Charging Off on Another Diversion

I have the small luxury of setting aside projects in development to pursue game ideas that suddenly grab my inspiration and charge off with it across the battlefield, so to speak. One such idea bit me last week and demanded my attention when I wasn’t working on blog entries, website updates, and other more practical matters.

I have a few boxes of wonderful 54mm plastic soldier figures from Armies in Plastic. My collection includes soldiers from historical periods within my numerous spheres of interest -- Zulus, British colonial infantry, dervishes (including Beja warriors), Egyptian infantry -- acquired over the years from hobby stores, toy soldier shows, and conventions. While they’re fun to dump out of the box and set up on the basement wargaming table to look at, I’ve long wanted some kind of gaming diversion in which they could play a  more active and structured role. No doubt a search of the internet could turn up some playable games created particularly for 54mm plastic soldiers; the many free options for miniature wargames I’ve investigated not only assume a solid familiarity with the intricacies of such rules but indulge in those rules’ frequent reliance on complex set-up and execution (and often do so with an uninspiring single-column, all text-and-tables, no illustrations layout regrettably typical of such free rule sets).

I accepted this self-made challenge: to create an interesting yet basic wargame using the 54mm miniatures at hand. I devised a concept based on the fact that I wanted to fight overwhelming battles from history where a small force stood against relentless onslaught from numerous attackers -- such as the British stand against Zulus at Rorke’s Drift or the many instances of British soldiers during the campaign to rescue Gordon at Khartoum standing their ground in a square against hordes of fanatical dervishes -- but with a limited number of figures. Armies in Plastic offers solid-color plastic soldiers in historically accurate sets of 18 or 20 at reasonable prices; artillery pieces with crews and sets of five horses and men offer some variation in forces. In most historical confrontations against colonial troops the “native” forces have vast numerical superiority; but I’m not about to purchase multiple boxes of dervishes to fight my one box of Her Majesty’s highlanders in the ratio suggested by the venerable The Sword and the Flame rules.

So I devised a “hordes”  mechanic by which a force that, in terms of available figures, equals those of the static line of defenders, but which forms new waves from casualty figures removed from the table after ranged and close combat. It basically “recycles” casualties from the larger force in subsequent waves of attackers, while the defenders must hold out for a certain number of turns as their casualties are removed entirely from play, thus dwindling their defensive force. This method isn’t really practical for a vast battle in which crowds of enemy troops maneuver around the table to outflank the smaller force and take advantage of terrain features; but it seemed ideal for playing out a portion of those battles where the side with numerical superiority often charged forward to engage the defenders, hoping to wear them down with each subsequent wave.

Starting Criteria

I focused (and possibly limited) my efforts on this game by determining to work under several criteria I felt essential for this particular game. Some even reflected my general game beliefs in terms of accessibility to newcomers:

Small Play Surface: While I enjoy the spectacle of vast battlefields covering numerous tables, I wanted this game to fit on one’s average tabletop, ideally on a 3x3-foot space. Many craft stores stock appropriately colored felt in those dimensions (such as tan for desert and green for fields). With each side fielding 18 or 20 figures, the smaller play space meant they wouldn’t seem as sparse as on a larger battlefield. As I began designing the basics of movement and range for the game, 3x3 feet seemed to work well.

Plastic Toy Soldiers: My main goal in this diversion was to put my collection of Armies in Plastic soldiers to practical wargaming use. Some craft, toy, and hobby stores also stock army men in periods beyond the modern -- medieval, Civil War, and American War of Independence are themes I frequently see on shelves -- so I wanted to provide a structured play platform for those, too.

Simple Rules, D6 Mechanics: I like basic rules as both a player and an advocate for attracting newcomers to the adventure gaming hobby (this would provide some challenges in practical execution). Although I also love polyhedral dice and the larger ranges of probabilities they offer; most folks have a few six-sided dice around the house from mundane board games.

Overall I wanted to offer an extremely basic miniature wargaming experience players could adjust across the various historical periods (and beyond if possible) given the “toys” at hand. As I started jotting down notes, pulling together rules, constructing turn sequences, and actually playing out a skirmish on the wargaming table downstairs, several design issues emerged to challenge both my starting criteria and overall gameplay.

Name Issues

At first I thought of calling the rules Hordes!since gameplay centers on a small force of defenders holding off hordes of dervishes, Zulus, or other factions with overwhelming numbers. But my attention wandered and I considered how players might use the rules in different battles: Confederate infantry charging Union troops behind a stone wall (or vice versa); British troops assaulting a Patriot barricade in the American Revolution (a favorite concept of mine in replaying the Battle of Ridgefield, from the town where I grew up); bug-aliens against well-armed space marines; even turning the tables and making those British colonial troops assault the defensive earthworks of Egyptian infantry during Arabi Pasha’s uprising of 1881. Besides, I’m conscious that some might find designation of native forces as “hordes” offensive.

So I looked at the gameplay I was trying to encourage in these rules and realized it focused on one vast force charging against a small group of defenders. I have an old album of military music -- including bugle calls -- appropriate called Charge! which I loved as a kid; what better name for a game which, essentially, consists of one vast charge? Now the tentative and more politically correct name for the project in question is Charge!

Player Decisions

One of the challenges I encountered, however, was devising basic rules that included meaningful player choices, which bucked the criteria mentioned earlier to keep the rules simple.

In the initial design, play passed through several traditional phases: attackers move forward, defenders fire (simultaneously with attackers if suitably armed), attackers throw weapons if so armed and within range, and both sides resolve close combat at the defensive line. Much of the gameplay focused on rolling handfuls of dice (one for each participant in ranged combat) and then a 2D6 roll plus the number of combatants on a side to resolve close combat. Attacker casualties go back to the starting line to move forward next turn while defender casualties leave the field permanently. Repeat. This amounted to little more than moving and rolling hits for forces, with few player choices to determine tactics.

