Games

What to do with the gaming portion of this website remains the key question; the section on other stuff is easy, given that it’s the catch-all realm. Critters gets writings focused on, well, critters, which probably could be merged with other stuff, but we’ll see to what extent each section persists without the other’s presence. Climbing shall remain a barren landscape, I fear, given that COVID-19 has crushed that aspect of life into memories and anticipations. Though, I suppose I could relabel it as exercise during this hopefully temporary foray into the apocalypse. Ultimately, the goal behind this website is to prompt me to write, as a means to focus energy during the insanity at large as well as to see what habits, hobbies, curiosity, or the like might emerge.

I hope to connect my love for games to this website in a meaningful, useful fashion. This could mean writing reviews, creating videos to explain rules or serve as reviews, or some other endpoint. No idea. No idea seems firm, and options remain equal parts boundless and inchoate. I thought to write nebulous, but at least each nebula appears discrete in the night sky, and the presence of each excites many a viewer. Messier has no stranglehold on such elations.

This morning wakefulness deprived me of extended slumber. About two hours before my scheduled time to arouse my senses, my eyes were open, backed by an alert mind. Rather than linger in the bed, as is the typical outcome of restlessness at war with my desire to knock back hours of sleep, I moseyed to the kitchen to stumble through coffee making and food gathering to plant myself before my in-session game of Cloudspire. Griege Solo 1, with two waves completed.

This faction feels wild; the entire evolution process is exciting in that it changes the pace of your onslaught, for the evolving units camp out for several turns before they charge toward the enemy gate in powered-up form. The hero who takes health from the gate creates an unnerving situation on the home front, for losing your gate becomes a matter of a powerful enemy or a few mediocre ones sneaking past your units. The powers on the units are fun; they introduce new options in terms of having a unit with toxic secretion and another one with the ability to leave toxic fumes polluting a path upon its death. It’ll be interesting to see how the dearth of spire types will play out, given that the two options seem viable for many situations, even if limited. The Griege feel like a shaken-up incarnation of the familiar, though to what extent they’ll play out different from the other factions remains to be seen, for whereas the other four factions were present throughout the preceding solo scenarios, this marks their first time outside of the plastic chip tray within which they entered my home. I will say that reading through their abilities and considering the various fortress upgrades left me giddy. You can buy a mercenary and essentially sacrifice it to the hive to infuse its ability to your minions or consume it to heal your gate?! Color me intrigued by the less enticing market options!

Overall, my solo plays have been satisfying. I love that much of the game requires you to use the rules against the game, for the AI follows prescribed actions, and then you get to choose for it when multiple viable paths, sometimes in the literal sense, present themselves. That you can influence who hits whom, and set in motion a series of events that will cause area-effect abilities to cause harm to the AI, pleases me, as does flipping landmark minions which will deplete an opposing unit’s health well before it makes it near your own units. That each solo scenario alters the overarching framework keeps me curious, as well as teasing out variations on how to remain nimble.

With only three solo missions left, for I succeeded in securing three renown this morning, I have decided to space out the remaining games. Rather than set up the second Griege solo scenario, I packed away the contents.

Not sure what I shall unearth next, perhaps Too Many Bones. Though, going down the solo rabbit hole present by Hoplomachus: Origins does intrigue me. It seems I’m on a Chip Theory Games kick, though I still wish to see what sort of soloing can be secured by Paladins of the West and Brass: Birmingham. Also, running another Mage Knight session could be fun, as well as picking back up 7^th Continent, though I suspect that game might not be for me. Rogue-like games often frustrate me; experiencing Groundhog Day is torture, not fun. Though, sometimes rogue-like offerings are decent, and maybe 7^th Continent will turn out to be less painful as the die-repeat process occurs. I suspect that, for me, it’s better played with a friend then alone, so as to distribute the frustrating aspects and add in some dialogue and shared contemplation rather than rushing about as I tend to do while alone. Spirit Island is another contender. With the recent release on Steam, playing has become much easier.

