9/11 In LittleBigPlanet?

I heard a rumor that someone had created a level in LittleBigPlanet that reenacts the bombing of the Twin Towers. Is this true? If it is, it represents a fascinating step in the growth and maturation of games as an art form and a medium of mainstream communication. Before, with contoversial game issues like Super Columbine Massacre RPG! and the infamous Hot Coffee mod in GTA San Andreas, the controversy could focus on authorship and the rights of creators (and in turn, the rights of consumers to refuse to consume, which was the core of Larry Flynt’s argument when Hustler Magazine went before the Supreme Court). But now the content is user-generated, and on a mainstream console. I am curious: will this turn into a big thing? Will it be different from people making similar things in open worlds like Second Life because it’s on the Playstation 3? Or will it just go away?

Crunch

I have heard it said that making 80% of a game is easy. It’s that last 20% that’ll kill you. I’ve been crunching all since Thursday on my thesis game, trying to get it live and still have enough time to analyze play and gather data for the paper before the quarter ends. After the grueling burn I’ve just endured, I have infinitely more respect for this 20%. Two weeks ago I was blase, optimistic, boasting I could finish it in a night if I applied myself. Now I see my folly. It was probably much harder for working on it alone — even my roommates were gone, so I was physically isolated as well as isolated by the work. Now I feel terrible… but so proud and eager that the game is literally on the verge of launch. All that stands in my way is making the art assets, and there are only six sprites remaining to paint. This is a feeling like no other… to have made a digital game, a working, playable, digital game! I begin to see what really drives game developers, what makes them endure crunches that last months and defy the 5-year-burnout rule. It’s this :) This moment.

Game Design #40: Slither

Introduction: Wriggle, shuffle, and slide along! In this unusual race-to-the-end game, players must manipulate their candies both individually and as part of a collective to propel them to the end bowl first.

Players: 4+

Materials:

  • Regular-sized bags of identically-shaped, multicolored candies (such as M&Ms or Skittles), at least two bags per player.
  • Cups or bowls to hold the candies for random drawing — one per player and two for the start and finish bowls.

Setting Up: Combine the contents of all bags of candy in a common pile. Each player chooses a candy color and retrieves all the candies of that color, keeping them in a personal pile in front of them. Ensure that each player has the same number of candies (feel free to eat any extras). Set out the bowls into a circle: one bowl situated in front of each player, and the start and end bowls in the center spaced a short distance apart. Designate which bowl is the start: each player places on candy of their color in this bowl. Youngest player present goes first; play proceeds to the left.

How to Play: The objective of each player is to move all their candies into the start bowl, around the ring of player bowls, and into the end bowl. Movement around the ring is in a counter-clockwise order beginning with the first player’s bowl and ending with the bowl for the player to their left. Each turn, players may make any of the following moves:

  1. Shuffle: The player may move a single candy from any bowl into the next bowl in the sequence as long as that bowl has no more than five like-colored candies in it already. The first bowl in the ring counts as being “next in sequence” from the start bowl, and the end bowl is next in sequence from the last bowl in the ring. Similarly, players may move candies from their personal pile into the start bowl in this fashion.
  2. Slide: The player may move two candies from any bowl into the next bowl or bowls in sequence: they may move either both candies into the next bowl or one candy into the next bowl and one into the bowl following that. However, they must also move one candy belonging to one of their opponents ahead one bowl. As with Shuffle, the player may not make this move if the destination bowl or bowls already contain at least five of their own colored candies.
  3. Wriggle: The player may move two candies forward one bowl in exchange for moving a third candy backwards one bowl. Similar to Shuffle and Slide, the destination bowl must contain no more than five of the player’s candies, however: in this move, the destination for the candy moving backwards is the critical bowl. The two candies moving forward are not considered when determining whether a player may make this move.
  4. Lunge: The opposite of Wriggle, the player may move one candy forward two bowls in exchange for moving two candies backwards one bowl. Follows the same rules as the previous three moves, though in this case, the candy moving forward two bowls is the critical destination to consider.
  5. Slither: Only usable on a bowl with exactly five player candies in it: The player removes all five of their candies from the bowl and distributes them one each to the next five bowls in the sequence. Any candies that would be placed beyond the end bowl are placed into it instead.

