Prismata Release

About a year ago, I reviewed a game called Prismata. It was quite rightly pointed out to me that my review mostly consisted of talking about StarCraft.

Woops.

I also promised to reblog that review when the game actually released to remind you all to go play it (seriously, a year later, it is still basically the only game I play).

Instead of reblogging that previous post, I’ll do a little overview to give you a feel for the game. I’m going to warn you that the game looks way more complicated than it is. If you go through the tutorial in the game, it will start you with very simple scenarios and introduce the concepts one at a time. By the time you play an actual game, nothing about it will feel overwhelming.

I will also warn you that it is truly its own thing. All comparisons are misleading. I’ve seen “turn-based StarCraft,” “Dominion, but your whole hand is on the board every turn,” and “Fischer Chess960 without board positioning.” Uh, yeah, none of those capture Prismata quite right.

Here is a match I’ve started vs a bot:

First important thing to note: it’s not a card game! It looks like a card game, but it’s not. I might have to reiterate this point later. You don’t have a hand. You don’t have a deck. There is no drawing of cards. Think of the squares on the screen as “tiles” or “units.”

If you look at the bottom left of the screen, I have: 0 gold, 0 green, 0 blue, 0 red, 0 energy (the lightning bolt). These are the resources used to buy things.

The bot went first, and now I’ll go:

Now it says I have 2 gold. This is because I clicked my drones to make gold. I have 7 drones. This made 7 gold. Then I spent 5 of those to make a Blastforge that has appeared yellowish at the bottom (pro-tip: this is a bad play). If you look on the left, this is the fourth item down the list and it clearly says “5 gold.” I also now have “2 energy” created by the engineers.

This blastforge will start giving me “1 blue” to spend every turn. I won’t keep going through turns like this. I did this to illustrate that this is more of an economy building type of game. It’s not a card game! I buy units to put on the board. I never keep units in my hand.

This brings me to the first, and possibly most important strategic concept of Prismata: there is no hidden information. There is no draw luck. The game works closer to chess than a card game because of this.

Unlike chess, every game will be different. There’s a base set of units that stays the same. Then there’s a pool of units from which a random set is pulled for the game. After a while, you’ll know every unit in this pool, so it’s how they combine that’s the interesting part.

Okay, so I’ve said there’s an economy component, but what the heck do you do? What’s the goal?

The goal is to destroy all of your opponent’s units. This is different from chess (“kill” the king, a specific unit). This is different from Magic/Hearthstone/generic card game (bring the opponent’s life total to 0). This is different from “Victory Point” games (have the most of something).

In general, units that cost blue are good defenders; units that cost red are strong attackers; and units that cost green are…well, a mix?

Like all great games, it’s impossible to get any understanding from someone telling you about it, but I’ll try to give a you a “feel” for a small fraction of the types of strategic decisions/trade-offs you’ll be making in a match.

Economy:

Drones produce money to buy things, so there’s a sense in which buying drones is an exponential growth process (though not really for technical reasons having to do with energy and finite supply). The more money you have, the more you can buy.

It’s tempting to try to grow your economy to the max, then you just win, right? Sort of, but economy takes a few turns to actually pay off (a drone costs 3, so it takes 3 turns to pay for itself). This means your opponent could make almost no economy, rush a bunch of strong attackers, and kill everything before any of it pays for itself.

Wait, so why not skip all economy and just make attackers? This sometimes works, but mostly it’s because your opponent could make a tiny bit more economy than you and ride it out long enough to gain the advantage.

There’s a sense in which economy size is the fundamental decision you’ll make each game. It’s really fascinating, because depending on the random units you’re playing with, low economy games are the way to win or high economy games are the way to win. Often, you must find the right balance in the middle.

Tech:

Tech refers to whether you want to be making green, red, or blue. New players tend to want everything. If you’re making all three colors, you have a ton of flexibility, so you can buy anything to counter what your opponent is doing, right?

It seems that way at first, but remember, it costs money to make a blastforge to produce blue. If you spend the money, it’s wasteful to not spend the blue. To put it another way, if you don’t spend the blue resource, you may as well have spent the money on something that goes to use right away. More succinctly: the more efficient player tends to get an advantage.

