Design and Effect Archive

The Token Cycle—Dust to Dust, Stock to Stock

Posted April 28, 2010 By Rindis

Crossposted from the Design and Effect blog on GameSquad.

One of the problems with a physical game is that the components are inherently limited. There’s only so many counters you can fit into a sheet of cardboard. There’s only so many sheets or little plastic minis that you can fit into the box. No matter how big, or expensive, a physical game is, there is a limit to the number of moving parts it has. Early computer games had a similar degree of constraint (it is no accident that Starweb features 255 worlds), but modern ones have no real worries in this regard. They have other constraints to be sure, but number of active objects the system can keep in memory is generally not one of them (displaying them may be…).

Many wargames don’t have too many worries about this. The number of units that show up in the game is fixed, so all that needs to be done is to figure out a way to include enough informational counters, and all will be well. Some games have a bigger challenge. Any game that relies on strength points (like the GCACW series) will need to have counters for each different strength point, times enough for all the units in the game. Some games have free-form production, and providing counters for everything becomes a real challenge (Federation & Empire is the classic disaster of this syndrome, where the original edition could not fit in enough counters for a complete initial setup, partially thanks to the need for different counters for most later production ships).

However, it is possible to use the limitation on the number of counters as part of how the game works. The most successful of these is Francis Tresham’s classic Civilization. The original civilization-building game, it has a map of the bulk of Europe plus North Africa and the Near East. Players have tokens that get used for population as they grow, and move, and fight across the map. Since these are physical pieces there is a hard limit of 55 tokens provided for each player, sharply limiting how far he could grow.

And that’s the least of your troubles with them.

There’s actually three states that these tokens can be in, and shuffling the 55 pieces between them every turn is one of the most important activities in the game. The two ‘in use’ states are on the board as population or flipped over and in the Treasury as taxes. Otherwise, they’re in the Stock, ready for use as either of the other two.

Yes, collecting taxes reduces the amount of population you can have. This is an extremely odd quirk of the game, but the only thing I can really say is that it is part of a mechanic that works really well, and powers some very interesting dynamics that the player must struggle with for most of the game.

The Limits of Growth

The game begins with everyone having one population marker on the board, and 54 tokens in stock (possibly less, the available number of tokens is reduced for some numbers of players to restrict civilizations to a proper ‘size’ for the amount of board available to everyone). The first thing that happens is the population increases. With proper management, it is possible for the population to double every turn, so at the beginning of turn 6, it would be possible for the population to go from 32 to 64—past the limit of what the Stock provides. At that point the player chooses which areas get population growth until out of tokens. (Population growth is not voluntary other than this choice.)

Getting tokens back into Stock occurs through a number of mechanisms. The first one is starvation. Each area has a maximum limit on the population it can support (from 1-5, usually around 2), and once everything else on the board is done, excess population is removed back to the Stock. Related to this is conflict. When two different powers have population in the same area, they are reduced down to the population limit, or until only one player has population left in the area (that clause is important). As Civilization is not a game of direct conflict, this is not a way to wage war, instead populations slowly ebb and flow, largely determined by how the Stock is acting. At any rate, conflict is strictly attritional with the smaller population in the area removing first, followed by the larger. If both populations are tied, both remove at once. It is very common in play to see a player moving excess population into his neighbors; it cycles his tokens back into Stock, and reduces his neighbor’s influence in the region.

The Art of Living in Cities

Next, is constructing cities. Cities are the prime mover of progress in the game, and in fact, early on progress towards the end goal is checked by the need to have two cities on the board. Cities are constructed by gathering six population into one area and replacing them with a city if there is a ‘city site’ in the area, or twelve population if there is no city site. During turns four through ten, this is a common and easy way to get population back into Stock for re-use.

It also generates the prime cause of strain on the system, and what becomes a prime focus for many players as their civilization matures, attempting to find a more regular cycle: taxes. At the beginning of each turn, taxes are raised. This consists of taking two tokens out of Stock and into the Treasury for each city the player owns. If there are not enough tokens available for this, the cities go into revolt, and will change sides to someone who does have enough tokens.

Because this happens first thing in the turn, cities further limit the amount of population growth a player can have because some tokens will always be in the Treasury at that point. It also means that players must find ways to put tokens back into the Stock during the turn.

Cities themselves are limited in the counter mix to nine per player. Again, this plays against other elements of the game design, as the primary purpose of cities is to generate trade cards, and there are nine decks of trade cards (each with a face value from 1 to 9, and you get one of each type up to the number cities you have). It isn’t a bad practical limit either, as the number of calamities that start appearing at that point make it hard to maintain nine cites.

