I’ve been working on this game now for over a year. It started as an abstract strategy game that was kind of like bejeweled or something, and then I decided to take it in a D&D Boxing direction with the Battle Blast theme.
Now the design is maturing in a lot of ways. One small example: instead of your attacks dealing random amounts of damage, minions have a random amount of health. So it’s basically just one of the ways to convert the output randomness to input randomness.
Another neat thing: you have stats, like attack damage and items that change that, and the enemies have health and armor and all of that, but health is visually represented as pips underneath a minion that simply “how many of your attacks it WILL take to take down this minion”.
Here’s a rundown.
It’s an American Gladiators or Nickelodeon’s Guts! type of TV game show. A sport – played single player, against basically an advanced strategic obstacle course, fighting robotic minions.
What are the criteria that make something a good “Clockwork Game”?
The Clockwork Game Design model is something I have been working on for the last five years or so. It is specifically an effort to figure out how to make the most elegant and effective strategy games possible. There are certainly practical reasons why you might not want a specific game to be a Clockwork game. But to the extent that you want your strategy game to be elegant, you should adopt as many of these principles as possible.
Below is a list of criteria that strategy games should strive for. I am sorting them by how controversial they are. In other words, I am putting the stuff people pretty much agree upon towards the bottom.
For the past five years or so, I’ve been talking about the input/output randomness concepts, and why they’re so important for game design. While I wasn’t the one who coined the terms—that honor goes to the great fellows at the Ludology Podcast—some Googling around shows that no one has talked about the concepts, or developed them, nearly as much as I have.
In short, talking about randomness, especially in these terms, is kind of my thing.
Here’s a quick list of some of the more notable times that I spoke in depth about this subject:
Between that, and the fact that I recently praised League of Legends and its developer, Riot, for some of the radical things they’ve been doing to their game, you can imagine how pleased I was to see that a Riot designer, Greg Street, made a video talking about input and output randomness in League.
I want to do three things with this article. First, I want to signal to the Riot devs that I would be more than happy to help them out with this project of making the game more input-randomnessy and less output-randomnessy. Let’s chat!
Second, I will talk about the current state of randomness in the game. And finally, I will talk about a few of my recommendations going forward.
You should check the links above for more detail, but the very short and rough explanation of input/output randomness is that they are describing the distance between new random information and the user’s ability to react.
Input randomness is stuff like the Tetris “Next” box, or a randomized map—stuff where the user has time to see what the random information is and make decisions based on it. Fog of war is also often used as a mechanism for input randomness: you see stuff usually a turn or two before it can threaten you.
Output randomness is stuff like “roll to hit” in RPGs or games like X-Com. You decide to attack a thing, and then there is random information which comes into the game and determines whether that hit connects or not. In this case, you have zero time to “respond” to the new random information. The course of the game has now been altered by pure randomness, unfiltered by your decision-making.
A quick note is that actually, input and output randomness exist on a spectrum. Randomness which is really close to the user but still technically is input randomness(imagine 1-tile-radius fog of war) may actually be so close as to function similar to output randomness. For more on this, read my article on the Information Horizon.
There are a number of sources of randomness in League already, but what’s exciting is what they’ve been adding, so let’s talk about that first.
One of the big ones, that they’re talking about in the video, is the new Dragons (or I guess they’re calling them Drakes? I’m going to call them dragons) system. Every game, there is a random elemental dragon. Killing each dragon gives your team a different kind of buff—something like, Air dragons make you move faster, fire dragons make you deal more damage, Earth make you destroy towers faster, and so on. After one of these dragons is killed, a new random one will spawn.
But here’s the cool thing, and when I saw it, I was impressed, because it’s exactly what you should do. The dragon takes awhile to respawn. But on the dragon’s death, the next dragon is selected and a big bright symbol is painted on the dragon’s lair wall for everyone to see. This is a great example of input randomness. Both teams know exactly what random dragon is going to spawn there, and decisions can be made around that.