Running scenarios on the wargaming table helped put things in perspective and forced me to more closely examine gameplay. I noted several key points where players made decisions to affect the game, though they were not as numerous or influential as I’d have liked, nor numerous enough for wargamers with any degree of experience. Attackers choose when to launch subsequent waves; obviously waiting until a wave has a good number of soldiers helps, but with a turn limit on the overall battle this sometimes becomes an issue. For attackers with spears the player had to choose whether they should throw them at troops still engaged in close combat, possibly hitting their own forces (a double-edged sword, since casualties lowered the overall chance of success in close combat, but instantly “recycled” to the charge’s starting line). I realized defenders had a choice, too; if attackers moved into close combat, or any close combatants remained at the end of the turn, the defender had to determine which soldiers remained engaged and which could fire on a new wave of charging attackers, possibly lowering the strength of his force in direct combat.

Balancing Advantages

I also realized I faced a challenge in creating and balancing advantages to both reflect possibilities for various historical periods and provide meaningful choices in gameplay. How should I integrate the possibility of artillery for defenders, and do I offer that option for attackers in terms of covering artillery fire for charging infantry? How do cavalry forces integrate within the established rules and existing infantry forces? What advantages within established game mechanics of movement and combat do I provide for attackers to reflect the historical “realities” (or “myths” as some might argue) such as Dervishes’ religious fervor or Zulus’ warrior prowess?

I’m developing different solutions to these problems as I quickly move forward dabbling with this game concept. This missive lacks the framework of actual game rules, something I’m developing to send out for playtesting when ready. At some point, however, I feel I’m just going to have to compromise on some issues, particularly those of developing an overly simple wargame and offering more options for player choice.

As always, I encourage constructive feedback and civilized discussion. Share a link to this blog entry on Google+ and tag me (+Peter Schweighofer) to comment.

Dragon & Challenge Nostalgia

In looking through my first issues of Dragon Magazine and Challenge Magazine -- acquired in my far younger days when the roleplaying game hobby was still new to many -- I re-evaluated the nostalgic fondness I’ve felt for them these many years. Of the many gaming periodicals that have come or gone, they’re they only two to which I actively subscribed…though I received my share of promotional copies and subscriptions of other magazines over the years, and picked up single issues of others that contained articles relevant to my many, diverse interests. Although one might argue that print magazines remain an extinct dinosaur in our current Internet Age, such relics offer a glimpse into the adventure gaming hobby’s past that can help inform us how to move forward with such material in the future.

Dragon Magazine Issue #66, October 1982

I discovered Dungeons & Dragons in the spring of 1982 (as an Easter present from my parents, no less), and spent the following months reading rules, playing games, devising adventures, and otherwise consuming B/X D&D and Advanced Dungeons & Dragons in what I fondly recall as the “Summer of D&D.” That autumn I started as a freshman in our town’s high school and was delighted to find a small clique of older students on my bus route who were quite into D&D (though I doubt the feeling was mutual). One day on the bus they were passing around and reading a gaming resource I’d never seen before: Dragon Magazine. At my next visit to the local hobby store I picked up a copy; my subscription form was soon in the mail.

Long considered the source for new material for Advanced Dungeons & Dragons (“official” or otherwise) and TSR’s many other game lines, my earliest issue of Dragon Magazine struck me on recent examination with two major impressions: many articles seemed contentious about what was “right” for the game; and others provided lots of new material like monsters and spells. At the time issue #66 released D&D was eight years old (1974 being the official publication date of the original “OD&D” edition), though the iterations of B/X D&D and AD&D familiar to most gamers released in 1977, about a year after Dragon Magazine began publication. In 1982 Gary Gygax still contributed a significant portion of the material each month, both in the form of columns filled with new rules or rules interpretations and editorial missives on various controversies and debates among contentious gamers.

At the time the fledgling adventure game hobby still debated game mechanic and theme issues as roleplaying games continued to evolve, both toward more established, “official” versions of existing games and toward newer, innovative releases. Dragon Magazine, obviously, served as TSR’s house publication, a forum for rules pronouncements from Gygax, and a font of new material from up-and-coming game industry writers.

Two other elements struck me in my nostalgic review of Dragon Magazine #66 that continued to hold true for print magazines. The advertisements offered an interesting glimpse of the state of the adventure gaming hobby of the time, including ads for mainstream game releases (TSR’s Gangbusters boxed set, Grenadier Models figures, Steve Jackson’s Illuminati, ICE’s Rolemaster series, and GDW’s Traveller) alongside smaller ads for play-by-mail games, mail-order game services, and the infamous “complete wizard outfit.”

The other element touched on what we’d call today “intellectual property” issues. Dragon Magazine #66 included an article provided AD&D stats and descriptions of characters from Wendy and Richard Pini’s legendary Elfquest comic book series (“graphic novel” series in today’s parlance). The article promoted the Elfquest series by porting its characters for use in AD&D, and even included a copyright notice acknowledging the Pini’s rights; but by today’s standards -- and by those demonstrated by contentious intellectual property owners even within the adventure gaming hobby -- this might well be considered copyright infringement.

Yet in my younger, more naïve days Dragon Magazine #66 packed engaging information about aspects of the game I’d not considered with a host of new material; though I was particularly drawn to it by the numerous articles on languages in D&D and the included Thieves’ Cant dictionary. The rules for the “Module Design Competition” inspired me to create more adventures (none worthy of submission, of course) and promised, and later delivered, a host of useful and entertaining scenarios in the magazine’s removable center pages. It continued inspiring my gaming efforts throughout high school and into my early college years, though by then other pursuits and my changing taste in games had me looking for other gaming periodical fare…

Challenge Magazine #41, 1989

I stumbled upon a back issue of Challenge Magazine in one of the game stores I frequented in the years after college when I worked as a reporter and later editor for my hometown weekly newspaper. I can’t recall which hobby store, because I frequented several on a regular basis; I also dropped in on any game stores near my younger gaming friends I often visited on college campuses. When they were home during the summer -- or on my frequent campus visits -- we played character-driven campaigns for West End Games’ Star Wars Roleplaying Game, GDW’s Space 1889, and R. Talsorian’s Cyberpunk 2020 (among other one-shots). When I found Challenge Magazine 41 in 1991 I was overjoyed; it covered many of the games our group played or ones that held my interest. I’d just picked up GDW’s re-launched MegaTraveller game, as I’d been a on-and-off fan of the Traveller game since my early gaming days. I subscribed to the venerable Journal of the Travellers Aid Society for four quarterly issues, so I was happy to see that periodical’s legacy transferred to a broader scope.

