Critical Series - Colisseum

Last night I visited with my uncle Mike and his family — the “game uncle.” He is more enthusiastic about board games than I am, and his formidable collection is always growing. He introduced me to all the Days of Wonder games (Shadows Over Camelot, Pirate’s Cove, Ticket To Ride), and on this visit he purchased their latest, Colisseum.

The game has a feel much like Amun Re, actually. There are only five turns in the whole game, played in phases in which each player takes a turn. So players have “turns” four times per round, but the effect is a semi-simultaneous progression. Contrary to whole-turn games like Risk or Settlers, the players’ positions are improved incrementally, all meshed together. It makes for a game that, while appearing slow, is actually very engaging and lends itself well to advanced strategy. The extra time and relatively small steps by which players act gives people plenty of opportunity to analyze the situation and make considered adjustments — neatly addressing the problem of getting more casual players into a deeper game.
The theme of the game is players as Roman impresarios, building lavish arenas and staging events to impress the Roman nobility. Players have little colisseum tiles spaced around the board, laid across a track that little pawns representing the Emperor, consuls, and citizens move along. Their movement is controlled by rolls and getting them to land on your colisseum nets you bonus points. Colisseums can be improved by enlarging them (increasing the chance of getting a pawn to land inside, as well as offering the chance to stage bigger events), buying season tickets that produce a steady stream of points and wealth, or building an Emperor’s Loge that lets you roll two dice for pawn movement instead of one.

Staging events involves a simple form of set collection and resource management, with a few twists. One of the phases is the “asset tile auction:” five groups of three tiles are arranged in the center of the board. The active player selects a group and opens the bidding on it for all players. If the active player wins the auction, they take the tiles into their hand, replace them with new ones drawn from a bag, and the next player gets to start an auction. If another player wins, the active player does not replace the tiles removed but instead picks another group to start. This continues until every player has won once, and that’s how you get tiles. There’s also a phase for trading in which you can exchange tiles for other tiles or for money. The tiles are used to stage events, which are simply lists of sets needed and a associated point value, but there’s a broad range of options for tiles and events. One set may require three Gladiators, three lions, and a Chariot, for example, while another may require two Actors, two Musicians, two Priests, and a Decoration. Producing an event nets point values, plus any bonuses from things like nobility attending, previously produced events (i.e. your colisseum’s reputation) and so on.

The scoring mechanic is also unusual. Instead of a total score for the game, your score is equal to whichever event was most successful out of the five chances you had to produce one. If the best event you produced was a combat on turn three worth 56 points, then 56 is your score.

My impression from play was a game that was extremely well-balanced and consistently engaging despite its relatively complex interwoven mechanics. As I mentioned above, the reordering of turns into phase-based rounds slows the game down enough to allow people to get into it and plan. I noticed people who normally don’t much care for long term strategy scheming and plotting with the best of us. The set collection and resource management is fairly straightforward and familiar, but you hardly notice it amongst all the other things you have to consider. I particularly like the auction mechanic, which is much like Amun Re. It’s easy to see how necessary it was to randomize some aspect of resource collection given how predictable everything else is, but I appreciate that they didn’t just do a random draw. Five groups of three tiles to choose from every round and the task of trying to predict what other people are going to put their money down on makes it a challenge and a pleasure to try and get what you need each turn. And if you mess up, you can always try trading!

In summary, Colisseum is a solid addition to the Days of Wonder catalog, displaying the characteristic attention to detail and fine craftsmanship I’ve come to expect. If you’re looking to pick up a Days of Wonder game I would still recommend Shadows Over Camelot first, but Colisseum would make a great second choice :)

LAN Nostalgia

Last night an old friend of my brother’s came by and hooked up his machine to play games with my brother and me. We played Starcraft, Sins of a Solar Empire, and Battlefield 1942. There were stores of Coke and chips and Twizzlers, and the basement room in which we were arrayed heated up by a good ten degrees. We spent about an hour just getting ready, passing the install CDs around and getting the updates. And best of all, we even had all the classic LAN problems we used to have when we did this weekly in high school — inexplicable Windows crashes leading to an on-site reformat and reinstall, mysterious network errors, version incompatibility and many minutes of patching, and the quintessential older computer that couldn’t handle newer games very well and lagged out the back door to the fury and frustration of its player.