This system is a really great start. There should be a lot more of this on the League of Legends map (which I guess they call “Summoner’s Rift”? I’m going to call it “the League of Legends map”).
Category #1: Increasing input randomness. I believe that by making the League of Legends map more dynamic and more different each game, Riot can worry less about perpetually adding content to the system and the sort of “patching just for the sake of keeping things fresh” idea that they arguably do sometimes.
Randomized geometry. Why is the map geometry—the pattern of the walls and everything—the same exact every match? Is this geometry sacred? Remove this brush, put a pillar here, change the shape of this wall. You can definitely design the parameters in such a way that it’s always fair for every character, yet slightly different every game. If you’re really worried about it causing balance problems, maybe have it change randomly at 10 minutes and at 20 minutes, or something.
Randomize all jungle monsters. Having a fixed jungle means having a fixed jungle route. Instead why not have there be a few more jungle monsters, but what they are and where they are is randomized somewhat. That way you can have a more dynamic and less “memorized Starcraft build-order” automatic pathing to the jungling. Make it mirrored, so it’s fair.
Random plants. I love the new “plants” system, and maybe it’s just the beginning. But why not randomize the positions and the types for these plants? Make it mirrored, so it’s fair.
Push the dragons further. Right now the buffs are cool, but maybe instead of just the four elements, it’s four different kinds of monsters as well. So you could have an Earth Wizard who does lots of magic damage, or a Fire Ogre who has shitloads of health. Maybe Ogres, when killed, change the terrain somewhere else or spawn plants somewhere.
Random (mirrored) cannon minions, and more? I like the idea of there being some more variance in the minion-stream itself. What if randomly, every 5-7 waves or so, a super minion spawned on one of each team’s lanes (probably, it can’t be the same lane). There could be a little map alert telling both teams about this. I spent like two minutes thinking of this idea, I don’t know—but the point is, I do think there’s a lot more that could be done with minions than is being done here.
Category #2: Removals of existing output randomness. These aren’t quite as important in my view, and they’re also less likely to be taken up by Riot for a number of reasons. But ideally, I’d love these to be changed.
Remove Random Critical Hits. This is totally unnecessary for this game. It’s totally a vestigial D&D thing and all it does is unnecessarily loosen up a system which already is very loose. I’m actually surprised that high level players don’t complain about this, because a lucky crit at the wrong time can completely change the course of a match.
Reduce execution across the board. This one is hard, and I don’t expect Riot to act on it for that reason. But, in an ideal world, we should be making the game be less about crazy reaction speed in team fights, and more about strategy. Removing skillshots and having them be target-based is one suggestion here. Getting rid of “burst” (massive amounts of damage in a tiny window of time) as a concept would be a much wider scope change that would really benefit the game. That would mean questioning the roles of burst-mages and assassins, which is a huge job, but personally I think it would be worth it. Because, as I’ve written about before, execution is a form of randomness, and this becomes more and more the case the faster players are asked to execute.
Anyway, those ideas are mostly off-the-cuff (but not getting rid of random crits. That seriously needs to go), but the point is just to demonstrate some ways that Riot’s designers—and designers in general—can use the input/output randomness theory in practice to create a better experience. Using input randomness in this way, you can get the “variety” that is so sought after using extremely costly (both in terms of production costs and accessibility costs) asymmetry content, while also providing players with a fair, balanced competitive experience.
I’m really glad to see someone as high profile using these terms. If you know of anyone else talking about randomness in this way, please let me know in the comments!
My official position is that you can’t really “improve” Go. There might be something in there worth salvaging, but you can’t just tweak some rules and make Go better. That’s not because Go is so great, but because tweaking rules on an existing system like that tends to create vastly horrible results.
With that said, it might be an interesting intellectual exercise to sort of try to graft on the Clockwork Game Design concepts onto Go and see what you get.
Every day I throw down failed game design ideas. Today I thought I’d share one with you guys just to get a little game design conversation going. (With the election and everything, things have been a little slow on that front recently.)
Here’s as far as I got, just to get you guys started.