In the Navy…

A minor way of returning tokens to Stock is building and maintaining ships for the transport of population. They cost two to build, or one to maintain. One or two population [I]or[/I] taxes, that is. Usually, this is merely a way to spread influence to under-populated areas, as well as a way to bleed off a little excess Treasury. It is more important for Crete, however, as they have to expand off the island of Crete before civilization building really starts. At any rate, all players usually build/maintain some ships just to have a way to spend Treasury.

There’s Gold In Them Thar Tokens!

The last two ways of cycling tokens are purely ways to get them back out of the Treasury. The first is to ‘buy’ a ’9′ trade card (Gold—or a calamity) for 18 tokens (the same as the taxes on 9 cities…). The other is to spend them on civilization cards.

Civilization cards are in many ways the ultimate end goal of everything you do in Civilization.  They are advances that give abilities and advantages, and the collection of them is required to hit the ending parts of the game. They are purchased with any combination of trade cards and taxes. Only trade cards can get up to the values needed to buy these, but they are also inflexible—it is difficult to hit exactly the number needed for a purchase. So taxes are handy to round off the spare numbers.

Buying a gold trade card seems like a poor deal; 18 tokens for a card with a face value of 9. However, it does allow you to empty the Treasury on a turn where you may not be able to purchase anything. And, trade cards increase in value geometrically, with a set being worth the square of the cards in the set times the face value. So, two gold cards are worth (2*2*9 = ) 36, the same as their purchase price. Also, if you have nine cities, you are (or should be) getting another gold card that turn anyway, and can immediately get a profit on the deal.

Conclusion

This may sound like it is a fairly complete description of the game. It is. The 55 tokens, and the actions that manipulate them, are truly at the center of the game, and there is very little that is not directly impacted by the decision to make the limited number of tokens that can be provided one of the central motivators of the game.

Things that I haven’t looked at include the trade cards (acquisition, trading, and spending), calamities (related to the trade cards), and the civilization cards (which do include things that can affect the tokens, such as Coinage, which allows you to change the tax rate of your cities), and what is needed to actually achieve victory. These are fairly major parts of the game that are not directly impacted by the tokens most of the time. They are well worth study, but do not reach into as many different aspects of the game as the tokens do.

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Windows 7 compatability

Posted March 7, 2010 By Rindis

I’ve heard all sorts of horror stories about Vista and Win7 not supporting a bunch of older stuff, notably early versions the productivity software we use. Thankfully, it hasn’t been that bad, though I’ve got a bunch of Win95 and 98-era games that I don’t hold out much hope for.

Here’s everything I’ve found so far (for Win7 64-bit):

Current, free/open source software (should all be strictly up to date, and none of them have given any trouble):
Adobe Reader 9.3.0
Firefox 3.6
FreeCiv 2.1.11
FreeCol 0.9.1
OpenOffice 3.2.0
OpenTTD 1.0.0-RC1 (has a 64-bit executable)
QuickTime 7.6.5
SeaMonkey (nee Mozilla) 2.0.3
TeamSpeak 3.0.0-beta16
Thunderbird 3.0.3 (I just upgraded from the 2.x series, a lot of changes)
VASL 4.8.1
Vassal 3.1.13

Productivity Software: (the truly important stuff)
CorelDraw 8 – Installed fine. Need to test, and try updating. – Update: Went crash-happy fairly quickly and started crashing on launch. Now updated to X4.
Dreamweaver 8 – Installed and runs fine.
PhotoShop 5.5 – Installed fine. Have had one hiccup, looks like the system was just being slow.

Games: Organized by year of release….
1996
Age of Sail – Will not install *1
Command & Conquer Gold – Will not install *1,3
Command & Conquer: Red Alert – Will not install *1,3
Star General – Will not install *1,5
1997
East Front – Installed and runs fine (!!)
Heroes of Might and Magic Compendium (I & II+expansion) – Will not install *1
Imperialism – Will not install *1,2
Panzer General II – Will not install *1,2
Total Annihilation – Installed and runs fine – However, the two expansions refuse to install *1
1998
Jeff Wayne’s War of the Worlds – Installed. Game only works a lowest resolution (640×480) – otherwise it crashes when it changes modes. And it did crash once during play.
People’s General – Installed, has graphics problem where map does not display, only controls *4
Warlords III: Darklord Rising – Will not install *1,5
1999
Heroes of Might and Magic III – Installed and runs fine. Though it did advise I needed NT 4 SP 2.
Imperialism II – Installed and runs fine.
SimCity 3000 – Installed and runs fine.
2000
Starfleet Command II – Installed. Will not accept keyboard input for entering CD-key. (USB issue?)
2001
Europa Universalis II – Windows 7 warned of compatibility problems. Need to check on latest patch.
2002
Master of Orion 3 – Installed. Seems to run fine, Win7 was worried that it didn’t install correctly.
2005
Civilization IV – Win7 warned of compatibility problems. Installed, ran fine, and then I used the in-game patching service, whereupon it died. I need to reinstall without patching and try it out.
2008
World of Warcraft: The Burning Crusade – Had trouble with initial patching the first time, but a uninstall/reinstall sorted it out. Runs fine.