During the 2019 shutdown of the United States government, a group of us had ample time to play games. Day after day, we’d gather to play Smash Bros as well as various board games. After several of these gatherings, on January 15, I decided to start logging my plays. The above graph represents the games most played since then. I wanted to produce a second chart relying only on plays since the COVID-19 lockdown, but the service I used doesn’t appear to allow me to control timeframes. Perhaps later this month, or in May, I’ll construct the graph to display my pandemic metrics, which will appropriately enough include Pandemic, given that I’ve logged 4 plays. Notably, my gaming log does not include plays via an electronic medium against AI opponents. If I included that info then you’d see hundreds of instances of Shards of Infinity, a stronger Pandemic presence, additional Through the Ages plays, some Aeon’s End, That’s Pretty Clever, 7 Wonders, Ascension, Carcassonne, and Battleline, among other games. At some point, perhaps I’ll start to account for these solo bouts against AI opponents. For now, however, logs are for more substantial undertakings, as in games played with or against other humans or those that involve physical components (e.g., 19 of the 20 instances of Cloudspire were played solo).

This list of games reflects my gaming preferences rather well. Foremost, I’m down to game, and will play a game I don’t love if doing so means I get to hang out with one or more friends while moving around cardboard pieces. Certain games fill this space. My girlfriend will play Space Base or Azul, but not Scythe or Too Many Bones. Similarly, we have friends who will engage at various levels of games, and some games, such as Root, require multiple plays within a condensed span of time to learn the rules, let alone strategies, thus if someone does not regularly participate then having a range of options helps ensure that we play a game.

Thus, Tiny Towns, while fine, isn’t something I’d clamor to play, yet fits many a gaming session as evidenced by its six plays. Quacks of Quedlinburg shot up through the ranks given its short playing time, ease of play, and the goofy fun that it provides. Yet, explaining it takes more time than it warrants without the time and commitment to play multiple times, thus most of its sessions involve the same people. That The Mind did not have more than five plays surprises me, for it’s been a fun game that goes quickly and is easily taught and everyone who has played it has demanded multiple games. I suspect that it has five sessions, in that I logged that we played a series of rounds of it rather than logging each one individually, and that the most recent game to reach five made it to the top twenty. Splendor has seen a shit ton of plays lately due to my brother and I playing two or three games remotely every few nights. It probably went from seven or eight plays to seventeen during COVID.

As I proceed through my catalog, certain games fall further from the rotation. Smash Up might soon leave my collection; it’s too random and swingy, with outcomes feeling more an outcome of happenstance than strategy. Add in that you need to know the factions to feel like you have any ability to plan, you have a game dominated by randomness yet requiring of investment. Another knock against it is that the rules across the various card powers can be finnicky, for you must read the text closely and parse the terms as an attorney, such that you end up debating and researching interactions amongst the cards, squandering time from a game where what you happen to draw as compared with that cards others have available dominates the outcome.

Cloudspire has been wonderful for soloing, and given that there are five factions, each with four solo scenarios, I’m near its end. I think I had to repeat two or three scenarios, which is why with 19 solo sessions I still have four scenarios to go. Go Griege!

Scythe, Root, and Hoplomachus are the games that I’m most eager to play these days. Same with Innovation and Through the Ages. Due to online playing, I suspect these latter two will rise into the Top 20 before long. I’m looking forward to writing about these games, among other ones, as this site continues to progress.

The dream team reunited for what may be our final pre-Legacy bout of Pandemic. Seven epidemics, with the virulent strain included, proved surmountable. Cities were devastated by the black virus. It was looking bleak in those parts. Ten cubes remained in the supply, and there were multiple locations with three cubes, all near each other. Fortunately, though, we had our Quarantine Specialist camp out in Karachi, which bordered many of the problem cities. Adding to our fortune was that she held the Karachi player card, which the Dispatcher needed to effect black cure. Eastern Asia wasn’t faring much better. With red we were also at about ten cubes, though four cubes had been flung from the supply due to a virulent strain epidemic card. South America and Africa had begun to look bleak. Sao Paola and Lagos were about to outbreak into each other, cascading yellow cubes throughout the lands. Blue, we managed to eradicate early. We still had a good number of cards in the player deck – probably about eighteen or so once we turned in the five black cards needed to implement our final cure. The round of turns before that we saved yellow by using the re-examined research event to grab the fifth card needed, and the round of actions before we had turned in six red cards to cure the virulent strain, which due to an epidemic had required additional research.

We closed with only having had three outbreaks, a sizable player deck remaining, and a good number of cubes for each supply. Notably, we had even had two turns where we used only three of the four actions, and one player discarded the Special Orders event card; given that we had the Dispatcher and Operations Expert, we were able to move each other around well enough without needing the event, so it made more sense to keep player cards that could be shared/suited then to retain this event.