Issue #41 proved an accurate representation of what the Challenge Magazine would offer throughout its brief, bi-monthly run: solid support for GDW’s game lines, including MegaTraveller, 2300 AD, Space 1889, and Twilight: 2000 with occasional coverage for other contemporarily popular games, including Shadowrun, Cyberpunk, Star Wars, many by prolific or well-known authors of the time. After I was established at West End Games as editor of The Official Star Wars Adventure Journal we even hired one of Challenge Magazine’s frequent contributors as another editor for the game line in part based on his periodical work.

The subscription form from issue #41 remains cut out from my copy; I started my subscription with issue #49 in 1991 and held on until the magazine’s sad demise in 1995. The magazine had an open submission policy; I eventually submitted and published my first game material in my long and storied career, two Star Wars Roleplaying Game adventures (not very good ones, I’ll admit).

Like my first issue of Dragon Magazine examined in retrospect, Challenge Magazine #41 offered insights into two interesting aspects of game publishing at the time: advertisements and intellectual property issues. The magazine’s advertising focused by its very nature on GDW’s numerous game lines, with a few interesting additions featuring TSR’s Buck Rogers board game, FASA’s popular Battletech line, and White Wolf magazine. The more interesting aspect remains the conundrum of intellectual property rights. Certainly GDW filled Challenge Magazine with a host of material supporting its own games, but it remained open to submissions supporting other companies’ games, in many cases without their permission or oversight.

Most game companies enjoyed -- and some still do -- seeing their game lines promoted in such magazines even without the benefit of approvals oversight; it was, essentially, free publicity. I’d like to think the adventure gaming industry back then was a little more understanding and civil in such matters, though some companies raised a rather vocal fuss over such cross-promotional articles and aggressively protected their intellectual properties from appearing in anything but official company publications.

In our current Internet Age where intellectual property law sometimes wanders into such gray areas it seems publishers -- both professional and amateur -- prefer to avoid such problems. They can achieve this in some ways by producing material for games in the Open Game License realm or under Creative Commons licensing.

But for their time, both Dragon and Challenge Magazines treated their readers to a broad range of material that, yes, even included other companies’ games and even licensed properties. No doubt they intended it more to enhance the readers’ experience than profit from and offend the copyright holders in question.

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Thoughts on the Random Dungeon

I’m returning to my Oracle System-driven roleplaying game design for Basic Fantasy Heroes as an occasional break from work on the miniature wargame rules for Panzer Kids. The rules went through several rounds of playtesting earlier this year, with solid input and good insights on fine-tuning the system and improving the presentation. But aside from running a few test encounters myself to see how combat worked out within the overall Oracle System, I’d not have a chance to run a small band of heroes through a scenario. So I turned to a solitaire alternative using a random dungeon system to generate an adventure in which I, as player, truly could not anticipate what the characters would face from one room to the next. Beyond offering a taste of the Basic Fantasy Heroes game system mechanics in an actual play setting (albeit solitaire), the experience helped me come to some conclusions about what I expect in random dungeon solo play.

Rationale

I wanted to adhere to certain conditions in undertaking this foray into solitaire random dungeon adventuring, primarily to provide a realistic experience using the character and combat rules I’d developed in a fully unexpected setting. To this end I created three beginning characters using my Basic Fantasy Heroes rules: a priest, elf, and dwarf, each with their own specialties that would affect gameplay (primarily combat).

My main concern was generating a dungeon layout with interesting results for solo gameplay. I’m no expert on the various options available today for solitaire dungeon generation. Giving in to my nostalgia, I initially turned to the original material created on this subject, the Gygaxian system in “Appendix A. Random Dungeon Generation” of the Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Dungeon Masters Guide.

To vary my approach I also polled some folks on Google+. Several offered good suggestions on alternate, more recently developed random dungeon generation systems available. Thanks to John Fiore, host extraordinaire of the Solo Nexus blog, I picked up the No Budget No Frills Pencil and Paper Dungeon Generator, Ver. 3.0 by John Yorio over at the Tabletop Diversions blog. (Though I’m also interested in eventually picking up the geomorph Dungeon Dice Clayton Rider suggested.) The discussion also covered TSR’s Cardmaster Adventure Design Deck, which I own but declined to use in this particular exercise.

In both cases I decided to create my own first-level dungeon monster encounter table based on the low-level creatures I’d devised for Basic Fantasy Heroes -- not all the creatures I’ve developed have corollaries in the AD&D Dungeon Masters Guide monster tables, and I didn’t want to outright translate that game directly to mine -- but they still ran the range from bandits and goblins to giant centipedes and slime. The presence of traps in both dungeon generation rules revealed to me that I’d not considered rules for traps in Basic Fantasy Heroes; so I quickly drafted some functional notes on how certain iconic traps worked within the Oracle System framework with an eye to developing them more fully later.

I intended to try two strategies in recording my solo dungeon-delving experience: creating an annotated map (somewhat of a necessity in these exercises) and writing an in-character chronicle describing events, encounters, and reactions (an idea John Fiore has featured over at Solo Nexus, though he recommends not writing in a player character’s voice). Experience with both random dungeon generating systems showed the map an obvious requirement and the primary focus of the game. In the course of rolling, mapping, and handling combat encounters, however, I regret the adventure diary chronicle fell by the wayside; I liked the character narrator, but it seemed a strain to catalog encounters in an engaging style, even in the most general sense (though I was quite happy with my introduction).

The Gygaxian Labyrinth

At first glance the byzantine tables in the Dungeon Masters Guide appendix seemed to lead one down the path to revealing a dungeon with all the complexities one expects: traps, monsters, treasure, secret doors. Slightly weighted tables favored some results over others, but not by much. The system seemed more attuned to taking into account every possibility within the dungeon layout and offering an unbiased result, giving almost every option the same chance of occurrence.

