Friday, February 24, 2012

Wow, Did "Eclipse" Just Kill "Twilight"?

If I played board games just to win them, I'd never play board games.  Witness last Wednesday's run of Touko Tahkokallio's brilliant game of galactic conquest Eclipse...


Employing a conservative strategy of consolidating my own region of the galaxy, I jumped out to a sizable early lead.  But, just as soon as someone made the observation that I might be winning, my primitive monkey brain immediately began to ponder the best route towards self-immolation.

Before we get into that, here's Dean's handy summation of the game's elegant and intuitive rules:








PART ONE


In Part One, I find myself surrounded by indigenous people and immediately ponder the most expedient method to wipe them all out.  I also annex a nearby science/resource world and then purchase robot slaves who I totally did not use for sexual purposes, BTW.

Dean finds free neutron bombs lying around, settles for cash monies, rebukes a planet filled with eggheads and purchases robot slaves who he totally didn't use for sexual purposes, BTW.

Chad makes a beeline for Coruscant, crushes two star systems under his booted heel, encounters some Ancients and buys shielding which makes his ships look all dark and broody.





PART TWO


In Part Two I build and then pimp out an entire fleet of Defiants, stomp a mudhole in the ass of my peaceful neighbors and win a free cruiser apparently by "Rolling Up The Rim To Win".  

Dean is the first one to build a star destroyer, gets slightly inconvenienced while subjugating some nearby Space Mayans and then picks up some afterthought phase shielding.

After boiler-plating some adamantium onto the side of his ships, Chad then proceeds to explore the shit out of the entire galaxy.





PART THREE


In Part Three I de-regulate the banks for an illusory Advanced Economy, lease my own damned dreadnought for only forty (thousand) easy payments, equip my ships with tougher hides and (illegal) engines, and then continue to conquer large tracts of the galaxy in the name of space democracy.

Dean starts printing Monopoly money for his Advanced Economy, tinkers away on orbital platforms and interceptors, wins the Intergalactic Powerball, settles Planet 1% and indulges in some weird science courtesy of his new Advanced Laboratory. 

Chad annihilates some pesky Ancients that had the gall to exist in his neck of the woods, finds himself up to his nose in brown stuff (!), hires a pack of drunken lemurs to invest in his Advanced Economy and then discovers a fusion source (in his pants).  





PART FOUR & REVIEW

In the game's thrilling conclusion, my hubris has me opting for overcomplicated tech instead of WHAT WOULD HAVE WON THE FUCKING GAME FOR ME.  I also ponder the limited appeal of 2001: A Space Odyssey merchandise and foolishly try to rip the corsage out of Chad's hand.  

Dean builds a space diaphragm, gives his ships a new coat of paint before sending them off on a suicide mission and then wisely decides not fly his entire armada into the sun at the eleventh hour.    

Chad summons a wave of defenders, all of whom are apparently armed with the wave motion gun from Star Blazers.





Despite my proclivities towards seppuku, I absolutely loved this play of Eclipse.  Yes, it doesn't have all the chrome of a Twilight Imperium but I certainly appreciate the fact that I don't have to say good-bye to my loved ones for an entire weekend in order to play it.

My dice roll review: 6 pips outta 6!  



Thursday, February 16, 2012

+ 5 Wife of Awesomeness Recovers Treasure Type H

I just wanted to cap off Valentine's Week by stating for the record that I love my wife.  Not only is this supremely patient woman tolerant of my oddball hobbies, she actively encourages them. 

About two or three years ago, I came back home after a long day of gaming and my supremely better half proudly announced that she'd stumbled upon a treasure trove of old D&D stuff at the flea market.  To her additional credit, she didn't just follow this with an "Ultimate Geek Tease" by telling me: "W-e-l-l-l-l, I wasn't sure if you were still into it so I just left it there" or "It wasn't in perfect shape so I just kept walking" or "I couldn't remember if it was Dungeons & Dragons you liked or some other game.  Oh well, it'll probably still be there next Sunday!"   Nope, she just handed all this phat lootz over to me and said: "Here ya go, ya crazy kid!  Enjoy!"

Here's an inventory of what she picked up that day:

 Dungeon Module B1: "In Search of the Unknown"(1979)


Mike Carr's introductory module, included in the fourth printing of the John Eric Holmes Dungeons & Dragons boxed set.  It includes a split-level maze: the upper half being an architecturally creative standard dungeon and the lower half a fairly labyrinthine cave complex.  The module also features a few amusing d20 random tables ( like a "True or False" rumor generator and a creative answer to that immortal question "WHAT'S IN THE JAR?") and some kooky pre-gen NPC hirelings with names like "Presto the Elven Magic-User" (!) and "Kracky the Hooded One" (!!!).

