TBM: Ep 18 EXTRAS

Pro-tip: if you are wondering when the best deal is on Building Blocks or other CRC press books, it's Black Friday. 

The differences in what mechanisms and structures are tolerable in co-op vs. competitive games is as fascinating as it is frustrating. 

I probably should have mentioned the episodes of TBM about gates (8 and 9) when I mentioned chapter breaks. Not quite the same thing but in the same category. 

Honestly, I'm pretty behind on new board game releases so I don't know how much innovation in events we've seen recently. It feels like the general opinions of five years ago still stand, but I could be wrong.

I increasingly view game design as obstacle design. Possibly more on that in a future episode?

TBM: Ep 18 script

In an attempt to transition out of hiatus, I will be posting the scripts of my Thinking Beyond Mechanisms segment. I don't plan to edit them, so there may be some differences between the audio and written versions. Take the audio as the correct version.

Events

Welcome to Thinking Beyond Mechanisms, an in depth look at the other aspects of game design, the segment that looks at some of the theory of board game design that goes beyond what typically gets covered when we learn how to design games. My name is Sarah Shipp and today I want to talk about in-game events. 

Building Blocks of Tabletop Game Design defines events as: actions [which] occur outside the control of players that cause an immediate effect, change the state of the game, or impact subsequent actions. 

While events are a mechanism, they are fairly unique in that a significant reason for their continued use in board games is to add theme to gameplay. The other primary reason is to add variety via the randomness of when certain events will occur. 

Event decks have been criticized for introducing too much randomness or being overused when a more elegant mechanic would make a game more interesting. Fundamentally, events take the focus off of player actions when they occur. Events have remained more popular in co-op or solo games, where the game intruding on the players’ strategies is more common and less disrupting to the expected flow. 

However, as more attention is paid to game arcs and narrative structure in games, events are perhaps due a carefully curated renaissance. Events inject thematic moments into a game by offering a window into the wider world beyond player actions via one-off mechanisms and flavor text. By aligning events to certain moments in a game arc, the events could serve as chapter breaks, reminders of the thematic stakes, or offer semi-random plot twists. 

The simplest method is to think of events as chapter breaks. If every time a season ends in a farming game an event card comes out, then those events should be used to thematically drive the passage time and change of seasons. 

In games that have a sense of urgency to the theme, events can remind players that time is running out and success is not assured. Games with a historical theme already use event decks and similar mechanisms in this way. However, we don’t have to rely on history to build tension via event decks. For instance, a horror game might have a deck of increasingly dangerous ghostly encounters.

If a game uses events as chapter breaks, the next natural step is to introduce rule changes or new obstacles in the form of plot twists. Goals and obstacles are fundamental to both game design and storytelling. It stands to reason then that adding new obstacles mid-game is an ideal moment to add a new plot point. I don’t recommend starting here when designing event decks, however. While I think events have interesting plot possibilities, putting major plot points into a random or semi-random deck is also potentially a recipe for a confused story arc. 

There are a number of considerations to make before adding events to a game. If your goal is to increase theme and variety while maintaining the player’s sense of strategic control over their actions, I have a few suggestions. First, consider events that add obstacles rather than penalties. Penalties remove something that players already have whereas obstacles add something to be overcome. A penalty in a zombie fighting game would remove a players food stash but an obstacle would add more zombies to an area or degrade a neutral safe house. 

The second thing to consider when using events for full thematic effect is if events can be organized in a graduated deck. The siege deck in Siege of Runedar is a simplistic example, in that the deck has five levels that incrementally increase the number of enemy attacks over the course of the game. For fewer events that are still semi-random, pulling a single card from each tier and keeping it facedown until the event occurs is an option. 

Lastly, I would consider events that have a global effect on players. Oftentimes, the perceived unfairness of an event deck arises from when only some players are targeted by an event. Moving away from penalty-based to obstacle-based events helps with this, but events that change the effectiveness of actions can also add challenge without feeling unfair. 