(This list will be updated with more titles for a while yet.)
1 cannot start or run due to incompatibility with 64-bit versions of Windows.
2 Error: Didn’t work: Result:216
3 The program, INSTALL.EXE could not be found
4 Win2K had this issue
5 Hitting ‘Install’ on the autorun menu causes it to go away, and never do anything again. No error is presented.

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Gaming Fusion—Tactical and Strategic in One Package

Posted September 24, 2009 By Rindis

Crossposted from the Design and Effect blog at GameSquad.

There are games that are tactical in scope, presenting small units (or even individuals) fighting out a battle. There are games with a wider, strategic, scope, where entire wars are fought out.

And then, there are a few game that try to deliver both. I’m not just talking about some of the complicated combat procedures, nor multiple rounds of rolling dice back and forth. I mean games where there is an actual mini-game that allows maneuver and tactics to matter.

This is mostly the realm of computer games, which can handle the switch of scale without overcrowding an already cluttered table, but there are some celebrated board games that use this idea too.

Napoleon (Gamma Two Games, 1974)
The third, and final, of Gamma Two’s block wargames, Napoleon featured all the same base mechanics of the first two, a much more dynamic situation—and the added complication of having to organize and maneuver your troops once battle is joined. Considering that this one was representing a much smaller scale than the previous two games (turns are hours instead of weeks or months), the more detailed combat resolution may make some sense.

The combat is pretty simple, in keeping with a game that is overall one of the hallmarks of design elegance. Units are secretly assigned to either the center or one of the flanks, or the reserve. Deployments are revealed at the start of battle, and the players have options to shift troops around, commit reserves, and advance to the attack. Columbia Games recently did a new edition, and I believe it simplifies the maneuvering process some. The rest of it is pretty standard block-game fare: each unit rolls a number of dice dependent on it’s strength (from 1-4), and 6s are hits that reduce the enemy strength. There are also effects from using infantry and cavalry and artillery together.

Titan (Gorgonstar, 1980)
In some ways, Titan is the reverse of other games, almost being an involved combat resolution with a strategic game sitting on top. The strategic part of the game consists of working around the world board, recruiting creatures into your armies as you go. This is the real heart of the game, as what you recruit when has a complicated system of prerequisites to work through (and the movement itself isn’t the most straightforward thing either).

When battle is joined each player sets their army up on a battle board for that space’s terrain, about 6 hexes across (this is an enhancement of the AH edition, the original battle boards consisted of a mere 5 hexes; one row of 3, one row of 2). I don’t really remember much about the combat, but the boards are just big enough for some maneuvering, and units that come from the type of terrain being fought on get some bonuses.

Master of Orion (MicroProse, 1993)
I’m generally considering all the games of a series together here, however, the tactical combat in each MoO game has been substantially different, so each is examined on its own. A space ’4X’ game, MoO featured ship design and a tactical space-combat system. While both were well done and fun, the combat system did use a shortcut that has been seen again: combat was between ‘stacks’ of identical units.

For some reason, this last bugged me more here than it did in the later HoMM series (see below). There are two things that made it necessary here, though. First, the player is limited to only having six ship designs at a time. To design a seventh class, you first have to delete one of the existing ones (scrapping all the remaining ships of the type in the process…).

Master of Magic (SimTex, 1994)
MoM is basically a fantasy version of Sid Meyer’s Civilization, with city building, exploring and magic research instead of technologies. Its combat system is one of the high points in what is overall a good game. Combat happens on a square-grid map derived from the terrain the battle is happening on, and each unit is treated separately. The ‘normal’ (non-monster) units generally consist of several people, and as they take damage the number of people (and hitting power) goes down, much like units taking hits in many miniatures systems. In fact, with the isometric view, it was as close to a simple miniatures game as VGA graphics were going to allow.

Heroes of Might and Magic series (New World Computing, 1995, 1996, 1999, 2002; Nival Interactive, 2005)
While the HoMM series has grown a lot, combat has stayed essentially the same. Units can either garrison a castle, or move with a hero, but can’t move on their own. When a hero attacks another hero or a castle, the game switches to a fun combat game.

It’s not much of one on the surface, as while it does use a hex-grid, units merely exist in ‘stacks’ of identical units, with no upper limit on how many units could be in a stack. Despite this, the combat was pretty deep, since there are a lot of different unit types, and there’s a hard limit on how many different types can be in an army. The range of different abilities is quite varied, and with the ability of lower-level units to be recruited faster, there is generally nothing that is truly worthless (with the exception of Peasants in the first two games…).