Some basic ideas for it:
13×13 board, as a starting place. Would scale up or down as necessary. Maybe the board shouldn’t even be square, not sure.
Fog of war. Basically my idea was that you get a vision range of 2, but this doesn’t actually make any sense in practice for a few reasons. One is that you shouldn’t be able to place pieces on the perimeter (random), let alone across the board in some random fogged spot. And the second is that at some point (possibly 10-12 moves in) you’re going to just see the whole board – bye bye, hidden information. There may be solutions to these problems, but I don’t know. (I’ll come back to this at the end.)
At least 1 piece down already, probably more like 3-4 in a random, non-mirrored configuration (this is to avoid guessing what the opponent is doing in the fog).
Grey pieces are down in a mirrored configuration. Grey pieces turn your color when you put a piece next to them. Or maybe they do something different?
A few thoughts I had as I was giving up on this:
– Maybe this could be single player somehow? Like having to do with the grey pieces? Probably not.
Back to the fog of war and the problems with it: funny thing about this is, it doesn’t really work, and one of the reasons it doesn’t work is the “I can just lay down pieces willy-nilly whereever I want with no restrictions” element of Go to begin with.
Anyway, like I said, I make these kinds of failed little concepts all the time and since things have been slow around these parts recently, I thought I’d share this one totally non-working, bad idea with you.
How would you apply the Clockwork Game Design design methodology to Go? Just to review, here are some of the demands:
This is a short follow-up to my article, “Uncapped Look-Ahead and the Information Horizon“, in which I proposed the concept of an information horizon: the distance between the current turn, and the point at which information becomes known to a player (usually, but not always, this means that it has become “public information”).
A simpler way to word it is, “how much time do players have to react to new information?” In the case of rolling a die to hit, you have zero time to respond, so in this case the “information horizon” would be right up in the player’s face. Alternatively, drawing cards to a public market or revealing new terrain via fog of war tends to lend the player a few turns / some time to respond to that new information before it affects the gamestate.
This concept is important because one of my guidelines for strategy game design is that, as I talk about in the video, if the information horizon is too close, the line of causality and the final outcome quickly starts being disassociated with that of the player’s performance—which is what we’re trying to measure in a strategy game, after all. If the information horizon is too far away, we get a “look-ahead contest” situation where it largely comes down to who calculated (solved) more of the available game state. This is mostly a brief review of things I’ve talked about the above linked articles/videos.
The new thing I want to suggest today is: Assuming a reasonable degree of goal feedback efficiency, we should strive for as little calculation as possible. To phrase it another way, in any game that’s good enough to be worth playing, you should try to minimize the amount of calculation that’s possible.
A reasonable degree of goal feedback efficiency
When we look at a game, “goal feedback efficiency” is a rough approximation that we can make that describes how accurate the end state of the game is with regards to player performance. A game with perfect goal feedback efficiency would give a win to the player who made stronger inputs 100% of the time. A game with good goal feedback efficiency would give a win to the player who made stronger inputs somewhere about 90% of the time.
Every game needs to have a pretty high degree of this, without exception. I’m not sure what the number exactly is, but I would say if it gets much lower than, say, 85-ish%, it starts becoming hard to “trust” a game. If you have less efficiency than that, it becomes hard to defend playing the game.
I would not play a 75% efficiency game. Why? Because a quarter of my matches are sending me false signals about my performance. That might not sound like too big a deal, but it becomes a very big deal when the player has no way of really knowing which matches are the false signals and which aren’t.
The classic answer to this problem is that figuring out which matches to believe and which to chalk up to randomness is part of the skill of the game. First, this strikes me as an attempt to make excuses for what exists, rather than an actual suggestion about what makes for good game design.
But beyond that, I don’t think that this is possible in an unsolved game. It’s hard for me to believe that a person could play a complex game, barely cling to enough understanding to pull off a win, and then also, on top of that, have enough additional systemic understanding to determine that this win was because of random effects and not their own agency. In other words: if you have a balanced game, players will be understanding the system just well enough to win or lose – they will be playing at their maximum capacity. So it’s unreasonable to expect players to be able to also interpret their win/loss as to whether it’s just based on randomness or not.