Much like take that mechanics or roll-and-move, events can easily be used poorly. However, that doesn’t mean we should disregard the mechanism entirely. We may just need to rethink how we use it.  

For more ways of thinking beyond mechanisms, you can visit my blog at shipp board games dot blog spot dot com or catch future episodes of thinking beyond mechanisms on ludology.

TBM: Ep 17 EXTRAS

There are many types of hooks, but I think thematic hooks are important to pay attention to, if only because it is so easy to go overboard when talking about a game's setting while also never really saying anything exciting. 

I hope we have all moved past the idea that "boring" themes don't sell. 

Life Lesson: Raising emotional stakes is great for creative projects; lowering emotional stakes is good for conflict resolution. Some things are not worth getting upset over. 

The idea of adding conflict to a theme sounds problematic in the era of cozy and "conflict-free" games. But I stand by my belief that games require goals and obstacles definitionally (feel free to argue with me about this though), and OBSTACLES ARE CONFLICT. Conflict =/= violence. Conflict is when something stands in the way of a goal. 

If you want to know how not to increase conflict, read about TV shows that jump the shark. 

Re: adding urgency. Board games have defined limits on play sessions, typically. So that short window into the world of the game almost always benefits from a reason why players are taking action now (in the theme) as opposed to earlier or later. Urgency does not need to mean the world is doomed, it can mean some simple event kicked off the reasons for gameplay. 

I missed this in the episode, but I'm really talking about reframing the theme you have to strengthen the hook. So, you don't necessarily need to change anything in the game, so much as express some of the "why's" more clearly and using language that will drive player investment by creating a sense of drama. 

TBM: Ep 17 script

In an attempt to transition out of hiatus, I will be posting the scripts of my Thinking Beyond Mechanisms segment. I don't plan to edit them, so there may be some differences between the audio and written versions. Take the audio as the correct version.

Raising the Stakes

Welcome to Thinking Beyond Mechanisms, an in depth look at the other aspects of game design, the segment that looks at some of the theory of board game design that goes beyond what typically gets covered when we learn how to design games. My name is Sarah Shipp and today I want to talk about strengthening your theme’s hook by raising the emotional stakes. 

A thematic hook is a brief summary of your theme stated in a way that will grab players attention. Games can have many different types of hooks, but thematic hooks are often overlooked by designers while being a straightforward way to increase your game’s appeal. You don’t need to add expensive components or extensive play testing to improve your thematic hook. 

When theme is discussed among designers, the idea that some themes are inherently boring often comes up. I strongly disagree with the idea that any theme is universally boring. In these discussions, Wingspan is regularly used as an example of a theme that no one would have expected could have the large appeal it ended up having. But clearly, that means that Wingspan does not have a boring theme, but rather an overlooked or perhaps unexpectedly successful theme. In my opinion, PowerGrid has the most boring theme among widely played hobby games, but given how highly rated the game is, I doubt my opinion is universal. 

I say all this to say that improving thematic hooks does not necessarily mean finding inherently universally interesting subjects for games. Rather, improving thematic hooks can involve subtler changes to your existing theme. The purpose of a hook is to catch interest, to make players care. And the way to make someone care about the story your theme is telling is to raise the emotional stakes. 

Raising emotional stakes in acting is a concept that encourages actors to be more open, vulnerable, or invested in a scene. Emotional stakes make the dilemmas present in a theme feel more personal and accessible to a player. Something as simple as player character portraits can give the player something to identify with and latch on to emotionally. 

However, to really raise the stakes involves adding conflict within your theme. Even subtle forms of conflict, such as a time limit, gives the story of the theme a sense of urgency. And raising the stakes in your thematic hooks means that the stakes need to be global to all players, not faction specific. 

