[I gave this talk at GAMA. It builds on some of the topics in my book. The talk wasn't recorded, so here's the manuscript.]
Good morning, my name is Sarah Shipp and this is thematic integration in board game design. I don’t have slides so this is going to be an old school style talk. Some quick background on who I am and how come I’m up here talking about theme. I started designing in 2018, after googling how to design a board game. In 2019, I started my blog, shipp board games, not to talk about games I’m working on, but to work out my thoughts on board game design generally. In 2024, some of those thoughts became a book titled thematic integration in board game design.
Caveat emptor at the start of this: I don’t like to give the same talk or write about the same thing twice. I will be talking about a few concepts today that are not explicitly in my book but serve as additional framework for how to approach thematic design as well as some of the content in the book. I’m still working out my thoughts on thematic design. Also, there should be time for questions at the end, so please keep track of anywhere I’m confusing.
Raise your hand if you are a mechanics first designer. Raise your hand if you are a theme first designer. Raise your hand if you think that where you start designing isn’t nearly as important as where you end up. If you raised your hand, we can be friends.
When I got into board game design, the question of theme first or mechanics first was still raging. People were starting to talk about experience first design as an alternative. And integration was the buzzword for thematic designs.
What no one could explain however was what any of that meant. The best you could hope for were design postmortems that explained how theme was integrated or the experience was designed in that one very specific case.
My education background is in theatre so I’ve taken more than a half dozen design classes that teach foundational principles. You very likely have seen a list of UI/UX principles of design before, so you should be familiar with the concept of field specific design principles. Of course there are plenty of board game design resources that already existed while I was getting started. But, while game designers were working away at codifying mechanical design and exploring the new frontier of experience design, theme seemed to be left behind. And because I’ve studied how physical objects can tell a story, I thought I could attempt to open a dialogue around theme.
I did so by writing, first in my blog and then in a book. The book is titled Thematic Integration in Board game design, but I have always thought of it as A Handbook for Thematic Design. Basically, it’s a short reference guide and outline of basic principles around theme as I see them.
I approach design theory as a practitioner. Which is to say, I consider a useful definition to be better than an exact definition. That said, there’s one definition I will go to the mat on: the definition of the word theme as it pertains to board game design. Firstly, theme is a board game term of art, so we cannot rely on the Merriam Webster definition to explain how the term functions in our context. Secondly, I strongly disagree with the camp that defines theme as setting or-worse-window dressing, because that definition is incomplete to the point of being un-useful for designers. I want definitions for concepts that expand how we think about our designs and relegating theme to setting does the opposite, as I hope to explain throughout this talk. For the record, I don’t care how people outside of the board game design practitioner space define theme or other board game terms. My work is primarily aimed at designers, particularly those interested in engaging with design theory as a way to add to their toolbox.
With all of the caveats out of the way, my definition of theme is a subject in a setting with at least one connection point to the mechanics. A subject is the who doing the what in a game. A setting is the where. By considering both the active fiction and the world constraints of a game and how they connect to the mechanics we have a broader foundation to build upon.
The distinction between subject and setting matter, just like understanding the difference between a deck builder and a hand builder matters. A subject is not a setting. A setting is not a subject. Clank and Clank in Space have nearly the same subject but a different setting. The subject is thieves sneaking through an area trying to get as much loot as they can and get out. The setting of Clank is a cavern and the setting of Clank in Space is a space ship. Setting isn’t just location, but location is a huge piece of it. To take another example, Rex: the final days of an empire is set in the same universe as Twilight Imperium but the subject of Rex is more or less Dune. Think of it this way—the Marvel Universe is the setting including all characters, lore, locations, and timelines, Captain America fighting Red Skull is a subject.
And just to clarify, the theme of Clank in Space is not space. There is some confusion here because theme is often used as shorthand for thematic genre, but no fan of Clank would describe the theme without mentioning the actions taken by the characters. That would be like saying that a rom-com movie is about love; that may be true but is an unhelpful answer to the question “what is this movie about?”
Gamers might however mention the subject without the setting, because the subject is tied up in the actions and win conditions, aka the point of the game. As designers, we should consider both subject and setting because the setting grounds the subject in a set of norms and expectations: no you can’t go outside a space station without the proper equipment, no you cannot fast travel in medieval Europe. Just because the subject of a theme seems like the most important part doesn’t mean we can treat the setting as window dressing.