Ideally, games would have a 95+% efficiency rating, and I actually don’t think that that’s too hard to pull off. It doesn’t mean you can’t have some random variance; it just means that the random variance should be sufficiently input variance so that players can account for it, and to the extent that there is some output variance, they’re small enough in impact and there are enough of them so that they mostly average out. Hundreds of small (+-10%) random damage variance over the course of a match is probably OK, but a couple of critical card-draw failures throughout a match probably isn’t.
This is actually a pretty practical concern. Having a low efficiency rating means it will simply take the player too long to explore your system. In the finite number of hours they’re going to give your game, the amount of “effective depth” (depth the player can access) drops quickly after 95% and then plummets when you go much lower.
Of course, today’s game players who are used to playing stuff like Hearthstone will probably do it anyway, but for game designers who want to potentially someday make something better than Hearthstone, it is critical that we understand and internalize this idea.
…As little calculation as possible
So, if you’ve got this roughly 95% efficiency rating (which you should!), then we can ask the question: how much calculation should your game allow for? Or put another way: where should your information horizon be? Quick definitions:
Quickly, a couple of terms: Calculation, for the purposes of this article, means solving. It means literally following logical courses of action to their deterministically guaranteed outcomes. When one does “look-ahead” in games, they are typically doing calculation. Sifting through public, deterministic game states in Connect Four is a great example of calculation.
Analysis, on the other hand, is a word I use for the kind of “thinking” in games that doesn’t fall in that category. When you can’t calculate, you use a looser, heuristic estimation process, and I call that analysis.
So back to my claim:
Assuming a reasonable degree of goal feedback efficiency, we should strive for as little calculation as possible.
Obviously we can create a game with zero calculation – perhaps something like the card game War, or maybe (a single match of) Rock, Paper, Scissors. In these, we’ve brought the information horizon to “right up in your face” – once the other player has played Rock, you can’t do anything about that. But we’ve also destroyed our goal feedback efficiency. Wins have nothing to do with player performance.
The point is, you do need some degree of determinism in games; some “causal line” that goes from the player’s input and stretches out into the system to some extent. But by using input randomness smartly and carefully selecting the position of the information horizon, you can (and should) reduce the calculate-able (solvable) parts of your game down to a reasonable level.
This isn’t just a matter of “balancing” goal feedback efficiency and calculation. It’s much more like, goal feedback efficiency has a floor that it really just can’t go below (95, mayyyybe 90%) no matter what, whereas calculation is much more flexible.
This is because the downside to too much calculation is that the game is a little too solvable, but still totally skill based. In short, it’s a little bit too much like Chess. It’s kind of OK for games to lean into being a little bit Chess-like.
The downside to too little goal-feedback-efficient is that the game becomes indistinguishable from noise, and totally unplayable to anyone who’s alert to this kind of problem. Granted, there are a lot of people who will happily play this kind of game anyway, as so many popular games fall into this category these days, but my writing has never been about “game design guidelines that help you make games people won’t know better than to play”. My game design guidelines are about helping you make good games.
If you build a strong system, with a well-placed information horizon, this new guideline is going to be met somewhat naturally. But it’s another way to test a system you’re already working with and to understand the information horizon concept.
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For those who don’t know, David Sirlin has been working on Codex for about 10 years. I got the privilege seeing the game in person back in 2011 at Practice, but it has come a long, long way since then. Last week I got the Starter Set in the mail as a Kickstarter reward, and since I read the rules and played my first few games, I’ve been really excited about it.
On its face, Codex appears to be basically another entry in the two-player competitive “CCG” genre, along with games like Magic: The Gathering, Hearthstone, or Prismata. Neither Codex nor Prismata are technically “collectible” in the way that MtG is, but the basic concept of drawing hands of cards (in most games; not Prismata), playing soldiers who fight each other, and dealing damage to each other’s base is sort of the “basis” for all of these games.
