First place - it's what you strive for when playing a game, right?
Let's talk about a framework for the discussion. You call up some friends, and get together for an evening of hanging out. People might do a variety of things to hang out - go for dinner (out or in), see a movie, watch a DVD, hang out in a bar, see a rock show...maybe hang out and play some poker.
Board games serve a function similar to a "guy's night out for poker". Part of it is just hanging out, a loose competition, or maybe a slight edge putting some money out there...not so much for board games. It provides a social structure, a reason to hang out, and something to build an evening of conversation with.
As such, there's a certain amount of give in trying to win. You might be playing to win at any cost, but you'd probably put the breaks on anything that would destroy the group's hang-out dynamic. But generally it's agreed that you're trying to win at least a little.
Within a game, coming in first can be accomplished different ways in each game. Some add mechanics to make first place a little more dicey - we'll use Cleopatra and the Society of Architects as a model. It's a game put out by Days of Wonder, and each player attempts to be the best builder. Cleopatra loves builders. You have the occasional opportunity to cut some corners and take some corruption.
At the end of the game, she shows favor (you win!) if you're the best builder. Except before that happens, she kills off the most corrupt player. It's interesting because the game offers you risky paths (how much risk do you take to win), but offers a certain punishment to one unlucky person.
Some games offer other mechanics to trick the appearance of first place. Allowing multiple end-game conditions is common, but multiple win conditions is less so. Poker, you always win with a Royal Flush. Nothing beats it. If you read my earlier review of The Princes of Machu Picchu, I skipped over the end of the game. Usually the winner is determined by standard scoring, based on cards picked up during the game. Produce lots of shirts? Get goal cards that reward that. The players can also angle for it to end on a different scoring mechanism - all of a sudden, first place isn't first because it uses a new system to calculate winning.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
Meta-topic of Game Design (Educational Games)
There are lots of reasons to design games. People want to create things. Others want to make money. Some want to tackle games that have never been done, or re-create a classic. Educational games are made by the bucketful.
My topic for today is educational games. I read a "Games for Educators" newsletter awhile back, which discussed how games can help kids who are behind on their education catch back up. Kids can fall behind for a variety of reasons - difficult homes, poor schools, disabilities, disinterest...there are tons of reasons. My experience at Pokemon was a positive one - parents would come up to me, explaining how Pokemon led to a turn-around in their kid's desire to learn. In this case, Pokemon provided the motivation.
Personal tastes - I don't like the strictly "good for you because we say it is" concept. It seems heavy-handed and unfair. Learn how to count/multiply/divide/memorize things! Learn history through our narrow lens! The first part, if it's incidental to the natural game play, kids will learn it, and not see it as a ham-fisted approach that the teacher/parent is trying to force on them AGAIN. (There's only so many times that I tell my mom I don't want broccoli. She still forces the issue. Is she not listening, or just not caring about my opinion?) Learning history through someone else's direction means that your facts will be whatever they give you...no context of the greater whole.
I want to see educational board games teach teamwork, like in Space Alert or Pandemic. I want to see kids learn planning skills, similar to what you see in Macao and Through the Ages. I want to see social negotiation skills develop, that you find in Settlers of Catan. These are skills that are for the greater good of society that all kids learn these...and early, if possible.
There isn't anything horribly wrong with teaching math skills through games, it's just not efficient. Doing math problems out of their textbook will provide them with basic skills, especially if the kids do homework. My argument is that the teaching games could be teaching them things that they don't get in school...if kids develop leadership skills, it's more a result of accidents than planned activity.
Next time I'll come back with an example of educational board games - in the meantime, check out "Games for Educators" - their newsletter is pretty interesting. (Link on the side.)
Disclaimer: I actually like broccoli. It was peas that took me awhile to adapt to.
My topic for today is educational games. I read a "Games for Educators" newsletter awhile back, which discussed how games can help kids who are behind on their education catch back up. Kids can fall behind for a variety of reasons - difficult homes, poor schools, disabilities, disinterest...there are tons of reasons. My experience at Pokemon was a positive one - parents would come up to me, explaining how Pokemon led to a turn-around in their kid's desire to learn. In this case, Pokemon provided the motivation.
Personal tastes - I don't like the strictly "good for you because we say it is" concept. It seems heavy-handed and unfair. Learn how to count/multiply/divide/memorize things! Learn history through our narrow lens! The first part, if it's incidental to the natural game play, kids will learn it, and not see it as a ham-fisted approach that the teacher/parent is trying to force on them AGAIN. (There's only so many times that I tell my mom I don't want broccoli. She still forces the issue. Is she not listening, or just not caring about my opinion?) Learning history through someone else's direction means that your facts will be whatever they give you...no context of the greater whole.
I want to see educational board games teach teamwork, like in Space Alert or Pandemic. I want to see kids learn planning skills, similar to what you see in Macao and Through the Ages. I want to see social negotiation skills develop, that you find in Settlers of Catan. These are skills that are for the greater good of society that all kids learn these...and early, if possible.
There isn't anything horribly wrong with teaching math skills through games, it's just not efficient. Doing math problems out of their textbook will provide them with basic skills, especially if the kids do homework. My argument is that the teaching games could be teaching them things that they don't get in school...if kids develop leadership skills, it's more a result of accidents than planned activity.
Next time I'll come back with an example of educational board games - in the meantime, check out "Games for Educators" - their newsletter is pretty interesting. (Link on the side.)