A game’s Subject describes what the characters do, a setting creates boundaries, and integration with mechanics makes players feel as though what they are doing mechanically is in fact part of the story. I’ll return to integration in a minute.
But first, let me pause for a moment to talk about what broadly makes games seem or feel thematic. There are two ways to measure or gauge the amount of theme in a game: simulation and story. These concepts align with setting and subject, as I will make clear. Increasing simulation within a game increases the thematic logic behind player actions. Trees grow taller, gravity pulls objects down, cars go faster than bikes do, etc. Simulation here is any sort of modeling that grounds the theme in a set of rules that are at least reminiscent of real world systems. War games are highly thematic when you use the simulation metric. Some heavy euro gamers argue that Lacerda is in fact a thematic designer because of the thematic logic simulated in the mechanisms. And they aren’t necessarily wrong to feel that way.
Simulation relies heavily on the rules of the thematic world. At first blush simulation may not seem to be tied closely to setting, but they accomplish the same thing. My favorite example of simulation in design is Superskill Pinball, a pinball simulation game by Geoff Engelstien, which doesn’t need much in the way of narrative elements (except in the expression of various themed maps). It does however make use of elements of setting. “Balls” move down the board to be bounced back up by flippers. While it clearly is modeling how pinball machines work in real life, it is also modeling real world physics such as gravity. System modeling is simulation is setting. I am referring here to simulation of systems; I will discuss smaller instances of simulation shortly.
The physics of a simulation- gravity, movement speed, oxygen availability, and even physical processes like hunger or growth- are aspects of setting. Puerto Rico the location does not grow indigo. The moon has no breathable atmosphere. Plants in winter receive less sunlight than in summer. These boundaries of various settings can and should inform your design. Part of the design process is selecting which boundaries you want reflected in your setting. Do you model gravity or do you abstract it away?
Simulation in setting isn’t just about the laws of physics. Simulation applies to any system, including social and political. I like to make gravity my standard example because gravity abstracts into simple mechanisms. Twilight Struggle is also a simulation, and a much more complex one.
So am I saying that simulations can’t also be stories? No, but I am saying that the focus of the game or the game’s overall experience will be different depending on which you prioritize. Prioritizing simulation make for a systems focused game. The goals and pacing of the game will be affected by that focus. Prioritizing story, the other main way to gauge amount of theme, means focusing more on game arc- the high and low moments- and narrative transportation. Accuracy in detail may be sacrificed in favor of creating more drama. A farming game isn’t inherently less thematic than an adventure game, the focus is different- which creates a different experience. This is why understanding the difference between subject and setting is important. When we understand the nuances of thematic expression we can be intentional in how we craft experiences.
Some gamers will emphatically tell you that games with more traditional story structure are the most thematic sorts of games. We all know that games can feel thematic while containing very little simulation. While some games employ lots of text and art to help create game narrative, I really want us as designers to get away from an over reliance on written lore to create theme. This is not to say it’s bad to have, just that being a good fiction writer is a different skill than being a good game designer and I believe better thematic games will ultimately come from better designs as opposed to better fiction.
There are ways to design story forward thematic games that don’t rely as much on lore. Often there is a greater share of metaphor employed in the mechanics of thematic games. The Grizzled is a game designed to give the experience of war trauma with almost no simulation and very little text. In The Grizzled, players are playing a fairly abstract push your luck game overlaid with communication limits similar to those in party games. And yet, the metaphor in the game makes for a moving experience.
In the Grizzled, players try to play out a deck of cards before the game timer runs out or a player receives too many trauma cards. The anxiety of the push your luck mechanism combines with the group concern for players who have received trauma cards. The metaphor of survival and maintaining morale in a bleak situation shines through in the gameplay.
I almost want to call this expression of theme a “thematic experience” but I think experience is too broad a term for what I mean. The Grizzled is still telling a story with characters who have goals and obstacles. It is the story that is moving. Without the thematic details around World War I and the traumas of war, the game would merely be another small box co-op, another push your luck game. I believe that low-simulation games that still feel thematic do so because they focus on conveying a story in the system. Low-simulation, low-story games are the games that get labeled as having pasted on themes.
Experience design does intersect strongly with thematic design. Mechanics create emotions during gameplay. By knowing what kinds of emotions are elicited by which mechanisms, designers can craft the emotional experience and atmosphere of a theme. But experience design goes beyond simulation and story. Abstract games are still experiences. Additionally, the mood or atmosphere of a game can bolster the theme but won’t support a theme by itself.