This will not be a formal “review”; I won’t be talking about the components or balance or giving a “rating”; instead, I’ll just be talking about the game design and why I think it is fundamentally far superior to any other game of its kind, and possibly, to any other tabletop game out there.
You can read the rules for the game online here, but I’ll give a quick rundown for people who just want the basic gist.
It’s primarily a two-player game (there are 2v2 and FFA modes available as well). The objective is to reduce the health of your opponent’s base to zero (it starts at 20). For those who have played deckbuilder games such as Dominion or Sirlin’s own Puzzle Strike (in my view, the best deck-builder and one of the best games of all time), you’ll recognize the deck-building card drawing/re-shuffling mechanism here. You start with 10 cards, draw some each turn, and when the deck runs out you re-shuffle, all the while adding new cards to the discard pile which eventually shuffle back around and are drawn.
You play cards to the table, as in MtG or Hearthstone, and they have attack and defense values. They often have special rules on the cards which do a variety of things, from things like “haste” which allows the unity to attack the turn it’s played, to “stealth” which allows the unit to bypass the enemy’s defenses.
Speaking of defenses, there is a row of five slots called the Patrol Zone that you can play your cards to which designates the card as a “defender”. Read more about that here.
You build workers by discarding cards and placing them face down under your worker card, thereby “thin-decking” your deck.
You also have a “Codex”, a binder of all of the cards that you can use for this game. I’ll talk about this a bit more later, but basically think of it as like the bank of cards you can purchase from in Dominion. You add them to your discard pile (privately, face-down) and they eventually come back to your hand.
Finally, there’s a “tiers” system – you have T1, T2, and T3 “tech” buildings that you have to build before you can play units of that tech level.
Oh, and you have a Hero – up to 3 Heroes out at once, each of whom has their own abilities.
Beyond that, the game actually plays out a lot like how you would expect in a CCG. There are a lot more details to the rules of course, and I recommend reading the rulebook or watching a video about it (here’s Tom Vasel’s run-down), but I’m going to dive into why I think this game is so great now.
Not a CCG
So why is Codex so good? Let’s get the big easy thing out of the way: Codex is not collectible! That actually requires some clarification, though. Codex is more like an “LCG”, like Dominion; you purchase boxed sets of known, non-random items (like the Red and Green factions, for instance).
On moral and competitive levels this is vastly superior to the typical CCG style concept. Morally, it’s better, because you’re not compelling people to spend unknown amounts of money literally having to gamble to get the “full game”. Competitively it’s vastly superior because it means players are playing on a level playing field. Game design issues aside, I think we can all agree that it’s purely a good thing if two players of equal skill have an equal chance to win the game. That’s the case in Codex – all of the factions are balanced against all of the other factions, and you never are playing with an “incomplete” deck.
The LCG model isn’t perfect. There is still a temptation with this model for the designer to continually pump out expansion after expansion, and eventually there could be a similar “insane amount of content” existing for the game which causes all kinds of problems, from becoming oppressively hard to learn, to just being impossible to balance. But with that said, it’s probably the best trade-off in terms of being a good commercial product and being a good game at the same time.
Another thing I despise about CCGs is the “customizability” component – basically, it’s my problems with pre-game asymmetry in games, but gone completely amok. Well, I’m happy to report that in Codex, the level of customizability is really tamped down. As far as I understand it (and correct me if I’m wrong here), you basically select three “characters” (a hero plus their Codex) at the start of each game. Like I said in my asymmetry article, that still isn’t ideal for me, but it is a massive, massive improvement from the kind of crap you have to do in something like Hearthstone.
A Good Information Horizon
It’s really perfect that Prismatacame out before this, because Prismata, to me, represents a good step in the right direction for the genre, while falling short in one crucial aspect: it has no hidden information. As I talked about in Uncapped Look-Ahead and the Information Horizon, this means that the game is basically a raw calculation contest – who can look ahead more steps than the other guy. Further, entire trees of gameplay have already been mapped out for the game. In a sense, while it’s a great effort at improving on the MtG model, it’s too solvable.