Dungeon Module T1: The Village of Hommlet (1979)   


This AD&D classic of Gygaxian verbosity, weirdness and Rain Man-attention to detail is in pretty rough shape.  Nevertheless, all of the gloriously detailed maps (featuring the village and it's environs, the Ruins of Moathouse, the Inn of the Welcome Wench and the dungeon underneath) appear to be present and accounted for.  With it's previously-unseen-to-me Trampier art and decidedly wacky NPC's, this relic makes me wanna bust out an olde skool session like nobody's bidness.

Dungeons & Dragons Basic Rulebook (1980) 


I was delighted to finally get my hands on the Tom Moldvay-edited Basic rulebook, which predates my involvement with D&D by about three years.  I can easily see how his concise and clear presentation really helped bring Dungeon & Dragons to the masses.  The rules are easy to comprehend and the layout is well-organized.  I especially dig reading the "Sample Dungeon Expedition" transcript and the extended example of combat, which includes the deathless line: "It's okay, Gary sent us!" 

Dungeon Module B2: The Keep on the Borderlands (1980)     


Whereas the Basic Manual was clearly well-used, the accompanying module is in near-mint condition.  Notwithstanding the laughably inept cover art, there's a lot of goodness lurking inside.  Between the titular Keep, the surrounding wilderness and the Caves of Chaos, it's sandbox-y enough to keep new players amused for several sessions.

Dungeon Module B3: Palace of the Silver Princess (1980)


This mostly Moldvay module (try saying that five times really fast) features an extensive dungeon in addition to some detailed Palace plans.  As if presaging the Mentzer version of Basic D&D, Silver Princess includes a fairly elaborate programmed adventure designed to help neophyte DM's introduce the game to their  players.  There's also an appendix featuring three (generally silly) new "killer flora" monsters: including the thorn-shooting Archer Bush, the parasitic Vampire Rose and the Lovecraftian Decapus (luridly pictured on the front cover).

Dungeon Module X1: The Isle of Dread (1980)





I sure wish the Dave-Cook-edited Expert Set was included in the haul, but, hey, you can't look a gift catoblepas in the maw.  I'm actually quite familiar with this module since a re-packaged version was included in the Mentzer Expert set, but it's still kinda cool having this "Mirror Universe" incarnation.  I never really ran published adventures when I played as a kid, but I kinda always wish that I'd gotten a party of players out to the Isle.  This one's packed to the gills with fantastic maps, including a real beauty depicting the default campaign's south sea region:


As much as I enjoyed dungeon crawls and wilderness adventures, I positively loved ocean adventures in D&D.  I guess that's why my first novel is positively rife with maritime references.  The Expert Set was great since it contained simple yet elegant rules for ships, sea-travel, weather and encounters.  I guess that's why I'll always love those blue books the most.  *Sigh*

TSR Hobbies Inc "Gateway To Adventure" Catalog (1981)


Wow, talk about your time capsules!  David Sutherland's Satan-licious Dungeon Master's Guide and Trapper-Keeper doodle-riffic Monster Manual are featured inside, as is Trampier's iconic Player's Handbook.   The Top Secret, Boot Hill and Gamma World boxed sets are all present and accounted for.  The best part: the stills depicting Dungeon!, Warlocks & Warriors, Snit's Revenge! and 4'th Dimension prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that TSR's graphic designers back then had all the taste of a cardboard Popsicle.

 Player's Manual and Dungeon Master's Rulebook (1983)









   









I've already written extensively about my unabashed love for these books so I won't indulge in any tired re-hashery, but holding them in my hands really brings back memories.  Now that I've read Moldvay's version, though, Mentzer's prose seems kinda simple-minded in comparison.  "This is a game that is fun.  It helps you imagine" seems like a comedown from "individuals play the role of characters in a fantasy world where magic is real and heroes venture out on dangerous quests in search of fame and fortune".

But still, this was my gateway drug.  And besides, that Elmore cover painting is absolutely bad-ass.