Disclaimer: I actually like broccoli. It was peas that took me awhile to adapt to.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Abstracted Scoring
Games often determine a winner by some kind of scoring technique - usually something universal like victory points. Sometimes the VPs are hidden behind a screen, on the board itself, counted in cash, or hidden in plain sight.
How the scoring record is handled, matters a great deal. If it is something concrete that other players can constantly refer to, players can and will base their playing based on who is in the lead.
Scoring can be incomplete, due to unrevealed tricks or just not far enough in the game. As an example of not being far enough - in Agricola, each turn fixes some part of their farm up more. You can kind of keep up on how much they're missing and try and cut them off from the boars you think they need, but you can't accurately gauge their scoring potential. Likewise, some games reward sets of cards in play, and scoring things just on what you see before you doesn't address the unknown cards in your opponent's hidden information.
Abstracting the score tracking methods adds to that complexity.

Option 1 is the best place to be. You understand the scoring complexity, and you're already ahead.
Option 2 is second best position. You're not in first, but you understand how it can change. You can point out how someone else is winning.
Option 3 is great - you're in first, but you're not to the level of understanding how scoring works - someone could pull ahead, and you can't explain to other players when other players overtake you.
Option 4 is the worst - you're not necessarily sure where you are in scoring, but you're not in first.
Abstract scoring gives the Inexperienced Players a double hit - they're less sure how to win, and can't tell how well others are doing. (You can also apply a middle range, called the "Distracted experienced player" - knowing the rules, but distracted by the company of friends, girlfriend/boyfriend, teaching the game, etc.)
This isn't to say, abstract scoring is always bad - if a game allows for a quick advancement into being an experienced player, it evens things out a bit. But a dense, meaty game where it'll take 4-5 hours to play, adding abstract/hidden scoring creates a huge inequity gap between experienced and inexperienced players.
Example:
Through the Ages has a scoring track. It is accurate up until Age 3, where Wars and Goals kick in...new players could play the Advanced Game through Age 2 often, but Age 3 would always kill them against experienced players. Mitigation: a list of possible goals, and a thorough example of wars. (I usually recommend this at the end of Age 1.)
Abstracted scoring can also be a good mechanic for your game if it includes hidden elements. Experienced players might be able to guess what kind of information is hidden, but not the specific qualities of the hidden data. Again, experience will provide an edge, but in this case, they're stuck guessing how well the inexperienced player has caught on. (You can't guess their actions, because they haven't found the 'ideal' experienced playing style.)
Enjoy some games this weekend!
How the scoring record is handled, matters a great deal. If it is something concrete that other players can constantly refer to, players can and will base their playing based on who is in the lead.
Scoring can be incomplete, due to unrevealed tricks or just not far enough in the game. As an example of not being far enough - in Agricola, each turn fixes some part of their farm up more. You can kind of keep up on how much they're missing and try and cut them off from the boars you think they need, but you can't accurately gauge their scoring potential. Likewise, some games reward sets of cards in play, and scoring things just on what you see before you doesn't address the unknown cards in your opponent's hidden information.
Abstracting the score tracking methods adds to that complexity.

Option 1 is the best place to be. You understand the scoring complexity, and you're already ahead.
Option 2 is second best position. You're not in first, but you understand how it can change. You can point out how someone else is winning.
Option 3 is great - you're in first, but you're not to the level of understanding how scoring works - someone could pull ahead, and you can't explain to other players when other players overtake you.
Option 4 is the worst - you're not necessarily sure where you are in scoring, but you're not in first.
Abstract scoring gives the Inexperienced Players a double hit - they're less sure how to win, and can't tell how well others are doing. (You can also apply a middle range, called the "Distracted experienced player" - knowing the rules, but distracted by the company of friends, girlfriend/boyfriend, teaching the game, etc.)
This isn't to say, abstract scoring is always bad - if a game allows for a quick advancement into being an experienced player, it evens things out a bit. But a dense, meaty game where it'll take 4-5 hours to play, adding abstract/hidden scoring creates a huge inequity gap between experienced and inexperienced players.
Example:
Through the Ages has a scoring track. It is accurate up until Age 3, where Wars and Goals kick in...new players could play the Advanced Game through Age 2 often, but Age 3 would always kill them against experienced players. Mitigation: a list of possible goals, and a thorough example of wars. (I usually recommend this at the end of Age 1.)
Abstracted scoring can also be a good mechanic for your game if it includes hidden elements. Experienced players might be able to guess what kind of information is hidden, but not the specific qualities of the hidden data. Again, experience will provide an edge, but in this case, they're stuck guessing how well the inexperienced player has caught on. (You can't guess their actions, because they haven't found the 'ideal' experienced playing style.)
Enjoy some games this weekend!
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Playing second place to the win.
Let's play a 5-player game - first person to 10 points wins. In the game, you add 1 point to your score every round, and you nominate one person to take a -1 to their score. The -1 only happens if two or more give the same victim a negative (which is secret). Scores are secret, except each person knows his or her own score, and after the 5th round everyone knows who is in first if they are in first by themselves. It becomes more interesting when you don't assign someone a negative, you get +1/2 point. If two or more people sacrifice a half-point from their own score to the same victim, it's a -2 instead of a -1.
There's some social discussion that takes place. In the beginning, people are tossing around who should get the negative. Over time, people start knowing who is in first - negatives start flowing more accurately to the top players. First place will get hammered the most. If it drops down to a tie with someone, people still know that first place WAS first place, and may not know who else is tied.
