Can I say how much I love the Mass Effect games?  Seriously, I adore them.  Not only are they fun games, but it’s great to enjoy an original universe.  There’s just so much to like here.  What I love best though is that the game seriously avoids the Planet of Hats phenomenon.  One of the most difficult elements of fantasy / sci fi is to not end up portraying all the members of an alien race or culture as one-dimensional.  Whether it’s aloof elves, logical vulcans, or gruff dwarves, the tendency in fiction is to give all the human characters nuance and subtle differences while pretty much assuming that every romulan is a scheming jerk and every dwarf loves fighting and booze.

But in the Mass Effect universe, this is averted pretty hard.  The alien characters you run into exhibit a wide variety of personalities, and there’s every indication that every alien culture, just like human culture, is full of its own sub-cultures and attitudes.  The war-like Krogan are perhaps the most one-dimensional in their portrayal, but even then, they tend to have a wide range of philosophies and personalities.  And even the sinister geth, a race of evil robots, aren’t quite so one-dimensionally evil as you might first assume.  About the only genuinely “evil” race in the game are the Reapers, but even they are portrayed as just so utterly inhuman and different as to view every other species as merely lower animals.

It’s the kind of writing you just don’t see very often.  I just hope that it’s not an anomaly but a future trend.

The other thing about Mass Effect that amazes me is that the game becomes the game you want to play.  It is a truly interactive storytelling medium.  It’s like a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure book, but with no wrong answers, no bad decisions.  You can’t lose because you pick the wrong door or you say the wrong thing at the wrong time.  You can only alter the story into something else.  That it does this so seamlessly is astounding to me.

My own character, Zala Shepherd, is a female Vanguard with dark skin and a no-nonsense approach.  She is deliberately not super attractive because I thought it’d be cool to play a hero you just don’t see in many other games.  I ended up with a woman who is of vaguely Indian descent who charges in, guns blazing.  Her personality has evolved into a strong-willed, ethical warrior who believes in preserving life of all types and doing the right thing whenever possible.  But she’s also no sucker and will do what needs to be done, make the tough choices, when required of her.

She is such a real and vibrant character to me that it seems unbelievable that someone could play Mass Effect and have an entirely different experience.  It’s like picking up a book or watching a movie and having it adjust itself to you and your desires.  It’s both amazing and bizarre.  While talking to a friend of mine about the game, it was like we were  playing two different games.  The framework remains the same, but the execution is everything.

It’s a shame that Bioware went on to make the Star Wars MMO because, while I have no interest in Star Wars, I would play a Mass Effect MMO in a heartbeat.  About the only thing that could top a tauren would be a chance to be a Krogan.  Or a Turian.  Or a Salarian.  Or a Quarian.  Well, heck, I’d even play a human if I had to.  That’s how much I love Mass Effect.

But enough about that.  You’re not here to read my endorsement of a game that everyone already knows about.  Let’s talk about A. LEE MARTINEZ APPRECIATION DAY!!

It’s tomorrow, but you already knew that.

As is tradition, this is the day when you get friends and family together, play a board game or two, watch a monster movie OR a superhero movie, and then push my books on people.  You can buy the books.  Or you loan them.  Or tweet about them.  Or blog.  Or just mention how awesome they are to strangers on the street.  Whatever works best for you.  The great thing about A. LEE MARTINEZ APPRECIATION DAY!! is that there’s no wrong way to celebrate.  Just as long as you take a moment to remember how cool I am and how much I’ve given to you.

And all I ask for in return is your unfettered adoration and a paycheck every now and then.  Now, isn’t that reasonable of me?

Keelah Se’lai, everybody.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Anyway, I’m still working on my top secret project I’m not allowed to talk about.  So why bring it up?  Because what’s the point of working on a top secret project if you can’t mention it?  This is probably why I’d be a lousy spy.  The details will remain undisclosed, but I’m optimistic at this stage that this could be awesome.  I could be wrong.  It’s happened once or twice before.

But while I have a free moment, I figured I’d drop by, confirm that I am still alive, and maybe share some random thoughts.  People do seem to like that sort of thing.  Maybe because as a sort of famous person, they’re under the illusion I have something interesting to say.  Or maybe we all have something interesting to say, and I just happen to be lucky enough to have an audience.

So I’ve been playing Skylanders on my Wii.  If you’re unfamiliar with it, it’s a video game with a gimmick.  You get a wireless “portal” device that connects to your system and when you put the Skylander figures onto the portal, they appear in your game as characters for you to control.  Think of it as Pokemon, but without having to capture the damn things and instead just going out and buying them.  It is a gimmick, and psychologically, it should be annoying that you’re basically paying to unlock things that are already in the game.  But it’s a tremendously charming game with a lot going for it.

For one thing, the game is a bit old school and aimed at a younger audience.  It’s not tremendously difficult and most of the levels are straightforward, even if there is a bit of puzzles here and there.  For some reason, Skylanders reminds me a lot of that old classic Gauntlet.  Only instead of running around in a dungeon with four characters to choose from, there are 32 different Skylanders (if you should happen to buy them all).