It was a wonderful game, full of dialogue and tension. That we managed several turns before the first epidemic struck drove our success. We were able to get situated on the board early in the game, and then we did not need to worry as much about all of the initial cities getting hammered early in the game. Chicago was one of our initial 3-cubed cities yet never came up again, at least not before we eradicated blue several rounds down the line. Another benefit was that many of the problem cities were near each other, thus making it easy to treat flare ups as well as make use of the Quarantine Specialist. I think a good number of things went in our favor, including one or two cities pulled for the “infect cards” step of the Epidemic card (where you put three cubes on a fresh infection city card) were blue cities, following that disease’s eradication. Though, I do think that some well-played moves created a situation where luck could favor us. As in life, sometimes you make your fortune.

A group of us has been playing Pandemic. The timing is somewhat incidental. We had been on the cusp of unboxing Pandemic Legacy. The box has been staring me down for years, and now that I’ve developed a group of players who interact openly and amicably it seems that we have the right mix of personalities to allow for a positive outcome. For, playing Pandemic with the wrong set of people is terrible – you deal with micromanagers, passive-aggressive types, and alpha gamers, among other displays of unpleasant behaviors.

Thus, that we had a crew that enjoyed communicating, would be open to trying out options, and were generally circumspect and contemplative without being overbearing meant we might enjoy the game, and it’s supposed to be quite a fun way to divert some time while engaging in a story that evolves the game’s parameters as it progresses. Given its “legacy” nature, it seemed like I had only one shot at getting it right since I’d like to have a shared, pure experience with one group, and it’s a commitment of 12 – 24 games, with the count varying due to you receiving two attempts to complete each scenario.

One impediment that prevented us from getting started is that we wished to conduct at least one trial run through base Pandemic before opening up Legacy. We needed to confirm that, yes, we would be a solid crew. Given that none of us really “needs” to play Pandemic and that if offered options we’d pick another game, we were not moving toward discovering whether Legacy would be in the cards, and, well, the cardboard, for us. Days passed. Weeks collected. No experiment occurred.

Enter COVID-19. Suddenly, we were questing for games, and most of the people with whom I game are wary to drop dollars, especially for things like app- or Steam-incarnations of boardgames. Thus, Hanabi, which can be played for free, and Pandemic, which one person can host via a phone or tablet, have become standbys for the intermittent virtual board game gathering. And, it’s been a lot of fun, and has confirmed our suspicions: yes, we’re solid. We even make Mr. Goat smile (evidence via the image attached to this post).

As a related side note, I’ll warn that the recent upgrade to the Pandemic app has been a severe downgrade. What was once a smooth, clear, and efficient interface has become awkward. It now fails to provide as much information on the screen, and many of the aspects of the interface have become less intuitive. It transformed from an epitome of a well-designed board game app implementation to something more in the meh category, which makes its fall from grace that much more painful for it’s always easier to never know what you could have had than to have lost it for an inferior substitution. Fortunately, I upgraded only on my phone and shall strive to maintain thee pre-“upgrade” version on my iPad for as long as possible, recognizing that I’ll probably never play the game on my phone anymore for its implementation has lost Eden.

Throughout life, there will be moments where people will try to convince you that groups perform better than individuals at many tasks. Of course, no individual got us to the moon, but in many aspects of life, I’ve found that groups often feel like navigating difficulties to reach points that I’d have otherwise found alone, or at least via a smaller group. Like, at bar trivia, my best performances, for the most part, have sprung from groups of two or three rather than of six. Those in-class activities where you read a paper about how you’re a castaway and need to rank the items you’d prioritize and then you go into groups to reevaluate found me faring worse after being prodded to endorse different rankings. Yes, in many aspects, especially where I’m weak, groups improve my performance, but I’ve found that part of using groups is to recognize when not to use them as well. As in trivia, I know shit about sports and current pop music, thus a co-participant or two who cover those topics is critical.

Pandemic works best when you’re not perfect at it, and when the story is the same for your partners. Alone, I can win at six epidemics a fair amount of the time, especially with certain roles in play. A few particular roles are weaknesses for me. And, when playing alone, I rush along, giving some thought to options but generally play quickly, with a game being conducted in about 10 minutes. All of which is to say that losses are inevitable. While playing with my group, we’ll discuss options, banter a bit, and then select one. It’ll not always be the path I’d prefer, but it’s a path that provides merit, and sometimes it works out better than the course that I’d have undertaken. We’re undefeated thus far, and now after several games I’m a bit reticent to do another for the perfect streak is a beautiful thing. Yet, there’s still one level of difficulty to pursue. We covered 6 epidemics. We covered 7 epidemics. We defeated 6 epidemics with the virulent strain addition, thus now we’re staring down 7 epidemics plus the virulent strain. And, as I write those words it strikes me that I damn eager to face this challenge!