Another fundamental decision you’ll have to make each game is which units you want to buy and how to get the tech units to make the right colors to buy those. There’s a lot of interesting strategy with this, because as soon as you or your opponent buys a tech building, it gives away information about what units you want. There is a trade-off: tech gives the opponent information, but it lets you buy attacking units first.

Attack/Defense:

This is the meat and potatoes of any given turn, so I’m not going to be able to even scratch the surface.

Basically, Prismata has units that can absorb damage (think Magic, where a blocker that doesn’t die has their full toughness the next turn), but there are also units that permanently take damage (think Hearthstone or really any modern online card game).

Deciding how to distribute damage is one of the main things you’ll do in the midgame.

Prismata has units that always attack but also units that only attack when clicked (usually at the cost of being able to defend). There are also units that can be targeted (in other words, you have no choice how to distribute the damage with respect to them). Some units can block the turn they come out, while others have to wait a turn.

All of these differences make really interesting tactical decisions. To give you the flavor of one. There is a unit that has 4 health and permanently takes damage. It can’t attack, but it can be sacrificed to do a burst of 4 damage.

So you might want to set up your turn so that it takes 3 damage the turn it comes out, then can be sacrificed the following turn to deal damage. This way you get the maximum value from it.

Conclusion:

Well, that doesn’t even begin to describe how fascinating this game is. You’ll have to try it to get a real feel for it. Do not be scared off if this sounded overwhelming. I’d say it’s easier to learn than chess, and at least as hard to master.

Do not be afraid of the Early Access label on Steam. It’s been developed for eight (?) years, and it’s been played at a very high level by competitive players for several years. It is quite balanced and polished right now.

Get it Here!

It does cost money on Steam right now. This is for Early Access and the solo content (there’s a whole story and missions to teach you the game, plus a ton of individual tactics puzzles to let you work on your skills). I’ve been assured the game will be 100% free to play once it leaves Early Access, so if you want to wait for that, it is an option.

(Also, if a small number of people ask for a key in comments or something, I can maybe, possibly, probably get you one. I will not guarantee this, though, and you would not have access to the solo content).

(Anti-)Disclaimer: I was not a Kickstarter backer for the game. I have had absolutely no contact with the developers of the game with regard to this review. I am receiving nothing for this review. This review has not been influenced by any forces except my own experience with it.

Become a Patron!

I’ve come to a crossroads recently.

I write a blog post every week. It takes time. The last one was close to 2,000 words and required reading a book. For the past three years I’ve been writing full time, and so blogging can be a burden that cuts into this with no monetary rewards.

This blog is now over nine years old, and I’ve done nothing to monetize it. I think this is mostly a good thing. I do not and will not run any sort of advertisements. Even upon the release of my first book, I only did a brief mention and then no promotion afterward (and as far as I can tell, this converted to literally 0 sales).

I want this to be about the blog content. I do not want it to turn into some secret ad campaign to sell my work. I can think of many authors who have done this, and I ended up unsubscribing from them.

This brings me to the point. Putting this much work into something is not really sustainable anymore without some sort of support, so I’ve started a Patreon page. As you’ll see, my initial goal is quite modest and will barely cover the expenses to run my blog and website. But without anything, I will slowly phase out writing here regularly.