This represents classic game playing - gang up on the winner. Some games can abstract the winner a bit, by tucking away bonus points for the end of the game, or by adding layers of gameplay allowing multiple routes to score...it makes it more of a climb-to-the-top race, as opposed to a zero-sum game where a person loses something for another one to gain.
Ganging up on the person in first place, you can slow them down long enough, for whoever was in second to catch them - you're trading one king for another. If you want to win, you have to have some exit strategy that lets you ALSO top the players ahead of you.
Let's say that you're *sure* that you're in second place on the 4th round. You have 6 more rounds of +1 point. If you're only a point or two behind first, you'll catch them early, and people will know that your points are high....first place will take the hits for you!
This kind of thing comes up in board games like Munchkin, where you can have a more direct influence on other players. Other games are similar - Citadels, Settlers of Catan...any game that relishes the table-talk aspect of games. No one usually picks on second place, unless there is revenge or king-making going on.
So second place WANTS first place to go down the most. But only at the right time, when second can move up for the win. If you hit 3rd or 4th, it'd be nice - less competitors nearby. You want them thinking they might be soon in the running - more likely to hit 1st place, instead of revenge for an earlier strike.
Yes, this is my suggestion - 2nd place hates the last place player. You toss negatives at them, and early on you convince others to as well. 1st place starts pulling away, and you have a Public Enemy #1, and you mostly back off.
***
This hypothetical game stems from an actual game of Caylus tonight - if you allow table-talk, one of the more interesting periods of the game is moving the provost. The players can pay game money move the provost to mess up the plans of other players, but it works best if you can align your interests for the turn with others. You can motivate people to contribute into hitting first place, if it's easy enough to describe.
The abstractness of the scoring benefits players with the most experience in the game, followed by strong analytics. For example, when playing Le Havre - I'd fear Guy A with 8 Steel, more than Guy B who has triple A's points in buildings. I could explain it better to new players. 60% of the Settlers of Catan development cards are Soldiers - important when you need to highlight the dangers of people trading the guy with 2 Soldiers in play some rock. As that's another topic, consider this a teaser!
There's some social discussion that takes place. In the beginning, people are tossing around who should get the negative. Over time, people start knowing who is in first - negatives start flowing more accurately to the top players. First place will get hammered the most. If it drops down to a tie with someone, people still know that first place WAS first place, and may not know who else is tied.
This represents classic game playing - gang up on the winner. Some games can abstract the winner a bit, by tucking away bonus points for the end of the game, or by adding layers of gameplay allowing multiple routes to score...it makes it more of a climb-to-the-top race, as opposed to a zero-sum game where a person loses something for another one to gain.
Ganging up on the person in first place, you can slow them down long enough, for whoever was in second to catch them - you're trading one king for another. If you want to win, you have to have some exit strategy that lets you ALSO top the players ahead of you.
Let's say that you're *sure* that you're in second place on the 4th round. You have 6 more rounds of +1 point. If you're only a point or two behind first, you'll catch them early, and people will know that your points are high....first place will take the hits for you!
This kind of thing comes up in board games like Munchkin, where you can have a more direct influence on other players. Other games are similar - Citadels, Settlers of Catan...any game that relishes the table-talk aspect of games. No one usually picks on second place, unless there is revenge or king-making going on.
So second place WANTS first place to go down the most. But only at the right time, when second can move up for the win. If you hit 3rd or 4th, it'd be nice - less competitors nearby. You want them thinking they might be soon in the running - more likely to hit 1st place, instead of revenge for an earlier strike.
Yes, this is my suggestion - 2nd place hates the last place player. You toss negatives at them, and early on you convince others to as well. 1st place starts pulling away, and you have a Public Enemy #1, and you mostly back off.
***
This hypothetical game stems from an actual game of Caylus tonight - if you allow table-talk, one of the more interesting periods of the game is moving the provost. The players can pay game money move the provost to mess up the plans of other players, but it works best if you can align your interests for the turn with others. You can motivate people to contribute into hitting first place, if it's easy enough to describe.
The abstractness of the scoring benefits players with the most experience in the game, followed by strong analytics. For example, when playing Le Havre - I'd fear Guy A with 8 Steel, more than Guy B who has triple A's points in buildings. I could explain it better to new players. 60% of the Settlers of Catan development cards are Soldiers - important when you need to highlight the dangers of people trading the guy with 2 Soldiers in play some rock. As that's another topic, consider this a teaser!
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Limited games...really?
I play in several game nights with a bunch of different friends, which leads to some power dynamics in game selection. The more games you play allows you a more discerning taste for what kinds of games you like. I can imagine this is like wine connoisseur's taste buds - this is my brain though!
Everyone can do this, simply by saying "No, I don't want to play Monopoly." The group shifts around, trying to find a game they can all agree on, or end up playing a game that is least hated. This isn't a new thing, and it happens often in gaming circles.
Why does this happen?
It could be a case of direct conflict. Bust out a Risk game, get some blood spilled...action! It's not for everyone - likewise, a non-conflict game might not find love in a group.
It can also be a preference to one's strength. One of my friends is extremely good at (and enjoys) games that give him a sweet spot of choice-calculation. If it's a game that swings a lot based on random effects, he's not going to enjoy it.
Limited knowledge. "There's only so many games I want to bother learning the rules and/or strategy for." It's a reasonable call - not everyone wants to learn the finer points of Through the Ages. (Tonight I played with a couple of friends who enjoyed it in the past. Both said at the end, that they liked the game, but couldn't compete very well because their knowledge of the cards and flow weren't strong enough...and that maybe we needed to play it more...or much less.)