What elevates this beyond a gimmick for me is that the game is genuinely fun to play.  And each character has their own unique style.  They aren’t just interchangeable with different special effects.  Trigger Happy carries a pair of pistols that shoot gold coins and can spray the screen with a deadly barrage.  Meanwhile, Terrafin is a landshark who can swim through rock and punch the enemy with tremendous force.  The more you play the game, the more you unlock on the characters.  It’s all a very elaborate system of enticement, but so cleverly done that it seems rewarding rather than manipulative.

It’s the difference between a game with a gimmick and a gimmicky game.  Skylanders is certainly designed to sell collectible figures, but they went above and beyond to create a fun experience that continues to reward me.  If I were less secure, I might feel weird admitting how much I’m enjoying a game aimed at kids, but I’m a professional novelologist.  And I fear the day I can’t see the beauty of playing a game where I can be anything from a rock dinosaur to a cyber dragon to a very angry tree who spits out giant spiked acorns that he rolls over the forces of evil.

Meanwhile, I’ve also been enjoying Castle Empire Online, a free online game that’s about managing a small kingdom.  It’s a different animal than Skylanders, but fun.  Worth checking out, if you’re so inclined.  I play under the name EmperorMollusk.  Send me a friend request.  Maybe I’ll trade you some fish for coal.  (I’m always short on coal.)

But what about the real world?  What’s going on there?

How quaint of you to ask.

Got that secret project thing.  Hush hush.  But it’s coming along.

Working on Helen and Troy’s Epic Road Quest, my next manuscript (prob out in 2013).

Oh, and that Mack Megaton story…it’s still coming.  I promise.

Finally, I’d like to offer my thoughts on the topic of skepticism.  The problem with your average person’s view of skepticism is that it seems to mean “Non-Believer”.  When I say I’m skeptical of ghosts, for instance, it’s often assumed I don’t believe ghosts exist.  In point of fact, I am a genuine skeptic when it comes to the paranormal.  I remain unconvinced but open to it.

And, yes, I understand there there is “evidence” for the paranormal.  It’s just not very good evidence.  And it certainly isn’t very convincing evidence for any particular claim.  This isn’t to say that those claims are wrong.  It’s just that they remain so ill-defined as to honestly admit they are specious at best.  The difficulty I have with “the paranormal” is that no one who believes it genuinely seems to be investigating it in an open way.  Instead, they have their pet theory that they are trying to prove.  That’s just bad research.

For example, perhaps electronic voice phenomenon is a real thing, and we are managing to record the voices of invisible beings around us.  This could mean a hundred things though.  Perhaps there are alien entities from another dimension trying to make contact with us.  Perhaps mischievous imps are playing tricks on us.  Or perhaps they are psychic imprints created by the will of the living investigators.  When it comes to the paranormal, none of these explanations seems unreasonable to me.  Or they could all be wrong.

This is why I am skeptical.  Even if you capture a genuine EVP, it could be something we haven’t even thought of yet.  There are so many possibilities, the only genuinely honest thing to do is to record the result and keep investigating.

Inevitably, someone will tell me I am being too closed minded.  But it’s actually the opposite.  I’m so open minded about what it COULD be that I have a hard time just declaring what it is as if I actually knew.  The believer is often the one who seems closed minded to me, willing to stretch any and all evidence toward their pet theory, ignoring any possibility outside of that.

As an experiment, I suggest watching different ghost hunting shows.  What’s most surprising about the shows isn’t that they find “evidence”, but the type of “evidence” they find.  Each show tends to find the kind of ghosts they’re looking for, regardless of their location.  The less dangerous spirits of Ghost Hunters never seem to cross paths with the more terrifying specters of Ghost Adventures.  And the outright malevolent forces of Paranormal State never seem to show up in any episodes of Fact or Faked.

Skeptically, it could be argued that perhaps that’s the way the supernatural works.  Perhaps different facets of the paranormal respond to different people.  Perhaps my very skepticism is what prevents me from seeing any evidence for myself.  Or perhaps it’s all just our primitive imagination responding to spooky sounds and unfamiliar locations.  Or perhaps we’re all just brains floating in a giant shared simulation and some people have their experience settings dialed to monster.

That’s skepticism.  Far too extreme to be practical, of course.  But just want to put it out there.

My general rule is that if the evidence could just as easily apply to leprechauns, then I remain unconvinced.  Lights in the skies could be alien spaceships.  Or the fey folk playing tricks on us.  Until we actually have a flying saucer or a faerie in our possession, we can’t know for sure.

Although I do still believe that Bigfoot is just Chupacapbra in a suit.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

But while Flying Frog’s games are always strange and unique, they are still a young company learning the ropes.  Every game they make gets better and better, and while they have a default system of rules that they seem to rely on, that’s not really a bad thing.  It certainly makes their games easy to learn, and it’s a flexible enough system that it works well for a variety of games.