Players Companion: Book One & Dungeon Masters Companion: Book Two (1984)


















Although not nearly as world-altering as the Expert set which proceeded it, there were a few things in the Companion rules that we were quick to adopt.  The new weapons (bastard sword, blowgun, bola, heavy crossbow, blackjack, net, trident and whip) and new armor (scale and banded mail) provided some welcome combat variety.  Druids were introduced as an alterna-Cleric.  Players could now participate in jousting tournaments, archery contests and field lists.

But these little table scraps just served to whet our appetites for AD&D, which we happily graduated to a few months later.  Although we didn't level through the Basic Companion rules, I continued to spot-weld several resources from this set onto my campaign.  The Striking and Wrestling options were intriguing, so I used them whenever required.  The War Machine mass combat rules proved to be indispensable when I needed an appropriately epic climax to a major story arc.  And as a rabid reader of Conan the King, running a Dominion became an attractive alternative.  

Combat Shield and Mini-Adventure (1984)


This is an intriguing little relic.  In addition to assembling all the required charts on an otherwise nondescript hunk of cardboard, there's an interesting mini adventure by David Cook included called "The Treasure of the Hideous One".  As it turns out, the title has less to do with Jocelyn Wildenstein's jewelry collection and more to do with four amazing artifacts guarded by a suave undead motherfucker.  Hmmmmm...     

I'll try and review these individually (and in more detail) down the road.  If anyone out there in the blogosphere wants me to put priority on something, let me know and I'll endeavor to oblige.  

Happy gaming and remember: try and find yourself a better half that lives up to that cliche!

Sunday, February 12, 2012

In Defense of Party Games

Party Games get a pretty bad rap, but often for good reason.

Every holiday season, Calendar Club opens up a store in every mall in North America and suckers the general populace into overpaying for crap board games based on cool licensed properties.  Before torch and pitchfork-wielding villagers swarm the store with their sales receipts, they quickly ditch their questionable wares, pack up their tents and clear outta Dodge.  This shady practice never fails to do immeasurable damage to my beloved hobby every single year.

This is the kind of dreck these snake-oil salesmen try to pawn off on the unsuspecting masses:


  

   











Frankly I'd rather nail my nuts to a stump and try and catch anvils then play some of these barkers.

Mercifully, all is not lost for the party game genre as evidenced by our gathering last Saturday @ Casa del Andrew.  Here's his invitational email:

Greetings y’all.

(We're) looking to have a party game night at our place this Saturday.  Not sure what time yet…but it will be in the evening.  Alcohol is recommended but not required.  It seems that I have a lot of party games so you don’t need to worry about bringing a game.  If you can’t make it then no worries, I know it’s short notice. If you wish to get fall down sloppy drunk (Chad I’m looking at you) then you are welcome to sleep on one of our sofas.

Games that must be played:

The Resistance

Crappy Birthday
Telestrations

Chad's reply pretty much summed up all of our collective thoughts:

Awesome!  I like the list of “must plays”!

PS – Andrew will you be providing puke buckets or should I bring my own?


To which Andrew replied:

BYOB X 2
Bring your own Beer / Bring your own Bucket


All of us silently hoped that the games themselves wouldn't trigger our gag reflexes, but since Andrew's acquisitions are usually well-researched we were pretty confident that fun times were imminent.

First up was Crappy Birthday, a pretender to the Apples to Apples throne.


Players get a mitt-ful of five illustrated cards, each representing what a crappy or (relatively) cool birthday gift might be.  Some examples: "European Soap for a Year from Five-Star Hotel, Slightly Used", "Pet Tarantula: Keep this Docile Spider for it's Entire Lifetime!" or "Running with the Bulls: Bring your Nikes!"

On any given player's turn it's considered to be their "birthday" so people around the table submit a card which they hope that player will choose as THE WORST BIRTHDAY GIFT EVAR.  We also played the speedy variant whereby the birthday boy/girl also picks their favorite gift out of the bunch.  The person who's card is selected gets a point.  The first player to five points wins!     

That's it, folks.  That's the entire rulebook summarized.  Okay, so it's not exactly Twilight Imperium, but you're also 98% more likely to pee yourself laughing while playing this.   

I wasn't on anyone's wavelength at all in Game One, scoring my one and only point on the very last hand with a "Co-operative Bicycle" gifted to Dean.  I knew that, being a cyclist, Dean really wouldn't care very much for such a contraption.  Plus, he really hates to share.    



