2d6

I love dice games. The feel of rolling dice is very satisfying and they can simplify a lot of mechanics into quicker playing games. Custom dice are great. Rolling a huge handful of dice for a big attack is exciting. The many combinations of polyhedrals for RPGs is fascinating. But my favorite use of dice is 2d6. That’s two standard six sided dice.

I love using 2d6 because it provides a nice bell curve of possibilities while remaining in a relatively tight space of results from 2 to 12.

The 2 and 12 are exciting rarities, each occurring less than 3% of the time. While a 7 is common, occurring almost 17% of the time. The numbers in between are easy to estimate while playing. The closer to 7 the easier it is to get.

In Catan players can easily see which resources will hit more often and use that knowledge to value their trade potential.

Can’t Stop uses 4 dice that then must be paired to make two 2d6 results. Choosing how to pair them gives you some choice in the game. And the board layout balances the difficulty of rolling certain numbers with the length of the path for those numbers. So you could try for the easy 6, 7, and 8 but you will need to hit them a lot more than taking the shorter but riskier 2 and 12 paths.

Machi Koro lets you choose which buildings to build that will trigger on different numbers. You can build a lot of things to trigger on common numbers or spread out your abilities so you always get something.

Even Monopoly uses 2d6 creating a somewhat predictable pattern of movement which you could study to improve your odds if you felt like investing the time.

2d6 provide an interesting design space where you can be somewhat sure of the results over time as opposed to the pure randomness of a single die but not have to deal with the more complex math of larger amounts of dice. For me, it’s the perfect balance of chaos and control.

Dead Ends and Going Back

As you work on a game design you identify problems, formulate solutions, test, and repeat. Sometimes the solution is right and you move forward, other times the solution is wrong and you try something else.

However, sometimes several successful iterations can hit a dead end. In these situations trying to fix a problem and move forward can be impossible. You can waste a lot of time and energy trying, but the only solution is to go back and take a different path.

Sometimes you’ll have to go back several iterations and this can feel like all of those versions were a waste of time. But any thought put into a design is not wasted. You either learn something that works or you learn something that doesn’t.

Things that you incorporated while on that dead end path could still become useful on your new path. Lessons learned can still apply and things that didn’t work before may have a new chance to work.

I recently went down a dead end path with Plutocracy. I’ve written before about my idea to add player pawns to give players a more definite sense of who they are in the game. While this solution did exactly what it was intended to do, a side effect was that it changed the feel of the game.

Player interaction was almost entirely lost. Economic manipulation was no longer a thing. Combat was never entered intentionally. Even though the core of the game is about not being tied to a single empire, players usually chose one empire and just worked with that one. Each exploring out in a different direction and gathering points until the game ended.

I was very tempted to move forward and fix the problem. I started working on grand design changes that would essentially make a different game. Then I stopped. I realized my solution wasn’t really what I wanted this game to be. So I’m backing up a few steps to before players had pawns on the board. I’m incorporating some of the things I learned along that path and trying to fix the original problem of player incentives in a different way.

Game design isn’t a linear path that you travel down from idea to completion. It is an endlessly splitting labyrinth with many dead ends and many possible exits. Don’t be afraid to back up and try a different path.

How Small Can A Game Be?

This is a tough question without some parameters. First, when I talk about a game’s size I’m not necessarily referring to its physical dimensions. Anything can be made pretty small. So the more practical question would be what is the minimum number of pieces needed to make a game?

The answer to that is zero pieces. Many games exist as simply a physical or verbal act. Some of these are even based on rules that are remembered instead of written. So there are no pieces at all.

But let’s say we want to sell a game with very few pieces, but more than zero, because people are hesitant to pay for nothing.

What are the fewest pieces we can make a game with where the pieces add value to the game experience that could not be achieved without them.