For instance, “the nations are fighting for control of the source of all magic” provides the thematic reason behind a hypothetical skirmish game. However, if we wanted to raise the stakes, we might say “the nations are fighting for control the source of all magic—but if that source is destroyed in the process it could destroy the world”. Now we have presented players with a tension between controlling something precious and the possibility of unintentionally destroying it in the process. 

I should add that if you raise the stakes of your thematic hook considerably, you will want your gameplay to reflect the promise of your hook. So, if we promise the dramatic tension of trying to control magic without destroying it, the possibility of destroying it should be present in the game. However, I’d argue that most games can strengthen their thematic hooks to some degree without the need for mechanical changes. 

On the other hand, it’s very likely that you will find that when you start raising the thematic stakes of your game that you will want to make mechanical changes because you will be the one hooked by a more interesting theme. With that in mind, I’d like to look at some of the strongest approaches you can take to raising emotional stakes. 

The simplest way to raise emotional stakes is with a sense of urgency. A time limit will lend urgency to your theme. Most games are structured around limiting time or turns to a certain extent, so adding a level of thematic urgency is often not difficult. 

In ep 14 I discussed how theming failure can create emotional stakes in a game. Adding urgency to possible failure raises the emotional stakes. You can raise them further by identifying an entity that is in opposition to the player’s thematic goals. Opposing forces add urgency but also potential consequences. The opposed forces could be political factions, competitive colleagues, or even natural phenomena. Opposition to goals adds an urgency that isn’t time based. If a player feels they have forces amassing against them and are running out of time, the prospect of failure becomes weightier. 

Consequences of failure have a stronger emotional resonance if there is something particular the player can identify with. A single player character or a strong group identity is easier to latch onto than a group of adventurers whose members may be disposable over the course of the game. For example, the factions in Dune. This sense of identity can be present in your thematic hook in some cases, such as nations going to war. It should definitely be present in a longer thematic description. 

No theme is boring if you present it in an engaging way. Adding urgency, opposition, consequences, and a strong player identity will raise the emotional stakes of a theme. Raising the stakes makes for a stronger thematic hook, making your game more memorable and engaging. And it doesn’t cost anything to add. 

For more ways of thinking beyond mechanisms, you can visit my blog at shipp board games dot blog spot dot com or catch future episodes of thinking beyond mechanisms on ludology.

TBM: Ep 16 EXTRAS

I almost started this episode with "It is a truth universally acknowledged..."

If you haven't noticed yet, I am increasingly interested in gaming structures (high level mechanics), especially how these structures affect player behavior. 

My big revelation while writing this episode was that judging games and guessing games are opposites in structure. Judging games have prompts; guessing games have clues. 

I feel like "group dependent" is applied to games that have not accurately defined their audience during product development. All games are group dependent, but some promote better self-selection. 

OK. Theatre/life lesson time: Two options is better than six. If you really want someone to be invested and feel like a part of the process, but you are the one doing the work, GIVE THEM ONLY TWO OPTIONS. This is a good way for bosses to feel like they are a part of the decision process. Of course, two options doesn't always work in game design. 

I really liked sonnets in high school, because the strict rules within creative writing appealed to me. It's honestly surprising how long it took me to discover game design. 

Pattern seeking is human nature. Creative pattern seeking is probably my favorite genre of party game. (Maybe also explains some of the appeal of roll and draw games?)

I didn't dwell on the time aspect, but something that has tripped me up with party-adjacent game ideas is how long players will tolerate sitting in silence. It's always short than you think. 

TBM: Ep 16 script

In an attempt to transition out of hiatus, I will be posting the scripts of my Thinking Beyond Mechanisms segment. I don't plan to edit them, so there may be some differences between the audio and written versions. Take the audio as the correct version.

Player Creation

Welcome to Thinking Beyond Mechanisms, an in depth look at the other aspects of game design, the segment that looks at some of the theory of board game design that goes beyond what typically gets covered when we learn how to design games. My name is Sarah Shipp and today I want to talk about games that ask players to be creative.