The other thing I enjoy about Flying Frog is that they have ambition, and that ambition is front and center for their latest game, Fortune and Glory.  This is a big production from a small company, and for their chutzpah alone, they deserve some credit.  But that they’ve learned a lot from their previous games is obvious, and this is a solid fun experience.

Fortune and Glory is subtitled The Cliffhanger Game.  It’s a thematic homage to classic pulp adventure tales where two-fisted heroes fight evil Nazis and bust the mob as they search the earth for ancient artifacts.  If you’ve ever thrilled to the adventures of globe-trotting adventurers or enjoyed watching villains getting punched for justice, then this game could be right up your alley.

Every player takes on the role of a hero adventurer.  It’s a wide cast of characters, ranging from Jacques the French Scoundrel to Li the Chinese Lounge Singer and Sharon the American Reporter.  There’s also a Hemmingway homage, a daring pilot, a plucky race car driver, and an English lord.  Each character has their own strengths and weaknesses though given the random nature of the game, it’s not like one is noticeably stronger than the others.

The goal of the game is to gather a set amount of “Fortune” and return home a hero.  Mostly heroes accomplish this by traveling the world and gathering lost treasures.  Exploring hidden locations is basically a push-your-luck affair.  The more daring you are, the faster you can gather those treasures.  Unless your overconfidence gets you knocked back to your home city to lick your wounds.

The system is as simple as drawing a card and facing a danger.  The dangers are all classic pulpy adventures.  Things like sneaking aboard a Nazi blimp, deciphering ancient puzzles, fighting mobsters and monsters, car chases, and so on.  Usually you’re presented a choice.  If you’re exploring a dark cave, you can either try to use your cunning to avoid things lurking in the dark OR you can just go ahead and fight.  If you succeed on your choice, you get some “Glory” and progress on your adventure.  If you fail…

Here’s where the game is really very fun.  Every danger card is double-sided.  If you fail at your danger, the card is flipped over to reveal a cliffhanger that remains unresolved until your next turn.  Not only does this fit very well with a classic serial atmosphere, it also gives every danger a sense of uncertainty.  There are multiple versions of every danger, each with a different cliffhanger on its back.  So you won’t really know if those strange statues are going to shoot darts poison darts OR if they’ll come alive and attack you.

The game offers several options to players.  There’s the standard competitive mode where players are working against each other.  This can be fun because heroes can’t directly attack each other, but they can certainly race each other to the valuable artifacts.  It’s thrilling (well, as thrilling as a board game can be) to have two or more competing heroes braving dangers, one after the other, deciding whether to play it safe or try to get ahead of their opponent.

There’s also cooperative mode, where all the heroes work together to stop an evil organization from stealing enough artifacts to enact their nefarious schemes.  There are two organizations: The Nazis and the Mob.  Each functions in a different style, with their own henchmen and leaders.  Not only does this put extra pressure on the heroes as they race to stop the villains from robbing secret temples, but it gives even more options.  Heroes can storm enemy bases, steal back artifacts, and otherwise battle minions scattered on the board.

Finally, there’s the team game, where players divide into teams of heroes and try to beat each other.  You can also play solo (with a lone or multiple heroes) and have a very fun experience.

There are optional rules as well to keep the game interesting and customizable.  Even in the competitive game, you can have a zeppelin floating around the globe, scattering Nazis, while it gathers Fortune.  And yes, you can go ahead and try to steal some of that back if you’re braving enough.

Fortune and Glory has a few weaknesses.  For one, it’s an expensive game.  Since Flying Frog is a small game company and this is a BIG game with lots of cards and plastic, it has a hefty price tag.  Even if the theme appeals to you, it’s not something a casual game fan is going to consider.  Add to this that it is a game full of ups and downs and a lot of randomization, many serious game players are going to find it too unpredictable.

Also, I’m not a fan of the cards Flying Frog uses.  They’re a thick stock (which is good), but tend to stick together for the first few games.

Flying Frog uses photo art for its games, and it creates a peculiar visual style.  I didn’t initially like it, but it did eventually win me over.  But it might not be to everyone’s tastes.

But at the end of the day, Fortune and Glory is a fun, unique game with a lot going for it.  The game really convinced me it was cool when I ran to South America to fight Icebox, the notorious mob hitman, for The Sword of the Monkey God.  After a thrilling car chase and infiltrating a secret Nazi base, I managed to snatch it away from the mob just in the nick of time.  And I got to punch a Nazi flamethrower team while I was at it.

If that sounds like something you might enjoy, then this could be the game for you.

One of the reasons I don’t like being considered a silly writer is that it lowers the bar.  Silly is fine, but it’s just a trifling thing.  It will always be considered unimportant.  And to some degree that’s to my advantage.  If someone reads a story of mine with no other expectation than to be entertained by some strange humor or weird situations, then it’s a standard I can usually meet.  If I was purely out to make a buck, then I’d be perfectly happy with that standard.  It’s not especially challenging, and others have built a career out of this kind of escapist fiction.  Writers I even admire.