Note that a players moving candies forward from their personal pile move them into the start bowl. Moves that would move candies into or out of the start bowl may treat the personal pile as “the bowl earlier in sequence” from the start bowl. There is no position earlier than this pile, however, so any move that would move a candy backwards from the pile is disallowed. Any of these moves can be made if their conditions allow, but when they are done each bowl on the table must hold ten or fewer candies, total. Thus, if a player’s move places more than ten candies in a bowl, they must move candies out of that bowl and redistribute them as follows:

  • The player must remove candies that are not their own color if at all possible. If only candies of their color remain, only then do they move those.
  • The player must place as many candies as possible in the two bowls adjacent to the target bowl in the sequence. If both the bowl before and the bowl after the target bowl have ten candies and the player still has candies she needs to distribute, she may place them in any bowl on the table that already has at least one candy.
  • Players may not redistribute candies to either the start or end bowl.
  • If every bowl on the table has ten or more candies (not counting the start and end bowls), the player removes the surplus candies entirely and returns them to the player that owns them. These must be started afresh in the start bowl before they may return to play.

Winning the Game: Play continues until one player has moved all the candies of their color to the end bowl. The first player to accomplish this is the winner.

Game Design #39: Fridge

Introduction: Wouldn’t you know it.. the fridge is full again! Sorting all the stuff out, tossing the rotting leftovers, freezing the surplus, and finding room for your new groceries can be quite the challenging puzzle. In this game, players try to figure out how to cram all their stores into one common fridge. With some cunning candy swapping, artful prediction, and a little bit of luck you’ll be the first to get all the food onto the shelves before the ice cream melts and the milk goes bad.

Players: 2-4

Materials:

  • Regular-sized bags of identically-shaped, multicolored candies (such as M&Ms or Skittles), at least two bags per player. Ensure that the colors include red.
  • Bags, hats, or bowls to hold the candies for random drawing — one per player and one for the central pool.

Setting Up: Place all the candies into a central bowl, called the common bowl. Players take turns drawing candies from the common bowl, placing them in their personal bowl, until only ten remain. Designate a first player; play proceeds to the left.

How to Play: In this game, players seek to stock the fridge, or unload all the candies in their personal bowl into the common bowl. However, the common bowl represents the already-crammed household refrigerator, and it can only hold ten candies at a time. Players cannot add candies from their bowl without removing some first.

On their turn, players replace candies in the common bowl based on color: they designate a color and remove and eat all the candies of that color from the common bowl, replacing them with an equal number of candies of a different color from their personal bowl. They may do this for any color represented in the common bowl except the color most prevalent. If there are ties, both colors count as the most common and both are off-limits. If a player cannot make a replacement like this, they may place a single candy of any color into the common bowl in exchange for taking any one of a different color into their personal bowl before ending their turn.

After they take this action, they must remove one candy from the common bowl and eat it. It can be of any color they choose, including the color they just added.

Eating the Leftovers: After each player has added and subtracted in this manner, all players blindly draw one candy from the bowl and eat it, and then blindly draw a candy from their personal bowl and add it to the fridge. Exception: players may not win the game this way. If a player has only one candy remaining in their personal bowl, they draw and eat from the common bowl as normal but do not replace it with their last candy.

Winning the Game: The first player to remove all the candies from their personal is the winner.

Next: Designing “Fridge”: (more…)

How Many Players Can Really Play This?

Something I encountered the other week: the problem of how to address a variable number of players in a non-digital game. The vast majority of board and card games include rules that allow for a range of players. Most insist on at least two or three, and most cap the number at four, five, six, eight , or even ten. Few can support an unlimited number of players. In addition, nearly all have an optimal number, or a quantity that represents the best employment of the game’s particular mechanics and mathematical interplay.

Euchre, a classic card game popular in my native Midwest, is a superb example. It can be played with two or three players, but it is clearly designed to work best with four. The partnership play and the deck breakdown with four cards per trick are obvious assets, but there are also core rules (like “going alone”) that are only possible with four players. Clearly, the game has a poor answer to the question of variable players. It takes the strategy many non-digital games unfortunately employ: accomodating variable players without optimizing for them.