What can you do about it?
Conflict is something that is there or not...it's rare that a game allows you to play both ways well. The best way to handle it is to organize specific groups for a specific kind of game night. Love conflict, come to this night. It only pays off if the group is willing to split up for nights they'll enjoy more. Rare, but it sometimes takes place.
I'll admit to like playing more games that I enjoy. It's also likely that I'll get better at it, as it gets more plays and more attention. If your gaming friends are hyper-competitive, taking time off from your favorite game might give them a fairer shot at beating you. (Can I actually recommend this? Don't play games you like?)
Finally, the last bit has some of my sympathy. Not everyone lives and breathes games. Rules unique to specific games, requires attention and continuous learning...people play games for fun. It's tough on one hand - by insisting that you play games A, B, or C, because you know them...it means that if other people have moved on from those games (hey, we've been playing those three games for the past year!)...maybe it's time that you learned a new game. On the other hand, it's not cool if every game night you show up for, shows off a new game with new rules. (Suck.)
I have a couple of closets full of games, but only a half dozen see play during a 6-month period. (Currently it's Le Havre, Race for the Galaxy, Through the Ages, and Dungeon Lords.) Limited games. Limited time. Limited time for people to learn. Oh, sadness.
Everyone can do this, simply by saying "No, I don't want to play Monopoly." The group shifts around, trying to find a game they can all agree on, or end up playing a game that is least hated. This isn't a new thing, and it happens often in gaming circles.
Why does this happen?
It could be a case of direct conflict. Bust out a Risk game, get some blood spilled...action! It's not for everyone - likewise, a non-conflict game might not find love in a group.
It can also be a preference to one's strength. One of my friends is extremely good at (and enjoys) games that give him a sweet spot of choice-calculation. If it's a game that swings a lot based on random effects, he's not going to enjoy it.
Limited knowledge. "There's only so many games I want to bother learning the rules and/or strategy for." It's a reasonable call - not everyone wants to learn the finer points of Through the Ages. (Tonight I played with a couple of friends who enjoyed it in the past. Both said at the end, that they liked the game, but couldn't compete very well because their knowledge of the cards and flow weren't strong enough...and that maybe we needed to play it more...or much less.)
What can you do about it?
Conflict is something that is there or not...it's rare that a game allows you to play both ways well. The best way to handle it is to organize specific groups for a specific kind of game night. Love conflict, come to this night. It only pays off if the group is willing to split up for nights they'll enjoy more. Rare, but it sometimes takes place.
I'll admit to like playing more games that I enjoy. It's also likely that I'll get better at it, as it gets more plays and more attention. If your gaming friends are hyper-competitive, taking time off from your favorite game might give them a fairer shot at beating you. (Can I actually recommend this? Don't play games you like?)
Finally, the last bit has some of my sympathy. Not everyone lives and breathes games. Rules unique to specific games, requires attention and continuous learning...people play games for fun. It's tough on one hand - by insisting that you play games A, B, or C, because you know them...it means that if other people have moved on from those games (hey, we've been playing those three games for the past year!)...maybe it's time that you learned a new game. On the other hand, it's not cool if every game night you show up for, shows off a new game with new rules. (Suck.)
I have a couple of closets full of games, but only a half dozen see play during a 6-month period. (Currently it's Le Havre, Race for the Galaxy, Through the Ages, and Dungeon Lords.) Limited games. Limited time. Limited time for people to learn. Oh, sadness.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Anosognosia, unknown unknowns, aka my experience in Macao
Anosognosia is a disability where part of the disability is the inability to perceive the disability itself. This article was spun off of reading the first in a series of posts about stupidity not being able to see itself. (Link on the side.)
Donald Rumsfield got harassed for talking about "unknown unknowns" in a press conference at one point - at the time, I was willing to perceive it as political mumbletypeg from a person I disagreed with on politics. Of course the unknown is unknown! Except when it's not, apparently.
Here's how it goes in games: everyone who's played with a deck of cards, knows what cards are in a standard 52-card deck. We don't know the top card - that's a known unknown. We can assign a probability to it, or guess 1 of 52 different cards...but we don't know it.
Unknown unknown is like learning a new game. The first time you played Monopoly, you had no idea what was in Chance or Community Chest. If you played Race for the Galaxy, you probably didn't learn all of the cards directly.
I played Macao for the first time yesterday. It's a dice game where resource generation is mostly the same for all players...just what they choose to generate from the same pool may or may not be different. I felt lost a little - not knowing any kind of strategy, but knowing the basic concepts of play is tough if you want to play well.
You want VP. (Technically it's PP, but victory points is what my head remade it as.) You get it by buying it, getting real estate next to each other, shipping well, or card combinations. The quick breakdown: Buy, Hacienda-reference, Puerto Rico-reference, San Juan/Race-reference. My tutor Steve painted it as a Puerto Rico-style game, but it's a lot different - PR has a lot of known knowns.
There are 12 turns, each turn has 2 cards that are known known. Another 4 (in a 4-player) from the top of the deck are unknowns. This is the unknown unknown for players who haven't seen the deck...for those that have played, it's a known unknown - you just don't know what's coming.