If this concept is new to you, Patreon is a site dedicated to supporting creative work. Patrons can pledge money to support people creating content they like. It can be as little as $1 a month (or as many podcasters say: “less than a coffee a month”), and in return, you not only help the site to keep running, you’ll receive bonus content as well. Because of the scattered nature of my posts, I know a lot of you are probably scared to support, because you might not get content of interest for the month. Some of you like the math and tune out for the writing advice. Some of you like the critical analysis of philosophy and wish the articles on game mechanics didn’t exist. For consistency, I’ll only put out something that would be tagged “literature” for the vast majority of posts from now on. This means once a month or less and probably never two months in a row (i.e. six per year spread out equally). This “literature” tag includes, but is not limited to, most posts on philosophy that touch on narrative or language somehow, editing rules, writing advice, book reviews, story structure analysis, examining pro’s prose, movie reviews, and so on. Again, the core original vision for the blog included game and music and math posts, but these will be intentionally fewer now. If you check the past few years, I basically already did this anyway, but this way you know what you’re signing up for. I think people are drawn to my literature analysis because I’m in a unique position. This month I’m about to submit my fifth romance novel under a pseudonym. This is the “commercial” work I do for money, and it’s going reasonably well. I’ve come to understand the ins and outs of genre fiction through this experience, and it has been a valuable part of learning the craft of writing for me. My main work under my real name is much more literary. I’ve put out one novel of literary fiction. Next month I’ll put out my second “real” novel, which is firmly in the fantasy genre but hopefully doesn’t give up high-quality prose. These two opposite experiences have given me an eye for what makes story work and what makes prose work. All over this blog I’ve shown that I love experimental writing, but I’ve also been one of the few people to unapologetically call out BS where I see it. As you can imagine, writing several genre novels and a “real” novel every year makes it tough to justify this weekly blog for the fun of it. If I haven’t convinced you that the quality here is worth supporting, I’ll give you one last tidbit. I get to see incoming links thanks to WordPress, so I know that more than one graduate seminar and MFA program has linked to various posts I’ve made on critical theory and difficult literature. Since I’m not in those classes, I can’t be sure of the purpose, but graduate programs tend to only suggest reading things that are worth reading. There just isn’t enough time for anything else. I know, I know. Print is dead. You’d rather support people making podcasts or videos, but writing is the easiest way to get my ideas across. I listen to plenty of podcasts on writing, but none of them get to dig into things like prose style. The format isn’t conducive to it. One needs to see the text under analysis to really get the commentary on it. Don’t panic. I won’t decrease blog production through the end of 2017, but I’m setting an initial goal of$100 per month. We’ll go from there, because even that might not be a sustainable level long-term. If it isn’t met, I’ll have to adjust accordingly. It’s just one of those unfortunate business decisions. Sometimes firing someone is the right move, even if they’re your friend.

I’ve set up a bunch supporter rewards, and I think anyone interested in the blog will find them well worth it. I’m being far more generous than most Patreon pages making similar content. Check out the page for details. The rewards involve seeing me put into practice what I talk about with video of me editing a current project with live commentary; extra fiction I write for free; free copies of my novels; extra “Examining Pro’s Prose” articles; and more!

I hope you find the content here worth supporting (I’m bracing myself for the humiliation of getting \$2 a month and knowing it’s from my parents). If you don’t feel you can support the blog, feel free to continue reading and commenting for free. The community here has always been excellent.

I thought I’d get away from critiques and reviews and serious stuff like that for a week and talk about a cool (or scary) development in AI research. I won’t talk about the details, so don’t get scared off yet. This will be more of a high level history of what happened. Many of my readers are probably unaware this even exists.

Let’s start with the basics. Go is arguably the oldest game in existence. And despite appearances, it’s one of the simplest. Each player takes a turn placing a stone on the intersections of a 19×19 board. If you surround a stone or group of stones of your opponent, you capture them (remove them from the board). If you completely surround other intersections, that counts as your “territory.”

The game ends when both sides pass (no more moves can be made to capture or surround territory). The side that has more territory + captures wins. There’s no memorization of how pieces move. There’s no rules to learn (except ko, which basically says you can’t do an infinite loop causing the game to never end). It’s really that simple.

And despite the simplicity, humans have continued to get better and produce more and more advanced theory about the game for over 2,500 years.

Let’s compare Go to Chess for a moment, because most people in the West think of Chess as the gold standard of strategy games. One could study chess for a whole lifetime and still pale in comparison to the top Grand Masters. When Deep Blue beat Kasparov in 1997, it felt like a blow to humanity.

If you’re at all in touch with the Chess world, you will have succumb to the computer overlords by now. We can measure the time since Deep Blue’s victory in decades. The AI have improved so much since then that it is commonly accepted across the whole community that a human will never be able to win against a machine at Chess ever again.

A few years ago, we could at least have said, “But wait, there’s still Go.” To someone who doesn’t have much experience with Go, it might be surprising to learn that computers weren’t even close to winning against a human a few years ago.

Here’s the rough idea why. Chess can be won by pure computation of future moves. There is no doubt that humans use pattern recognition and positional judgment and basic principles when playing, but none of that stands a chance against a machine that just reads out every single combination of the next 20 moves and then picks the best one.

Go, on the other hand, has pattern recognition as a core element of the strategy. One might try to argue that this is only because the calculations are so large, no human could ever do them. Once we have powerful enough computers, a computer could win by pure forward calculation.