I want to say the answer is one. I tried making a small game a while back. I tried working with a single die and a single card. It didn’t really work out for me. Then I worked towards using a single tile. I made Flipped. Game play consisted of flipping the tile and then performing the challenge that was pointing at you. Each challenge involved using the tile to perform some dexterous feat. So the game was all about this one integral piece. Except that it needed a rules sheet to explain what all the challenges were. And since players earned points, you really needed to keep track with some coins or tokens. So 1 tile, rules, and a handful of tokens. Not the single piece game I hoped for.

There are a lot of small games out there. Many are a single card, but they also require some tokens or dice. Or the card is really just a set of rules for a game that needs no pieces.

When you add a few more cards or pieces, the world of micro games opens up. But I’m going to continue trying to make a single piece game.

Patreon Fee Changes

By now you have probably heard of the changes Patreon is making to its fee structure this month. Patreon says they are changing the structure so patrons pay the fees and creators get a larger percentage of the pledge. The more accurate version is that they are having patrons pay the fees and adding a 35 cent fee to each pledge. So with this change, at lower pledge levels, if you include the fees in the math, creators are getting a lower percentage of the price a patron pays.

This is an especially big change for people that support a lot of creators for 1 or 2 dollars a month. If you make 20 $1 pledges each month your price will jump from $20 to $27.60. If this is a financial burden for you, you would need to stop supporting 6 creators to lower your pledges to the previous level. That’s 6 creators that are losing a piece of their community.

Here is a useful comparison chart posted by Ben Wolfe.

 

Because the changes are not as drastic for larger pledges I think this may be a bigger hit to creators’ communities than their finances, though that really depends on the distribution of their patrons.

Right now it looks like creators and patrons are upset about the change and many are looking for alternative ways to financially support creators. Hopefully everyone can find a way to continue supporting and creating. And if you do find yourself dropping support for a creator that you still enjoy, reach out and let them know that you still enjoy their content. For many creators, myself included, a kind word about their hard work is worth much more than a dollar.

Your Game is Harder Than You Think

If you’ve been reading the blog or following me on social media you are familiar with my game Plutocracy. I’ve been working on it for about a year now and it has been a difficult problem to solve, but one that is so intriguing I can’t let it go. I’ve written about the trouble of making player incentives and my attempts at streamlining the rules. My dead ends and my redirections. This post isn’t about Plutocracy, though my play test of it last night is the inspiration and will serve as an example. This post is about how difficult it is for a designer to understand how complex their game is because they understand the complexity of their game.

I wrote previously about my idea to give players a better stake in the game by adding pawns that represent the player and limit their area of influence. I implemented this change for last night’s test. This was the major change of this version. It also had a different board structure and modified scoring, but the majority of mechanics were almost identical to previous versions.

The group play testing was one of my regular groups. They have all played Plutocracy many times before. They are all game designers and experienced players. I had high hopes for this version. I felt it would solve the incentive problem and allow me to move forward to adjusting numbers to fine tune the game. So I was surprised when the game mechanics gave them so much trouble.

As I said, the majority of mechanics hadn’t changed. They just had a pawn on the board that meant they couldn’t affect planets too far away. But this one change made the game different to them. So they kept questioning how things worked and my answer was usually, “The same as it did in the last version.”

In the end, the game went alright. It did a lot of what I wanted, but there were some big issues with the initial setup that caused some problems for the whole game. The concept I was reminded of during our discussion was that when you design a game, it makes sense to you in a way that no other person can quite grasp. This can lead to the issue I had.

The changes I made were minor to me, the game still had the same mechanics, but a game is much more complicated to anyone who is not the creator of it. So if you make a design and it is simple and clear in your head, everything fits together, is intuitive, and flows well. It’s probably more complicated for players than you realize.

It’s hard to notice because it’s a matter of perspective that you, as the designer, can’t have. Perhaps putting a design away for a year or two so you completely forget about it could help. But I think the best thing to do is realize it will happen, and play test until it works for your audience, not just you.