After players choose a building to be drafted, the table rolls 6 dice of different colors. They're all six-sided dice, representing different colors of goods. The goods are used to activate buildings, build buildings, or buy real estate. You get to choose 2 colors - the higher the number, the more cubes...but you also don't get them for that many turns. (6 cubes is great, but you get them in 6 turns...how efficient are you going to be able to plan for it?) It's really one turn less...if you choose 1, you'll get that one cube in the same turn. This is a known unknown.
The dice make it tough to plan. I spent half of my game trying to get a red and two purple cubes show up on the same turn. (I ended up doing a huge kabuki dance on the 2nd to last turn to get two purple cubes.)
As a first time player, I couldn't know what was in the stack of random cards - how many game end bonus cards? What different effects could there be? What color combinations would I need? The deck is large - I'd guess about 100. You'll only see 36 at most in a game, and you won't know when it will show up or if you'll be in a position to get it. (Pretty random I'd guess, even for expert players.)
So, you won't be able to know what buildings to draft in the beginning. You might be able to draft good midrange cards to supplement the early cards you have randomly chosen. You also won't know what numbers will be on the dice until after you've drafted for the round. Tough loves.
I primarily focused on avoiding penalties - if you don't have any cubes to spend on a turn, it means you do nothing and you get a -3VP chit. If you don't build your buildings fast enough, you also take a chit. And finally, any buildings you drafted but didn't build is also another -3. I had -6 at the end from one unfinished building, and one turn of no actions (whoops!).
I did find a couple of buildings that helped me in the mid-game, but I think everyone had that. I didn't worry to much about actions 2-3 turns away...they were more hopeful than anything else. Shipping takes a lot of cubes to move them - I ended up saving that until the end of the game (I had the two cheapest paper...it would have been expensive for someone to move their ship, pay a lot for the final paper, just to get a some points, and deny me some as well.)
Finally, with the die rolls I chose a short and a long roll. (Hopefully a 3 and a 6.) occasionally it was jostled around, so I could have certain colors in certain amounts show up at the same time. This is really basic. The long roll let me move ships more efficiently, but it meant it was too far to be useful in planning more than that.
Macao definitely has a lot of random elements to it - each of the cards are unique. Dice are difficult to forecast, and players are jumping around trying to maximize the gains or minimize their losses - how much of their seemingly chaotic responses going to affect your built-out game?
Overall, I want to play it another 6-10 times.
How much do the known unknowns affect play?
How much skill comes into play with the degrees of known unknown from the cards and dice?
Is there time for player interaction, with the amount of other stuff going on?
It's interesting - definitely not a heavy game due to the lack of accurate future planning, but it is kind of fun trying to figure things out on the fly.
Finally, unknown unknowns in gaming: this occurs in many games, primarily during the first game(s). After you've seen the game played several times, things are reduced to merely known unknowns. It would be challenging to make a game that consists of unknown unknowns every game...hmm...
Donald Rumsfield got harassed for talking about "unknown unknowns" in a press conference at one point - at the time, I was willing to perceive it as political mumbletypeg from a person I disagreed with on politics. Of course the unknown is unknown! Except when it's not, apparently.
Here's how it goes in games: everyone who's played with a deck of cards, knows what cards are in a standard 52-card deck. We don't know the top card - that's a known unknown. We can assign a probability to it, or guess 1 of 52 different cards...but we don't know it.
Unknown unknown is like learning a new game. The first time you played Monopoly, you had no idea what was in Chance or Community Chest. If you played Race for the Galaxy, you probably didn't learn all of the cards directly.
I played Macao for the first time yesterday. It's a dice game where resource generation is mostly the same for all players...just what they choose to generate from the same pool may or may not be different. I felt lost a little - not knowing any kind of strategy, but knowing the basic concepts of play is tough if you want to play well.
You want VP. (Technically it's PP, but victory points is what my head remade it as.) You get it by buying it, getting real estate next to each other, shipping well, or card combinations. The quick breakdown: Buy, Hacienda-reference, Puerto Rico-reference, San Juan/Race-reference. My tutor Steve painted it as a Puerto Rico-style game, but it's a lot different - PR has a lot of known knowns.
There are 12 turns, each turn has 2 cards that are known known. Another 4 (in a 4-player) from the top of the deck are unknowns. This is the unknown unknown for players who haven't seen the deck...for those that have played, it's a known unknown - you just don't know what's coming.
After players choose a building to be drafted, the table rolls 6 dice of different colors. They're all six-sided dice, representing different colors of goods. The goods are used to activate buildings, build buildings, or buy real estate. You get to choose 2 colors - the higher the number, the more cubes...but you also don't get them for that many turns. (6 cubes is great, but you get them in 6 turns...how efficient are you going to be able to plan for it?) It's really one turn less...if you choose 1, you'll get that one cube in the same turn. This is a known unknown.
The dice make it tough to plan. I spent half of my game trying to get a red and two purple cubes show up on the same turn. (I ended up doing a huge kabuki dance on the 2nd to last turn to get two purple cubes.)
As a first time player, I couldn't know what was in the stack of random cards - how many game end bonus cards? What different effects could there be? What color combinations would I need? The deck is large - I'd guess about 100. You'll only see 36 at most in a game, and you won't know when it will show up or if you'll be in a position to get it. (Pretty random I'd guess, even for expert players.)
So, you won't be able to know what buildings to draft in the beginning. You might be able to draft good midrange cards to supplement the early cards you have randomly chosen. You also won't know what numbers will be on the dice until after you've drafted for the round. Tough loves.