As far as I understand it, this is not true. And it was the major problem in making an AI strong enough to win. Even at a theoretical level, having the computer look ahead a dozen moves would generate more combinations than the number of atoms in the known universe. A dozen moves in Chess is half the game. A dozen moves in Go tells you nothing; it wouldn’t even cover a short opening sequence.

Go definitely has local sections of the game where pure “reading ahead” wins you the situation, but there is still the global concept of surrounding the most territory to consider. It’s somewhat hard to describe in words to someone unfamiliar with the game what exactly I mean here.

Notice how on the right the black stones sort of surround that area. That could quickly turn into territory by fully surrounding it. So how do you get an AI to understand this loose, vague surrounding of an area? One could even imagine much, much looser and vaguer surrounding as well. Humans can instantly see it, but machines cannot and no amount of a calculating further sequences of moves will help.

For years, every winter break from college, I’d go home and watch famous and not-so-famous people easily win matches against the top AI. Even as late as 2014, it wasn’t clear to me that I’d ever see a computer beat a human. The problem was that intractable.

Along came Google. They used a machine learning technique called “Deep Learning” to teach an AI to develop these intuitions. The result was the AlphaGo AI. In March 2016, AlphaGo beat Lee Sedol, arguably the top Go player in the world. It was a five game sequence, and AlphaGo won 4-1. This gave humanity some hope that the top players could still manage a match here and there (unlike in Chess).

But then the AI was put on an online Go server secretly under the name “Master.” It has since played pretty much every single top pro in the world. It has won every single game with a record around 60-0. It is now believed that humans will never win against it, just like in Chess.

More theory has been developed about Go than any other game. We’ve had 2,500 years of study. We thought we had figured out sound basic principles and opening theory. AlphaGo has shaken this up. It will often play moves that look bad to a trained eye, but we’re coming to see that many of the basics we once thought of as optimal are not.

It’s sort of disturbing to realize how quickly the machine learned the history of human development and then went on to innovate it’s own superior strategies. It will be interesting to see if humans can adapt to these new strategies the AI has invented.

Prismata Review

A few month’s ago I reviewed a game by David Sirlin called Codex. It is an attempt to convert a real-time strategy game, like StarCraft, into a card game. And it actually does a really good job (see the post for details).

I’ll try to not talk about StarCraft very long, because the words will be indecipherable to anyone who hasn’t played it (which is probably 99% of people reading this). There is a really old and interesting question about the game: if you strip away everything but the strategy aspect, is it still an interesting game?

This may sound weird to people unfamiliar with the game, because, well, it’s a real-time “strategy” game.

The first ridiculous thing when starting StarCraft is how much there is to learn. There’s probably close to a 100 hotkeys you have to know. There’s the tech tree structure. There’s around 60 units, each of which you should know cost, types of attacks, damage, health, shields, and what the spell-casting abilities are. Knowing those things, you’ll need to learn what counters what and why.

And you might be thinking, but I’ll just click through stuff during a game to find the information. There’s no need to memorize it. That brings up the other crazy aspect of the game: apm (actions per minute). You are going to have to have 200-300 apm (i.e. clicking or pressing a keyboard key 5 times per second on average for an entire 15+ minute match), so you just don’t have time to look stuff up during a match even though that information is available:

If you’re not a StarCraft player, hopefully you’re getting a sense of why the question doesn’t have an obvious answer. You have to play for months just to internalize the hotkeys and learn enough to get to the point of forming any sort of strategy.

If you strip out the memorization; If you strip out dividing the opponent’s attention and distracting them; If you strip out the fog of war; If you strip out having to execute 5 actions per second perfectly for an entire match: is there an interesting strategy game left? In other words, is the winner just someone who clicks faster?

Codex went a long way to answering that question in the affirmative. Sirlin brilliantly left in an aspect of the fog of war and tech trees. But the fact that it is a card game messes with the answer a little. There’s still some luck and some blind countering and some memorization to know what possible answers your opponent will have.

Okay, so this post is supposed to be about Prismata. To me, Prismata gives us a near perfect game for answering the question. There is absolutely no hidden information. All the units and their costs and their abilities are listed on the side at the start of the game. A beginner can play matches with slow enough time controls to carefully read all of this and formulate a plan before making moves.

As soon as your opponent buys a unit, it goes onto the board. So there is no random hidden information of shuffling it into a deck like Codex. Despite it’s appearance, Prismata is NOT a card game. There is no deck or randomness in gameplay at all.

