREE SCENES
Scene 1: "There Must Be Some Mistake" (The Setup)
The Memo: "Residents are reminded that number assignments are final and non-transferable. The Village thanks you for your cooperation."
The three 6's each independently show up at the same bungalow. Then the café. Then the Green Dome. None of them acknowledge the others as real—each assumes the other two are a test, a trick, or a hallucination. The Administration is attempting to keep them separated while pretending nothing is wrong.
Players are caught in the crossfire. 6-A is loudly confronting staff at the general stores. 6-B is quietly asking the Clerk probing questions about filing systems. 6-C has already befriended two villagers and is organizing a "welcome committee" that is clearly something else. Meanwhile, one player's routine privilege has been accidentally reassigned to Number 6—but which one?
Hooks:
- 6-A causes a scene at the café that draws a crowd. (Body 8 to extract yourself; Charm 6 to redirect the scene away from you.)
- 6-B asks a player to confirm something about the Town Hall's filing procedures. The question is innocuous. The implications are not. (Mind 8 to recognize what they're really asking; Charm 8 to give an answer that satisfies without revealing.)
- 6-C invites a player to an "informal gathering" at the band stand. Half the guest list is Watchers. (Charm 6 to decline gracefully; Mind 8 to figure out who else was invited.)
- Two of the Sixes encounter each other for the first time. The ensuing confrontation happens near a player's workplace. (Body 6 to get out of the way; Charm 8 to de-escalate without appearing to take sides.)
Scene 2: "The Situation Is Under Control" (The Escalation)
The Memo: "The Village wishes to clarify that there has been no administrative irregularity. Residents who believe they have witnessed an irregularity are invited to submit Form 6-R (Perception Discrepancy Report) to the Bureau of Resident Satisfaction, third floor, Town Hall. The Bureau is currently closed for renovation."
It is not under control. Each Number 6 has launched a different scheme. 6-A is building a raft on the beach. 6-B has partially accessed the control room's outer systems. 6-C is holding a public meeting at the band stand that is drawing uncomfortable numbers. All three schemes intersect with the players' routines.
Number 2 has started conducting interviews to determine which 6 is "real." This means asking villagers who they think the real one is—a question with no safe answer and considerable entertainment value. Worse, the Administration has begun issuing reassignment notices mid-scene, moving villagers to different shifts, different locations, different schedules, in an attempt to separate the Sixes' social networks. Your privileges are being shuffled, not revoked—which feels less like punishment and more like being caught in someone else's filing error.
Hooks:
- Your interview at the Town Hall asks you to identify the "real" Number 6 from three photographs. All three photographs are slightly different. (Mind 8 to notice the differences; Charm 8 to give an answer that doesn't commit you.)
- 6-B offers a player access to a partial file from the control room. The file contains evidence that the duplication was a clerical error—mismatched timestamps, duplicate paperwork. (Mind 6 to read it; Charm 8 to decide what to do with it.)
- 6-C's public meeting is gaining traction. A Watcher asks a player to attend and report back. (Charm 6 to agree without meaning it; Mind 8 to attend and actually gather useful intelligence.)
- A player is issued a reassignment notice that moves their shift to the same time as their routine privilege. The notice is signed, stamped, and contradicts a notice issued that morning. (Mind 6 to spot the contradiction; Charm 8 to get someone to fix it without attracting attention.)
Scene 3: "Will the Real Number 6 Please Stand Up" (The Climax)
The Memo: "All residents numbered six are requested to report to the Green Dome. Individually. At different times. Which will be communicated. Shortly. The Village thanks residents for their patience during this routine administrative review. Tea service will continue as scheduled."
All three escape attempts trigger simultaneously. 6-A's raft launch has drawn Rover to the beach. 6-B's control room infiltration has triggered security alarms. 6-C's social movement has produced a crowd at the band stand that the Administration cannot disperse without making the situation worse. The Village's systems cannot handle three concurrent crises. Rover keeps bouncing between targets. The control room is filing conflicting alerts. Number 2 has locked themselves in the Green Dome.
In the chaos, the players discover something unsettling: there is evidence in both directions. Mismatched files and duplicate timestamps suggest a genuine clerical error. But identical dossiers and a file labeled "REDUNDANCY PROTOCOL" suggest it was intentional—a stress test, or a new method. The Village will never confirm either way, because confirming would require admitting the system has seams.
And through it all, the tea service continues flawlessly. Every cup at the right temperature, every blend correct, every schedule honored. One subsystem works perfectly while everything else fails. That contrast always lands.
Hooks:
- Rover is on the beach, the alarms are sounding, and a crowd is forming at the band stand. A player must choose which crisis to avoid. (Body 8 to navigate the chaos; Mind 6 to identify the safest route.)
- A player finds the "REDUNDANCY PROTOCOL" file in the control room during the confusion. It is either proof of conspiracy or proof of bureaucratic contingency planning. Both readings are supported. Neither is confirmed. (Mind 8 to read it before someone notices; Charm 6 to pretend you were never there.)
- 6-C makes a public appeal that directly names a player as a supporter. This is not true, but several Watchers heard it. (Charm 10 to deny it convincingly in public; Mind 8 to find 6-C and shut them down privately.)
- Two of the Sixes finally confront each other directly. Each demands that a player confirm their identity. (Charm 8 to answer without answering; Body 8 to leave before the confrontation escalates.)
- The crisis ends. Not with a resolution, but with an Administrative Correction so large it rewrites the morning. One of the three Sixes is "transferred." The other two are told, separately, that they are the real one and the situation has been resolved. A new memo announces that numbering irregularities have never occurred. A player's routine privilege is restored. The tea is still perfect.