I primarily focused on avoiding penalties - if you don't have any cubes to spend on a turn, it means you do nothing and you get a -3VP chit. If you don't build your buildings fast enough, you also take a chit. And finally, any buildings you drafted but didn't build is also another -3. I had -6 at the end from one unfinished building, and one turn of no actions (whoops!).
I did find a couple of buildings that helped me in the mid-game, but I think everyone had that. I didn't worry to much about actions 2-3 turns away...they were more hopeful than anything else. Shipping takes a lot of cubes to move them - I ended up saving that until the end of the game (I had the two cheapest paper...it would have been expensive for someone to move their ship, pay a lot for the final paper, just to get a some points, and deny me some as well.)
Finally, with the die rolls I chose a short and a long roll. (Hopefully a 3 and a 6.) occasionally it was jostled around, so I could have certain colors in certain amounts show up at the same time. This is really basic. The long roll let me move ships more efficiently, but it meant it was too far to be useful in planning more than that.
Macao definitely has a lot of random elements to it - each of the cards are unique. Dice are difficult to forecast, and players are jumping around trying to maximize the gains or minimize their losses - how much of their seemingly chaotic responses going to affect your built-out game?
Overall, I want to play it another 6-10 times.
How much do the known unknowns affect play?
How much skill comes into play with the degrees of known unknown from the cards and dice?
Is there time for player interaction, with the amount of other stuff going on?
It's interesting - definitely not a heavy game due to the lack of accurate future planning, but it is kind of fun trying to figure things out on the fly.
Finally, unknown unknowns in gaming: this occurs in many games, primarily during the first game(s). After you've seen the game played several times, things are reduced to merely known unknowns. It would be challenging to make a game that consists of unknown unknowns every game...hmm...
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Not quite game design, but people design - Yes!
I like game design a fair amount - when you design games, you also have to get in the head of the people you're designing the game for. How do you handle player conflicts? What parts can lead to player disagreements, even on what was just going on?
This morning I woke up to a memory of a past organized play experience, and spent the next hour writing down the words. Hope you enjoy!
Regionalism, or How Canadians Learned to Love Jimmer
I was a level 3 Judge in the Magic program for about 3 and a half years, at the start of the certification era. That time saw the evolvement from the ‘old hands’ method of judging from authority to a more modern ‘the rules you play with at home, are the rules you should have everywhere’. During that period, I operated as the standing head judge at the Wizards of the Coast Game Center, sharing the duty with Matt Hyra in the first part. The tournament area stayed open about 360 days of the year – lots of tournaments, and there a good mix of tournament judging staff.
The highest level of events that level 3 judges ran were Pro Tour Qualifiers (PTQs). You want on the Pro Tour, for whatever reason? Win a PTQ, get a slot in the next PT. It brought out competitors from everywhere. In Seattle, you would often get players from Oregon and British Columbia coming in, as well as random traveling Magic players coming through.
Over several years, you got to know the regular Pro Tour players, even if you didn’t go yourself. I didn’t know how many tour points they had, or much money they had won. But you could tell – there were rivalries amongst competitive players, tricks of the trade they all knew, and you could see them hanging out with each other between rounds catching up on things. To be honest, there was an unwritten rule in the Magic community that the PT was like doing time in prison. You come out of prison, having been schooled in all of the dirty tricks of the old hands. Loops of logic, how-to methods on working over your opponents and judges – a veritable bag of tricks.
It worked pretty well for expert players. At a time where the highest judges relied on their absolute authority to deal with players, someone only had to con one person in the end. Two, if you count the opponent. Not all judges were known for their rules knowledge, or judgement skills…getting someone with both wasn’t always in the cards. Being an experienced player who had been around the block, you tried to find an angle. If the judge is weak on game rules, you find ambiguities there. If the judge feels inadequate in mental games, use some logical fallacies. But always argue your point, hopefully in a way that shuts down your opponent’s argument, settling the question in the judge’s mind.
There isn’t a way to be a perfect judge, but there are some qualities I thought I was good at. I spent a lot of time reading rules questions every week. On the floor, I was willing to be wrong – listening to other people talk when you know you’re absolutely right was pretty uninteresting. As people would drop out of the tournament, finding out how they perceived the event flow was a lesson in humility sometimes. It was also heartening, listening to them talk about their good experiences as well.
Oh, the flattery. You’re judging events every day of work. There are regulars, who make you feel like a regular on Cheers. That they were a regular on Cheers. They confide in you about their problems and victories – who doesn’t want to be friendly? The danger for judges is that it can lead to favoritism, be it beneficial or punitive. Get in bad with a judge, maybe next time they won’t even listen to you…lose your next judging call. Were you on the Pro Tour? Hope the judge isn’t biased against strongly competitive players.
So you had to watch out for the honest flattery and the dishonest parts, and keep your head clear of people you liked and disliked. If you can imagine, it shapes your habits after several years. A portion of my brain was always running analysis of motives (theirs and mine) during every interaction…emotionless as the rest of my personality kept going, hiding the internal processes from casual view. Robot Jimmer, running subprocesses, even when not working!
This story starts and ends fairly quickly. It was a PTQ, one day at the tournament center. Players call for a judge, but quickly ask for the head judge. (This is somewhat bad style – let the original judge gain some experience, and if you aren’t comfortable with it, ask to appeal to the head judge.) As it was, both players were known to each other, having played on the PT. Rivals, but not heated rivals. They had been arguing over a grayish area – neither one had been specific on what they had been doing as actions, and both of them had reasonable arguments on why they were right.