It is a general truth that putting players on the spot to be creative is a huge turn off for a wide swath of gamers. No one likes to feel as though their creative efforts are lacking, even within the confines of a game. As a result, most party games provide a structure in the form of prompts that give players a jumping off point. 

Let’s start with judging and guessing games. Both categories tend to have a display of cards that are curated in response to a prompt or result in a clue being given. There’s a couple of extremes these games can fall into. Asking players to come up with witty responses based on vague prompts results in very group dependent play experiences. Some people don’t like games like Dixit because the game depends on player cleverness. On the other hand, games with very specific card prompts usually end up needing expansions in order for subsequent plays to not feel repetitive, which is why I somehow own around a thousand Apples to Apples cards. 

There is a better way to approach asking players to be creative. One of the most important lessons I learned in theatre is that unlimited creative scope can be overwhelming, but just telling people what to do can be stifling. So boundaries have to be placed on creativity. Dixit letting players say or sing anything is too broad for some players. Just One allows players to create their own clues, but with a strict boundary: one word and no repetition with the other players. 

This approach makes Just One the easier game to teach and play. It also solves the Apples to Apples problem. Because you can see the same words again from one game to the next in Just One but still end up with different clues. You still need some variety, but having multiple words per card provides variety in an efficient way. 

Creativity within games should be like writing sonnets: strict rules with room for endless variation. Codenames asks clue givers to provide a word and a number. Within that structure, players can draw connections between groups of words of varying sizes using clues they generated rather than cards made by the designer. 

The reason games like Codenames are so popular is that humans naturally draw connections between two or more ideas. It’s the easiest way to ask someone to be creative. In a drawing game, people will feel more comfortable drawing a line between two points than if they were simply asked to draw a straight line in space. In a clue giving game, asking someone to generate a clue that connects two words is much easier than asking them to come up with a random word without a prompt. 

Importantly, if a prompt combines two or more cards in a deck, the combinations of possible prompts in a game is much higher than if a prompt is a single word. Because even though Just One handles player creativity well, eventually a player may feel as though they’ve seen every word in the game. This is less of an issue with people who play with different groups, but people who play with the same group will not have the freshness of new perspectives added to subsequent plays. When I play Dixit with my husband, we just know how to clue the other in to certain cards, which makes the game less creative for us and more frustrating for our friends. 

Lastly and most importantly for games that require players to do more than come up with one word: consider adding a time limit. Drawing games go over better when everyone is equally bad. Timers are the best way to achieve this. Timers also free a player from worrying that they need to be more clever. Clever is good, but finishing on time is better. This is true for drawing games but also games that require players to come up with full sentences or other large chunks of creativity. 

To recap, boundaries need to be placed on player generated content that allows players to be creative without stressing about the need to be creative. Allowing players to make connections between two or more prompts allows for more variability and provides players with opportunity to connect concepts. Adding time limits prevents analysis paralysis and levels the playing field. 

For more ways of thinking beyond mechanisms, you can visit my blog at shipp board games dot blog spot dot com or catch future episodes of thinking beyond mechanisms on ludology.

TBM: Ep 15 EXTRAS

I hope I don't need to explain how lying and bluffing are different things. I go back to how lying games can be divisive a lot, but that's because I know people who are fine playing poker, but won't lie out loud. 

I think bluffing as a dynamic that arises from hidden information is more interesting than bluffing as a primary mechanic. Unsurprisingly, I'm not the biggest fan of social deduction games. (I think they're just fine.) 

My favorite form of bluffing is hidden goals, when all the possible goals are known but who is assigned to the goals is not known. On the other hand, I despise hidden goals when they are drawn from a deck, so the goals in play are not known until the end of the game. Misdirection is more fun when there is some information to go off of. 

TBM: Ep 15 script

In an attempt to transition out of hiatus, I will be posting the scripts of my Thinking Beyond Mechanisms segment. I don't plan to edit them, so there may be some differences between the audio and written versions. Take the audio as the correct version.