Amid all the twisting corridors and intersections my intrepid heroes came upon seven rooms, four empty ones and three containing monsters. For the solitaire play -- and in chronicling the adventure writing as one of the heroes -- empty rooms proved extremely boring. I found myself wishing I had some means of determining any descriptive features about the chambers just to liven things up and give some clue about their past use and the dungeon’s origins. Despite the tables for traps and treasure, the heroes didn’t encounter any. The random monsters they confronted had no theme to them other than “Level 1” and, typical for this kind of exercise, there seemed no rationale for them being there other than excuses I created for the adventure diary chronicle: obviously bandits were probably looting the dungeon like the heroes and the cave mantids made a nest in one of the chambers, but why kobolds were hiding behind an illusionary wall in one room is beyond me.

What also occurred to me as I tired of this exercise was the lack of any meaningful conclusion. My heroes simply reached a point where they’d had enough and back-tracked their way to the dungeon entrance. Assuming they returned to the nearest town to tend their wounds and cash in their treasure, they had little compelling reason to return to their subterranean explorations other than the promise of haphazard carnage and loot.

No-Frills Simplicity

The no-frills dungeon generator promised a far more simplified method than the Gygaxian model: roll 1d12 and consult the table. The 12 possible results included an even distribution for various corridor types and three kinds of rooms, those with monsters, traps, and the infamous ones with nothing at all. Asterisked notes included intuitive methods for determining corridor length, chamber size, and the number of doors in a room (though I modified these from 1d10 rolls to 1d6 rolls). .

My heroes began their delve and started exploring the catacombs with far more ease than navigating the numerous Gygaxian dungeon-generation tables. The results seemed more interesting, too; of four rooms they discovered, two held monsters and two traps…no empty rooms in this dungeon. That’s as far as they got because the presence of more traps wore down the party. Traps appear in locations (rooms or corridors) one time in six, with monsters appearing one time in twelve. The dungeon also remained void of any kind of thematic rationale aside from the fact that the bandits were probably looting the place, too, and the giant centipedes had nested in another chamber.

Between the two random dungeon generation systems, though, I liked the no-frills one over the more complex and time-consuming Gygaxian method. The no-frills system benefitted from both brevity and a better presentation, with each result illustrated by a mini-map geomorph depicting the dungeon feature. But it highlighted the need for separate tables for corridors and rooms as well as the variability of having even slightly weighted tables. Both systems -- one possibly the first in the adventure gaming hobby, the other a recent refinement -- left me feeling somewhat unsatisfied. Yes, they both certainly challenged me as a player to use character resources and specialties to overcome adversaries and survive traps, but they lacked even the most basic contextual story elements.

Themed & Skewed

Although I actually achieved my original mission of playtesting the rules and characters in the context of a solitaire random dungeon crawl, I can’t help but consider how to craft a more fulfilling solitaire play experience in a relatively random dungeon. I think adding both a basic theme and some skewed (or escalating) results might help add more intriguing narrative elements to elevate the experience beyond a completely random hack-and-slash delve. I’m envisioning a quick setting paragraph to put the dungeon entrance and its theme in context, followed by tables to generate corridors and chambers (favoring some results over others). I’d include a monster encounter table customized to the theme (vermin, goblins, magical creatures, etc.) incorporating an escalating mechanic to push future rolls up the spectrum toward a “boss” monster. It’s something I’ll think about as a possible solitaire random dungeon generation system when I next feel the need to explore some new game design territory.

My ultimate lesson learned concerns the nature of random dungeon generation as discovered by the necessity of gradually revealed solo play. Dungeon delves -- while the primal form of adventuring in the hobby -- remain a limited form, more so in the random dungeon generation style used for solitaire play. More involved campaign play, balancing wilderness, town, and dungeon encounters, offers more possibilities for a richer solitaire experience and hence more interesting narrative possibilities for chronicles recording adventures.

Next time I need a break and feel the need to test my Basic Fantasy Heroes rules in a more varied narrative setting, I’ll grab my sets of Rory’s Story Cubes (regular and Voyages) and send my characters through the paces of John Fiore’s The 9Qs Solo RPG Engine.

As always, I encourage constructive feedback and civilized discussion. Share a link to this blog entry on Google+ and tag me (+Peter Schweighofer) to comment.

The Charm of Cozy Cons

In 30 years engaging in roleplaying games and other gaming pursuits -- including 20 of those years working in some capacity in the adventure gaming hobby -- I’ve attended my fair share of conventions great and small. While I’ve enjoyed the massive, crowded spectacle of GenCon, I’ve found more satisfaction at smaller, regional conventions with more personable atmosphere.

Mega-Cons

Immense conventions like GenCon -- and its cousin in the board and wargaming hobbies, Origins -- certainly have their place. They offer fantastic opportunities for those fortunate enough to attend all while drumming up floods of excitement for game lines. These mega-conventions often attract industry representatives from the hobby’s most illustrious publishers who interact with attendees in dealers halls and seminars; many use huge conventions to announce or debut new products or entire game lines. Awards ceremonies recognize outstanding achievements in the hobby. Demo areas offer gamers a chance to try the latest games, often with those actually involved in their production. They host a huge roster of events ranging from small games, mini-campaigns, organized play, vast miniatures scenarios, seminars, workshops, even giant-sized board games.

It can all seem a bit overwhelming, even to some who’ve attended several times. I was fortunate to go as a representative for West End Games while working on the Star Wars Roleplaying Game line and returned several times since. When I wasn’t working the booth or running a Star Wars game, I spent most of my time wandering the vast dealers hall, checking out games and companies that interested me, trying demos, talking with industry notables, and drumming up freelance business. The only games I ever ran were for West End Games events (including a few notable charity auction events featuring illustrious Star Wars novelists roleplaying their characters). I spent evenings with colleagues and friends, but, as I was usually working, couldn’t indulge in the all-night gaming that usually occurs. The crowds often hinder one’s ability to simply move around, whether you’re trying to navigate the ever-packed dealers hall, expo center corridors, nearby streets, or even restaurants. Attending a massive convention like GenCon always seemed like the ultimate aspiration for the average gamer -- it certainly was for me as a newcomer to the hobby long ago -- but such an overwhelming experience isn’t always the best introduction to the world of gaming conventions.