Quick review: thematic games can tell a story, simulate a system, provide an emotional experience, or some combination of the three, and also probably other things I haven’t thought of. Simulation is setting, story is subject.
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OK, all that sounds great in theory land, but what are some practical steps to integrating theme?
For many years, internet advice around theme was simply “just integrate the theme and mechanics”. Assuming that everyone can intuit how. Which many designers can, just like many brilliant musicians can’t read music. I wrote my book for everyone else. Board game design deserves codified principles just like every other art form.
So, what are some practical design tips for integrating theme? First and foremost, I get accused of being repetitive, but I will never get off this soapbox: The thematic win condition needs to match the mechanical win condition. If you tell players the theme of the game is a high stakes negotiation but the mechanics are set collection, your game will not feel thematic.
Sidebar: this does not mean your game is bad. I like many un-thematic games. But we’re discussing integration and your game will not have thematic integration without the win condition being thematic.
Taking that idea further, the goals and obstacles that the players face throughout the game should align with the goals and obstacles the characters face. A goal could be to collect a set of three items or defeat a boss or to pass a waypoint. Obstacles are what prevent you from accomplishing goals. You can’t complete the set unless you trade with another player. The boss can only be defeated if you first collect the right items to weaken it. You can’t pass the waypoint until you increase your movement speed. The goals and obstacles that are central to your theme need to be ones that help forward the story you are telling. A goal of hitting a point threshold or increasing your hand size or obstacles such as discarding cards or losing a turn often don’t connect back to the thematic world or the characters’ desires within that world. It’s ok to have some mechanics that exist outside the theme but in my opinion the majority of abstract mechanisms and rules should be relegated to upkeep tasks like shuffling and drawing cards and not be mechanisms central to how you win the game. Integration means that the player’s desire to win needs to align with the character’s desire to succeed.
Other people have described integration as “what you are doing in the game matching the narrative of the theme”. Gameplay has an emergent narrative that includes win conditions, player interaction, action economy, and so on. I go into detail in my book how even elements such as common player strategies provide possibilities for thematic integration. But the simplest way to view thematic integration is aligning the goals and obstacles of the mechanics with the goals and obstacles of the theme.
To connect that back to the definition of theme, goals and obstacles are components of a subject or you could say of a story. Goals and obstacles are also how games and traditional narratives generate conflict. I use the literary definition of conflict. You might remember learning the different forms of literary conflict in high school: man vs man, man vs nature, man vs god, etc. I’m sure they’ve updated the language since then. Conflict is the result of obstacles preventing someone from reaching their goals. For my purposes, a conflict free game is one without obstacles. This is another instance where I think that understanding the different possible definitions of a word help clarify what we mean, because people mean different things when they discuss conflict free games.
Goals, obstacles, and conflict are elements found in traditional narrative structure. I don’t think game themes require us to use all of the traditional narrative elements. Some games don’t have characters! However, it can be useful to borrow narrative language when discussing theme. When I mention the narrative of the theme, I don’t mean that themes need some semblance of three act structure. That’s not possible in most games. The story that your theme tells may be a vignette or slice of life or absurdist or have the complexity of a story a toddler would tell. I actually think that vignettes are a fairly good analog to the sorts of stories games excel at. The stories told by thematic games do have actions that move players past obstacles and towards goals, which are all narrative elements. Games usually have conflict, characters, settings, metaphors, exposition, and can easily have inciting incidents and denouements, which I discuss in the book.
All of this to say that a decent grounding in how stories can be told is useful to thematic game design but not required especially if your focus is simulation. The more strongly the player is supposed to identify with a character or characters or feel involved with the story of the game, the more attention you will want to pay to narrative elements that could help tell that story.
So while you can focus on a simulation or on a story you are trying to tell, either way, the goals, obstacles, and actions of the game should reflect your theme. And actions are the connective tissue between theme and mechanics, goals and obstacles.
Subject and setting, story and simulation are high level concepts of overall design direction. However, the implementation is in the details. I’ve already mentioned win conditions as one very important detail. Goals and obstacles are expressed by rules, mechanics, and actions. The atomic unit of gameplay is the action. Actions are what allow players to overcome obstacles and reach goals.