Bluffing 

Welcome to Thinking Beyond Mechanisms, an in depth look at the other aspects of game design, the segment that looks at some of the theory of board game design that goes beyond what typically gets covered when we learn how to design games. My name is Sarah Shipp and today I want to talk about bluffing.

Bluffing is one of the mechanisms that edges into player dynamics. Which is to say, bluffing may be a core game mechanism or it may arise naturally at the table due to other mechanisms. Additionally, some bluffing games are actually lying games, such as Sheriff of Nottingham, where players are instructed to speak aloud falsehoods. This spectrum of mechanisms and dynamics makes bluffing a little hard to nail down when you look past traditional gambling games. 

If you are designing a bluffing game, the first thing I would look at is if it is actually a lying game. A lot of players are fine with implying something untrue but balk at lying out loud. I have played with multiple people who simply will not lie in Sheriff of Nottingham, which is the main hook of the game. Other players may not like lying simply because they don’t want everyone’s attention on them. These are the players that also don’t enjoy roleplaying in their board games. There is nothing wrong with designing a lying mechanism into a game, but you need to be aware of these two types of players who will instantly dislike the mechanic. 

When designing a bluffing mechanism, it is easy to simply use existing gambling games as templates. However, there are several different ways to implement bluffing in board games that can work for a much broader swath of game structures. The three areas I have identified where you can introduce bluffing are hidden resources, hidden goals, and secret teams. 

Hidden resources is the type of bluffing we are the most familiar with. In poker, I have a hand of cards that I want you to believe is something other than what it actually is. The cards are my resources which I keep hidden from the other players. However, hidden resources could also refer to items in a bag, behind a screen, or face down on the table. In games where bluffing is a more central mechanism, I typically own the resources I am bluffing about, but any game with secret information that I can access may result in a bluffing dynamic. 

In Dune, one player gets to looks at the cards before a blind auction, putting that player in the position of knowing not just their own hand of cards, but eventually every one else’s as well. In contrast, Cockroach Poker has each player looking at cards before they are passed facedown to the next player. The mechanism in Cockroach Poker is really lying, because I am not implying but outright stating what card I want you to believe I have. However, Dune and Cockroach Poker illustrate the spectrum of player access to hidden information and how that can affect play dynamics. 

Hidden goals are similar to hidden resources, but usually the bluffing is more subtle and involves misdirection through game actions. Unlike with hidden resources, if I fail to bluff about my goals I am giving you the power to make me lose the game. Stock manipulation games may fall into this category. Clans, reimplemented as Fae, by Leo Colovini has players moving pieces across a map to group similarly colored pieces for scoring. All players can cause any color piece to score, but each player has a secret objective for a different color they want to win. Ex Libris has a more subtle mechanism where players must collect books of a certain color for one of the scoring conditions. In both instances, you don’t want to be obvious about which color you are going for while still trying to amass as many points as possible. 

Hidden goals may include goals that are shared such as which horse you are backing in Long Shot the dice game. Games with open information on player boards that are hard to see at a distance, such as in Long Shot the dice game, can create an environment conducive to misdirection and bluffing provided players don’t elect to double check each others’ boards as the game progresses. 

Secret teams is the type of bluffing found in social deduction games, but also games with a traitor. Secret teams is the less subtle version of hidden goals, and lying may come into play. Games with secret teams may also include hidden resources if secret information is passed among players, or hidden goals if a traitor is given a randomly drawn goal at the beginning of the game. 

Bluffing is a dynamic that can arise anytime there is hidden information in a game. You can leverage that dynamic to increase player interaction and game tension. But be aware if mechanics move into lying that some players will be turned off by that. 

For more ways of thinking beyond mechanisms, you can visit my blog at shipp board games dot blog spot dot com or catch future episodes of thinking beyond mechanisms on ludology.