But I have to admit, it bugs me to be thought of as slight and hollow.  I’m not writing the most meaningful fiction in the universe, and I’m certainly not out to change the world with my stories.  But they aren’t just stupid stories.  Not to me, at least.

What’s often frustrating to me isn’t my own writing and its reception, but the reception and excuse-making of other writings.  It annoys me to no end when someone excuses bad writing because a story is dumb and I shouldn’t expect it to be good.  It bugs me even more when a writer makes the same excuse.  In my last post, I mentioned my disappointment that DC Comics took the previously established short and stout Amanda Waller and turned her into another supermodel.  I’ve heard more than one comment on other sites that people are making too big deal about this, that comic book superheroes are “escapism” and who really cares if every single character is traditionally thin and good-looking?

I care.  And so do other people.

The notion that comic books are a lesser form of media and as such, are given free reign to avoid diversity is a false one.  I’m not saying I want comic book superheroes to go out of their way to be relevant and important, but just because they’re stories about people in funny costumes fighting aliens and evil clowns, that doesn’t excuse an outright hostility toward non-traditional character types.

The thing about escapism, about silliness, is that it actually matters a whole hell of a lot.  Because as much as we want to believe there’s a separation between meaningful media and silly media, there isn’t.  Both have tremendous influence on us as a culture and how we perceive things.  In fact, I sometimes think silly, escapist media is even more influential.  Because meaningful media is stuff we’re supposed to like, but escapist media is stuff we seek out.

This is why I’ve never bought in the idea that something like Jersey Shore or The Real Housewives as being meaningless candy.  More people have probably watched these shows than the latest academy award winning movie.  And regardless of how much we might pretend to laugh at the people who star in those shows, there’s no denying their influence.  You can bet there are plenty of folks who model their personalities after the morons of Jersey Shore.  And why should that be surprising?  People lined up in droves to get “The Rachel” haircut while Friends was popular.  And Marlon Brando made leather jackets cool.  We are influenced by our media, whether we admit it or not, and escapist, entertaining media is what we most often seek out and imitate.

All artists have a responsibility, even if they deny it.  When I wrote Gil’s All Fright Diner it wasn’t my intention to insult anyone with the fat jokes at Loretta’s expense.  I still stand by the book and think she’s a great character.  But it doesn’t change the fact that some people were put off by it, and I can certainly see why.  More importantly, if my response to their anger was a dismissive “Well, it’s just a silly story so get over it” I’d be guilty of ducking the responsibility.  After all, Gil’s is probably still my most popular novel.  It won several prominent bits of recognition.  So it’s hypocritical to say that it’s “silly, inconsequential” when it suits me, and “smart, clever” at other times.

It’s a paradox of sorts.  Shows like Jersey Shore, Real Housewives, etc. are popular and make a lot of money.  And they make a lot of money because people watch them.  But if confronted with their influence, producers and stars will often say they’re just TV shows and they don’t matter.  So apparently they matter enough that they earn millions of dollars but not enough that they actually have any influence on our culture.

In Bruce Campbell’s great autobiography, If Chins Could Kill, he observed that he once got a letter from someone who said his television show, The Adventures of Brisco County Jr., had saved their life.  Campbell was deeply flattered, but also reluctant to accept this.  He understood that if you take credit for saving someone’s life, you have to also be ready to take credit for the opposite,  Yet media is quick to do exactly that.

Even if I am just a silly writer, I refuse to embrace the label because it would mean that my work, my art, would be ultimately meaningless.  But I don’t write meaningless stories.  I write from a certain point of view, and I have influence, whether I want it or not.  Even the stupidest story means something to someone.  Even the most mindless piece of art can affect someone in profound ways.  And the artist can’t deny that responsibility when it suits him.

But this isn’t just about art and media.  This is about all of us.  We are all tremendously influential, whether we realize it or not.  Our kind words can make all the difference in the world.  Our bad moods can spread like wildfire.  Our fears, our loves, our compassion, our disgust, these things aren’t self-contained.  They reach out and touch everyone around us.

Sure, as a novelologist, I have a larger reach than most people.  And if my career continues to grow, that influence will grow with it.  The more money I make, the more fame I gather, the less comfortable I am with the idea that I’m merely a silly writer of insubstantial stories.  And as I ponder the nature of media in this day and age, too many people try to avoid their obvious affect on our society even as they cash the huge checks that come with that influence.

There are no silly stories, no meaningless cotton candy entertainment.  It all goes into the cultural mix, and while that doesn’t mean every story has to be conscientious, uplifting, or insightful, it does mean that we can’t dismiss any of it as unimportant just because it’s about superheroes, robots, or egotistical chumps from New Jersey.  Because it all matters.

There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a little light entertainment, a little frivolity and silly escapism.  But escapist does not equal meaningless.  And while not every story can (or even should) be culturally enlightening, every story that reaches the world shapes it somehow.

We are who we admire, who we pretend to be.  We model ourselves and our world after our art.  Art imitates life, but life imitates art.  And if you’re confident on which has more influence on which, congratulations on that.  I’m not so sure.