So I arrive to the table with the players arguing, each player convinced they were right and the other player was trying to get some kind of tricky edge on their opponent. They’re both a little pissed emotionally at this point – I’d like to think they were both decent people outside of the match…my subprocessor was running, so it didn’t matter too much. You quiet the spectators, if any. You listen to both sides fairly, stopping the opponent from interrupting. You listen to rebuttals. You ask non-leading questions of each participant. You check for any external factors. In the end, the match has to continue – hopefully with both players being satisfied with the ruling, but not required.
A & B are rivals. A is from Canada. B is mostly local to Seattle tournaments. Both have played in multiple events at the Game Center – stubborn, but top-quality players. It takes about 5 minutes to learn the details of the problem, sifting through the extra casual and non-casual manipulations of conversation. I come up with a fair answer – nothing will satisfy both players…they each want the ruling to be 100% in their favor. Neither one gets what they want, but my standard thing is “We’ve had enough discussion, and your match needs to continue.” If they want to continue trying to score points, either to change your mind or sway you for the next time – I let them go for about half a minute, and then tell the player to look me up after the match.
This usually lets them feel good that the judge doesn’t have any hard feelings about it, and that maybe next time the judge will make a ruling in their favor. I wonder how much this is like raising a kid some days – saying not now, but later…only to have the child forget about it, but having been pacified at the time. It’s not limited to children, obviously. Fully functioning adults could decide later that they’re fine, it’s not a big deal now they’ve had time to process the data.
Anyhow, both A & B continue the argument with each other and myself. It’s bad style again, but they perceive that this game could knock themselves or the other out of the event – don’t pass quietly into the night. I allow for a little bit of venting, but put my foot down again. Arguments can distract other players and after awhile it can become uselesss noise. They continue to argue. I lead off with “You both need to get back to the match and quiet down, this is final.” Both players begin opening their mouth to continue, looking at me. B closes his mouth abruptly. He’s either more perceptive than A, or knows my judging habits better. A closes his mouth, and then restarts the argument.
Player A gets a quick warning of unsportsmanlike conduct, and the next words out of my mouth will be game loss if necessary. It’s a jolt of adrenaline for the judge and the player – the judge has gone from a passive observer to an active role in the game. The player hopefully realizes their danger and reins in their responses. A was cognizant of what was going on, and quickly said it’s not necessary.
In thoughts, going back to the desk, I had to consider what went on. Relying on your instincts is a trap sometimes, where you can be swayed by hidden currents. Relying on logic opens you up to traps of fallacies. Did B have an advantage because he knew he had crossed the line because he knew my tells better? How did judges handle A up in Canada – I can’t know. I enjoyed the Canadian players. Heck, Canadians are pretty enjoyable to hang out with. How much of this confusion stems from differences in culture?
Not only did we have some light differences in culture, there’s always the question of regional favoritism. Is the judge ruling in favor of the US player, over Canada? Is the opponent a personal friend of the judge? A regular? Unfair!
In the end, I was satisfied with my response. A & B both had the same chances to avoid penalties. There was a flurry of Canadians coming up between rounds, trying to find out what was going on, and checking for judge bias. After hearing the story, some thought I had made a mistake by being so nice up to that point – A must’ve been surprised that I could go from pleasant to strict so quickly! Apparently some judges were so strict with A from his antics up north, that they called him on such things immediately.
Wrapping up the story, A did come up several times during the event to chat. As mentioned earlier, I do think he was a decent guy. While we still disagreed on the ruling, there didn’t appear to be any long-term trust issues. And while I spent a lot of time that day, discussing judging with Canadians, I think it was the day they learned to trust me to be fair…which is pretty rewarding, when you think about it. Thanks, guys!
This morning I woke up to a memory of a past organized play experience, and spent the next hour writing down the words. Hope you enjoy!
Regionalism, or How Canadians Learned to Love Jimmer
I was a level 3 Judge in the Magic program for about 3 and a half years, at the start of the certification era. That time saw the evolvement from the ‘old hands’ method of judging from authority to a more modern ‘the rules you play with at home, are the rules you should have everywhere’. During that period, I operated as the standing head judge at the Wizards of the Coast Game Center, sharing the duty with Matt Hyra in the first part. The tournament area stayed open about 360 days of the year – lots of tournaments, and there a good mix of tournament judging staff.
The highest level of events that level 3 judges ran were Pro Tour Qualifiers (PTQs). You want on the Pro Tour, for whatever reason? Win a PTQ, get a slot in the next PT. It brought out competitors from everywhere. In Seattle, you would often get players from Oregon and British Columbia coming in, as well as random traveling Magic players coming through.
Over several years, you got to know the regular Pro Tour players, even if you didn’t go yourself. I didn’t know how many tour points they had, or much money they had won. But you could tell – there were rivalries amongst competitive players, tricks of the trade they all knew, and you could see them hanging out with each other between rounds catching up on things. To be honest, there was an unwritten rule in the Magic community that the PT was like doing time in prison. You come out of prison, having been schooled in all of the dirty tricks of the old hands. Loops of logic, how-to methods on working over your opponents and judges – a veritable bag of tricks.
It worked pretty well for expert players. At a time where the highest judges relied on their absolute authority to deal with players, someone only had to con one person in the end. Two, if you count the opponent. Not all judges were known for their rules knowledge, or judgement skills…getting someone with both wasn’t always in the cards. Being an experienced player who had been around the block, you tried to find an angle. If the judge is weak on game rules, you find ambiguities there. If the judge feels inadequate in mental games, use some logical fallacies. But always argue your point, hopefully in a way that shuts down your opponent’s argument, settling the question in the judge’s mind.