Small Regional Cons 

While the massive cons occur once a year in what for many gamers are geographically distant destinations, many live within driving distance of several smaller regional conventions. These vary widely on different levels, including the nature of the organizing body, venue size, variety of game offerings, and attendance. Local game clubs, gaming stores, or a core of gaming fan friends frequently organize conventions to encourage the hobby and offer a safe, hospitable place for longtime gamers and newcomers. They host events in whatever venues fit their expected attendance, planned activities, and budget, anywhere from a local civic center hall to all the conference facilities at an area hotel. The range of events varies, too, with different conventions offering roleplaying games, miniature wargames, board games, vendors halls, and panel discussions in different quantities. Convention attendance often fluctuates depending on its popularity, time of year, location, and reputation over the years, but many come in at less than 1,000 attendees; even those exceeding that number still seem small when compared with GenCon’s reported 50,000 unique attendees.

Some conventions rely on a cozy, community set-up where several aspects of the convention share a central space that encourages mingling and movement. This usually focuses on two areas essential to many conventions: gaming space and dealers hall. In these cases organizers sometimes take a vast ballroom space and -- without actually using room dividers -- designate different territory, with vendors at one end and game tables at the other, or with gaming tables in the center and dealers set up around the perimeter.

One of my first small conventions after I joined West End Games more than 20 years ago demonstrated this concept nicely. At the time MarsCon was a cozy little sci-fi fandom convention with a sizable representation for roleplaying and other games. The hotel programming space consisted of a large ballroom and a few smaller rooms (divided ballroom space) for seminars, workshops, and entertainment. Dealers occupied one third of the gaming ballroom; when the “dealers room” closed, hotel staff shut the divider on that portion of the room and locked the door. The arrangement allowed for the dealers to directly front the gaming area during most of the convention, giving free visibility and access to a solid portion of their customer base.

I’ve attended several bi-annual wargaming conventions in Williamsburg, VA, that demonstrate a similar community concept. The convention has one vast ballroom (in addition to several others divided for various kinds of gaming); tables for miniature wargames occupy the center of the ballroom with numerous vendor tables set up around the perimeter, allowing attendees to freely wander between the two, gaming, shopping, and observing all the convention’s action in the main venue. Certainly many cozy cons overflow into nearby meeting spaces or ballrooms, but concentrated as they are, they offer a cozy community space where most of the attendees can freely mingle whatever their personal goals for successful convention enjoyment. They offer a friendly atmosphere where gamers, customers, dealers, and convention goers mingle freely in a central common space.

As a gamer parent I’m partial to smaller events with fewer crowds and stimulus to overwhelm my preschool-age child and distract me from my parenting duties. Granted, I’m hoping to bring him to one of the smaller conventions within driving distance, though ones that require hotel stays to fully appreciate. My past experience has shown these can more fully cater to kids in providing a less-overwhelming atmosphere, plenty of friendly places to sit down and catch one’s breath, and yet not skimp on the presence of friendly gamers and fantastic-looking, engaging games. Keeping a few parental strategies helps, too: focusing on events the preschooler might like; staying open-minded in exposing him to new games; finding events particularly suited for kids or parent-child players; and knowing when to take a break or call it a day.

Where Do You Find Those Wonderful Cons?

Networking remains the key to finding fulfilling gaming experiences. The internet has made finding local conventions much easier through convention websites, social networking circles, gaming forums and communities, publisher websites, gamer blogs, and gaming news feeds. Running a web search for “Virginia gaming conventions” (inserting your own state name, of course) can summon a host of helpful and dubious convention listing sites. Don’t dismiss actual face-to-face networking, though; talk to folks in your gaming circles, including staff and customers at the Friendly Local Gaming Store (FLGS). Some regions have more conventions than others; it’s a sad commentary on the geographical distribution of gamers, game stores, and overall interest in the hobby.

I’ve taken years to discover and in many cases try out various local conventions. Many I found while looking around on the internet, though some I’ve heard about through word of mouth from fellow gaming friends. Some I try to attend as scheduling permits, but a few I’ve yet to try out. Living in on the frontier of Northern Virginia I’m within two hours’ drive or so of several interesting gaming conventions: Williamsburg Muster in February, Madicon in March; the relatively new 1d4Con in April; and Guns of August in, well, August. Virginia boasts several other conventions, but they’re primarily fan media cons with smaller, often tertiary gaming tracks.

The fluid and impermanent nature of the internet makes finding one source for regional conventions difficult, but here are a few websites which -- at first glance, at least -- look like fairly helpful, informative, and maintained convention listing websites: the Upcoming Cons website features a listing of gaming cons limited to the next several months (as well as listings for other kinds of cons); Game Convention Central lists cons by region (and includes international conventions); and the always-helpful BoardGameGeek website features a conventions listing wiki page.

Online communities also offer forums one can search for references to past or upcoming conventions and receive the usual biased reports on what goes on there, how well-organized they are, and the kind of events to expect. Searching Facebook and Google+ may also yield results, as many established (and even some nascent) cons maintain social networking presences there to build interest and inform potential con-goers.

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Cutting Down to the Essentials

In adapting Fantasy Flight Games’ Star Wars: X-Wing Miniatures Game for play with a three-and-a-half year-old preschooler I’ve learned some lessons about cutting down a game system to the essential rules, a task applicable to the kid-friendly tank skirmish game I’m developing.

Star Wars: X-Wing Miniatures Game

My preschooler son has reached a point where he’s voraciously absorbing everything Star Wars we allow (i.e., only original trilogy material), primarily inspired by the numerous Star Wars toys, games, and other images in my office. Over the past few months we’ve read him the pop-up book, listened to the soundtrack in the car ad nauseum, got out some old Playskool figures (and the Millennium Falcon) he plays with, and finally watched Star Wars: A New Hope together (the pre-special edition version).