It’s funny how LAN parties, for me, have become a form of nostalgia. This is what I did with my spare time, and a great deal of my not-spare time, from age 15 to 18. My circle of friends was the LAN group, and we met at least weekly in someone’s house, at least eight or nine strong on average, and played all night. We even had our own acronym — MANGLED, or the Milwaukee Area Network Gaming League For Extreme Deathmatching. I know, right? :)

Now I’m in grad school, I’ve lost touch with nearly everyone from that crowd, and LAN parties are things we have with two or three people “for old time’s sake” once or twice a year when people are back in town for holidays. Can you imagine? Computer gaming and social gatherings centered around it have evolved and embedded themselves into everyday life enough that they can now be categorized as “old times,” and be a source of fond reminiscence of youth. It’s different from the arcade generation, because that was an external location at which people gathered, like a diner or a drive-in. LAN parties have a different flavor, and a different effect on you when you have them in your home.

As the average gamer age tops 30 and climbs, it’s funny to see gaming start to climb over the hill. Videogames are middle-aged! What a riot! No matter how people rant and rail about the evils of violent games and corruption of youth, games settle into our lives and our history with the slow, incontrovertible persistence of a glacier. Someday I’ll be watching my kids hosting or attending LAN parties (probably) and thinking back to when I was a teenager heading off for the same. Some day, games will be a common experience that unites the generations, instead of dividing them. Some day, the word “gamer” won’t exist. It’ll be synonymous with “person.”

Game Design #26: Sweethearts

Introduction: A game of young love with all its wonders — especially the rumors, gossip, and secrecy! The annual school dance has arrived and the night is alive with possibility. Choose your sweetheart and court them as the dance wears on, but beware! Gossip is delicious, and your opponents will expose you and your tender secret if you get too careless — as you would do to them, naturally. Try to keep your heart concealed as you work to uncover the hidden desires of your opponents’ fancies.

Players: 4+

Materials:

  • Pens or pencils, one per player.
  • Small scraps of paper, four per player (a standard sheet of letter-sized paper torn into eighths works well).
  • Medium-sized sheets of paper, one per player, for scorekeeping (a standard sheet of letter-sized paper torn in half works well).
  • One ten-sided die.

Setting Up: All players take positions around a table or in a standing group such that they form a circle — no player should be able to see the back of any other player. Distribute the scraps of paper and pencils, one per player. Each player writes the name of another player on a scrap, folds it, and conceals it. This name is their sweetheart for the game. They sign the other three scraps and set them aside. Designate one player to act as master of ceremonies, or ‘MC’: this person is responsible for moderating each round (see below).

How to Play: Each player’s goal is to dance with their sweetheart as many times as possible while minimizing the rumors written about them. The game proceeds in rounds with all players acting in random order, as follows: the MC announces each round by saying, “Boys and girls, the next dance is beginning. Choose your partners.” After this is spoken, each player places both hands behind their back (or under the table) and indicates a number from one to ten with their fingers. The MC will count down from three, and all players will reveal their chosen number simultaneously. The MC will then roll the die to determine in which a player (or group of players) acts. In the event multiple players hold the same number, they will act simultaneously when that number is rolled. For simultaneous actions such as this, the MC will count again from three and each player will announce their chosen action (see below).

Players should continue to hold their chosen number until after the MC has rolled it and they have taken their action; the MC continues to roll until all players have acted.

When it is their turn to act, players choose one of these three actions: dance, start a rumor, or gossip

  • Dance: The player indicates a person with which they wish to dance by pointing at them and saying, “Care to dance?” Acceptance of dance requests is compulsory :) The pair writes the name of their partner on their score sheet. Neither player may take any further action this round, with one exception (see “Gossip”). Dance requests always take precedence over other actions for resolving simultaneous actions. If two dance requests conflict, the MC rolls off to break the tie.
  • Start a Rumor: A player may choose to make a guess about another player’s sweetheart. They write the names of the players on one of their three small scraps in the following manner: if they believe that Player A has Player B’s name written down as their sweetheart, they write “Player A loves Player B.” After this is written, they fold the scrap and hand it off to any other player. Note that, because each player has only three small scraps, they may start only three rumors during the whole course of the game.
  • Gossip: A player may choose to read the rumors written by other players. They simply select the scrap of their choice, read it, then write their initials on it and return it to the player from whom they took it. However, if the rumor was handed to them by another player, then the rumor is held by them and they may read it for free at any time without using their action, even while dancing (Note that they must still initial it after reading). A player may read the same rumor multiple times, but they do not initial it more than once.