Lunarch Studios’ answer to this is to put harsh timers on the game, forcing players to act really quickly. While this might have the appearance of working, the reality is that no matter how short the timer is, you still just need to out look-ahead the other guy in the time allotted.
Like I talked about in the article, for this reason, you don’t want games that have perfect information.
On the other hand, you also don’t want a situation like you have in Magic: The Gathering or Hearthstone, where highly random crap comes out at you, sometimes affecting you immediately, every single turn. (The children’s card game War, wherein players simply draw cards from a deck and compare who played the higher card, is useful to me as a demonstration of why this kind of stuff is a problem.) For a card game, Codex is insanely non-random!
Codex has, it seems to me, pretty much fallen within the “Goldilocks zone” of information horizons – not too much, and not too little. You know what the other player’s starting cards are, so what they could have in their hand is actually pretty predictable, especially early game. You know what tech level they are (tech buildings also cost 1 turn to finish building), so you know what they’re likely to have put in their deck from their Codex. Even after teching cards, it takes a turn or two for it to come through and come back around to their hand, and then, when they finally do play it, it has the classic “summoning sickness” (one of the few things I like about MtG).
Beyond the tech buildings, there are a number of other cues that players give each other in this game of what it is they might be teching – from how many workers they’re building, what they’re bringing out to the table, what they’re Patrolling with and in which spots, and even what they’re doing with their Hero.
So the only things that are hidden are “what the player has teched” (put into their discard pile from their Codex) and “what they drawn this turn” (which is like usually 3-5 cards out of a 10-15 card deck). It’s a pretty small amount of hidden information, but it might be just enough to stop the game from feeling like a big look-ahead contest.
A friend of mine said that Codex feels like Sirlin took a few lessons from Eurogames and applied them to the MtG style game. While those games can feel kind of like, “draw cards, play them, and whoever’s cards deal more damage wins” (kind of like a slightly more complicated War), Codex has structure.
The first thing I noticed was how the tech tiers system automatically makes this far better than Magic and Hearthstone. In those games, you can draw some late game card to your hand on Turn 1. You’re literally drawing cards all game out of huge deck of all of your cards, so you could be getting anything. But since Codex has the “tiers” system, it creates some order to how these cards are going to be entering into the game. This not only means you have more cards that you actually can do something with each turn, but it also makes choosing what cards to tech a lot easier. Looking at the Codex binder can be intimidating until you realize that most of this stuff literally isn’t available to you for the first bunch of turns.
I can’t stress enough how important that first thing is, though. The thing that SUCKS so much about card games is how you’ll often have a hand of like 5-7 cards, and like 3-4 of those are things you definitely shouldn’t or literally can not play. This really contributes to a feeling of just “riding the randomness” in those games. Being able to play basically everything you ever draw is so, so good in comparison.
Another “structural” thing is the Patrol Zone. This feels a lot like something out of a worker selection Eurogame or something. There are five slots that you can place a non-exhausted unit or hero into at the end of your turn. Units in those slots firstly all get the “taunt” buff (they have to be killed before anything else can be targeted). This alone means that you have to choose whether your units are attackers or defenders, which gives the actual “game play space” way more dimension than exists with other games.
On top of that though, each of the Patrol Zone’s slots gives you a different bonus. Some of them make your unit stronger in different ways. One allows you to draw a card when the unit is killed, one allows you to gain 1 gold when the unit is killed, and one forces the other player to pay 1 gold in order to target it with anything. These all are great uses of the play space to both function as a sort of worker placement thing while also meaning something in terms of the damage-volleying interactions.
Finally, I *love* how card drawing is done in this game. Here’s the rules: at the end of your turn, you discard the cards in your hand. Then, you draw that same number of cards again, plus two, at a maximum of 5. These rules have a lot of really great ramifications on the system. For one thing, it means that there is a meaningful card economy – spending a bunch of cards on one turn has ramifications that you can’t recover from for awhile. (So far, I haven’t seen any ridiculous “draw 3 cards” spells; I imagine if those exist they would be high tech spells that are really costly to use and not randomly drawn in this game.)