Mechanism can refer to a single action or an entire system. If the actions within a mechanism are not thematic, that mechanism is unlikely to be thematic. Some mechanisms are inherently difficult to theme. The most difficult are game mechanics that are performed by the player outside of the narrative of the theme. Drawing a card is almost never thematic unless you are playing a poker mini game in Western Legends. Some actions will always be abstract because they are actions performed by the player and not the character. I discuss this more in the book.
Actions that simulate a system or are performed by a character can express theme at a number of different levels. The first level is not at all, which I designate as mechanical actions. Mechanical actions are abstract and do not attempt to reflect theme. For example, the action draw a card.
If you label an abstract action with a thematic name, that is an associated action. Going up a track is the classic mechanic for an action associated with a theme that does not really feel thematic. This is another place I think designers need to really be aware of: better labeling is not necessarily going to make an abstract mechanism feel more thematic. Labeling can only do so much.
I divide actions that evoke theme into three categories. Metaphoric actions are not quite simulations, but evoke the feeling of the theme. Rolling a die to hit a baseball is a metaphor that contains the same emotional highs and lows of trying to actually hit a baseball. And yes, that means I am saying that rolling a die can feel thematic but that drawing a card usually doesn’t, in spite of the fact that cards can have art and dice are often just numbers. The presence of a metaphor matters more than art when it comes to theme. Revealing a card in an exploration game is fundamentally different than drawing a card in a drafting game.
The next action type is simulative actions. Simulative actions are simulations. Flicking a disc more accurately simulates the action of hitting a golf ball compared to rolling a die. However, systems that are simulations may contain a variety of action types. The word simulation is a bit fuzzy, but I take it to mean fidelity to details which could refer to an individual action or across an entire system. And yes, the line between metaphoric actions and simulative actions is likewise fuzzy. The intent is not to draw hard lines but to expand how we think about the role actions play in theming. Metaphors are about evoking emotions related to the theme, simulations are about the logic of the theme.
Beyond simulative actions are what I refer to as literal actions. Pretending to be a sketch artist in Monsdrawsity by actually producing a sketch based on a description is a step beyond simulation to me. You are actually literally performing the stated action, hence literal action. By and large, most thematic games are going to have a mix of the other four categories of action. But literal actions do crop up, often in party games weirdly enough.
If you are struggling with a design not feeling thematic enough, take a look at the kinds of actions present in the game. If the actions are largely mechanical or associated actions, you will need to look at finding mechanisms that better evoke the theme. I realize my background is theatre but I sound like an English teacher asking you to come up with some metaphors to convey the emotional content of your theme. Designing board games is a lot like writing poetry.
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In between actions and the high concepts of subject and setting, there is game structure. The overarching mechanical structure of a game determines which themes will work best. Recipe fulfillment games don’t lend themselves to an atmosphere of intrigue in a cloak and dagger theme. I think this is what designers miss when they say they have a system that could be themed with anything. Most systems fit certain types of themes better than other themes. Game systems have tension arcs, player dynamics, mental loads, etc. that much like actions and win conditions should be aligned with the tension, dynamics, and stresses of the theme.
For instance, co-operative games are better at conveying a feeling of horror or dread than competitive games. In competitive games, players are competing against someone they can see. They can read body language and use social pressure to attempt to gain an advantage in the game. In a co-op game, the competitor is a faceless system that has hidden information from the players. Any theme that leverages fear of the unknown tends to work well in co-operative games from horror to exploration.
This can get incredibly granular. Different types of co-ops are better suited to different themes. Multi-player solitaire and combat games are both genres of competitive games but with vastly different arcs and dynamics. Games with defined rounds usually have regular pauses for upkeep that other games may not have. That rhythm of gameplay will impact how the theme is conveyed, in addition to player interaction and game arc.
In my book, I list eight general structures that can be found in games and discuss how those structures affect the player experience and lend themselves to different themes. But you can just as easily rely on playing games and paying attention to which experiences felt a little off and which worked. This does require you to turn off the part of the designer brain that wants to only focus on mechanisms. It is possible for a game to feel thematic and also be mechanically unsatisfying. There is a fairly large audience of gamers who like mechanically loose, theme forward games, after all.
But let’s go over the basic game structures quickly anyway. There are two types of puzzle structures- puzzles with set solutions that you have to solve before you can progress and efficiency puzzles. Obviously, puzzle solving structures work well with themes that contain mystery or discovery. Efficiency puzzles often have expanding power arcs and/or diminishing choices and are often combined with simulation focused themes.