Winning the Game: Play continues for a number of rounds equal to the number of players multiplied by three (twelve rounds for four players, fifteen for five, and so on). After all rounds have been completed, each player reveals their sweetheart. For each dance they recorded on their scoresheet with their sweetheart, the player gains one point. Additionally, for every other player who named them as their sweetheart, the player gains one point.

After the sweethearts have been revealed and scored, the MC collects all the rumors in play and reveals them. For each accurate rumor, the targeted player loses one point (in the example above, Player A is the target of the rumor “Player A loves Player B.”). For every set of initials written on an accurate rumor, the player who started it gains half a point. The player with the highest score wins.

Next: Designing “Sweethearts:” (more…)

Righteous Furor

Last night my team, the Detroit Red Wings, finally bested the upstart Pittsburgh Penguins in Game 6 to win the Stanley Cup and their fourth championship in eleven seasons. I have been an ardent Detroit fan since I lived there as a child and witnessed their back-to-back sweep of the championship in ‘97 and ‘98, but I fell out of touch over the years after I moved away from Michigan and could no longer see their games televised. This year I got back into it, though, when I learned they had made the playoffs as top seed. I’ve been following the action ever since with great, often fanatical, enthusiasm.

The Wings should have won in Game 5, but lost in triple overtime to an unlucky penalty. I was despondent and furious, cursing and railing and storming out of the room. My companions chastised me for being so childish, and this led to a curious realization. Games in general and sporting events in particular evoke an uncharacterstic level of emotional attachment among their participants and supporters, but more importantly: games and sports are culturally accepted as venues in which emotion of this level and this irrationality can be displayed.

Consider: our culture is generally fairly reticent and courteous. We disapprove of loud or ostentatious displays of personality except under certain circumstances or in specific venues. We have laws against public nuisances and disturbances, or for noise violations. We scold people for being boisterous in theaters, libraries, offices, and courts. But we revel in the roar and intensity of a crowd attending a sporting event. What is it about game and sports that they deserve this distinction?

Games and sports are one of the few places in which people feel they can get attached to an irrational degree. We go wild for our teams when they win, and feel heartbroken when they lose. We can curse and rail, get into fights with total strangers, paint our bodies and wear ridiculous outfits, and do all manner of things we’d never get away with in any other situation. Sports (merely physical games) provide an outlet, a venue for release of emotion that exists nowhere else in the modern world, and it is another of the many strengths and essential gifts of games. This kind of opportunity is essential, I feel, to keeping most of us on an even keel. We need this release, we need this surrender. I needed to be irate when the Wings lost in Game 5, and ecstatic when they won in Game 6. My friends, instead of chastising me, probably would have benefited from joining in the furor :)

Game Design #25: Superdelegate

Introduction: In honor of Barack Obama’s recent victory in the Democratic presidential primary race comes a game about currying support in the face of overwhelming odds and hazy information. You play a superdelegate watching an intense battle between two evenly-matched opponents. Throw your support behind the winning candidate to score points, but in the world of politics nothing remains static. Weigh their strengths and weaknesses, highs and lows, and support trends as you ride the wave of public opinion to emerge on the winning team.

Players: 3+

Materials:

  • Pens or markers of different colors, one per player.
  • Several sheets of paper for recording turns and scores.
  • Small scraps of paper for use in voting and auctioning (A standard 3×5″ index card torn into four sections works well).
  • A box, hat, or bag to use as a ballot box.
  • At least one six-sided die.

Setting Up: Distribute the pens or markers to each player. Designate a person to act as ballot counter for the first round — this position rotates each turn. Select names for the two candidates and write them onto a sheet of paper atop two columns, entering a zero as the first entry under each candidate.

How to Play: Each turn, the two candidates compete for delegates in one of the fifty state primaries. The score sheet reflects each candidate’s standing as a number of delegates in support, increasing each turn as the primaries are completed. Following the order of primaries for the Democratic party, the players analyze the candidates’ standing and choose which to support, writing their choice on a scrap of paper and placing it in the ballot box. The ballot counter then determines the results of the primary as follows: take all the digits in the candidate’s current score and add them up — this is the number of die rolls the candidate gets that turn, from a minimum of one up to a maximum of ten. The ballot counter rolls for each candidate and adds the totals from all die rolls; the candidate with the higher total wins the primary. Delegates are awarded based on these totals (see below) and added to the candidate’s column on the score sheet. Players’ votes of support are then revealed and marked by drawing a star in that player’s color beside the candidate’s score for the turn.