But the even cooler thing about it is that it changes the “tempo” of your deck-building cycling speed. If you’re drawing 5 cards a turn, that means you’re digging through your deck quickly, which is crucial for getting that Tier 3 tech card you put in your deck to loop back around to your hand.
Finally, having a max of 5 cards is fantastic. I can’t stand getting a glut of 7-10 cards in my hand in other card games – it’s just too much. 5 cards you can always use – that sounds great. I’ve never seen a game that did card drawing as well as Codex.
I haven’t played a ton of matches yet, and I’ve played with just the Starter set. While I have read a lot of the other cards in the game online, I haven’t played with most of them yet, so maybe the experience changes dramatically for the worse with all of the expansion content (although I doubt it).
Probably the biggest concern I have is that this is still based on the MtG model of bringing out units that have hitpoints and it’s all ultimately about actor removal and reducing hit points. Another way to phrase it is that Codex, like Magic, seems to not have a clear core mechanism. It comes down to scooting resources around on a big spreadsheet and dealing attacks, like Magic.
As I mentioned, it would concern me if the game expanded too much, although actually Sirlin has a pretty good track record with this. Yomi and Puzzle Strike have 20 characters each, which seems like a reasonable number of characters to have. I guess I would worry though if this game takes off (which it should) that there would be a temptation to bloat it too much.
*I think it’s reasonable to ask: hey Keith, how come if you’re all about these clockwork systems, your two favorite games don’t really qualify as clockwork games? I would say that these games both take something that fundamentally “works” and then nudge it in the direction of the ideal I set out in my books and articles. If anything, the lesson from these games with regards to the Clockwork model is similar to what I’ve been talking about recently on my podcast: start with what people already understand, and nudge it in the good direction. The Clockwork map serves as a compass for what that direction is.
Tiny concern; not so much for me, but for others. I’m not sure the theme will resonate with people. I personally don’t like the theme, but I also could give two shits about what the theme is if the gameplay is good. Living in today’s gaming landscape and complaining about a game with good gameplay because of its theme is like dying of thirst in a desert and dumping out a full canteen of water you find because you don’t like its shape.
My last concern is that it’s a physical game, which hampers the developers’ ability to patch the game for balance and other improvements. I love what Riot does with League, dramatically changing whole systems for the better every year, but that kind of stuff is just not possible with a card game. Sirlin actually has come under fire many times in the past for issuing 2nd and 3rd editions for his past games, and I hope (hope hope) that he continues to ignore those complaints. If he had listened to those, we’d never have gotten Puzzle Strike 3rd Edition, which is vastly, vastly better than the previous editions. I hope that we get to see Codex 3rd edition, too!
In short: Codex, far more than Magic or Hearthstone, feels designed. It feels structured and organized in a way that makes sense. It does not feel like “just put a bunch of cards with numbers on them in a deck and players will figure out how to make it fun”. It feels like the designer already did that work for us. We just have to try to do our best, and the game will be not-degenerate and interesting.
For me, I am so excited to have a game that I can get excited about. That doesn’t happen often for me and it couldn’t have come at a better time. I may post a follow-up to this article at some point once I’ve played the game more, but even if in a year my opinion completely reverses somehow, I won’t regret having dove into this game headfirst.
Actually, even you knew nothing about what Codex was, I would still say people should support it and investigate it thoroughly. That’s because this is a game made by one of the world’s most designer-y game designers, David Sirlin. Not only that, but he worked on it for ten years. As someone who feels crazy for having worked on a game for six years, I understand what kind of an investment this is. People don’t do that kind of stuff unless they seriously care about their game and whether it’s good.
This game is so fundamentally better than Magic or Hearthstone that it would seriously depress me if it doesn’t do at least half as well as they have when all is said and done. If you’re interested in game design at all, or if you like games like these, you really really ought to check out Codex as soon as you can.
For a bit more on this game, check out Sirlin’s articles on the design of Codexhere.