Conquest of the New World (Quicksilver, 1996)
At first glance this was just another ‘colonize the New World game’, though a well done one. Our interest here is the combat system however.

It actually resembles the system used in Napoleon, with a backfield reserve and a grid of left, right and center areas. Since it’s much the same period, this is nice to see. There’s the split between infantry, cavalry and artillery again. Each army has to be commanded by a leader who determines how many units can attack in a round, which can be grouped or done separately. There are bonuses for grouping combined-arms attacks as well as charging cavalry (moving and attacking). Units have a rating that determines effectiveness and how many hits they can take; also, as they take hits they check morale and may automatically retreat one square (which forces you to waste an action moving them back if they’re still in good shape…).

All things considered, it’s possibly the simplest separate battle system in a computer game. The fact that you could hop straight into a fight against the computer from the opening menu in something of a ‘practice mode’ was also nice touch.

Master of Orion II (Microprose, 1996)
Despite the name, there were not a lot of points of similarity between this game and the first one. (They are there to be sure, but less so than in most sequels.) Ship design and construction were familiar, but had far-reaching differences.

Not only was the limit on ‘classes’ removed, but each individual ship could be unique. Even if two ships started the same, they could be refitted independently, producing two separate designs. Combat of course, dropped the ‘stack’ concept, which each ship operating separately. The hundreds of ships gave way to fleets that usually had a couple dozen ships at most, emphasizing the individualistic nature of shipbuilding.

The battle system wasn’t anything special, but it was solid, and fully featured, with facing, differing movement rates, special abilities, etc. ‘Real’ physics and momentum weren’t present, but that’s rare in dedicated tactical SF games, so not surprising.

Great War at Sea/Second World War at Sea series (Avalanche Press, 1996-present)
Okay, there’s been a lot of releases in these two related series, so I’m not even going to try to mention them all. Of especial note, this is the first boardgame mention since Titan. The general idea is an operational-level game of naval maneuvering across the seas which has a tactical component when two forces actually spot one another. Since most forces have to pre-plot their route in advance (and the exceptions still pre-plot for two turns), this is by no means certain.

The tactical side is something of a mixed bag. For the amount of (potential) detail, it’s a very simplified system. As a quick subsystem of the larger game, this makes sense, but can be very off-putting to naval enthusiasts who are used to detailed treatments of individual battles. The most noticeable lack is any sort of facing rules, allowing ships to go in any direction, or fire in any direction. As each phase for movement and firing is rough a half-hour long, this isn’t as bad as it seems, but it is jarring, as that’s typically one of the major concerns in simulating a naval engagement. On the other hand, the series uses a very lengthy phase sequence to allow for a good range of speed differences, and this grates against the simpler aspects of the system.

All in all, a fairly unique effort, and has gotten a number of Origins awards.

Imperialism series (SSI, 1997, 1999)
The two games in this series tackled different eras, but featured similar mechanics and goals. Balance work in your infrastructure with diplomacy and trade to increase your economy and dominate your rivals through a network of allies and guns and butter spending.

I’ll admit, I like the economics and empire building aspects, but never got into the wars much. It does feature a separate battle system, that was fairly simple, and a bit lackluster in presentation, especially by the late ’90s.

Jeff Wayne’s The War of the Worlds (Rage Software, 1998)
A game just short of being great. H. G. Wells’ classic novel sees one of its few adaptions that are true to the original setting (instead of an ‘update’ to be contemporary). The humans are put on a equal footing with the Martians, and destroy the first cylinder, after which the others are diverted to Scotland where the Martians have more room to build up their strength.

The strategic portion of the game involves a map of Britain broken up into provinces. These have to be individually managed with the construction of defenses and the facilities to create new units and supplies. Units are built as groups of 1-5 vehicles (depending on type; there is, oddly, no infantry, obviously to simplify the job for the primitive 3D graphics engine). When units are moved into an enemy province (or vice versa), the game switches to an RTS game, where the units fight the available defenders and fortifications to try to drive the enemy out of the area by taking out their headquarters.

When looking at the map of Europe for scenario selection in Command & Conquer, this is what I thought the logical next step in RTS evolution would be.

Boy, was I wrong. And disappointed with where RTS did go. Or should I say, ‘didn’t go’?

Age of Wonders series (Triumph Studios, 1999, 2002, 2003)
This series, especially the last two releases, are very much in the same vein as Master of Magic, where you heroes who can cast spells in battle, as a wizard (directly representing you) who can cast spells at a distance.