Winning Support: The total from the die rolls for each candidate represents the new delegates in support they gain from the primary — immediately add it to their total support score. Additionally, whichever candidate wins the primary gets four bonus delegates in support — immediately add these as well.

For example: On turn three (Michigan primary), Candidate A has 15 delegates and Candidate B has 17. Thus, Candidate A gets six die rolls (1 + 5 from the number 15) and Candidate B gets eight (1 + 7 from the number 17). Players vote and the die is rolled, and Candidate A wins with a total of 15 over Candidate B’s total of 12. Each candidate gets their total for the turn added to their support number, brining them to 30 and 29, respectively. Candidate A gets a further four delegates for winning the primary. Players’ votes are now revealed and stars are marked on the score sheet next to this turn’s support value.

Winning the Game: Play continues until all fifty primaries have been completed or until one candidate acquires 628 delegates in support. At the end of the game, the candidate with the most delegates in support is the winner of the primary election. For every time a player supported that candidate during the primaries (represented by the number of stars of that player’s color that are visible amongst the sequence of totals on the score sheet), that player scores two points. For every time a player supported the losing candidate during the primaries, they score one point. Additionally, every player that supported the winning candidate on the last turn (the turn the candidate won) gains ten bonus points. The player with the highest score wins.

Next: Designing “Superdelegate:” (more…)

The Point

My brother recently graduated from college with a degree in physics and a minor in mathematics. After spending the summer with me working theater in New Hampshire, he’ll be heading to sub-Saharan Africa to teach science for the Peace Corps for two years. When he returns, he plans to enter graduate school in Edinburgh in one of four programs related to environmental engineering and sustainability.

By contrast, I plan to spend the rest of this year finishing my degree, then either moving straight away into teaching game design at SCAD or heading off to a development house somewhere in the US to work on commercial games for two to four years before returning to academia.

Let us compare: my brother is going to teach science in a desperate part of the world, and then he’s going to learn how to help people undo the damage we’ve done to the environment and avert the climate crisis. I am going to finish art school and then go make games that, in all likelihood, will be nothing more than distractions for rich Westerners.

Which is the nobler purpose? Who is using their time more constructively, to effect greater positive change in the world? Who’s path is more worthwhile?

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Top Ten Noble Sciences of Game Design

One of the things I find most attractive about game design is the need for true multi-disciplinary thinking. A diverse mind engaged in diverse pursuits is a far more fertile designer than one that is focused, however nimble or learned that mind may be. Game designers create whole universes, and no mere education in digital modeling or interactive design or industrial design or whatever can possibly prepare you for the wealth of knowledge and insight necessary to pull that off. It requires a real Renaissance man (or woman).

Because I find kinship with polymaths and enjoy the pursuit of learning in literally every subject (I mean it), I attended Trinity University and sought a broad curriculum. I can say without hesitation that that decision was instrumental in my subsequent interest in and success with game design (moderate success, of the student variety of course :)). But for those not so fortunate as to enjoy the opportunity to learn from great minds in a wide variety of fields — such as those poor souls attending art school — I offer my suggestions for the Top Ten Noble Sciences for Game Design: the disciplines every game designer should endeavor to study and apply to their work. Obvious one such as math or writing or drama are left out because they are so pervasive that if you are trying to design games without knowing them, you probably ought to stop. Presented in order of least to greatest importance, they are all nonetheless important and indispensable to great design: (more…)

Game Design #24: Gooball

Introduction: Hardly any necessary :) Roll your little gooey avatar around the table and try to bump your opponents as you compete to score points, but beware: your elasticity and density waxes and wanes with the dice rolls.

Players: 3+

Materials:

  • Several twelve-sided dice, one per player, preferably of different colors
  • Rulers or tape measures
  • A playing surface at least twenty-four inches on a side
  • A small sticker or counter to mark the center point

Setting Up: Each player chooses a die to represent themselves on the playing surface. Plot the center point of the surface and mark it with the sticker or counter. Each player rolls their dice and positions it that many inches away from the center point, in any direction. Designate a first player; play proceeds to the left.