Root has captured me unlike many other games. When playing, it’s fine, and sometimes the processes can feel a touch mechanical. You handle your faction within a rather circumscribed set of rules; following the flow provided by the three divisions of your turn (birdsong, daylight, and evening), ever feeling a touch constrained by the options. Most turns, you cannot quite accomplish all of your goals. Though, when you do manage to get everything done, it feels magical, like completing any formidable to-do list that might apply to any facet of your daily grind. You manage your cards, you survey the board, and you try to figure out the path toward that breakout moment ahead where you surge on the victory track to become everyone’s punching target.

However, once the game completes, I feel entranced. I want to play again, often immediately. Damned be responsibilities. Sleep, another thing to forbear. Give me some woodland hostilities and a happy man you’ll see. The asymmetry is what creates this allure. It beguiles me. That a game can contain multiple experiences, and then their interplay can further set options ablaze intrigues me. Possibilities as wildfire can spread across the forest landscape, and each of them beckon me inward. The flames light my torch, allowing me to illuminate the unknowns of this charming game.

Together, my coplayers and I discover ways to maintain balance, discovering how each faction best accrues points while trying to pinpoint when to focus on a particular player to prevent that person from surging too far ahead, for it seems each faction becomes near unstoppable upon reaching a particular board state. That the balance derives from the rules as much as the in-game dynamics provides for a nuanced game, especially considering each faction conducts its own operations with unique goals that meet directly in the form of victory points.

I love how each faction represents a common gaming mechanic. The Eyrie function via preprogrammed movement, like a minigame version of Colt Express, Roborally, Mechs vs. Minions, or any of their ilk. The Marquise serve as the typical euro where you manipulate resources and build structures, while maintaining some area control to ensure the flow of wood used for building.

The Woodland Alliance at first glance don’t seem to be as easy to analogize, though their use of sympathy and revolts remind me of realignments/coups from Twilight Struggle and the spreading of sympathy is an engine builder for the more sympathy you place the more cards will be added to your supports stack. The more you spread, the more you obtain. Further, there’s a hand management aspect to this faction in terms of balancing between maintaining the supporters stack and your hand.

The Vagabond is the weirdo that has no warriors, and is conducting a limited Merchants and Marauders experience, in that you’re completing quests and basically moving from clearing to clearing to, in a sense, deliver goods as you might do in Star Wars: Outer Rim. Other factions have little incentive to attack the Vagabond, which is good given that attacks can completely cripple the rascal; however, at some point he must be contained for, like the Alliance, he can launch his points forward dramatically, especially if he has become well-armed.

The base deck provides life-path options, as you tend to craft different powers from game-to-game, and the accrual of points via these cards versus the other benefits they can provide (e.g., decree or supporter) can provide a nice side hustle to manage. It’ll be interesting to see how the Exiles & Parisians deck alters their feel. Same idea with the maps, especially given the ferry being another means to move around the board, and the mountain map with the closed paths and ability to score points via the pass location. Even the winter board, with the randomized suits for clearings would alter the feel and rhythms of the game. Dispersing suits across a changed distribution will vary how the Alliance spreads, the Eyrie move, and the Marquise craft. Overall, I love that I feel a tension between wanting to dive deeper into what I know against blowing up what I’ve learned by springing forth variations. Slowly, factions, maps, and cards will enter my experience of this game’s saga.

I suppose, in the end, it’s that everything together feels bubbly. Scythe, a game I enjoy, feels somewhat repetitive, even if the puzzle maintains its allure for me. Root, even with ten plays under my belt, feels fresh, for I’m eager to try each of the factions another time, and probably another time following this next go. This desire to invent, reinvent, experience, and re-experience continually churns within me. Bubbling up in me asking my friends to play again, and again. And, that a group of us once played three times in a night, switching up our roles each time verifies that my ardor for this game isn’t unique to me alone.

Scythe does a wonderful job balancing the various factions and incentives. Whether each faction is balanced in terms of its overall strength, especially when factoring in the player board combinations, is a different topic. What I’m focusing on here is the design behind the factions.