The combat system is the standard ‘bunch of different unit types, often with special powers. Like most entries (and unlike MoM) each unit is one person, with no partial losses. However, it’s a very nice system, with terrain that blocks archery, number of attacks impacted by movement, and other nice touches. The real interesting part is that the tactical field consists of the hex being attacked and all the adjacent hexes. (This, naturally, includes the hex being attacked from.) This allows for some really large battles, especially for city assaults where the city is well defended, but the attacker now occupies all the surrounding terrain (yes! a real siege—well close enough).

Total War series (Creative Assembly, 2000, 2002, 2005, 2006, 2009)
I have to admit a good amount of ignorance here. Despite being real attracted to the style and subject of the games, I have yet to get any of them. I really need to just go down to Fry’s and spend the $20 for Rome + expansion.

But the general idea is like WotW above. You manage provinces strategically, and when one player invades another, the battle is played out as an RTS. In this case the series is all historical-based, which also attracts my attention.

Master of Orion III (Quicksilver Software, 2003)
The most controversial of the series, and one that I liked more than many people (instead of the other way around on the first two). For our current purposes, the game changed significantly yet again. Ship building is largely akin to MoO II (though the interface is much worse), but ships are easier to build again, meaning that there will be more of them, and having a fleet of ‘unique’ capital ships is no longer practical or desirable.

The biggest change is that ships have to be grouped into ‘task forces’ to be used, and battles are fights between task forces. I really like this part because it allows for a much more ‘epic’ scale of fight than II while avoiding the over-simplicity of the original. The combat in II felt very static and constrained, while the engine here feels more like true space (opera) combat. Sadly, it too had it’s bugs and problems, but I really admired the general feel.

Overall, the ‘perfect’ blend of strategic action and tactical combat can be considered one of the ‘grail quests’ of gaming. The dream of a rich combat experience married to strategic choices that make suicidal charges as unpalatable as in a real war shines golden in many eyes, and has lead to many games not mentioned here. But it is a very tough balance to achieve, and is only rarely truly successful. For my preferences, Age of Wonders II would be the best I’ve seen so far.

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‘Soft’ ZOC and Movement in A Victory Lost

Posted December 19, 2008 By Rindis

Crossposted from the Design and Effect blog at GameSquad.

Zones of Control have been a concept in wargaming since the very early days. The traditional version is a ‘hard’ ZOC where any unit that moves adjacent to an enemy unit must immediately stop moving. This is generally described as the idea that a unit does not exist solely in the hex it counter is in, but rather would have detachments out covering the flanks, etc. Thus an enemy unit needs to ‘stop’ and deal with the enemy in the adjacent hex before continuing through the area (i.e., combat).

I would like to point out that there are plenty of other interactions that could also have this effect. Most notably, that the defending unit is going to react to the movements of the approaching enemy, including shifting its units around to get in the way of the approaching enemy, counterattacking anyone moving by without proper flank protection (which would slow it down…). At this point, it gets easier to see ZOC for what it is: a mechanism for keeping the on/off system of alternating turns from wrecking the simulation of warfare.

There are problems with this coping mechanism, as the full stop demanded can be too limiting. Considering that the mechanism dates back to the original Tactics, a bit of primitive simplicity can be forgiven.

There have been all sorts of adjustments to the basic idea to make it work better, such as dual-impulse turns, automatic victory… and ‘soft ZOCs’ which impede movement rather than stop it. A Victory Lost, a game chock-full rules designed for maximum elegance uses an extremely effective ‘soft-ZOC’ system.

The rule effectively boils down to the fact that entering or leaving a hex in an enemy ZOC costs two extra movement points. So moving adjacent to an enemy costs three (one for the hex and two for the ZOC), and the same is true for pulling out of combat. Moving directly from one hex in enemy ZOC to another is permitted with an expenditure of five movement points (two to leave the current hex, one for the movement itself, two to enter the new ZOC).

What makes this work so well is the movement factors given to the various units. Soviet and allied Axis infantry units get a ’4′. Beyond the usual meaning of how much mobility on the map this grants, it means that such a unit can go one hex, and then move into an enemy ZOC. If the enemy line is further than two hexes away, they will not be able to engage in a single movement. This also limits the units to a two-hex move when pulling out of the line.

German infantry (and Soviet cavalry) gets ’5′ movement, which opens up a number of additional options. As the Germans are generally on the defensive, and will be pulling back to new lines at several points, the ability to put themselves 3 hexes away from the Soviet line from being in contact is not to be overlooked. However, 5 MP is [I]also[/I] exactly what it takes to be able to shift a hex within an enemy ZOC. While Soviet units are generally ‘stuck’ once on the line, German units retain some mobility. I find this an exceedingly elegant way to reflect the relative tactical flexibility and capabilities of the two armies.