PLAYER CHARACTERS
Use the same characters from Be Seeing You—the Shopkeeper, the Gardener, the Nurse, the Entertainer, the Clerk. They are the same villagers, living through a different kind of crisis.
The Clerk is especially useful in this scenario. Their ability to notice contradictions in official records is no longer a subtle tool—it is a survival skill in an environment where official records are actively contradicting themselves.
During setup, each player names one other player character and describes a small, observable routine they share, as in Be Seeing You. In this scenario, those bonds will be tested not by the pressure to inform, but by the chaos of being shuffled, reassigned, and accidentally separated by an Administration that is rearranging the furniture to hide the stain.
GM GUIDANCE
Tone
Be Seeing You is Kafka at a holiday camp. This scenario is Kafka at a holiday camp where the filing system has crashed and no one will admit it.
The core tension is not dread—it is exasperation layered over dread. The Village is still oppressive. The surveillance is still real. Rover is still terrifying. But now the apparatus is also bumbling, and the bumbling is producing its own kind of harm. The players are not being carefully manipulated. They are being carelessly disrupted—which is, in its own way, worse.
Lean into the comedy, but never let the players forget that the comedy has teeth. A misidentification is funny until it appears in a file. A contradictory memo is absurd until it cancels your hospital appointment. The system's incompetence is not liberation. It is a different kind of danger.
Playing the Three Sixes
Give each one a consistent energy. 6-A is always the loudest person in the room. 6-B is always asking questions that seem harmless. 6-C is always making friends. They should create overlapping demands on the players—all three want attention, alliance, and assistance, and their requests will conflict.
The key is that they never cooperate with each other. Each is convinced the other two are fakes. This means the players are the only ones who can see the full picture—which makes them valuable and vulnerable at the same time.
Playing Number 2
Number 2 in this scenario is not sinister. Number 2 is drowning. Play them as a middle manager in crisis—competent enough to know things are bad, not empowered enough to fix them, and absolutely determined to produce paperwork that makes it look like things are fine. Their interviews with villagers are not interrogations. They are desperate fishing expeditions by someone who has lost control and is trying to get it back through procedure.
Let the Players Exploit the Confusion
This scenario becomes alive when players realize they can hide behind the duplication, redirect blame, and launder their own actions through the wrong Six. Mistaken Identity is the key rule here—every misidentification is a door that opens both ways. Encourage players to ride the chaos rather than just endure it. But always log the consequences. Confusion is credit. It comes due later.
The Tea Service
Make sure at least one Village system works perfectly throughout the entire scenario. The tea service is the suggested default, but it could be anything—the brass band playing on schedule, the lawn being mowed at exactly 9 AM, the morning newspaper arriving without fail. The point is contrast. When everything else is falling apart, the fact that one routine persists flawlessly is either reassuring or deeply unsettling, depending on how much the players are paying attention.
THE MEMOS
A prepared set of escalating Village announcements for the GM to read at the start of each scene—or whenever the chaos needs an official response. Use these as written, adapt them, or improvise your own. The tone should always be: calm, bureaucratic, and visibly straining.
Scene 1 Memos
"Residents are reminded that number assignments are final and non-transferable. The Village thanks you for your cooperation."
"A minor scheduling adjustment has been made to bungalow allocations in the East Quarter. This is routine. Residents are not required to take any action."
Scene 2 Memos
"The Village wishes to clarify that there has been no administrative irregularity. Residents who believe they have witnessed an irregularity are invited to submit Form 6-R (Perception Discrepancy Report) to the Bureau of Resident Satisfaction, third floor, Town Hall. The Bureau is currently closed for renovation."
"Residents are reminded that duplicate numbering is both impossible and a violation of Village regulations."
"The Department of Resident Classification has been temporarily merged with the Department of Resident Satisfaction. Both departments will continue to operate independently from the same office. Residents should address all inquiries to whichever department they believe is appropriate."
Scene 3 Memos
"All residents numbered six are requested to report to the Green Dome. Individually. At different times. Which will be communicated. Shortly."
"The Village thanks residents for their patience during this routine administrative review. Tea service will continue as scheduled."
"In response to resident inquiries: no, there is not a 'situation.' There has never been a 'situation.' The word 'situation' is not recognized by Village Administration. Residents are advised to enjoy the afternoon."
"CORRECTION: The previous announcement should have read 'all residents' rather than 'all residents numbered six.' The Village regrets any confusion this may have caused, and wishes to emphasize that no confusion has occurred."
WHAT THIS SCENARIO EXAMINES
Be Seeing You asks what it costs to live inside a system that functions too well. Three of Six asks what happens when that system fails—and refuses to admit it.
The answer, from the villagers' perspective, is the same both times: they absorb the consequences. Whether the Village is running smoothly or falling apart, the people who live inside it are the ones who accommodate, adapt, and endure. The system does not need to function correctly to maintain control. It just needs to insist that it is functioning correctly. The gap between those two things is where the players live.
The comedy is real. The farce is genuine. But underneath it, the same question persists: what does it mean to navigate a system that cannot acknowledge its own errors, staffed by people who cannot admit what they see, maintained by routines that continue regardless?
The tea is always perfect. Everything else is negotiable.
THREE OF SIX is a scenario for TiGGR: Tiny Game for Generalized Roleplaying, created by The Grey Ledger Society. Visit greyledger.org and hotelkilo.itch.io. This scenario is released under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0. Use it, hack it, share it. Just credit the original and keep the same spirit of openness.