The situation that brought this to my attention was a three-player game of Blokus, the acclaimed geometric puzzle game. Blokus allows for 2-4 players, but it has a square board and location-based play mechanics. In our game, I chose the West corner and my opponents chose North and South. One of my opponents had lost to me every other time we played, and she talked up my skill to our third player, a newcomer to the game. Well, not only did I not win, I lost by a wide margin — the first one to be unable to play. However, I didn’t realize until after the game was over that I had been playing at significant disadvantage. Strategy in Blokus centers around finding space to play while restricting that space for your opponents. Yet at the game’s very beginning, from the choice of our start positions, I was limited to one quarter of the board as my influenced territory before I crossed the invisible line into space dominated by my opponents. However, with no fourth player, both my opponents were uncontested on one of their two borders, giving them essentially three-eighths of the board to call their own. Both of them had a one-eight board space advantage on me, and the added benefit of having no one to contest their moves into that extra eighth. This margin made it very difficult for me to even be competitive, and I am not surprised I lost.

What this showed me was that Blokus also fails at the question of addressing variable players. With a base-two symmetrical board, it is obviously designed to be played with an even number of players. An odd number necessarily leaves one at a permanent disadvantage. This oversight plagues many excellent board games, and few really have good solutions to the problem.

One that I know of that may be the most creative is Rio Grande’s recent masterpiece, Notre Dame. Aside from being an excellent game, it has a particularly unique answer to supporting three to five players. The board is rotationally symmetrical, based around a central tile that represents the famed cathredral. However, the game ships with three different cathedral tiles: each with either three, four, or five sides. The other board pieces are larger, “city section” tiles, and they too are oddly-shaped: Each player controls one section, and they can be rotated to fit the different central tiles and still ensure that each player’s section is equidistant from all other payers’ sections, ensuring that no matter how many are playing, all play from the same position of strength and the game retains its location-based mechanics. Brilliant! Granted, they had to mess with the conventions of board design and layout to achieve this, but it is a prime example of designing with variable players in mind. Clearly, the makers of Notre Dame were more forward-thinking than most board game designers, and we could all learn from their example when considering how to accomodate variable players in our games.

Game Design #38: Immune

Introduction: Threats to the body are many and diverse, and a strong immune system must be prepared to fight off any kind of infection at any time. Build your body’s defenses and be shrewd about how you employ that strength, and you will live a long, healthy, victorious life!

Players: 3-5

Materials:

  • Regular-sized bags of identically-shaped, multicolored candies (such as M&Ms or Skittles), at least two bags per player. Ensure that the colors include red.
  • Bags, hats, or bowls to hold the candies for random drawing — one per player and one for the central pool.

Setting Up: Place all the candies into a central bowl, called the common bowl. Each player draws ten from the common bowl and places them in their personal bowl. Designate a first player; play proceeds to the left.

How to Play: Players’ personal candy bowls represent their body, and each round they take turns strengthening their immune system against the possible infections that could harm it. The active player begins their turn by blindly drawing two candies from the common bowl. They examine them privately, keeping them hidden from the other players. Based on their draw, the player can either choose to keep the two random candies, or return them both to the bowl in exchange for drawing one of their choice.

Infection: After all players have drawn and kept candies in this manner, each player selects one from their bowl and holds it hidden in their hand in the center of the table. At the same moment, all players reveal their chosen candy. Whichever color is most prominent among those selected by all the players is the infection color for the round, and the number of times that color was chosen represents the strength of the infection. Players must respond to the infection by sacrificing candies from their bowl to fight it off: they return two candies of a different color than the infection to the common bowl for each level of strength the infection possesses. For example: five are playing, and at the end of the round it is revealed than two have chosen yellow, one chose green, and one chose brown.  Yellow is therefore the infection, and it has a strength of two. Each player must return four non-yellow candies to the common bowl. If a player cannot return enough off-color candies, they may instead return candies of the same color but at double rate, or four candies per infection level.

If there is a tie among chosen colors to represent the infection, all colors tied for first count as the infection: players cannot expend candies of any of those colors to fight it off, and all the tied colors count for double rate if a player cannot spend enough off-color candies.

If a player’s personal bowl is ever completely depleted, they are overwhelmed by the infection and are out of the game.

Antibodies: Alternatively to sacrificing strength, players may consume antibodies to fight the infection. Antibodies are represented by red candies. A player may fight off one level of infection by eating one red candy from their bowl. Players may employ a combination of eating red candies and returning off-color candies as they choose. They may also consume antibodies instead of returning like-color candies at double rate.