This comparison continues to the mechanized units as well. Soviet tank corps and mechanized units have a movement of ’6′ and German panzer and mechanized divisions have a movement of ’10′. This last makes the German panzer units (which also have very high offensive values) very dangerous. Away from the front line, they can cover large distances very quickly and can easily show up to plug a distant hole in the line. They are also capable of moving two hexes at a time in direct contact with the enemy—generally much to the frustration of a Soviet player that is trying to isolate an overextended counterattack.

Soviet doctrine was solidly a complete ‘top-down’ approach. Orders were generated at the top, flowed down to individual units, and tactical flexibility was not expected, and was discouraged. German doctrine was heavily dependent on the individual initiative of individual officers and NCOs, and was geared around principles of mobile warfare. This campaign, especially, saw the use of armored ‘fire brigades’ used to blunt and halt the Soviet breakthroughs. A Victory Lost, through a single simple rule, and some intelligent choices on factors achieves a great sense of the historical strengths of each side.

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Planets Are Big Too—Ground Combat in Space Games

Posted December 16, 2008 By Rindis

Crossposted from the Design and Effect blog over on GameSquad.

Civilization-conquering space games have been popular for over thirty years (reaching back to Stellar Conquest and Star Web in the 70s). With space being really (really, really) big, and a desire to provide as much of a ‘grand sweep’ as possible, planets, pretty big places in their own right, are generally reduced to a single point, which troops fight over (if there is ground combat at all) as a unit.

There have, over the years, been a few games that have bucked this trend.

Godsfire (Metagaming, 1976)
This was a fairly simple one still. Each planet consisted of four equal areas that could have separate control, production and tech level, but were otherwise generic (no terrain, etc.). It did have other features, such as hexes with a ‘stack’ of hexes in them, to represent the third dimension in a board game (a system reused in Metagaming’s Holy War).

As there could be occasional nova events in the game (which happens in a small star cluster) the zones also became important as you would have to determine which two got burned and which two were in the ‘shadow’ of the event and were relatively untouched.

Star Viking (DwarfStar, 1981)
In some ways, this game may have been the most ambitious treatment of the subject I’ve seen. However, it isn’t directly related to the typical 4X-space genre, dealing with a scenario straight out of H. Beam Piper’s Space Viking, with a defending Federate player trying to fend off the depredations of the Viking player.

Each system has it’s own card that depicts the worthwhile areas of the system: worlds, moons, asteroids and space stations. These are grouped in different orbits, and each orbit has a “deep space” zone, the area around the same distance from the star, but far away from everything else. Each world has a habitability index which determines what kind of troops can operate there. (Primitive units aren’t going to be shipped to Mars and do anything but stay on the ships that brought them.)

In the end, there’s not quite enough to be fully satisfying. The biggest of worlds still have 10 undifferentiated zones (two bands of 4, plus the poles), which do wrap around the sides. But there is still no terrain.

Buck Rogers (TSR, 1988)
This game keeps the scope down to the inner solar system, but that allows it do a very nice presentation of what is covered. The planets are actually less detailed than in Star Viking, with Earth being split into seven somewhat geometric zones with no rhyme or reason.

The (much appreciated) strong point of this one is the orrery of the inner solar system. The center of the board is dominated by a display that gives tracks for all the planets (and asteroids) to move around each turn. Turns are apparently 44 days, as Mercury has two spaces in it’s orbit, and it therefore takes two turns to make a complete circuit around the Sun. The structure demands that each ring has twice as many spaces as the next one previous. This actually works very well through Mars, and continues to work for the Asteroid Belt by inserting an extra ring between it and Mars.

Star General (SSI, 1996)
SSI’s expansion of their successful Panzer General system to the reaches of outer space was a mixed success. It built well on a good engine, and brought a couple unique things to the table. However, the lack of most of the concerns endemic to science fiction warfare made it very weak title overall.

The main map is a hex grid that is mostly empty, but has planets scattered about and occasional nebulae that slow movement. Presumably, the planets are merely stand-ins for the main settled body in an entire system. And the tried-and-true ‘rock, paper, scissors’ combat of the original works well with the small multitude of ship types available for each side. However, ships cannot stack with one another, and you end up with neat formations of ships covering each other, as seems logical… over distances that must be measured in parsecs.

However, the game includes troop transports, which must be loaded with units, and moved over to an enemy planet to invade it. These units are straight out of the Panzer General mold, redressed in SF clothing. Since the combat in PG always worked very well, that is not a problem.