All I know is that if being taken seriously as a writer means taking lumps for intended and unintended influence, it’s a burden I bear gladly compared to the alternative.  Although really, I don’t have any other choice.

None of us do.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

I thought I’d go ahead and review a great new kaiju-themed game from iello (yeah, I don’t think it’s capitalized).  It’s called King of Tokyo and if you’re looking for a fun, fast game with a neat theme, you could do a lot worse.

Anyone who knows me knows there are two things I love.  Kaiju stories and tabletop games.  And when those two things combine, it’s usually enough to put a smile on my face.  I own several kaiju-themed board games already.  Monsterpocalypse remains a favorite (though sadly, a movie deal has put the breaks on the actual game, which is very disappointing), and I own both Monsters Menace America and its inspirational predecessor Monsters Ravage America.  But King of Tokyo is my first monster-themed dice game, and it’s a great little game.

Each player takes the role of a giant monster out to become undisputed King of Tokyo by either gaining 20 victory points or being the last monster standing.  It’s a game for 2 to 6 players, and plays in about 30 minutes.  Actually, it prob only takes 30 minutes if you play with the full 6 players.  So far, most of my games have been 2 player affairs, and games take 15 minutes at the most.  My 3 player games took perhaps 20 minutes.

This is a dice game, and the basics of game play will be familiar to anyone with even a passing acquaintance with the idea.  You roll 6 large special dice and go for combos.  Depending on what you end up with, you can score victory points, heal your monster, gain energy, or attack other monsters.  It is a very simple system and doesn’t take five minutes to explain.  This is a game that everyone can be playing within minutes, and even if you aren’t a kaiju fan, it’s solid enough that it shouldn’t matter.  It certainly doesn’t wear out its welcome, and you’ll be likely to want to play again after the first time.

But the game’s simplicity is deceptive.  For a light game, there are plenty of decisions to be made.  One of the best elements to me is the monster cards that you purchase with energy.  These weird mutations can change the game in various ways.  Perhaps your monster will grow an extra head (and get to roll an extra die every turn because of it) or develop the deadly acid attack (inflicting extra damage every turn).  There are also great targets of opportunity to score extra victory points, provided you have the energy to topple a skyscraper or eat an apartment building.

But the big choice is found in claiming Tokyo itself.  A monster in Tokyo is a target for every other monster in the game, but he’s also able to dish out damage to all the other monsters in the game.  As the game progresses, monsters will fight over Tokyo in a battle royale, a constant back and forth.

Production on the game is top-notch.  I’ve heard some reports of faulty components, but mine were all in great condition.  In a game like this, presentation goes a long way, and the art and card descriptions are just wonderful.  The stand up monster figures are bright and cartoony and very evocative, and the health / victory point tracker is a cool little device.  My only complaint would be about the dice themselves, which will probably wear out over time faster than normal dice.  But ordinary six-sided dice could easily be substituted if required.

The bottom line is this is a fun, furious, giant monster-themed slugfest that has tremendous appeal if you love kaiju.  And even if you don’t, it’s still a cool game that is a perfect quick game with enough strategy to keep you interested and enough luck to keep it unpredictable.

My recommendation:  Buy it.

I don’t just love games because they are fun to play though.  I love them because they are a way at looking at the universe, of understanding the fundamental nature of this thing we call reality.  All games are just systems of rules, of balances of risk versus reward, of goal setting,  And aren’t those all things that apply to this thing we call life?

And then there are dice.

For most people, dice are such a closely associated element of board games, they might be surprised at just how many game players hate them.  Really.  There’s an entire class of players who hate any form of randomness.  They want games that are safe, predictable.  Where every strategy is equally viable and every path to victory as simple as following steps one, two, three.  They hate the idea that their most carefully laid plans will be destroyed by one bad roll.

Maybe it’s because they’re control freaks.  Or maybe it’s because it sucks watching your army of little plastic soldiers get slaughtered by an unsympathetic die roll.  Or maybe they just hate the fact that the universe doesn’t give a damn how clever you are.  Sometimes, it’ll crush everything you’ve worked for, and there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop it.

Einstein was wrong.  God does play dice with the universe.

The dice has always represented the random, the chaotic, the entropic nature of reality itself.  We are never in full control of our lives.  We are always plotting and planning and pretending like we can bend the universe to our will if we just believe it enough, work hard enough, have enough drive.  But it really only takes one bad die roll to remind you how our best laid plans can fall apart in a moment.  Or one good one to remind us that sometimes we succeed despite ourselves.

I embrace dice.  I love the dice, even if they don’t always love me back.  But sometimes, they do.  Never consistently.  Their affections are fleeting, their wrath always constantly hanging over my head.  The dice remind me that I am not in charge of my own destiny.  At least, not fully.  And that life is full of random rewards and penalties.   You will lose through no fault of your own.  And win too.

Mostly though, I’m reminded that the dice don’t care either way, and that there’s neither malice or joy in their actions.  When everything is going my way and they turn against me, I curse their existence.  And when they turn defeat into victory, I praise them for their generosity.  And when they do exactly what they’re expected to do, I don’t even pay much attention to them.