Winning the Game: Play continues until the common bowl is exhausted of candies. At the end of the game, players tally the total they posess of each color, not counting red. Whichever value is lowest represents their score. However, to this value players add the quantity of red candies remaining in their bowl to achieve their final score. High score wins the game.

Getting it Wrong

From a recent post by Yehuda with some simple but important advice: how to recognize hack game design. Too many games, digital and non-digital alike, fall into at least one of these traps. As the designer of more than thirty quick game designs on this blog, I am well aware of the easiness of hacking a design. And, as a student, I see these flaws glaring in many of my fellow students’ work. However, I submit that this is not their fault, and nothing to be ashamed of. They are inexperienced designers, and they have to start somewhere. I certainly count myself among these — I am not a professional (yet) and by forcing a new design out of my head each week, I have no doubt that some of them are utterly worthless, awful games. I value these failures above all others, because this is how I learn. Failing and then having to fix your failure will teach you better than anything how to avoid that mistake again, and being able to recognize the hack spots in your design is critical to this process. It’s no good to have a broken game and no idea why it won’t work. So, if you’re like me and trying to grow and improve as a designer, read what Yehuda has to say and make a checklist for yourself. Study games you play and look for the hacks. Little by little, you’ll learn how to avoid getting it wrong :)

Game Design #37: Scrub

Introduction: Designed in honor of the brilliance and success of the newly-released independent game Braid, a game about snap time reversal and the value — and danger — of being able to “undo” everything you just did. In this game, players compete to rid their hand of cards before the time runs out. However, unlucky plays will make time go in reverse and erase everything they fought to achieve.

Players: 4

Materials: Two identical decks of standard playing cards shuffled together.

Setting Up: Shuffle the deck and deal seven cards to each player, setting the remainder into the center as a draw deck. Draw four cards from the top of the deck and lay them alongside it in a cardinal point arrangement (North-South-East-West, or a “plus” shape) — these are called corner cards, and the cards that will be played on them are referred to as stacks. Each player selects two cards from their hand and lays them on the table in front of them, face-down — these are their play cards. The youngest player present goes first; play proceeds to the left.

How to Play: Each turn, players set cards into play in sequence, attempting to deposit them onto the corner card stacks. The active player first draws a card from the deck and adds it to their hand (with one exception, see below). They then reveal the forward play card (the card closest to the center of the table) and attempt to play it as follows:

  • Cards are played on the top cards in the corner card stacks (or the corner card itself, if no stack yet exists).
  • Cards may be played if they either match the suit of the top card or are one step higher or lower in numerical sequence. For example, a Ten of Hearts may be played on any Heart, or on any Nine or Jack.

If the player is unable to play the card, they pick it up and return it to their hand. After they have dealt with the forward play card, they slide the remaining play card into forward position and replace it with a new card from their hand. Thus, each player always has two play cards on the table.

Scrub Backwards: When a player draws a card, it is possible the card will initiate a time reversal — these are called scrubbing cards. When the game begins, the first scrubbing cards are Aces. If a player draws an Ace, they reveal it to all and set it aside instead of adding it to their hand. Until a new scrubbing card is drawn, play now functions in reverse. Instead of revealing and playing their forward play card, players pick up their rearward play card, move the forward play card into rear position, and select a card from one of the corner card stacks to place into their forward play card position. In this way, each turn players effectively undo one of their turns, depleting the cards in the corner card stacks one at a time. Players still draw cards at the beginning of their turn as normal.

Once a scrubbing card has been drawn, the next numerical rank of cards becomes the new set of scrubbing cards. For example, once a player draws an Ace and sets time in reverse, play continues backwards until another player draws a Two — the next card in sequence. When this occurs, they place the new scrubbing card over the current one and reverse time again — in this instance back to normal play. Now the new scrubbing cards are Threes, and play will continue in normal order until one is drawn. In this way, each new scrubbing card drawn toggles the flow of play between normal and reverse.

If, while play is reversed, players deplete the corner card stacks all the way down to the original corner cards, time is immediately returned to normal flow and play continues. The current scrubbing card does not change — when a new scrubbing card is drawn, time will reverse. Similarly, if players deplete the entire draw deck in the course of play, they continue without drawing until the flow of play changes — as soon as a new scrubbing card is drawn, play is paused while players discard their hands down to seven cards and shuffle the discards into a new draw deck.