The ground game consists of a traditional hexagonal board with terrain varying depending on the general planet type. The size of the board could vary a bit, along with the number of cities available. When you first possess a planet, you can spend on various resource-producing facilities—up to two per city (these can be destroyed in combat). Once a planet one each of the normal money-producers, two special facilities can be constructed: military complexes, which allows the construction of normal ground units (as opposed to the weaker militia, which can’t leave their home planet), and a starbase, which allows construction of spacecraft.

While the combat is good, there’s still quirks. The planet map is square, with no wrap around. I guess these are all geographically limited colonies. Also, there are certain designated ‘landing spots’ along one edge, which is the only place where the landing ships can come down. Enemy units that are adjacent to these when a ship lands are automatically destroyed.

There’s obviously a lot that was done in the interest of the game, rather than logic. Still, the game generates plenty of interesting opposed landing scenarios. And the combat systems themselves (space and ground) are fun.

Emperor of the Fading Suns (Holistic Design, 1996)
This is probably the most thorough-going look ever at ground combat in a game that also features space combat. This is balanced by having space combat be simplified.

Combat is a fairly simple affair of a ‘stack’ attacking another ‘stack’, and things are automatically determined over a series of rounds until all of one side’s units are forced to retreat or are destroyed. This holds true for space combat, and while everyone may have fleets in orbit around the same planet, there’s no maneuvering involved beyond the strategic concerns of which system your fleet should be garrisoning.

In broad outline, the ground portions are much like Star General‘s, however, it is a much richer and more diverse experience in this game. Buildings can be constructed, but these are in the service of a very complex resource system, with a dozen or so things to mine, harvest, or create. The maps are much bigger and diverse, and wrap around from east to west, feeling more like Civ on a hex-grid. Not only that, but the maps feel right, like a world with that geography could really exist. Sadly, that last is also a limitation, as they work so well because they’re fixed, hard coded for each world.

In the long run, game starts to pale, generally because of the amount of micomanagement needed to continue growing the economy towards the more outre materials. The combat system is also slightly lackluster, although I could not really say why. (It is certainly light-years ahead of anything seen in a Civ game.)

Conclusion:
While there are doubtless more space games with planetary maps out there, these are the ones I’m aware of. None of them is a perfect mix of both elements, and the micromanagement that bogs EotFS down shows that it may be impossible to do at the level I’d like to see. Nevertheless, I think something like a slightly more complicated Star Viking would be well worth trying.

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Combat in Onward, Christian Soldiers

Posted October 31, 2008 By Rindis

Crossposted from the Design and Effect blog on GameSquad.

I haven’t read nearly as much on medieval warfare as I might like, but what I do know is that for all the protestations of martial valor, and the romanticism of defeating your foe in combat, major battles were viewed as entirely too chancy things to trust the fate of your army and kingdom to.

With the considerable problems with communication, supply and training, this is an entirely understandable position. Instead, medieval warfare was largely a positional one, with control of key points being the objective.

With all this in mind, it makes sense that the combat system in Onward, Christian Soldiers is designed to be chaotic and unpredictable, with the idea of encouraging play that rewards sieges and other positional play. Even though it is acknowledged that players will remain more aggressive than their historical counterparts.

What gains my respect, is that even though they are chaotic, they are not random. Several factors go into the resolution. This means the system is a little cumbersome, but with practice it flows well, and it ensures the tension runs high whenever a battle is joined. Heck, the tension runs high whenever you think about a battle.

There’s good mechanics dealing with getting to a battle too, but we’re concentrating on the breakdown of what happens once battle is joined:

Step 1: What are the Odds?
Naturally, a larger army holds a distinct advantage over a smaller force, but instead of a conventional CRT system (a subject I should go into in another post), where the relative strength alone is the prime determiner of the possible results, this just generates a modifier for the final result.

An important note for those used to CRT wargames is that the odds calculation is rounded off instead of down. So, while normally 14 to 5 would be 2:1, in this game it is 3:1. While this is more appropriate as you’re just trying to gauge that the army is ‘about’ three times as large, and it keeps an odd hole from showing up in the modifiers, it does slow the process down because any edge case isn’t easy to resolve mentally. Aid cards are provided with a table for all the likely force strengths.

The odds themselves translate directly into the modifier—so 3:1 is a +3 modifier, 2:1 against is a –2, and so on—except that 1:1 is +0 (naturally), and 1.5:1 is +1.

Step 2: Formations
This is the real meat of what makes the system different, and why going into a good-odds battle can still put your heart in your throat—and why it can be good to seek a battle as the weaker army.

Reflecting the clash of different styles of combat that marked the Crusades, and the fact that even the best leaders did things in battle, that to our eyes, make little sense, Onward uses the idea of each side adopting a ‘formation’ for the battle (which has been seen before), but takes control out of the player’s hands by turning it into a die roll. The results of this roll depend on the leader rating, and side (Crusader or Muslim).