Cyclical structures contain events that recur throughout the game. Recipe fulfillment games are cyclical structures. Cyclical structures are usually less stressful than puzzle structures, although both structures can be present in the same game. Cyclical structures can be broad metaphors for the passage of time, so games with days or seasons benefit from having cycles.
There are two types of race structures- race to finish and what I call race to fill. A race to finish game is won by the first player to achieve a designated objective. A race to fill game is won by the first player to meet all the objectives, such as the first player to get a blackout bingo. Race games have built in thematic win conditions, because they are focused on goals and not points.
There are two types of conflict structures- open conflict and covert conflict. Open conflict has players seeking to eliminate other players or all players teaming up against the game. In open conflict games, which side the players are on is not secret. Covert conflict games use hidden information to obscure the conflict. Again, conflict games are usually goal focused which makes them easy to theme.
Lastly, some games have pivot points, where the first half of the game is one structure and the second half is another. Clank starts as an efficiency puzzle- get as much treasure as possible- then pivots to a race. I refer to this particular type of pivot point as grab the treasure and run, and we see it in other games like Deep Sea Adventure or Incan Gold. Sometimes, the pivot points are player controlled, such as in Dominion or other engine builders where players switch from building their engine to point churning part way through the game. Other times the pivot point is controlled by the game, such as in the game Bosk which has two distinct halves of gameplay. In the first half, players grow trees for points and in the second half they scatter leaves from the trees for points.
Again, these are discussed in the book.
Understanding the structure of a game helps to not only match it with themes that will mesh well but also helps with understanding the mechanical goals and obstacles. What is the point of a race game? Does the purpose of the theme match the point of having a race? The goal of an efficiency puzzle is efficiency. Efficiency is a good match for science and technology but may feel out of place in a game about snails.
Here are some questions to ask yourself about your design: Is the game more simulation or story focused? Does the mechanical structure lend itself to this theme? Do the actions convey the theme? Do the goals and obstacles of the game match the goals and obstacles of the thematic story?
If you can answer all of these questions, you probably have a good idea of how thematic your design is and what you may need to do in order to develop further. So let’s talk a little about development.
The number one question I’m asked after how I define theme is how to curate the thematic details in a game. I think this comes from a place of designers wanting to focus on story but getting caught up in the allure of simulation. Or from trying to meet playtesters expectations of a setting.
Framing your theme allows you to decide what story your game is telling, essentially drawing boundaries around your subject. This means deciding what the goals, obstacles, and actions of your characters are. It also means knowing what the most exciting or pivotal moments of the game are.
Your theme needs to hinge on the most exciting moments of gameplay. Thematic details that don’t support those moments or distract from them probably don’t need to be include in the system. If your theme tells the story of intense struggle between warring nations, holiday celebrations may be out of place as included thematic details. And if you tell me your theme is something exciting that isn’t present in the gameplay, you need to reevaluate what your theme actually is versus what you wish it was.
I like to focus on who the characters are that are taking actions, what do they want, and what are they doing to achieve what they want. Everything else is setting. By narrowing in on my subject and how that story pushes the high points of the game, I can filter what other details should be modeled in the mechanics.
Because the fact is, when you are designing a thematic game that focuses on story, your playtesters feedback is often going to be about the story and not the gameplay. So you need to know what your narrative framework is so you can filter the feedback through it. The story playtesters think they want may not be the one you want to tell.
In my experience, if multiple playtesters ask for the same thing, it means I may need to add some small gesture toward what they think is missing. It is the same principle as mitigating randomness. If a player says a game is too random, we generally don’t respond by removing all randomness. We start with small amounts of mitigation until the game feels fair to players.
When it comes to theme, adding a new card or even flavor text is often all that is required for the players to feel that a missing story element is in fact present in the theme. This is where art can do some of the heavy lifting for us: adding the details we don’t want to model but players want to see.
The calculus changes somewhat if a design is focused on simulation over story. But even then, games cannot simulate every aspect of a system so knowing what primary elements of the simulation are provides a similar framework. Simulation focussed games still tell a story of sorts but it is one further removed from traditional narrative elements.
This framing exercise is essentially a take on a design vision statement, but specifically focused on your theme and what experience you are trying to convey thematically. The theme of Sheriff of Nottingham is about declaring goods and bribery and smuggling. I know it was a retheme, but imagine if you will how superfluous an archery mechanic would be to the game. Yes, archery plays an important role in the setting, but the story of the game does not have room for that kind of tangent.