How to Play: Each player’s die is their avatar, or gooball, with which they attempt to score points, flatten opponents, or both. On their turn, players indicate a direction in which they intend to move and place the ruler or tape measure along that line, with the edge in line with their gooball. They then retrieve their die, roll it, and return it to the position it occupied at the start of the turn with the newly-rolled value showing (player should mark the die’s position with their finger or the corner of the ruler in order to remember it accurately). The new value represents the gooball’s power for the turn: it is the extra distance in inches the gooball may move and the strength it wields when bumping other players’ gooballs.

Once the die has been rolled and repositioned, the player may move it along the path they indicated at the start any distance up to the gooball’s power plus five inches (they are not required to move the full amount if they so choose). Note that this means a gooball has a minimum movement of six inches (five plus a roll of one) and a maximum of seventeen. If the gooball collides with another player’s gooball, they bump it (see below). If they pass over or onto the center point of the playing surface, they score a point (see below).

Bumping: If a player’s gooball bumps another player’s gooball, the gooball’s movement ceases immediately and a collision occurs. The gooball with the higher power remains in place, and the gooball with the lower power is moved directly away from the stronger gooball a number of inches equal to the difference in their value, along the path the moving gooball was traveling before it hit. Distance traveled to effect the bump has no bearing on which gooball is displaced or the strength of the collision.

Scoring: Every time a player’s gooball passes over the center point of the playing surface, they score one point. Note that this means that a player may score multiple points in a turn if they are bumped across it by another gooball.

Winning the Game: The first player to reach fifteen points is the winner.

Next: Designing “Gooball” (more…)

With Highest Honor

I have occasionally thought that pursuing an advanced degree is a bit like playing a game… a massive, cumbersome, complex game. Maybe that’s a sign I think about games too much :) Recently, I had a rude awakening regarding the structure of this game I’m playing: they changed the rules on me. Rather, the rules did not change, I discovered an assumption I had made about the rules was false, and it changed the nature of my participation significantly. I stopped wanting to play.

American accredited universities have the custom of awarding Latin honors to new graduates: cum laude (meaning “with honor”), magna cum laude (”with great honor”) and summa cum laude (”with highest honor”). Usually these are determined by one’s cumulative GPA upon the date of graduation. For example, when I received my BA from Trinity, I had a 3.77 overall GPA and thus was awarded magna cum laude. I remember it clearly because it was the last semester’s good grades that pushed my GPA over the mark: 3.75 was the designator for magna cum laude, as opposed to cum laude (3.5). At the time I was somewhat preoccupied with this, and I received rebuke and criticism from many of my friends and colleagues for being so “obsessed with grades.” I was offended and hurt by their condemnation. I thought, “I have and achieved a great thing: excellent grades for four years of work, spanning many diverse departments and disciplines, is no easy task. What I have accomplished is noteworthy; it represents hard work, talent, determination, perseverance, and commitment above and beyond what is necessary simply to graduate. By merit of this effort I have earned a place of distinction among my peers. Why should I be blasé about this honor?”

I as mystified why my peers should be so scornful. What is the value of recognizing greatness and distinction among contemporaries? How should we do so? Hierarchical awards are nothing new. Most American universities give honorary degrees to persons of great vision, leadership, talent, or diligence. American high schools have valedictorians and salutatorians for the top achievers in the class. Kindergarten teachers give gold stars to students with exemplary behavior or who produce exemplary work. While it can be rightly said that no person should undertake great work simply for the attention that comes with a prestigious award, it is nevertheless important that such awards exist. Likewise, we do not award such honor in order to make the unrecognized feel less than, but to inspire them by example. When we bestow honor on our best and brightest, we are saying two things: to the honoree, we say, “You have accomplished a great thing. Your work stands as an example of the heights of possibility for human achievement, and you have bettered us all by your effort. For this contribution to the community, we honor you.” And to those in attendance we say, “Give due to this person and note their accomplishment. They have achieved a great thing, and have bettered us all by their effort. They stand as inspiration to all, and an example of the opportunities for and rewards of great endeavor.”

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Nice Save

“It’s not a mistake, it’s an iteration. I’m a game designer — everything I say is a prototype.”

- Brenda Brathwaite