We spent a day at Historicon this past July where he inevitably noticed and intently watched the last half of a Star Wars: X-Wing Miniatures Game playing out, including such ships as Han Solo’s Millennium Falcon and Darth Vader’s advanced TIE fighter. Between that and actually watching Star Wars he was hooked. Luckily I found a nicely discounted copy of the X-Wing Miniatures Game in the Historicon dealers hall; after adding a few more starfighters acquired in numerous quests to gaming stores near and far we were ready to play.

The game itself offers several levels of play, from the extremely basic quick-start rules to the main game and several more involved “additional rules.” The system includes some innovations on a style of miniature wargame “lite” popularized several years ago by the World War I aviation-themed Wings of War (an Italian game Fantasy Flight Games distributed in America). They’ve added several layers of complexity beyond the basic move-and-shoot system, including pilot actions (barrel rolls, focusing, evasion), pilot cards for each spacecraft to vary the pilot skill and actions, upgrade cards to enhance individual ships, and special eight-sided dice for attack and defense rolls.

Stripping this all down to the level of a three year-old seemed daunting at first, until I focused only on the quick-start rules, designed to get people playing right out of the box. These rules use the main ship stats, maneuver dial, movement templates, and dice in a very bare-bones game even young players can comprehend with a little adult gamer guidance. Gameplay focuses on the essential basics of movement and attack; no fancy actions, no dealing with pilot skill, no starship upgrades or special weapons. Granted, we play with lots of parental assistance using these extremely basic yet functional rules. From a parent’s perspective, it offers a chance to teach numbers using the movement and turn templates (“How far do you want your ship to move?”), counting dice to roll and their results, and direction (straight, left, or right; gradual turn or sharp turn). We also let the preschooler fly the Millennium Falcon, which, thanks to guns mounted on turrets, has a full 360-degree field of fire, so he doesn’t have to worry about lining up his target in a limited forward-facing fire arc. (It also gives him plenty of shields and hull strength so his ship has only rarely been eliminated during a game.)

We’ve played it several times, usually with Mommy flying Luke Skywalker’s X-wing fighter and Daddy fielding a pair of TIE fighters or the newly acquired TIE interceptors. With our help the preschooler has quickly mastered the basic game concepts (though his moves on the starfield don’t always make sense); so he’s recently asked for (and his parents desperately sought) some new additions to enhance his game experience. Although I thought he might appreciate the range rules -- allowing an extra attack die when firing on close targets or giving an extra defense die for those at long range -- my son saw the cardboard punch-out asteroid pieces used in some of the game’s missions and wanted to use those. Of course, they made the game harder for Daddy’s TIE fighters….

Panzer Kids Basic

My approach to a kid-friendly tank skirmish game takes a similar strategy as the X-Wing Miniatures Game’s incrementally more involved rules. I intend to release Panzer Kids in two stages, the free/pay-what-you-want PDF basic edition containing the barebones rules, several tank stat cards, rulers, and print-and-play top-down tank pieces (in lieu of miniatures kids can find or purchase from other sources). The for-pay Deluxe Edition would include all the basic rules plus tons of optional rules players can learn piecemeal and include in their game when they feel ready to add greater depth of play.

I’m in the process of drafting the core rules based on pages of notes and disparate paragraphs hastily written as inspiration came in the design process. As I write I’m finding a number of things to toss out of the basic edition. I knew I’d relegate many rules essential to complex miniature wargames to the more advanced deluxe edition -- hull down vehicle cover, static anti-tank guns, shots at close range, traversing difficult terrain, mine fields, and mission objectives -- but I’m still finding concepts I thought might work in the basic edition to move to the deluxe edition or even eliminate altogether. Here are a few I’d thought to include in the basic game that, in the course of developing a rules set for a younger audience, I ultimately decided to cut to stick more closely to the absolute essentials:

Variable Scale: I’d originally intended to include information (primarily speed and range, both measured in inches) for both 15mm and 6mm “micro-scale” tanks. I personally like wargaming with both, and have a small collection of tanks from the North African theater in both scales. But in considering what kids might have available to them, or what they might find in hobby, toy, and game stores, I decided to cut references to the 6mm scale. I’ll include some top-down pieces kids can print and play with in lieu of actual miniatures, but will relegate the 6mm information as an optional appendix in the deluxe version of the game.

Deployment Options: In determining how players set up games, I’d devised a few alternatives to the basic “put your tanks along your edge of the battlefield” strategy reflecting the terrain set-up and any slight disparity in the total unit point costs between Axis and Allied player forces. For instance, with cover terrain set up along the middle of the play area, the side with the slightly lower total point cost might deploy tanks up to 12 inches from their edge of the board. In writing these conditions out, however, I realized it might be too much for kids to comprehend amidst all the other nuances of miniature wargame rule. These options might go into a sidebar in the deluxe rules’ movement section, but they don’t belong in the basic game.

Unit Point Cost: The gamer in me insisted on rating each tank type with a “cost” to field it, a value reflecting its firepower, armor, and speed. Theoretically this helps each side build a force of relatively equal strength to make sure each has a fair chance of winning. But when I took a closer look comparing Axis and Allied tanks, I realized they had fairly close values. Rather than spend an entire section explaining the concept of unit point costs and balancing forces, I cut it and instead offered some suggestions for Axis and Allied tank face-offs (mostly from the North African theater). Most represent equivalent numbers of tanks (3 German Pkw IIIs against 3 British Crusader IIs), though the one exception proved the Pkw VI Tiger tank, which I paired against two M3 Stuart tanks.

Two miniature wargaming concepts remain essential to playing the game beyond simply moving and shooting in the open: line of sight and cover. Both might seem too complex to include in the basic edition, but through playtesting I realized they really form the core of tactical decisions for a small skirmish. Players need to maneuver their tanks around the available cover (mostly hills and oases in my desert games) to hide from enemy tanks and gain some small advantage from cover.