Chad, on the other hand, alternately kicked ass and/or took names.  In an amusing twist, it seemed as if 80% of the so-called "crappy" birthday gifts sent his way he absolutely loved! ("Ooooooo!  A Two-Week Stay in Antarctica!")  He also did a boffo job picking gifts for everyone else, including "Live Music for the Summer: See This Local Metal Band Every Weekend!" for me.  What can I say, I'm a slave to my passions.

In Game Two, I got into the zone, scoring four points in quick succession.  Cheryl picked my "Camp in Paris Catacombs: Spend the Night With Millions of Bones" as a good gift (!) and Chad selected my "Grandma's Collection of 25 Favorite Records This Year" as one of his worst.  Dean also had me pegged for a "Star Wars Themed Wedding".        



Some other memorable kick-backs included Andrew's adamant refusal of a "24-hour Silent Film Festival", my horror at the prospects of a "Three Hour Friday Night Winter Knitting Club" and Audrey wrestling with the lesser of five evil decor options including a "Barbed Wire Fence" and a "Peeing Statue".    
     
As soon as we finished the first game I knew immediately that it had supplanted Apples To Apples for me.  I'll always have a soft spot for A&A because I've seen it result in so many non-gamer epiphanies, but the images alone in Crappy Birthday really makes it a winner.  I also think that the "love it / hate it" variant speeds the game up nicely by doling out two points per turn.  My only demerit: there aren't very many cards so repetition's prolly gonna set in pretty quick.   

Next up: The Resistance




At the beginning of the game, players are dealt secret role cards that define them as either Imperial Spies or members of The Resistance.  In order to win the game, players must determine where their opponent's loyalties lie, protect their own identity and foster their secret cause.  Bluff, beguilement and deductive reasoning are the order of the day here.

Over the course of three to five rounds, players alternate leading a "mission".  They first select players around the table as team members, the number of which is determined by what round you're currently in. This team composition is then approved or vetoed in a secret vote by everyone at the table.  If the the team is sanctioned it then moves into the mission phase, where success or failure is determined by an internal vote submitted by the team members themselves.

If the mission succeeds, it's a point for the Resistance.  If it fails, the Spies get the duke.  The first team to get three victories wins the game.

I'd like to preface this by saying that I'm pretty crap when it comes to bluffing, lying and intimidation.  Even when I play a video games that encourages some ethical wiggle room, Chaotic Good seems to be the most anti-social behavior I can muster. My idea of concealing evil intent in games is just to go mute, which as you can imagine, instantly casts aspersions on me.


So when I drew the "Spy" role card I kinda cringed.  It's challenging enough to wrap your head around new game mechanics let alone promote some sort of secret Machiavellian agenda by acting like Robert DeNiro in Angel Heart.  This often resulted in me keeping my snack-hole suspiciously shut and vainly attempting to strangle any behavioral tells.  It's a damned good sight that the Spies scored a couple of quick points under the veil of first-game confusion.

Andrew, on the other hand, has a weird affinity for games like this.  It wasn't long before he started calling me out in heated, court-room style exchanges like:

Andrew:  I'm not going to pick you for my team...SPY.    
Dave:  I am not a spy!  You're the spy...

Needless to say, I tanked out on that first game and the Resistance was victorious.  Andrew, Dean, Audrey and Chad shared the win and Cheryl, Claudia and I were laid low. 

In Game Two I was relieved to pull a Resistance loyalty card, which meant that I didn't act like a coke mule trying to clear customs.  But Andrew, damn his hide, was now cast in the role he was born to play.  Despite the fact that I was outwardly thrilled by the early victories of the Resistance, within minutes Andrew had cast doubts on my loyalties amongst the group.

Andrew:  I think you're a SPY.      
Dave:  I am not a spy!  Honestly, I'm not a friggin' spy!  Really!  Guys, c'mon.  I'm not a...oh, fuck it.   

So again, despite a quick lead, the infiltrators quickly puzzled out who everyone was.  When this happens there's not much you can do to avoid an inevitable result since you can just pick the team-members you know you can trust.  The Spies surged back with an unstoppable win, which I still maintain wouldn't have happened if Andrew wasn't so friggin' adamant.


He shared his ill-begotten win with Cheryl and Claudia who both did a solid job in deflecting suspicions.

This is a tremendous game, perhaps my favorite of the night.  It does a fine job taking the tone of games like Ultimate Werewolf, Shadow Hunters, and Battlestar Galactica and wrapping them up in a light negotiation-style party game which is easily playable in thirty minutes. 