Winning the Game: Play continues either until one player runs out of cards or until a King is drawn as a scrubbing card (i.e. the scrubbing card progression is exhausted). As soon as this occurs, the game is over and the player with the fewest cards in their hand is the winner. Ties are allowed.

Riches to be Found in Cooperative Games

Cooperative games, or games that don’t result in one player winning and all others losing, are fascinating. There are precious few of them in the board and card game world. Many competitive games feature elements of cooperation, or at least opportunities for mutual gain among players, but few really pit players on the same side from start to finish. I think of games like Shadows Over Camelot, which I reviewed on this blog some time ago, in which players strive to complete the game before the rules overwhelm them. The game itself functions as the adversary, not the other players. Pandemic is a similarly excellent example: a game that’s cooperative in a players-vs-game mode, that’s really difficult, and that’s tons of fun. It further appears that the tradition of “digital games inherit from board games” is reversed in this instance. Digital games have played cooperatively ever since Mario was joined by Luigi. Why so few cooperative board games, then? They are getting more common, don’t get me wrong. But I feel there are untold riches to find in cooperative game design.

For one, players are required to think in a much larger context. For many, attempting to read and predict the intentions of their opponents is a prohibitive challenge and easily frustrating. In a normal board game, players need only think about the resources in play, their share of those resources, and their opportunities to gather more. In a cooperative game, players think about these same equations and opportunities for all the players in the game, and think about them in terms of contributing to a larger balance — a balance that can and often does involve sacrifice by one or several players for the gain of the whole. The possibility space of moves and decisions is multiplied by the number of players playing — each player is, in a sense, playing for all the players. Each one must think and act from the perspective of everyone in the game.

Another major advantage is the ease and richness of diplomacy and interpersonal communication as part of the system. In a competitive game, players can reasonably assume that all their opponents are out to get them. In a cooperative game, particularly one with elements of competition or hidden motives, this becomes infinitely less certain. Conversation, be it debate, persuasion, collaboration, or simply information sharing, is now a critical mechanic. Many competitive games can virtually be played in silence — players’ intentions are obvious, and their actions within the rules are sufficient to communicate anything they might need to say. But in a cooperative game, lack of communication is like shooting yourself in the foot, and no involved player can afford to sit on the sidelines. Cooperative games therefore involve players to a much greater degree, and keep them involved longer. Consider how, in some competitive games, players can fall far enough behind that they have effectively lost before the game ends and, feeling disaffected and bored, tune out and cease to interact with their fellow players. In a cooperative game, that would never happen. Even if a player’s utility is diminished, it is never destroyed. As a member of the larger effort, they have an everpresent responsibility to contribute their analysis of the situation and suggestions for choices to make (remember above, where I said players are effectively all playing for each other?). Furthermore, even if their actions are limited, the opportunity remains for them to make a small but vital contribution at a crucial moment and, in so acting, save the common effort. Like a pawn sacrifice that leads to checkmate, even the smallest action can have universal importance. Thus, no player is ever “sidelined” in a cooperative game.

These are just some of the ways in which cooperative games offer an expanded, richer experience. I remember in vivid detail games of Shadows I have won and lost, while I tend to forget games of Chess or Go or Settlers or Ticket to Ride. The shared experience has a greater effect and leaves a greater impression, like how team sports are more emotional (by and large) than individual sports. People have a natural affinity for common effort, for coming together to triumph over an adversary no individual could defeat alone. I hope game makers catch on to this and produce many more cooperative games.

Back in Action, One Last Time

Just returned from my sojourn in northern New Hampshire and my working vacation from all things game-related to my university, SCAD, for one last quarter. When I enrolled as a MFA candidate, I was assigned three preliminary undergraduate courses to complete before I could commence graduate study — this because my undergrad experience featured precious little digital artwork. The addition of these courses offset my program of study by one term, so rather than graduate in the spring with most of my peers, I will complete my studies at the end of this fall. I look forward to it! In the meantime, I am happy to return to the world of game design and to resume regular updates on this blog. Apologies to everyone who saw the content rate droop over the summer — it was simply impossible to devote the time to it, so removed was I in my place in the White Mountains. Three weeks behind on game design and with scarce posts on general topics, I am ashamed I let it slide so far. No more — I am back in action again.