I also realize these rules remain bound to other constraints I’ve placed on myself, notably some foundation in the tanks’ historical performance (demonstrated in the tank stats themselves) and a desire to introduce young gamers to wargaming concepts one degree beyond simply moving and shooting. I have also, rather foolishly I might argue, taken on the challenge of trying to draft a set of miniature wargame rules intended for kids 10 and older to pick up on their own, learn, and play without adult supervision. Old Dominion GameWorks’ Mein Panzer Junior offers a set of basic move-and-shoot tank rules with some slightly more complex stages; but it presumes involvement and supervision from a miniature wargames-informed adult. (Downloading these free rules requires registration at the ODGW website.)

  

We’ll see how my continued development and writing for the Panzer Kids rules challenges my ability to hone rules down to their bare minimum while still clearly and concisely explaining game concepts to a younger audience.

As always, I encourage construction feedback and civilized discussion. Share a link to this blog entry on Google+ and tag me (+Peter Schweighofer) to comment.

Our Geeky Pilgrimage Home

Usually about once a year my wife, toddler son, and I make the arduous pilgrimage “home” to New England to visit our families. Aside from the 8-10-hour drive -- complete with annoyingly frequent queries of “Are we there yet?” -- it’s a time for us to reconnect with our families and revel in memories of growing up in New England. We rarely visit for more than a week, given two entire days to drive there and back again, and our time is often already assigned to various family gatherings to maximize our visit with as many relatives as possible. But occasionally we find time to indulge our own interests, inevitably those of a geeky nature.

Game Quest

My personal quest was to find some additional miniatures for Fantasy Flight Games’ Star Wars: X-Wing Miniatures Game. I’d bought into the game after the initial wave of hype and, given FFG’s distribution rationale and collectors/gamers snatching up starships for resale and high mark-ups or to add to their own collections, choice vessels were hard to find (ironically Boba Fett’s Slave I was seemingly overstocked everywhere, followed closely by the Millennium Falcon). My toddler son, now absorbing everything Star Wars we allow (i.e., only original trilogy material), has latched onto the game, which we play with lots of parental assistance using the extremely basic yet functional quick-start rules.

I’d searched online and found two game stores near our destinations. We had a day to ourselves in Massachusetts before becoming immersed in family activities, so we drove down to Warren, RI, just southeast of Providence, to visit my wife’s friend’s soap shop, the Stella Marie Soap Company; not two blocks away stood The Game Den, a cozy store with retail display space and several gaming tables in a nicely renovated brick industrial building. Being midday on a Friday the store was quiet, but the staff was friendly; they also had the A-Wing miniature I was seeking, some additional specialty dice for the X-Wing Miniatures Game, and a discounted copy of King of Tokyo, a game I’d been hoping to acquire after seeing it featured on Wil Wheaton’s excellent Tabletop online video series over at YouTube’s Geek & Sundry channel (the game also caters to my wife’s love of Godzilla and other giant monster fare).

On our way back to my wife’s parents’ house we diverted through downtown Worcester, MA, via the vortex of traffic chaos known as Kelly Square, for her to swing by the Worcester Historical Museum to pick up a book she wanted and stop by That’s Entertainment on Park Avenue. The store is a wonderful warren of tables and shelves covered in comic books, vinyl records, games, action figures, and other goodies for fans of numerous stripes. Although dominated by comic books, the store had a solid representation of board games, with recent roleplaying game releases as well as several shelves of used books (including a small collection of West End’s Star Wars Roleplaying Game books). Although I didn’t see anything on display for the X-Wing Miniatures Game beyond the core set and several Falcons and Slave Is, I asked at the counter and they’d just gotten their shipment of new starfighters; so I snatched up two TIE Interceptors for my collection.

Danbury Geekery

Although we didn’t have a chance to swing by Cave Comics in Newtwon, CT, on our way to my parents’ house, I’ll recommend it here as one of our usual stops (schedule permitting) to peruse their mainstream collection of board games and miniatures, usually combined with a stop at Burgerittoville next door for lunch, all housed in a classic railway depot building.

While we didn't indulge in game-related pursuits in Danbury, we found other geeky activities well-suited to our toddler’s interests. We spent a few hours at the Danbury Railway Museum housed in the city’s former train depot. The museum might seem small at first: the former waiting room contains several large model train layouts and exhibits featuring railway equipment and tools. For an additional fee visitors can ride in a vintage coach or caboose pulled through the train yard by a diesel engine, with a stop to get out and ride on the yard’s functional turntable track. For railway aficionados, however, the yard itself offers opportunities to explore rolling stock and engines both dilapidated and in various stages of restoration. Other railway museums exist in the northeast with far more comprehensive exhibits and more complete railway excursions (and far more expensive admission prices); while we have them on our “to do” list for family expeditions, the Danbury Railway Museum was just the right speed to keep our toddler entertained and engaged for a few hours.

We also partook of what has become an unofficial family tradition: riding the carousel at the Danbury Fair Mall. The classic carousel stands as one of the few reminders of the mall’s original heritage as the once-sprawling site of the great Danbury Fair. After last year’s attempt -- with our toddler literally kicking and screaming -- we finally succeeded, though the Little Guy chose to sit on one of the stable benches instead of even a stationary horse.

My parents live in Ridgefield, CT., where I grew up. We always enjoy walking downtown on the bustling Main Street, noting changes from my younger days, and spending time at the playground in Ballard Park. Inevitably we make a trip to The Toy Chest nearby, a tight warren of shelves packed with diversions for young and old, including a solid board game section and a fine selection of toy cars (our toddler got the candy-apple red BMW roadster). This year we finally had time for my favorite store, Books on the Common, housed in the building near Town Hall that for many years housed Bedient’s Hardware, where I had my first job in high school. Here I found two tomes catering to my interest in local history, Jack Sanders’ Ridgefield 1900-1950 (part of the Postcard History Series) and Charles Pankenier’s monograph Ridgefield Fights the Civil War. (I’d worked for Jack as a reporter and editor at The Ridgefield Press years ago in my first job out of college; he’s become one of several leading and prolific town historians.)