It’s foolish to rely on the dice, but it’s just as foolish to ignore them.  Because at the end of the day, we all live with them.  Even when we’re not playing games at all.

My answer is a resounding yes.

Rune Age starts with the same basic nature of all deck building type games.  If you’re unfamiliar with this new genre of game, all the players start the game with a basic deck of cards.  Over the course of the game, they draft different cards to add to their decks while whittling away less useful cards until eventually the game is over.  The action is simple, and players strive to create the most effective deck as time goes on.

So what makes Rune Age different than its fellow deck builders?  Plenty, and that’s what might just make it my new favorite of the genre.

To begin with, Rune Age has a real war game type feel to it.  Each player chooses a faction, and each faction has its own specific units to build its army from.  Each army type has its own feel, and each must strive to find a reliable balance of weak and strong cards.  Players send their armies to attack each other, siege city cards, and often, enemy objectives that will appear as the game progresses.  While it is an abstract war game, it certainly has that war game thrill of sending armies into battle.

Rune Age also has two types of commodities to buy cards.  It has Gold, used to buy your army cards, and Influence, used to gain more gold and powerful neutral cards available to everyone (though in limited amounts).  Influence is highly valuable and the only way to really get it is to control neutral cities.  But neutral cities are never truly secure.  While initially difficult to conquer (but predictable), once they are under your control, you have to be able to defend them or else, lose them to other ambitious players.

Like all deck building games, there’s a balance to the cards you draft.  Draft too many units, and you’ll without reliable Gold (and thus, unable to expand your army).  Buy too much Gold, and you’ll find your army isn’t big enough to come to your rescue.  But beyond this, Rune Age has tactical decisions to be made during your turn.  Do you siege an enemy city?  Use your influence to bring a powerful dragon to your side?  Or fill your treasury with more Gold cards to help build up your army?  Do you launch a diversionary attack, meant to weaken your opponent before attacking your real target?  Or do you go all in against a single objective?  And dare you risk attacking the final Objective card in a gamble that could win the game for you or end up crushing at your pathetic forces?

What makes Rune Age particularly interesting is that “weak” cards remain valuable throughout the game.  Even the lowliest foot soldier can remain worthwhile (if only to have a card to sacrifice on the front line), and sometimes, it’s worth having a few cheap Gold cards in your hand to pay off your Manticore’s special ability or power your Siege Engines.

A very cool rule worth mentioning is that Influence can be spent to hold onto cards at the end of your turn (which are normally discarded).  Thus, an influential player can develop a reliably stronger hand.  Especially if no one is attacking him.

Finally, the topper on this game is the Scenarios.  There are four different Scenarios, each with their own win condition as well as play style.  They are:

The Resurgence of the Dragonlords: a competitive battle to build a powerful enough army to repel the dragonlords.  Players are less concerned with attacking each other, though fighting over cities isn’t uncommon in the struggle for precious influence.  However, the dragonlords are not sitting idly by, and if players fight too much amongst themselves or simply take too long getting their act together, the dragonlords can win and all the players can lose.

Rune Wars: the most directly antagonistic scenario where players are trying to be the last faction standing.  The event deck in this scenario forces aggressive play, and while players will once again struggle over Influence, they’re ultimately out to destroy the other players and steal their valuable runestones.

The Cataclysm: a completely cooperative experience (though players can still attack each other’s cities if they really want that Influence) in which all players must survive to the end of a certain amount of turns as the world itself falls into chaos.  If one player is eliminated, all players lose.

The Monument: a less directly competitive scenario where each player is racing to get enough Gold to complete their holy monument and please the gods.  More indirectly competitive since Gold is the key and direct confrontation is forbidden.  Though those precious neutral cities are still up for grabs.

Each Scenario offers something for everyone.  Not only does it give the game a lot of replay value, it also allows the game to be adjusted to whatever most suits your group of players.  Some players will love the direct confrontation of Rune Wars, while others will enjoy the more tense Dragonlords struggle where you can’t trust the other players and the game itself is out to get you.  The options are very well thought out and a lot of fun.

Two of the scenarios are perfectly suited for solo play even, without having to really change the rules at all.

Rune Age is similar enough to any other deck building game that if you’ve played the genre, you will be able to understand it in a minute.  It’s easy to teach if you haven’t.  But it also brings enough new to the table that I have to give it my highest recommendation.  It’s not just about building a great deck.  It’s about fighting great battles, about making strategic decisions of how best to employ your forces, and about balance.

Bottom line: It’s terrific and one of the best new games I’ve played in a while.  And I’ve played some really great games recently.  I give it my highest recommendation.  So if you’ve played a game like this before, you might want to give Rune Age a shot.  And if you haven’t, this would be a great first step into the genre.

Check it out.  Thank me later.

There are plenty of great game sites out there already, but most people don’t stumble upon them unless they are already looking for them, so if I can use my meager amount of fame to introduce hapless strangers to the wonders of traditional card and board games, then I might as well do so.