The only randomness is in what units you are allowed to choose from during setup, and I think this is absolutely brilliant. In traditional strategy games like Chess or Go or even StarCraft, there are set openings that one must memorize to play at the top level because every game starts the same. This takes the strategy out of the opening.

In Prismata, every game is different. You have to look at the board you’ve been given and start planning a strategy on Turn 1. It’s a really exciting and fresh idea for a strategy game. It’s like if Chess or Go started with some randomized board state. You couldn’t go into a game with a plan to play a Queen’s gambit or the Kobayashi opening or something. You have to develop a plan on the fly based on the board. It’s a true battle of skill.

Before this review gets too far, I have to bring up the last comparison to Codex. Codex is a card/board game. There is no real online way to play. I played quite a bit by forum, and this might be tolerable for some people. The community is certainly very active, and you won’t have trouble finding a match. But it brought too much fatigue for me, and I stopped liking it for awhile.

Prismata is computer only (eventually through Steam and a separate client and web browser, though I’m not sure if all will continue to be supported after Steam release). If Codex had a computer version, it might compete for my attention. As it is, it’s a game that is played in person, occasionally.

Prismata has an excellent set of tutorials and basic bots and “story” to play through to get a newcomer up to speed. The game looks horrifically complicated, but it is actually very easy to learn and difficult to master. I promise if you play through the basic stuff, you’ll have a full grasp of the basics and even have a few basic strategic ideas. Do not be intimidated by a cluttered screenshot if this game sounds at all interesting to you.

Prismata is a game for people who like strategy and/or card games but who don’t like some of the ridiculous aspects of both. Many strategy games have too much hidden information to make good decisions or too much technical execution to execute a strategic plan. And card games, well, the online ones at least have way too much randomness. There’s also that super annoying way card games completely change every few months when new cards get released and you have to dump a ton of money into it to stay relevant.

Did I mention Prismata is true free to play? Since it’s not a card game, you’ll be playing the real game every game. Neither side will have an advantage merely from grinding out hundreds of hours or paying hundreds of dollars to unlock some legendary thing.

Right now, if you want to try it, you’ll need to request an alpha tester key here. It should release on Steam very soon, though, and I promise to reblog this with the link at the top to remind anyone interested.

A Critique of Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons

I recently got around to playing Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons. It’s one of those games I picked up forever ago, and it just sat around. I got it because it has to be one of the most critically acclaimed games I’ve ever seen. Giant Bomb and many, many other gaming sites gave it a 5/5 or very near such a perfect score.

I’m going to take a contrarian view, and I’m going to back up my claims with hard facts. Anyone paying attention and who knows about games should know better. I’m very confused as to how “experts” could have thought this game was good. I’m confused how “experts” could have even liked the game.

First, the game suffered from genre confusion. I’m all for experimenting with new, cross-genre ideas, but there has to be some content there at the end of the day. Was it a puzzle game? No. It fails on this front, because I never once had to “solve” something. From start to finish, the solution of how to progress was immediately obvious. Moreover, many of the puzzles repeated … several times … like, way too many times for a game this short.

Was it a platformer? No. The platforming aspects were too easy, and the stakes were too low. I think I died at one point because I accidentally let go of a trigger. That was my only death, and basically it happened because I itched my face or something. I got to repeat the task immediately with no penalty.

There is no platforming difficulty at all. In fact, many elements were downright bad on this front:

The number of places where you must edge around a cliff or cross a narrow bridge got on my nerves. Not because I had to execute something challenging, but because the game designers clearly have no idea why other games use these elements. There is no risk of falling. The game won’t let you—I tried. So what’s the point other than to slow the player down? It’s more than an annoyance; it’s bad game design.

Basically, the game must be a story-driven walking simulator, because we’ve now determined it isn’t any of the other genres it’s crossed with. So how is the story? Oh, boy. Don’t get me started. It’s terrible.

First, it starts with a MacGuffin. This is already bad, mostly because we don’t even know what we’re setting off on our adventure to find. We only know it will magically save our father. That’s convenient. Where are we going? How do we know this cure will work? Don’t the writer’s know that MacGuffins are considered a cliche trope indicative of bad storytelling?