Once you have settled on a basic game structure and narrative frame, you will find that thematic design decisions are easier to make. Ideas that fit within both existing gameplay and the story can be added to the list of ideas to be playtested. Ideas that fall outside of those parameters can be rejected. And in my experience, the more thematic your game, the more ideas you will be suggested by playtesters that fall outside the scope of your story.
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There is one more topic I’d like to touch on today. Thematic integration has for so long been presented as the end goal of thematic design. Integrate the theme and the game will deliver a thematic experience. I would like to suggest that actually integration is the means to more creative ends, that once you are comfortable using mechanics and theme to tell stories a new design frontier opens up to you.
Once we have connected mechanical decisions with thematic decisions, we can start integrating players’ brains into our designs. For example, instead of avoiding loss aversion, we can explore the emotional impact of loss. Because the kinds of stories board games are best at telling are the stories about the impact of critical decisions and trade offs and loss. Whether or not you win a game hinges on decisions you make; wouldn’t it be exciting if important decisions were also critical to the theme?
You may be thinking that we don’t need theme in order to incorporate players into our design considerations. But stories are powerful motivators that can make players act counter to how they would otherwise. A player probably wouldn’t blink at discarding a generic special power in order to obtain a better one. However, if that special power is tied to your favorite comic book hero or Pokemon, discarding becomes a more difficult decision. It’s easier to discard a flat stat upgrade than Captain America. I ramped that tension all the way up in Deadly Dowagers, where I literally wed the player characters to NPCs with special powers then made the central decision of the game getting rid of those powers through mariticide.
Theme puts greater pressure on players to make the correct decisions for the story outcome and not simply in order to win. Decisions are powerful. In our daily lives, we can get decision fatigue, we can make pro and con lists, we can choose the path of least resistance or we can choose the road less traveled. Decisions shape every aspect of life. When we talk about meaningful decisions in board games we usually mean meaningful to the outcome of the game, but meaningful decisions can also mean exploring how we make decisions as people who are neither fully logical nor fully emotional.
Theme also ramps up the emotional range possible with a game. No one cries when a pawn is captured in chess. Every game that is sad or spooky or hopeful is a thematic game. Abstract games deliver emotional experiences but are limited to the emotions provided by the mechanics and dynamics. No one plays games in order to feel nothing. We are seeking social interaction, fun, surprise, even frustration because we know that frustration can be rewarding.
Thematic integration can play a role here. We can tie the emotions produced by the mechanics back into the theme. Instead of avoiding a frustrating moment in the game we can justify it with the theme. In Paleo, when you kill and eat a mammoth, that card is removed from play. As a result, food becomes more scarce throughout the game. Which is frustrating but ultimately enjoyable because the point of the game is to survive and OF COURSE you cannot eat an animal more than once. The anxiety of possibly losing a co-operative game and the anxiety of a survival theme reinforce each other. Paleo, by the way, is an excellent example of a game that tells interesting stories without the written word.
Theme makes for more interesting decisions and broader emotional experiences. Theme can be educational by tricking more than a million people into reading a bunch of bird facts while playing an engine building game. But theme can also teach us about the limits of free will in a chaotic world or a highly structured society. Player agency is a term that gets thrown around a lot but it too can be integrated into the theme. I’m honestly surprised there aren’t more games about rebelling against repressive societies because the parallels between restricting player agency and oppression are a fertile ground for design.
Players are the most complex components of games. As such they are the most challenging aspect of design but also the most interesting. Any mental process, emotion, or experience can theoretically be modeled in a board game. Not every game needs to entail weighty decisions and dark emotions. But expanding our tool box means we can make cozy games cozier, conflict games tenser, or in the case of Root, conflict games cozier, because we understand how to use theme to adjust the overall emotional experience. And yes, I am talking about the theme of Root not just the art. The art supports the theme, but the theme would still be more approachable than your average war game even with different art.
To me, theme is about expanding the toolbox of possible player experiences. Understanding the ways mechanics relate to theme not only makes designing thematic games easier, but it allows us to tell richer stories and provide more varied experiences. Incorporating story and simulation, subject and setting gives us a wider perspective on integration. Understanding how actions and structure interacts with theme gives us diagnostic tools for development. Narrative framing and player immersion allow us to tell simultaneously more focused stories that are also richer and more compelling.
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