There isn’t a way to be a perfect judge, but there are some qualities I thought I was good at. I spent a lot of time reading rules questions every week. On the floor, I was willing to be wrong – listening to other people talk when you know you’re absolutely right was pretty uninteresting. As people would drop out of the tournament, finding out how they perceived the event flow was a lesson in humility sometimes. It was also heartening, listening to them talk about their good experiences as well.
Oh, the flattery. You’re judging events every day of work. There are regulars, who make you feel like a regular on Cheers. That they were a regular on Cheers. They confide in you about their problems and victories – who doesn’t want to be friendly? The danger for judges is that it can lead to favoritism, be it beneficial or punitive. Get in bad with a judge, maybe next time they won’t even listen to you…lose your next judging call. Were you on the Pro Tour? Hope the judge isn’t biased against strongly competitive players.
So you had to watch out for the honest flattery and the dishonest parts, and keep your head clear of people you liked and disliked. If you can imagine, it shapes your habits after several years. A portion of my brain was always running analysis of motives (theirs and mine) during every interaction…emotionless as the rest of my personality kept going, hiding the internal processes from casual view. Robot Jimmer, running subprocesses, even when not working!
This story starts and ends fairly quickly. It was a PTQ, one day at the tournament center. Players call for a judge, but quickly ask for the head judge. (This is somewhat bad style – let the original judge gain some experience, and if you aren’t comfortable with it, ask to appeal to the head judge.) As it was, both players were known to each other, having played on the PT. Rivals, but not heated rivals. They had been arguing over a grayish area – neither one had been specific on what they had been doing as actions, and both of them had reasonable arguments on why they were right.
So I arrive to the table with the players arguing, each player convinced they were right and the other player was trying to get some kind of tricky edge on their opponent. They’re both a little pissed emotionally at this point – I’d like to think they were both decent people outside of the match…my subprocessor was running, so it didn’t matter too much. You quiet the spectators, if any. You listen to both sides fairly, stopping the opponent from interrupting. You listen to rebuttals. You ask non-leading questions of each participant. You check for any external factors. In the end, the match has to continue – hopefully with both players being satisfied with the ruling, but not required.
A & B are rivals. A is from Canada. B is mostly local to Seattle tournaments. Both have played in multiple events at the Game Center – stubborn, but top-quality players. It takes about 5 minutes to learn the details of the problem, sifting through the extra casual and non-casual manipulations of conversation. I come up with a fair answer – nothing will satisfy both players…they each want the ruling to be 100% in their favor. Neither one gets what they want, but my standard thing is “We’ve had enough discussion, and your match needs to continue.” If they want to continue trying to score points, either to change your mind or sway you for the next time – I let them go for about half a minute, and then tell the player to look me up after the match.
This usually lets them feel good that the judge doesn’t have any hard feelings about it, and that maybe next time the judge will make a ruling in their favor. I wonder how much this is like raising a kid some days – saying not now, but later…only to have the child forget about it, but having been pacified at the time. It’s not limited to children, obviously. Fully functioning adults could decide later that they’re fine, it’s not a big deal now they’ve had time to process the data.
Anyhow, both A & B continue the argument with each other and myself. It’s bad style again, but they perceive that this game could knock themselves or the other out of the event – don’t pass quietly into the night. I allow for a little bit of venting, but put my foot down again. Arguments can distract other players and after awhile it can become uselesss noise. They continue to argue. I lead off with “You both need to get back to the match and quiet down, this is final.” Both players begin opening their mouth to continue, looking at me. B closes his mouth abruptly. He’s either more perceptive than A, or knows my judging habits better. A closes his mouth, and then restarts the argument.
Player A gets a quick warning of unsportsmanlike conduct, and the next words out of my mouth will be game loss if necessary. It’s a jolt of adrenaline for the judge and the player – the judge has gone from a passive observer to an active role in the game. The player hopefully realizes their danger and reins in their responses. A was cognizant of what was going on, and quickly said it’s not necessary.
In thoughts, going back to the desk, I had to consider what went on. Relying on your instincts is a trap sometimes, where you can be swayed by hidden currents. Relying on logic opens you up to traps of fallacies. Did B have an advantage because he knew he had crossed the line because he knew my tells better? How did judges handle A up in Canada – I can’t know. I enjoyed the Canadian players. Heck, Canadians are pretty enjoyable to hang out with. How much of this confusion stems from differences in culture?
Not only did we have some light differences in culture, there’s always the question of regional favoritism. Is the judge ruling in favor of the US player, over Canada? Is the opponent a personal friend of the judge? A regular? Unfair!
In the end, I was satisfied with my response. A & B both had the same chances to avoid penalties. There was a flurry of Canadians coming up between rounds, trying to find out what was going on, and checking for judge bias. After hearing the story, some thought I had made a mistake by being so nice up to that point – A must’ve been surprised that I could go from pleasant to strict so quickly! Apparently some judges were so strict with A from his antics up north, that they called him on such things immediately.
Wrapping up the story, A did come up several times during the event to chat. As mentioned earlier, I do think he was a decent guy. While we still disagreed on the ruling, there didn’t appear to be any long-term trust issues. And while I spent a lot of time that day, discussing judging with Canadians, I think it was the day they learned to trust me to be fair…which is pretty rewarding, when you think about it. Thanks, guys!
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