Also, the passage of time, and the fact that the Muslims adjusted to Crusader tactics is accounted for, as the Muslims get a different table in each Crusade, with better results each time.

The possible Crusader formations are Impetuous Charge, the vainglorious attack, possibly in the face of all military common sense, that was seen all too often from commanders just arrived in the Middle East; Defend in place (obvious), Flank attack (also obvious); and Frontal Charge, which is the well-timed charge most classically seen from Richard at Arsuf. A 1-rating leader has a 5/6 chance of IC (a ’6′ being D), with the odds of an IC going down with each rating, and the normal competent 4-rating with one chance in 6 of IC, 2/6 of D, 1/6 of F and 2/6 FC. Richard the Lionheart (the only 5-rating leader in the game) replaces the chance of an IC with FC.

The Muslim formations are Defensive, Cautious (line up for battle and and look for an opportunity), Flank attack, and feign retreat and Encicle. In the First Crusade, a 1-rating leader has a 5/6 chance to go D and 1/6 C; by the Third Crusade it is even odds of either. A 4-rating leader has equal chances of C, F, and E in the First Crusade, and this only shifts slightly to a 1/6 of C, 2/6 of F, and 3/6 of E.

So… what does all this mean? What do the formations do against each other? As you might guess, FC and E are the formations that the Crusaders and Muslims respectively want to see come up. The Crusaders have a definite military edge in the fact that the Frontal Charge trumps everything else, and will always generate a positive modifier for the Crusaders, a mere +2 against E, and a +8 against a Muslim who is being Defensive. The Impetuous Charge is iffy, it can generate a positive modifier against D, but is a -5 against F and -8 against E (which sounds exactly like several of the worse defeats we read about in the Crusades).

Note that the worst Crusader formation (IC) does well against the worst Muslim formation (D), meaning that in the First Crusade a 1-rating Crusader leader can ride roughshod over 1-rating Muslim leader, as there are only three chances in 36 of not seeing IC vs D.

Step 3: Other Modifiers
There are a few minor modifiers that can show up, like defending in a town, some random cards that can be played, etc.

And then there’s armored knights. Due to the nature of the difficulties in employing knights in battle in the Crusades, and the devastating effect they could have when they did get to hit the enemy, knights are a separate factor of the army while everything else is just generic strength points. There’s a lot of restrictions on them: only certain formation results get to use them, they can’t be used in/against a town… etc. However, when the Crusader does get to use them, they generate a +1 shift per point. (This would generate a +8 in the First Crusade if the leaders of all four Crusader factions happened to be fighting together at this point—more likely it’ll generate a +2 or so.)

Step 4: Results
So, there’s all these numbers that add and subtract from the final result, inducing a fair amount of chaos into the system as it is hard to determine the end result without actually starting the combat. Now what?

The last bit is to roll 2d6, add the final modifier and consult a CRT table. As ever, dice don’t reduce the tension level. Combat results range from -10 to +24, with the results being #/# where the two numbers represent what the attacker and defender respectively take in casualties as a percentage of their army strength. The two extreme “blow out” results are 70/0 and 0/70, the two middle results (+7 and +8) are 15/15 and 20/20, and most of the time you can assume casualties will be between 5 and 25 percent of the army.

A nice brake on the system to keep a large army from taking excessive casualties against a small force is that if the odds are 3:1 or greater (or 1:2 or less), then the larger army figures its casualties as a percentage of the size of the smaller army.

And then there’s one last source of chaos. There are four results that say “X (#)”. These are Unpredictable Results, and you roll again (1d6 this time) add the modifier in the parentheses (from -2 to +2), and look for the entry marked with that number in its own column. As the six # entries are equivalent to -3, 0, +6, +9, +14 and +20, it can really shift where the results land. While the modifiers tend to constrain the results to what would be expected, so far in practice it has turned certain victories into costly ones and close battles into costly defeats.

Aftermath:
After all that, if one side took twice as many casualties as the other, it must retreat. Otherwise, either (or both) sides may choose to retreat, or both may stay of the field, and probably will go at it again soon (possibly after reinforcements arrive).

Summary:
I’ve found Onward, Christian Soldiers to have one of the best battle resolution systems I’ve seen. It is a little clunkier and unwieldy than I would strictly like to see, but I think it is well worth the time put into it. The results seem to mesh well with what I know of combat in the Crusades, and the formations give you a feel for the flow of the battle, creating more of a narrative, or feeling of ‘being there’. And finally, it achieves the design goal of being a horribly unpredictable thing, despite being influenced by several factors that the players do have complete control over. Battles will always be more common with wargamers than with leaders who had their own lives and fortunes at stake, but you understand why they were to be avoided.

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