The One that Got Away

Our pilgrimage faced one major failure -- not just this year but for all 10 years my wife and I have been married, actually -- for we have never visited the fantastic collection of medieval arms and armor at the Higgins Armory in Worcester. We made it into the gift shop one visit while rushing between family gatherings, but never quite had the time to go inside and take the time to view the exhibits. Unfortunately the museum has fallen victim to the economic woes plaguing the nation and is closing at the end of 2013; luckily the collection is “integrating” to the Worcester Art Museum. Although the museum plans on exhibiting pieces from the Higgins Armory collection piecemeal in temporary exhibits, the entire collection won’t be reassembled again until the museum converts its current library space to a permanent exhibition gallery for the collection sometime in 2018. Something to put on the future “to do” list for our pilgrimage home. Maybe by that time we’ll have fully immersed our toddler into medieval history and other such fantasy fueled by arms and armor.

Simultaneous Action Resolution

Many non-gamers assume players take turns in games, each one resolving their actions fully before moving on to the next player. Gamers obviously have a bit more experience with different player sequences and resolution, whether using an innovative initiative system in a roleplaying game, flipping playing cards to see which side’s units move and shoot in miniature wargames, participating in a shifting player order in a European-style board game, or, my favorite, resolving actions simultaneously so nobody’s knocked out of the game before they get a chance to take a parting shot.

Even in traditional turn-taking games I prefer every piece to have a chance to take action even if enemy fire that turn would normally destroy it; the Axis & Allies Miniatures Game and it’s War at Sea naval version do a good job of simultaneously resolving hits by noting how much damage units take and removing destroyed units at turn’s end after every piece has had a chance to move and shoot. In Panzer Kids, the beginner-friendly tank miniatures game I’m developing, I make sure to allow every tank within range and line of sight to a target a shot before accrued hits take effect and knock some tanks out of the skirmish.

While player sequencing helps maintain order at the game table, resolving actions simultaneously not only provides a better sense of fairness but forces players to remain involved and focused on the game throughout their and others’ turns. It’s a rules element I prefer, when available, in whatever games I’m playing; I try incorporating simultaneous action resolution into game designs when the mechanic seems suitable to the game’s style, overall mechanics, and theme. I’ve enjoyed some experience in other games with simultaneous action resolution:

Wings of War/Glory: One of the elements I like about Wings of War/Wings of Glory remains the simultaneous attack resolution. After all units have moved, everyone determines which enemy planes are in range and which ones they’re attacking, with target aircraft taking damage cards (or chits in the WWII version) with different damage values (including zero); aircraft with hits reaching their damage resistance value are destroyed. This procedure, however, allows the target plane to get off a shot even if, when taking hits itself, it would be eliminated at the end of the turn. In the Star Wars: X-Wing Miniatures Game -- a direct derivative of the Wings of War/Glory game with some original innovations -- ships move and shoot according to their pilot skill value (higher being better); less experienced pilots move first and shoot last in those respective phases, while veteran pilots naturally maneuver last and attack first. Although movement might seem like a simultaneous action -- with maneuvers revealed on a previously set dial, much as flyers in Wings of War/Gloryreveal cards for maneuvers -- the addition of actions like barrel-rolling, targeting, evading, and focusing all reveal the intentions of players moving first. Since combat is fully resolved in turn beginning with the better pilots, they can knock less experienced pilots out of the game before everyone’s had a chance to shoot that turn. I enjoy Wings of War/Glory that much more because I know, even if my plane’s going down in flames this round, I have a chance to take a parting shot at an enemy aircraft.

D6 System Roleplaying Game: When I run roleplaying games with built-in initiative systems I generally resolve actions simultaneously in my head, with an eye toward fairness to player characters and unexpected plot developments from actions with results that often clash. I frequently discard built-in initiatives systems -- intended to impose structure on player and gamemaster actions -- in favor of an improvised yet simultaneous task resolution method. Typically I’ll announce the characters’ adversaries intentions then go around the table to each player (usually varying my start point each round) asking for their characters’ actions and letting them know what relevant skills to roll. I roll the gamemaster character skills, noting how well they did in terms of success/failure and degree of success (for opposed rolls). As players reveal their skill roll results I figure out what’s going on in relation to opponent actions, then narrate the outcome. This certainly makes a bit more work for the gamemaster to mentally keep track of what all the characters and their adversaries are doing, but makes for some interesting moments as simultaneous action resolution brings about some unexpected results. I also find the technique -- or the simple omission of an intrusive initiative game mechanic -- far more cinematic.

Oracle System: I’m building the Oracle System -- the basis for a retro-clone-style fantasy roleplaying system I’m developing -- on the concept of simultaneously resolving combat between two opposing parties, including chances to hit and defend in one roll. A hero rolls her dice while the gamemaster rolls dice for her opponent; each counts up defend results (2s and 3s), a number of which (equal to the character’s armor value) can cancel out the opponent’s hits (4s, 5s, and 6s), with any hits getting through armor lowering the defender’s overall dice (both an indication of ability and health). In this fashion two opponents can conceivably knock each other out of a skirmish; even someone about to be vanquished still has a chance to inflict damage with a parting shot. (You can read more about the Oracle System and its simultaneous combat resolution mechanic in an earlier blog entry.)

Simultaneous action resolution isn’t right for every game. They often becomes a choice over other game concerns. For instance, I’m sure the Star Wars: X-Wing Miniatures Game designers felt using a pilot skill value was far more important to the overall game strategy than simultaneous attack resolution; in fact, offering different pilot expertise levels helps players build diverse squadrons essential for both varied skirmish scenarios and organized play (a cornerstone of the game’s appeal and marketing approach to the gaming community). Mechanics remain the primary consideration; if simultaneous resolution doesn’t work with the core game system -- or needs additional fiddling to fit it in -- it doesn’t belong. It’s a convention I enjoy in many games, but not at the expense of fluid and engaging gameplay.

As always, I encourage construction feedback and civilized discussion. Share a link to this blog entry on Google+ and tag me (+Peter Schweighofer) to comment.