Some of these elements are obvious. Crimea runs off of combat cards, thus the faction starts with no such cards. This hindrance goes further for the two immediate neighbors from the base set of factions lack a strong path toward enlisting, thus making it difficult for Crimea to receive a steady supply of wildcard resources. Fortunately for Crimea, Rusviet will sometimes want to create an engine to obtain combat cards due to the mech that allows a worker to use a combat card, thus helping to ensure that the faction will have many cards available to provide this often-essential benefit; however, not every game will see Rusviet behave this way.

In terms of balancing ability with need, Rusviet can drop a Mech to then warp their leader to the Factory, but Rusviet arguably least needs a factory card given that the faction can already move during successive turns and moving two, or three pieces with an upgrade, is often superior to moving one piece two or three hexes. Whereas Polania desires the extra move action to facilitate grabbing encounters, especially in games with fewer player counts given that more encounters will remain available yet lacks initial access to mechs and must rush the factory card to maximize its use, which in turns means not grabbing encounters right away. Nordic feel the most suited to adapt to the particular makeup of a game, being able to produce on nearly any resource without much effort; however, their mechs are so-so, outside of the wonderful ability to hide on lakes as well regroup after defeat to return to glory, and often seem to stall when going for the last star.  Saxony can take a little effort and discipline to unleash, and seems to struggle at building power, which can be a useful star to grab before going wild with warfare, yet maintain the best mech power of the base factions,  being able to warp into battle easily via their homeland’s mountain hex.

This interplay of factions while trying to maximize moves by linking top and bottom actions to the fullest extent all while recognizing that to get six stars means you’ll want to ignore certain development paths beyond the lightest dabbling. My games have found building to be one of the least viable paths to victory, same with upgrading all six cubes; however, I suspect there are ways to make such outcomes successful perhaps by ensuring you reach the highest tier of popularity. Trying to maximize moves is the Excel-like aspect of the game, where I’m seeking to find the sweet point that achieves the highest proportion of progress to efficiency. As an example, it seems unwise in most situations to move your leader from the starting faction circle until you’ve deployed the plus one movement mech, unless you’ve upgraded your movement to allow three moves and have no need for the third. Generally, movement without a clear gain is wasted (e.g., putting a worker on a desirable hex, obtaining an encounter or a factory card, shoring up your resources or conducting a quick easily-won battle, etc.), and unless you need the associated bottom action then there’s likely a better move available to you.

Similarly, that production costs power once you’ve rolled out some workers and then continues to get more expensive from there, the magic is determining the calculus to minimize these hits, whether through an early enlistment to have neighbors supplement this loss via their upgrades or hitting enough early upgrades before committing to a production economy. Basically, once all workers have come out, in most situations you do not want to produce more than one or two times from that point onward. Losing a point, some power, and popularity (which can cause massive swings in final points) is simply too much a hit when compared with the benefit received.

I love the ever tension of the possibility of war that Scythe brings, for people can break your game by striking a turn or two before you’re ready to contemplate such conflict. Though, and this aspect of randomness can be a primary driver of pace, that combat cards can simply never align for you is brutal. Most games, its essential to have a five, or even two fives, thus it seems a touch flawed that bad luck can break you by forcing you down an inefficient path of bringing multiple mechs to a battle, though, to be fair, being able to play multiple combat cards is often crucial to ensure that you don’t become a punching bag for stars.

Another thing I love about the game is how dangerous factory cards are, for to bring your character to the factory means that someone could end the game by taking thus hex from you. Many games are won by attacking the center hex, and grabbing the last star alongside a claim of three or four hexes (should you have deposited a worker along the way), and if the opponent with the highest score is the victim then you’re staring down a massive swing of points.

When it comes to battles, the one main problem scythe has is that a wildcard player can throw off the balance of the dance. To be the person who moves after a player who makes questionable moves means that you’re in the prime position to profit from these mistakes. There are many ways to king make, whether by distributing your pieces at the wrong time, conducting reckless battles, leaving resources ripe for plunder, or giving a person resources via unnecessary bottom actions, you can essentially hand the game to a person.

To counter this detriment, I’m always willing to discuss strategy and options with people while playing, to some degree. The line between table talk and apprising people of info to prevent poor moves from upsetting the game can be fine, I recognize. Yet to allow poor moves to upset the course of the game unravels the game. It’s like in chess where a player left a queen easily taken. I’d rather have that move undone and maintain the integrity of the game then to churn through the mid or end game all while knowing the end is likely quite clear, and all due to an error – at that point, why even bother playing?