Today, I’d like to review Scrumbrawl from Vic-Tim Games (www.scrumbrawl.com).  I met the guys at Vic-Tim at a convention a while back, after I’d already bought and played the game.  I’d promised them a review at one point, and then life got in the way.  But better late than never.

Scrumbrawl’s theme is that of a fantasy sport where various magical characters battle it out in a chaotic arena, trying to score points by getting the ball to the goal and defeating other players on the field.  Chaos is the operative word.  This is a game where everything can change in a moment and often does.  Perhaps one second, your team will get struck down by a lightning bolt or smacked by an angry ghost.  And teams will be cycling through players constantly, so no matter how cool that Chimera or Amazon might seem, don’t bother getting too attached to them because odds are good they won’t be long for the arena.

If you don’t like randomness, stay away from Scrumbrawl.  It is this concept personified.  The game is meant to be sat down and played without concern for long-term strategy.  Instead, it’s a fast and furious battle where players dive right in and start fighting for glory.  This is its biggest strength.  Not since the forgotten classic Battleball have I played a game where I can just jump into the action.  This means that Scrumbrawl is a great game for casual play and for introducing to players who are new to gaming.

In comparison, I really enjoy Privateer Press’s Grind fantasy sport game.  It has more meat to it.  On the other hand, I’ve had trouble teaching people Grind, where Scrumbrawl is as simple as set a few tokens on the board, draw a few cards, and start playing.  The rules can easily be taught as you play, and that’s a great thing.

Scrumbrawl is a terrific casual game.  It’s fast and furious enough that it’s always entertaining, chaotic enough that it discourages players from getting stuck in overthinking things, and easy enough that the rules can be learned without pain.  But this could be said about a lot of games, so what is unique about Scrumbrawl?

It has great presentation.  The cards and figure tokens that represent the various participants are all very colorful and fun.  The art, in particular, takes old standbys of fantasy and makes them pop with life.  Whether its the ectoplasmic vapor of the Ghost or the fearsome terror of the Giant Spider or the strange enchantment of The Stump, this is a game with a lot of personality.

Variety is another strong element.  With dozens of possible characters to be drawn from the deck, it’s unlikely you’ll see the same team combos over and over again.  Add to this the clever game mechanism of different type of balls AKA orbs to compete over.  There’s the standard leather orb, which does nothing special, but there’s also the chaos orb (randomly teleports its carrier), the unstable orb (has a tendency to explode), and the sticky orb (hard to drop, impossible to pass), etc.  There are countless random events to spice up the game.  Lightning storms and sudden multiple orbs as well as earthquakes and windstorms.  Scrumbrawl will never play out quite the same way twice.

This chaotic nature will be the biggest turn off to “hardcore” players who hate having an unlucky die roll undo their plans.  So if you are one of these folks, Scrumbrawl is not for you.  But if you can stomach a healthy dose of random madness to your fantasy sport board game, then you could do a lot worse than Scrumbrawl.  It’s a solid, fun game, and worth your time if want to spend an hour watching a Dragon fight a Leprechaun for the glory of the arena.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

But while at Soonercon, I learned a few things about myself and since I’m out of other blog topics for the moment, I thought I’d share those observations.

I have no tolerance for anyone who complains about Idris Elba as Heimdall.

Really.  Don’t even bring it up.  Because not only is it nice to have strong roles for minority actors, it’s also just nice to see Elba.  Period.  The guy’s a solid actor, able to convey a thought and emotion in a single look or sentence so perfectly, he’d be justified in taking a bow afterward.  He’s just plain cool and even covered in a costume that conceals nearly everything about him, he manages to make Heimdall the most awesome thing in the film.

Yes, even more awesome than The Destroyer, a magic robot with destructo-vision created by Odin himself.

More importantly, complaints about Elba are usually prefaced with the following disclaimer, “I’m not a racist, but…”  Has anyone ever said that and NOT followed it with a bit of racism?

“I’m not a racist, but would you mind telling me how to get to Fifth Street?”

No.  Inevitably, the following line will have some racist under or overtones.  And, sure, it’s possible that some fans are just so completely obsessive over every little detail that having a dark-skinned Heimdall hits their nerd rage button, but if they don’t walk out of that theater thinking Elba made Heimdall, a small part in a big movie, into one of the highlights of the film, then they’re wrestling with more than fan inflexibility.

I’m not here to call anyone racist.  Except for those crazy folks who are actually threatened by Elba filling the role.  Because, clearly, in a movie that is 98 percent Caucasians, being threatened by one black man (and one Asian) in a supporting role isn’t about anything other than race.  And if you’re one of those people, you should probably realize just how stupid you’re being.  Although, I’m certain you won’t.

All I’m suggesting is that Elba took a role and made it his, and he did so with style, grace, and terrific talent.  If you still can’t get past the color of his skin, what’s left to consider other than some simmering racial tension that we should acknowledge honestly?  Or not.