Then we haven’t even left our town and a kid is trying to stop us. Why? Our father is dying, and this kid doesn’t want to let us through. I get it. They needed an excuse to set up some “platforming puzzles” (that, recall, require no platforming or puzzle-solving skills). But you can’t have such a disgusting character with no motivation. I hate the term “ludonarrative dissonance,” because I’ve never consciously experienced it. But here I did. This conflict between gameplay and story already ruined the mood of the game in the first five minutes.

Another act of ludonarrative dissonance was when I got to this big castle that I couldn’t enter, but it had these perfectly placed pegs to grab on to (not quite the picture I wanted, but you get the point):

Really? This highly fortified castle has this convenient other way to scale it with perfectly placed pegs, just the right distance so that the rope randomly tied between the two brothers barely reaches. Is this a story game or a puzzle platformer? If it’s a platformer, we could overlook these huge narrative flaws. But it doesn’t work as a game in that genre. It’s a story game, but these scenarios wreck the suspension of disbelief for the story.

More succinctly, in the language of game design, these sections involve “environmental puzzles,” but the puzzles don’t occur naturally in the environment at all. This is bad game design.

And let’s not even go there with the deus ex machinas. Are you stuck and can’t actually progress? Yes? Oh, well, good thing a giant appears out of nowhere and just throws you across the ravine. Did you get to the top of the castle only to be at a dead end? Good thing there is a bird trapped in a cage that will fly you to the next area.

It gets worse. How is that bird still alive? It’s been trapped in a cage for who-knows-how-long, bleeding, without any food, and all the people that could feed it are dead. Are we really supposed to believe the bird is still alive?

Lastly, people claim the ending is really sad. They claim they were moved to tears. I couldn’t get past the shrieking woman singing that shrill song at the climax. It ruined the mood. Ending Spoiler:

On a more serious note, I’ve already mentioned all the reasons I never got into the story: ludonarrative dissonance, tropes/cliches, unmotivated characters, ruined suspension of disbelief, plot holes, etc. I just didn’t feel anything except relief the game was over.

On positive note, the concept could have been amazing. Part of what made the game easy was that the core concept was never executed to its fullest. You have to move one of the brothers with one hand and the other with the other hand.

The potential for some truly interesting and difficult gameplay is there. All they had to do was design parts where you have to move both at the same time in fairly precise and independent ways. Instead, they stuck to having you move both in parallel or one at a time. That was the main downfall of the game: It didn’t even deliver on its core innovative mechanic.

Overall, each element has much better games. For puzzle platforming, there are dozens of examples: Braid, Thomas Was Alone, Teslagrad, Super Meat Boy, Trine, and on and on. For story, there are dozens of examples: Gone Home, Bastion, To the Moon, and on and on. For atmosphere: Limbo, Dear Esther, Kentucky Route Zero, The Long Dark, and on and on. I see no reason why anyone should play this game under any circumstance. There’s just much better games on every front.

I know. The whole is better than the sum of its parts for some games. In this case, that is not true. In fact, many parts messed up other parts. What the critics and people who liked this game were thinking is beyond me.

PC Game Hidden Gems and Some That Aren’t

I had trouble coming up with a succinct title for this post. I wanted to go through some underrated games and some highly rated games that weren’t very good, because it’s been awhile since I’ve done any sort of game review post.

Tactical RPG’s

Underrated: Massive Chalice

Massive Chalice has a similar combat system to XCOM. It initially got some very poor reviews because of this comparison. Many called it XCOM-light or a less deep and easier version of that game. This is an unfair comparison, because most of the strategy and depth comes from the other part of the game.

Massive Chalice has you set up bloodlines from your characters. You know a bunch of traits and character flaws of the characters, and then you must marry them to produce children. There are so many factors and risk/rewards that must go into this.

Do you retire your best fighter so that in 20 years you have several of his children on the battlefield only to find out he couldn’t produce any children? Do you risk a sharpshooter with an alcohol problem staggering around the battlefield? Do you trust the numbers given to you by an overconfident person?

This game might not get you the 200+ hours that many put into XCOM, but put it on ironman hard mode and you’ll be in for a tough challenge. It has a lot of character and humor too. The initial hate it got was unwarranted.

Overrated: The Banner Saga

I know I’ll get hate for this one. This game has overwhelming positive reviews. I think they are unwarranted. This game claimed to have the big three things I’d look for in a game: great story, great art, tactical strategy.

It had one of those; the art is fantastic. I thought the story was thin. It mostly felt like a series of excuses to get to the gameplay. Travel, camp, stop at a town, sometimes drama, repeat. It is very Oregon Trail-like in this respect. I wanted something more than an excuse to be fighting, and that’s all it felt like to me.

The gameplay itself is quite poor. There is a tactical aspect, but it is largely irrelevant. Whether you collect resources or not, you’ll be fine. No matter how you level or play the characters, you’ll be fine. No matter how you position, you’ll be fine. Once I found this out, I stopped trying, and just attacked from wherever I was and won.

But the most important part where this game failed for me was how separate everything was. Story-driven games need to integrate that aspect into the gameplay for a rich and seamless experience. The story and the gameplay were completely separate, which created a disjointed play experience.

Roguelikes

If you are a longtime reader, you’ll know this is kind of my genre, so I’ll do two underrated games. For the most part, it takes a ton of time and feedback to make a great roguelike. This means most aren’t really worth sinking time into unless they are well-known. Here’s two that are well worth the time despite not being talked about as much.

Dungeonmans

This is basically a humorous version of the famous Tales of Maj’Eyal (ToME). To be fair, ToME is a more complicated game, but I think Dungeonmans improves on the ToME idea in several important ways.

First, it has a simpler skill tree system. This makes it more manageable for people who don’t want to spend 100 hours just learning what the different things do. It also has less classes/races, again, an improvement.

Dungeonmans has a randomly generated overworld. This makes repeated playthroughs more interesting than going the same places in the same order like in ToME. It implements an interesting persistence mechanic too. This makes the game beatable for more casual players (but there is an “ironmans” mode for the hardcore permadeath fans).

Longtime fans of ToME might not find what they want in this game (though I did!), but I highly recommend this game for the roguelike-curious who are scared off from giant learning curves like ToME.

Sword of the Stars: The Pit

This is one of the only truly modern roguelikes out there. It is hardcore in the most classic sense of the genre except for ASCII graphics. The game consists of pure dungeon diving. You go to the bottom of the pit to win. What makes the game so great is its inventory management.

Planning ahead and conserving weapons and understanding enemy movement is the key to success. Unlike Dungeonmnans, there is a good chance you’ll never win this on Normal mode (and there are still three difficulty levels above that!).

You have to become really good at the game to succeed. This takes patience and effort. This is what people like about roguelikes. If this sounds terrible, then this game isn’t for you. When you start, you will think the game is too hard to beat, but people who are good at this game can win on Normal more than 90% of the time. It’s not too hard—it’s you.

There is a “recipe” discovery mechanic that is pretty tedious, and this game gets a lot of negative feedback for it. I agree with that aspect of negativity, but it is a small matter that shouldn’t ruin the game.

Strategy

Overrated: Unity of Command

This is a small title, so I’m not sure it’s “overrated.” I saw it pop up numerous times while searching for good PC strategy games. The player reviews tend to be very good too. I could not get into this game at all.

The concept of the game is to advance your front in specific battles while not losing access to your supply line. I’ll admit the concept is clever in how realistic a scenario this is.

The simplification of the war strategy game genre down to its essentials makes getting started easier, but I didn’t find it deep or satisfying. It uses weird turn limits to artificially increase difficulty (more like a puzzle than a strategy game). Randomness plays too big a role as well.

Underrated: Endless Legend

I’m not sure this qualifies as an underrated, because Rock, Paper, Shotgun named it 2014 Game of the Year. Still, the player reviews remain mixed and often negative, so I’m going with “currently underrated.”

This is a 4X strategy game similar to the Civilization franchise. Unlike Civ, this has a fantasy setting on an alien planet. The art is stunning. The backstory for each faction is buried within the game play. This is the type of integration of story and game I was referring to above.

Each faction plays differently. You can choose to enter tactical combat if you wish or you can auto-complete the combat. The large-scale strategy is almost endlessly deep (you see what I did there?) from what to research, whether to build up cities or expand outward, making alliances, spying, attacking, defending, trade routes, trading, marketplace, completing quests, exploring, assigning heroes, and on and on. Any fan of PC strategy games that hasn’t checked this out is really missing a gem with this one.

Draw Luck in Card Games, Part 2

A few weeks ago I talked about draw luck in card games. I thought I’d go a little further today with the actual math behind some core concepts when you play a card game where you build your own deck to use. The same idea works for computing probabilities in poker, so you don’t need to get too hung up on the particulars here.

I’m going to use Magic: The Gathering (MTG) as an example. Here are the relevant idea axioms we will use:

1. Your deck will consist of 60 cards.
2. You start by drawing 7 cards.
3. Each turn you draw 1 card.
4. Each card has a “cost” to play it (called mana).
5. Optimal strategy is to play a cost 1 card on turn 1, a cost 2 card on turn 2, and so on. This is called “playing on curve.”

You don’t have to know anything about MTG now that you have these axioms (in fact, writing them this way allows you to convert everything to Hearthstone, or your card game of choice). Of course, every single one of those axioms can be affected by play, so this is a vast oversimplification. But it gives a good reference point if you’ve never seen anything like this type of analysis before. Let’s build up the theory little by little.

First, what is the probability of being able to play a 1-cost card on turn 1 if you put, say, 10 of these in your deck? We’ll simplify axiom 2 to get started. Suppose you only draw one card to start. Basically, by definition of probability, you have a 10/60, or 16.67% chance of drawing it. Now if you draw 2 cards, it already gets a little bit trickier. Exercise: Try to work it out to see why (hint: the first card could be 1-cost OR the second OR both).

Let’s reframe the question. What’s the probability of NOT being able to play a card turn 1 if you draw 2 cards? You would have to draw a non-1-cost AND another non-1-cost. The first card you pick up has a 50/60 chance of this happening. Now the deck only has 59 cards left, and 49 of those are non-1-cost. So the probability of not being able to play turn 1 is ${\frac{50}{60}\cdot\frac{49}{59}}$, or about a 69% chance.

To convert this back, we get that the probability of being able to play the 1-cost card on turn 1 (if start with 2 cards) is ${\displaystyle 1- \frac{50\cdot 49}{60\cdot 59}}$, or about a 31% chance.

Axiom 2 says that in the actual game we start by drawing 7 cards. The pattern above continues in this way, so if we put ${k}$ 1-cost cards in our deck, the probability of being able to play one of these on turn 1 is:

${\displaystyle 1 - \frac{(60-k)\cdot (60-k-1)\cdots (60-k-7)}{60\cdot 59\cdots (60-7)} = 1 - \frac{{60-k \choose 7}}{{60 \choose 7}}}$.

To calculate the probability of hitting a 2-cost card on turn 2, we just change the 7 to an 8, since we’ll be getting 8 cards by axiom 3. The ${k}$ becomes however many 2-cost cards we have.

Here’s a nice little question: Is it possible to make a deck where we have a greater than 50% chance of playing on curve every turn for the first 6 turns? We just compute the ${k}$ above that makes each probability greater than ${0.5}$. This requires putting the following amount of cards in your deck:

6 1-cost
5 2-cost
5 3-cost
4 4-cost
4 5-cost
3 6-cost

Even assuming you put 24 lands in your deck, this still gives you tons of extra cards. Let’s push this a little further. Can you make a deck that has a better than 70% chance of playing on curve every turn? Yes!

9 1-cost
8 2-cost
7 3-cost
7 4-cost
6 5-cost
6 6-cost

Warning: This mana curve would never be used by any sort of competetive deck. This is a thought experiment with tons of simplifying assumptions. The curve for your deck is going to depend on a huge number of things. Most decks will probably value playing on curve in the 2,3,4 range way more than other turns. If you have an aggressive deck, you might value the early game. If you play a control deck, you might value the later game.

Also, the longer the game goes, the less cards you probably need in the high cost range to get those probabilities up, because there will be ways to hunt through your deck to increase the chance of finding them. Even more, all of these estimates are conservative, because MTG allows you to mulligan a bad starting hand. This means many worst-case scenarios get thrown out, giving you an even better chance at playing on curve.

This brings us back to the point being made in the previous post. Sometimes what feels like “bad luck” could be poor deck construction. This is an aspect you have full control over, and if you keep feeling like you aren’t able to play a card, you might want to work these probabilities out to make a conscious choice about how likely you are to draw certain cards at certain points of the game.

Once you know the probabilities, you can make more informed strategic decisions. This is exactly how professional poker is played.