The final game of the evening was Telestrations:        


Honestly you'd be hard-pressed characterizing Telestrations as a formal board game.  It's more like what results when a company realizes: "Hey, why don't we take this cobbled together pen and paper public domain party game, copyright it, package it up all slick-like and then sell it in every Borders/Chapters/Indigo store on the planet."

Remember when you were a kid some teacher/scout leader/wise-ass authority figure would try and teach you about the dangers of gossip by playing the Telephone game?  You'd be sitting in a circle with about twenty other twitchy kids and the teacher/scout leader/wise-ass authority figure would whisper a word like "Race Car" into the ear of the first kid and then tell them to pass it along.  By the time "Race Car" got around to the last kid it had somehow morphed into "Purple Monkey Dishwasher".

In the late 80's / early 90's some anonymous and clever little jobber decided to add a Pictionary-style component which required that the next person (and ever other person) in line had to interpret the word in a sketch.  This home-made concoction went by many names, the most resilient of which being Eat Poop You Cat, based on one of the game's more bizarre interpretations.  Needless to say, much hilarity ensued.

Pity that the creative but otherwise myopic fuck who came up with that idea didn't copyright it.  Sensing an opportunity to quantify the hilarity at a retail price of $29.95, USAopoly (who apparently have no qualms naming their company after a shitty Calendar Club game) snatched up the concept and made a formal boxed party game out of it.

The funny thing is, it was never meant to be a game.  Any attempt to "score" the resulting drawings and guesses is about like trying to drink beer out of a cullender.  So, we always ignore the stupid scoring system.

The game begins when you're handed a mark n' wipe sketch book and a card with six words or phrases on it.  A random six-sided die roll determines which word to write on the front page (along with your name).  You then pass your book to the person on the left who tries to interpret your clue in a sketch.  In order to make the game even more frantic, a 90-second sand timer to also used.

So, just to show you how this works, here's what resulted from the keyword...

     
Now, although Andrew might be a fucking savant when it comes to games requiring strategy and subterfuge, he's strictly clown shoes when it comes to stuff like this.  Here's my boy's  Magritte-style interpretation of "Psychologist":


Needless to say, when I was handed this abstract, minimalist masterpiece I know that no court in the land would convict me if I guessed creatively:


Then, somewhere along the line, "Head Ache" got twisted into "Hairspray", which Cheryl brilliantly interpreted thusly:


Needless to say this one went completely off the rails thanks to Andrew's brain cramp.  But given the fact that we were all laughing like a bunch of YouTube babies, we really didn't care too much.

Next up I was pretty hard-pressed to illustrate the sexually suggestive "Shrimp Cocktail":

 
In retrospect, I really should have gone with a more phallic rendition since this was understandably mistaken by Chad as:


Yeah, it never really recovered from that...

Another one of my clues was the seemingly innocuous:


This one had a couple of really cute renditions:


Note unmistakable, cat-like whiskers and evocative speed-lines.  Unfortunately after the following Parkinson's-stricken feline was sketched:


 It became:

 
 And then, after Andrew's decidedly Lovecraftian rendition:


Dean had no choice but to go literal:

 
'Nuff said.

Then things took on a decidedly macabre bent when Audrey's version of "Rubber Gloves":

 
Was translated into the following by Claudia:


Which, in turn, was interpreted in increasingly ghoulish ways:


By the time the book got around to me I just guessed "Accident" since it looked like a still from Peter Jackson's Dead/Alive.

And finally I'll show you what happened with Dean's "Diaper":


Here's Cheryl's fantastic translation:


But then Audrey froze up like a deer in headlights and could only produce this:


But what's really funny is that Chad manged to take the completely inexplicable image above and pull this even more inexplicable guess out of his anus:


Oblivious to the unknown detour, I gamely tackled my new assignment with vigor:


Hey, at least my "dead-eyed-baby-as-Jennifer-Beals-in-Flashdance" is wearing a diaper!

So, as you can see by these example, Telestrations resembles a board game about as much as Rebecca Black resembles a singer/songwriter.  Nevertheless, I really firmly believe that even the most hardened grognard and game snob needs a break from playing Agricola and Drang Nach Osten! and just have a spot of mindless fun.

I just hope that these humble suggestions will prevent players from suffering needlessly with the sort of crap that seasonal shopping mall hucksters try to peddle on unsuspecting folk.    


RATINGS

Crappy Birthday:   

The Resistance:

Telestrations:

Additional photos by Claudia Langley.