Either way, if anyone has any complaints about Elba as Heimdall, they should be that he didn’t have a big enough part in a good, but otherwise unremarkable, flick.

I have no tolerance for Tron: Legacy.

Yes, it’s come up before.  Yes, I despise Legacy.  But the depths at the disgust with the film is so deep, so imbedded in the very molecules of my DNA, that if anyone brings it up, I must will myself to say nothing or I will end up saying EVERYTHING.  As long as I keep my mouth shut, I’m cool.  But the second I offer one criticism, another spills out.  And another.  And soon, I’m launching into an uncontrollable rant about the film that even I cannot control.

It’s not right, but it’s unavoidable.

I firmly believe Legacy is one of the worst films I’ve ever seen and that if it wasn’t shielded by shiny neon, a poppin’ Daft Punk soundtrack, and misappropriated nostalgia, that most everyone else would see that too.  But who cares what I think?  I’m not here to ruin anyone’s day, and people should be able to discuss Legacy without fear of a unleashing a slavering beast.

Nonetheless, it seems unavoidable, and so, I have learned to turn and walk away.  So if you happen to see me and mention Legacy, don’t be offended if I run screaming into the darkness.  I’m doing it for your own protection.

One parting thought:  Tron Legacy was awful.  Just in case I haven’t made that clear yet.

I will play tabletop games until I pass out:

During a gap in my schedule, I went to the gaming area and found some people to play games with.  We played Race for the Galaxy, 7 Wonders, and Olympus.  We played the former two several times, in fact.  Meanwhile, Sally got something to eat, hung out with a friend of ours, and otherwise engaged herself.  Every so often, she’d come and check on me.

A little over six hours later, I was still playing.  And still would’ve played if I hadn’t decided to check on the wife.  It was only then that I realized I hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since starting.  Which isn’t that long under normal circumstances.  Except at a con, it’s easy to neglect yourself.  So I hadn’t had much to eat and drink before that.  Only after walking away from the table, did I realize just how hungry and thirsty I was.  If I hadn’t been packing up my games, I doubt I would’ve even noticed the headache and the gnawing pain in my gut.  I’m not saying I would’ve played until I died, but collapsing from malnutrition wasn’t completely out of the question.

Not to make light of genuine addiction (drug-related or otherwise), but I think I could literally sit and play games as long as the universe would let me.  As disorders go, it ain’t so bad, but it’s something I should probably keep an eye on.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

CARGO NOIR by DAYS OF WONDER

Days of Wonder is a European game company that produces some quality stuff.  Perhaps it’s because tabletop gaming is a more mainstream hobby in Europe (or so I’ve been led to believe) that makes them really put the effort into their games.  Previously, I’ve enjoyed Small World and Battlelore from DoW.  Small World remains popular with me because it is very easy to teach, plays quickly, and is very fun.  It also looks very pretty.

Cargo Noir is another very pretty game.  The components are minimal: a modular board, some cards, some ships, and some coins.  But the ships and coins are plastic, and my wife tells me the detailed molds for the ships required a lot of work.  While the game could work just as well with cardboard chits representing ships, there is something about holding a little plastic ship in your hands that is appealing.  Presentation counts.

Even without the crackerjack presentation, Cargo Noir is an excellent game.  The theme is that all players are smuggling cartels trying to earn the most for their illicit cargo.  Cargo ranges from cigars and art to weapons and uranium.  Each turn, players have a number of actions based on how large their fleet is.  They can bid on ports for goods, go to the black market, or go to the casinos.  The basic rules of the game are so simple that it takes only a few minutes to explain, but this simplicity is what makes the game work.

Players must balance their goals with their money, must know when to stick to their guns, and when to back off.  And yet, the game is swift.  The modular board changes based on the number of players.  The more players, the more ports of call that are open.  The ensures that there are always enough choices to keep things interesting while still putting players at odds.  It’s just very well balanced.

I can’t recommend the game without mentioning a few things though.  First of all, this is a game about criminal activity.  Though it’s not violent or graphic, and it could just as easily be rethemed to a more traditional shipping style game, it’s still a game about smuggling.  If the idea of buying a yacht from your profit selling uranium would bother you, skip the game.

It also has some very nice artwork.  Bright, colorful, and very cartoony.  However, because of the theme, the different cartels are all broad stereotypes.  The Casa Nostra is every Italian gangster cliche in one picture.  And Tres Sombreros are exactly what you would expect.  On the one hand, I don’t find this bothersome because how else would you depict criminals?  And the art is so lively, it’s intended in jest.  But if you’re sensitive about this idea, don’t buy this game.

Finally, the presentation of the game is wonderful, but it does raise the price.  As a guy who really likes games, it seems reasonably priced.  But for a casual gamer, the price tag might be a bit much.  But then again, it’s easy to find deals on the internet.

Those warnings out of the way, Cargo Noir is  lively bidding game with a lot to like in it.  It’s especially nice that it plays well with two players.  So, aside from some presentation and theme issues (which really are very minor), I can safely recommend Cargo Noir as a game worth buying.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee