So... Ludum Dare 30...

In approximately 9 and a half hours at the time of writing this sentence, I am going to be taking part in Ludum Dare #30 , a 48 hour game developement competition. I only know vaguely what themes are going to be presented (as the final vote is tallied pretty darn close to the start time), and for those who don't know, the only assets you're able to create beforehand are code snippets, which have to be approved beforehand. Everything else is done in the 48 hours, code, assets... everything.

So let's talk about prepping. Even though it's a really good idea to have some code snippets handy to save you time, I'm not doing this, because, beyond the fact that it will involve pixels, I don't want to prejudice myself with code snippets specifically for a platformer, or a tile-based RPG thing, or... You get the picture. I also know one of my biggest problems here is going to be organisation, so I didn't want to suffer for that early by having to waste time hunting through code snippets.

No, most of my prepping right now is psychological. I've tidied up the flat a bit, and am listening to various tunes (including the modern Lost In Space theme by Apollo 440... That's a really peppy piece.)

As far as tools, right now, I'm pretty determined to use Gamemaker Studio. No piece of kit is without flaw, but this'll hopefully save me some time. Apart from that, I have Paint.NET (for blog stuff, as opposed to dev stuff, but it's workable for asset stuff), GraphicsGale Free (for pretty pixels), LMMS (for music, if I end up having time for that), Audacity (for voice work, should the game warrant it), and Notepad++ (because I like writing shit down.)

Finally, there's me. I know a little bit of coding, am okay at assets, am okay at music, and do voice things for shits and giggles. I am a jack-of-all-trades. Hence why I'm not in it to win it, but to see what needs working on with my practices under pressure.

One other piece of psychological buffing I've done, silly as it sounds...

...That's right. Monitor JuJu.

A Realisation, And A Bridge Burned: Horizon

It's been a year since I last officially reviewed (there's your realisation), and only now do I feel okay with venting my spleen about one of the three games that burned me from reviewing for such a long time (the other two were Record of Agarest War and the Inner World.) Let's talk about Horizon. Another realisation: This is probably burning bridges with some folks. I'll have to live with that, even if they already know what I say.

Horizon is, in the words of LEO Interactive, "inspired by" the Master of Orion games.

No. "Inspired by" is a phrase that belongs to things like GalCiv, Endless Space, and many other 4Xs that followed in their great-grandpappy's footsteps in some fashion or other. "Inspired by" belongs to games that innovate, that change things up in a useful fashion.

Now, before we continue, let's play a game. I'm going to post a few screenshots, and you get to play "How similar is that?"

That one's Horizon. Now for MoO 2.

Now for Horizon again.

Back to MoO 2

Horizon...

MoO 2...

Keep in mind, I could keep this shit up for nearly every UI element in the game. The research screen: Almost identical. The planet screen? Same idea, same problems. The diplomacy screens? Nigh identical. So what, in the end, was actually different?

Well, remember how Master of Orion was slowish? Horizon is slow-er. It'll be a good while before you colonise, and as for a full game? I never finished, because I didn't want to spend three days on a single game. I especially didn't want to do it in "Story mode", which, yes, would have added some nice backstory on the many races and the universe, but would have involved me in a disadvantaged start (less tech, less resources, less systems), where the AI players inevitably found me before I could communicate with them, which led to another quirk of this game.

The AI defaults to a neutral state, and, while they modelled racial diplomacy alright (some races respond better to an aggressive approach, others passive, some like bribes, others won't touch them, etc), I often didn't have a chance in story mode. You see, the longer you know an alien species, without being able to communicate, the more they come to hate you. Oh, you have to be in communication range to communicate, obviously, and your signal strength depends on your tech level. Everyone you meet will eventually declare war on you. The missions, while a potentially interesting addition, are mostly bland and forgettable... Go kill these guys here, conquer this here, research this, loot this... It all adds up to a big, frustrating mess. The techs don't really differentiate much, and the key to winning the game, even now, is building up tourism and trade, and rush-buying. Oh, let's not forget surviving long enough to make these strategies work. Even in the non-story mode of the game, you're going to find people hate you before they even get to know you.

And if you were to purchase this game? That would be £23 you've, essentially, wasted. For that, you could have played Endless Space, Master of Orion 1 and 2, and possibly with enough left over to get one of the older GalCiv games. And any one of those would, awkwardly, be a superior experience.

I'm only sad I waited a year to say that even once.

Game Things That Make Me Rage: Yes, It's "Shallow." So What?

I was co-commentating a stream of an early access game called Chroma Squad (still in Alpha) yesterday, and one comment made me a very thoughtful person indeed. "The gameplay is quite shallow".

The Game In Question.

Let's examine this with Chroma Squad as a specific example, shall we? The combat, as it stands, does indeed start off fairly simple, without a whole ton of apparent depth. You have five guys who are part of a Sentai studio, Sentai being a term for a specific genre of superhero shows from Japan. They each get two actions a turn, while enemies generally get one unless they can also attack or use a special ability. Those two actions generally consist of a move, followed by one of the following:

• Move some more.
• Hit someone.
• Use a special ability (which often involves hitting someone, but with a weapon.) We'll discuss this more in a bit.
• TEAMWORK.

That last one is kind of important, because it adds a layer of complexity to the game. See, your normal attacks are pretty damn wimpy. Yes, you hit multiple times, but overall, your average starting dude does around 50 of 90 damage to a mook on an attack. Mileage, obviously, may vary. But with the power of TEAMWORK, you can either add some beef to someone else's attack, allow other people to share your special ability (so long as everyone who supports is touching each other), or give them a little movement boost.

Near the end of a fight from the original Demo.

So, by my count, we have basic mechanics, plus a mechanic that can then change other mechanics. But wait, there's more! See, because Sentai episodes often start with the heroes in their everyday garb, instead of being ULTRA-TEAM or whatever, our characters start that way too, nearly every "Episode". And once they hit a certain number of Fans, they can CHROMATISE (or whatever you've chosen to call it.) What does that do?

First off, it relocates all party members to a certain position (don't ask me how it's worked out, I haven't fully checked, and it's probably subject to change), and it fully heals the party as they're given a second wind by their magical powers. It also boosts their damage on hitting folks, and allows them to use their Special Abilities.

I think we've hit another level of tactical choice here. Because when you Chromatise is an important tactical consideration. On the one hand, you can thin out mooks just fine by using Teamwork, and you can, if you're canny, even damage bosses that way. But you can only get that sweet, sweet full heal once per Episode, and, to make the choice harder, you can't use some of your best attacks (including the Finishing Move) until you've done it. Some Episodes, for extra challenge, don't let you Chromatise at all.

This is already sounding above the depth level for your average Western RPG focused on combat, where, yes, you have more options to start with (Do I use Magic Missile, or Paralyzing Ray, or [goes on for half a minute]...?), but they amount to, in essence, much the same things (Do I do ranged damage? Do I do melee damage? Do I play Rock-Paper-Scissors with Elemental damage?). It even cuts down on options in the game that are objectively less useful than their counterparts with other party members (DnD Psionics, I'm looking at you!)

Remember folks, more choices doesn't necessarily mean extra depth. It's terribly easy to confuse the two, as games have shown in the past. But we then come to a very important question: Even if it were shallow, would it be badly designed?

For the answer to that, let's look at what it's aiming for. Firstly, it's aiming for being fun, as games often do. This is a largely subjective thing, and so we're going to largely skip it. I personally find it fun. Secondly, it's aiming to simulate (to a limited extent) the genre of TV it's based on. So I'll sum up what characterises Sentai, and we'll judge based on that whether it succeeds.

Various incarnations of Kamen Rider. Budget for each costume? Probably around £150, if that.

Sentai Shows Are Often Low Budget

Anyone who's seen Power Rangers has seen one of the higher budget Sentai Shows produced. Especially when they got into movie territory. But most Sentai Shows are not like that. Take a look at Ultraman, or early Kamen Rider. They're low budget as hell. Hell, go look up the Sentai version of Spider-Man, a thing that exists, and both amuses and horrifies me as a Spidey fan.

In Chroma Squad, you start with a budget of $1000. Your first season is mostly filmed on the street, or in warehouses, your costumes are made of buckets, cloth, and hope, and, no joke, one of the studio "upgrades" you can buy is... an SD camera. SD, as in "Standard Definition for the modern day."

There's also a mechanic for recycling your old stuff to craft new stuff, with no guarantee you'll get anything useful out of your old costumes or weapons. And most of your "filler" episodes (which you're contractually obligated to record) won't make you more than around $50. At best.

Yeah, I think it nailed the feel of a low budget studio. And that's without going into the jokes on the subject, like Cardboard Boxer or the girl who doesn't get dialogue, because she wasn't paid for that. That's actually a really common thing in film extra work, as an aside: Talking roles pay more.

Sentai Shows Are Fuelled By Their Fandom

It sounds obvious, but when you factor in that Sentai Shows are often recorded on a stupidly low budget, every fan who might be able to pay you a favour counts, especially in the early days... Especially since those favours might be material for the show, such as access to filming venues. And, in Chroma Squad, your fans count in multiple ways. You can't Chromatise without pleasing fans. You can't earn diddly if you disappoint your fans, and there are emails you'll get from fans that may unlock better gear or certain episodes down the line.

Again, this nails it, as Sentai groups often do live performances, and, like wrestling, it's the Call to the audience that determines what happens.

Amazingly, I couldn't find some cool flips. But trust me, Sentai has them in SPADES.

Sentai Fights Are Flashy, And Often Formulaic

Game design wise, this one seems like a gimme: Strategic RPGs have fixed fights with scripted behaviour that you're meant to exploit to win. But let's look at the formula a little for a standard fight.

• Mooks ambush our heroes.
• Fight ensues, and there's a lot of flipping around, positioning, and double-teaming.
• The heroes discover that there's Too Many, and decide to POWER UP!
• Mooks (and even the Big Bad) stand back and let this happen (generally, there are exceptions)
• ASSKICKING TIME.

It's important to note that a Big Bad rarely enters the fray while his mooks are still standing, and if they do, the heroes generally only defend themselves until it's time to power up.

This formula is heavily encouraged in the first Episode, with Fan Requirements. These are essentially little challenges that get you more Fans (and thus more money, gear, and little things you need to craft shit), and, in this case, we have certain challenges for the three Acts of the first Episode (I've been capitalising these, by the way, because they're essentially different names for, in game-design parlance, Levels.)

First act, you have to do three "Team Acrobatics" (use Teamwork to move people further), and all be above 50% health by the end of the fight. So there's your flipping, and the impression that the Mooks are just... Well, Mooks.

The Big Bad of the Season reveals himself (and he is suitably silly), and the Second Act begins. Here, we have to beat four Mooks in one turn, and beat the last with a Finishing Move. Suitably dramatic, but it's important to note two things here: Firstly, the first requirement isn't possible without taking some form of beating, and secondly, the optimal strategy here is to go for one of the corners, lure four guys in, get them down to half health or less, smack 'em down, and the last guy gets lured into the Finisher.

This is often what happens in a Sentai fight.

Finally, we have the Third Act. Cardboard Boxer has entered the scene, surrounded by mooks. But if we want the full Fan Appeal, we have to beat CB with a Finisher, and we mustn't attack him until all the Mooks are gone. Again, it works with the theme, and proves challenging, because Cardboard Boxer isn't restrained by your petty heroic rules, and he hits like a bag of lead bricks.

Cardboard Boxer. In all his, er... Glory. Yes, Glory.

From the get go, it's there.

So now we come to the points (for lo, there are multiple) of this post: Firstly, choices do not equal depth, and just because you don't see the depth, doesn't mean it isn't there. More importantly, though, people conflate depth or choices with Good Game Design, and that just isn't true, because choices can balloon out of control and make the game messy, and layers of depth, as we've noticed, don't matter a jot if people don't notice.

No, it's far more important that you do what you set out to do, and keep it fun. Clickr isn't a game with the depth of Age of Wonders 3, but I enjoy both equally, because they're designed around their main themes and mechanics. So far, Chroma Squad is doing what it set out to do. It's by no means fully balanced yet, or easy enough for the newbie to get it on their first try (Speaking of: PUT YOUR TUTORIAL BACK IN, BEHOLD STUDIOS, REGARDS, A. GAMER), but, at least so far, it looks to be tightly designed around its theme, and that puts it in my Good Books for now.

The Culture of Fear (Not Just American)

Now, way back in 1999, there was a guy called Barry Glassner, who wrote a book called The Culture of Fear. It was all about scaremongering in american media, and how it had a knock-on effect of drawing attention away from larger threats (online pedophilia coverage leading to ignoring domestic abuse, that sort of thing.) But, to me, the term "Culture of Fear" doesn't just cover the media. It covers a much greater cultural problem.

We are taught to fear the strange, the different. We are often conditioned to distrust a friendly gesture, because it might have strings attached to it. This, as you might expect, leads to other problems: Homophobia, Islamophobia, Russophobia, Gyno- and Androphobia... The list goes on... And on... And on. Because while we are taught to fear the stranger, our guidance on which strangers to fear doesn't just depend on our teachers, or our authority figures (each with their own flaws and possible prejudices), but on our experiences. Let's use yours truly as an example.

I'm not ashamed to say that I instinctively dislike loud people, people who are in physically demanding professions, and women who show no obvious intellectual leanings, and this is for two reasons. Firstly, knowing that instinct is there means being able to deal with it. I'm sure there are some swole friends and family members who are somewhat surprised to learn this. Secondly, I know where it comes from (bad experiences, at least some of which were at least partially my fault, in school, school, and college, respectively.) I could babble on for hours about all the little tics and prejudices I've built up as a relatively self aware man, but I won't, because it would be boring. But let's briefly go into another reason why I could be saying that, as another example.

"Man up", "Be strong", "Grow a pair." All of these things, or some variation thereof, will be quite familiar to people discussing the negative side of their feelings. But they'll also be mentioned when, say, you like a girl, and don't feel confident enough to ask her out. It's meant as a confidence booster, in many cases. But it doesn't always work out that way. Sometimes, it's construed that feelings are a sign of weakness. I'll occasionally hear such things from my window (overlooking the main road) in both constructive and destructive contexts. But there is a general theme here: Feelings Bad, Face Good.

Actually, that's one of the more interesting things I've taken away from my English course: The concept of Face. Face (to any little green men reading this) is the concept that our social worth is presented by the image we present to the world. But the qualitative value we give to Face depends entirely on the subculture we're presenting to. For example, in Retail/Corporate culture, this visually means a very specific sort of image (Longer hair only on women, clean shaven, dressed in uniform, preferably smartly), and following the rules of the store and culture, sometimes to your own detriment (Always treat a customer with respect, Look happy/pleasant, even when you're not feeling it, that sort of thing). Obviously, measures are taken to minimise harm to your mental and physical well being (You have a certain amount of paid "Sick days", holiday, etc, counselling is sometimes available)

But certain values of Face hold across subcultures, and indeed subcultures: Do not confide in strangers, do not burden others with your woes (both because you will make them feel worse, and because you are giving someone a free pass to your weaknesses), do not sing in buses (for lo, it annoys others, especially if you can't actually sing in tune)... The list goes on. These are, as I'm sure will be appreciated, for people's protection, but, partly due to the media aspect of the Culture of Fear, and partly due to humankind's general lack of capability with "soft" rules like this (We humans don't do exceptions to rules well), people often err on the side of caution (a common human phrase) to their own detriment.

So now we come to what brought this whole ham-handed discussion of a very big (and very sensitive) subject: I'm a friendly guy, but I'm the first to admit I'm not good with this whole "socialising" thing... Mainly the communication end of things (Yes, I know, there are peeps who think I'm "witty", "a laugh", and "smart", but like the rest of you, I'm dumb as well as smart, and just as likely to put my foot in my mouth or depress folks as anyone else... Good examples being me turning my lunch into charcoal briquettes today, and this blog post). So it mystifies me when I make a gesture I see as friendly, and it's misinterpreted as "creepy" (this has happened quite a few times), or is ignored. Sometimes, after the fact, there is a perfectly logical explanation afterwards of why this was a dumb or creepy thing to do, and this always elicits a hefty apology from me, but many times, I make simple, friendly gestures, and they're either rebuffed harshly, ignored, or people look at me as if I've grown a second head.

I haven't, as an aside, but not for want of trying. A second head would rock. Anyways, in closing, I want to reassure people: Yes, there are bad people, but most folks are just trying to get through their lives, and some of us just wanna be helpful. These helpful people are, again, mostly not schmucks, or out for something (except maybe a new friend), and even the not-so-helpful people are mostly okay, with roughly the same amount of little neuroses, tics, and prejudices as the next person.

Here's a really good example of a good sentiment tainted by cultural prejudice: The world would be a cooler place if people understood each other. "Isn't that just corny, LOL?!?"

Doesn't make it any less true. Anyways, if you thought this was whiny, welcome to the Human Race. We kinda suck, but you're a part of it too, and you can make it better.

Why I'm Not Fishguard's Biggest Fan.

This is an incredibly difficult subject to make clear to people, so forgive me if it seems like I'm spitballing, but Fishguard, while scenically beautiful, with live music, some good theatre, and lovely baked goods, is, like much of Pembrokeshire, decidedly... Cliquey. I write this, because more and more, I'm seeing people who have moved to good ol' Pembs, and had an extremely hard time getting to know people... And it's not just a case of "I don't think it would be cool to just go up and say 'Hi!' " It's a lot more pervasive than that, more subtle, and, in its own way, quite, quite scummy.

Yes... Welcome...

Part of it, it must be said, is a problem endemic among many modern nations: We are educated to fear strangers. This, in and of itself, introduces some awkward mental patterns that people can fall into (and reinforce with their children). My favourite example of this is that if you have shoulder length or longer, fairly straight hair, and a beard of some sort, you are automatically "Jesus" ... And no, despite what TV or the internet may tell you, that isn't restricted to young oxygen-thieves. But prejudice is a common thing, and while there is a fairish amount of that in Pembs, it's at once both a lot more subtle, and a lot more pervasive than that. There is a sort of stagnancy in Pembrokeshire that permeates every aspect of life, and if you don't fit with that pattern, then you are subtly excluded. I'll try to explain it as best I can.

Like many other places in the world, Pembrokeshire has many little subcultures, not all of them in a form you'd recognise. Some of them are only tied as a group by things others would consider quite minor (Hating Pembrokeshire because "There's nothing to do" counts... And that particular group irks me most of all. We'll see why that's amusing in a minute). You have at least one subculture among builders. You've got various flavours of goth, emo, scene, punk, and chav. Pembrokeshire doesn't lack in variety for subcultures (and yes, I'm fully aware that in some cases, I'm using subculture a little erroneously. But we'll get back to why I've used it for builders and the like as well as musical preferences and boy-racing). Before I go back to Pembrokeshire, though, let's briefly mention three places I either lived, or frequented quite often: Swansea, Cardiff, and Bradford.

Swansea. Not without its problems, but...

In all three of those cities, you have not just multiple subcultures, but multiple cultures. Bradford, especially, boasts Polish, German, Hindu, Sikh, Chinese... A lot of cultures. And they mix, although imperfectly. The point is, they do mix somewhat. Rockers may not always talk to Chavs or Ravers, but Rockers, Goths, and Metalheads (to use a few examples) mostly get along just fine. And that web of subcultures means more safe spaces for folks.

In Pembrokeshire... The best way I can say it is that they react more. A few years ago now (probably as many as five or six), there was a state of near warfare (fights, beatings, lots of harsh language thrown around) between... Emo kids and Goth kids. "Big whoop," I hear you say "Those two subcultures take the piss out of each other a lot."

Yes, this is true, but it doesn't often escalate to violence. This one did, and lasted around two or three months. It sounds almost paranoid to say it, but if you don't fit into a neat little box in Pembs, most people will put you in one, and if it's one they don't like? You'll get shit for years. And it can be anything different. I draw on the rare occasions I'm out drinking. It slows down my drinking, lets me chill out, and sometimes, people give me practice without the awkwardness of asking by the virtue of people just coming up and saying "Oooh, draw me!" (I'm not good at drawing from life, but believe me, I welcome the practice so long as you don't judge.)

You can tell I'm there, by the way. Just follow the occasional stares to the bit where, if it's nearly empty, next to nobody goes near unless they're being drawn, and if it's packed, where very few people are standing. Why do I mention this in particular? Because Pembrokeshire quite naturally attracts all sorts of artistic types, by virtue of its lovely coastlines (There's a few examples in the blog already, and I'll probably post more over time)... So it's rather odd to me. Then again, you'll find our local galleries very quiet places 90% of the time, for some reason. If it were isolated to just that, I'd be fine... But it happens often, and is largely unrestricted by age, gender, or what I happen to be doing at the time.

Like I said, Fishguard is *scenically* quite nice...

There's also this negativity, which I sometimes agree with, but for different reasons. Here's an exchange I couldn't help but overhear (Main road, Saturday... I'm sure you understand.)

"I FUCKING HATE FISHGUARD!"
"WELL, WHY DON'T YOU FUCKING LEAVE?!?"
"BECAUSE I CAN'T FUCKING AFFORD TO!!"

On the one hand, I perfectly agree with the sentiment. Pembrokeshire's not a wealthy place by any means, especially with the fact that it mostly relies on the tourist trade (not a consistent source of income at the best of times), and the fact that we're slowly trying to come out of a recession right now (emphasis on trying... Not succeeding.) On the other, though, there is little sense of co-operation. A good past example of that would be The Globe Inn under its previous management. They had live music of many varieties, and for a while, it was good. It was, after all, a natural lodestone for people, and music has this effect of sorting who comes when (not totally, but enough that you're always guaranteed someone to talk to!)

Alas, it was not to last, as a series of nearby folks moved in, complained about the noise (the sort of thing you'd think a seller would mention), and... Moved out almost as soon as the complaints were processed. So the houseowners came and went, but none of the complaints were retracted, and eventually, the place lost its live music license. Goodbye, pretty much the main source of rock, blues, and other stuff that isn't either folk or jazz (which is what you'll mostly find in Fishguard unless Ffwrn has someone booked... Ffwrn is, as an aside, a wonderful place. The Globe is also a wonderful place, but alas, more for great cooking and atmosphere than live music and a pool-table.)

There's more examples, I'd suppose, but it's one of those things you genuinely wouldn't believe until you encountered it. And it's one of those things that doesn't help with the depression, either. Suffice to say, even though I'm sure there will be people who will find issue with one example or another, next to nobody seems to disagree when I say "Pembrokeshire is terribly cliquey, isn't it?"

Games From The Summer Sale Shenanigans Part 1: Talisman Digital

Goons are lovely people, except when they're not. Luckily, one of them is rather consistently cool, and just gave me and some fellow Goonsires copies of Talisman: Digital Edition, because we're all tabletop geeks and thought it would be a good idea.

It has been, and it hasn't... Which is going to be a phrase you're going to see, in one form or another, a lot. Talisman's like that. It was originally a boardgame, created in roughly 1983, and had shitloads of expansion packs, some of which were rather silly (Timeline, for example, added Space Marines... And this, I am told, instantly makes it the best expansion.) Like many games of the period, it's basically a race game where you and the dark gods of dice attempt to dick each other as you rush for the Crown of Command (or the Frost Witch, or the Lich-King, or whatever the hell objective your addon had in store for you.) There were lots of characters, some pretty cool artwork, and if you can find any copy of a recent-ish edition, you'll have great fun.

An awesome piece of artwork. Shame it's only Strength 3.

The Digital Edition, by contrast, appears to use 4th Revised Edition rules, has two and a bit expansions (paid DLC, naturally), and a Random Number God that wants to cripple you, and then destroy everything you've ever loved while you watch. Here's a good example: The Enchantress. Technically, there is only a 50/50 chance that something bad will happen to you, only a 1 in 6 chance of being turned into a toad, and if you have Fate Points, you can make a reroll. Sounds fair, doesn't it?

What this actually translates to is a 50/50 chance of you getting Toaded, and a 25% chance, on a reroll, that you will still get Toaded. The netcode's also a little wonky. That's "A little" as in "We have given up playing with all but the Router Optimisation Illuminati". But, in case this all sounds too negative, let's talk about what's awesome, what's broken, and what's irritating.

Pure awesome is the sheer variety of classes. Want to play a Troll that sucks at fighting Monks and Ghosts, but beats the crap out of Dragons from the get go? Want to play a guy who can pick whether he's Good, Evil, or Neutral (with benefits and drawbacks for each) any time he wants? Or maybe someone physicallly and magically average, who can steal one item every time he lands on either a market or another player. That's just three classes. Out of something like 30, with more on the way. Even better, due to to events, shrines, items, and monsters, your beginning class is only a guideline. One of my favourite wins was with a Monk who had 12 Strength and only 8 magic by the time he won.

The Dwarf. Surprisingly not as powerful as you'd think.

Of course, some classes are a tadge annoying, to the point they're banned in our MP games. The biggest offender here is the Prophetess. Now imagine, if you will, a character who can take anything up to ten seconds thinking about whether she's going to discard an Event in favour of another one. She can also waste time chain-casting spells (we'll get into spellcasting in a minute), because she can never run out of spells. Luckily, she's easily killed. Unfortunately, she also knows what your spells are too.

The magic system, sadly, is irritating, but I can't actually think of a better system. Many spells have to be cast at the right point of someone's turn, and while you do get between 3 and 5 seconds to cast said spell, this involves:

• Clicking your cards icon (pauses the game, but you can easily misclick)
• Clicking the spell.
• Clicking the spell again.
• Clicking the "I want to cast this/save it for the next time it triggers" button (a misclick here will fuck you over.)
• Waiting 3-5 seconds for someone to maybe cast Counterspell.
• Waiting for any rolls that may occur.
• If the person casting is a Prophetess (or a Wizard), it's entirely possible this whole process will start all over again.

You can queue a spell, but in many cases, this is exactly the wrong thing to do. Cases in point are Immobilise (has to be cast on the person's turn before they move... You can totally immobilise yourself if you forget), and Preservation (triggers the next time anyone is injured. This includes monsters.)

This can totally happen in your game. If even one of these is replaced by a Doppelganger, you're fully justified in ragequitting.

But, regardless of all this, it's pretty damn fun, and, while the base game is £11 (with a Season Pass for DLC costing a fair bit more), even the base game has a lot of potential for hilarity. Also swearing. Before I go, though, a word of warning: Do not confuse this with Talisman Prologue, from the same company. Talisman Prologue is single player with no AI, achievements, and is basically an extended tutorial which you have to pay for.

Also, as a complete aside, the most common trash-talk I've been hearing are the following phrases:

• "I'll [fight/stab/beat] you at PAX IRL!"
• "Come at me, Nerd!"
• "GET TOADED, SON!!!"
• "ONE, ONE, ONE, ONE, ONE!!!!"

Did I mention competitive play with understanding friends is awesome?

A Lovely Day Part 3: The Bit That Was Only Sort Of Lovely.

Last we left off, I had taken what would turn out to be a decision I should have known was unwise. I should have known it was unwise because I have previously found it to be unwise. But I did it anyway, because it has been a while since I have been exploring these little phenomena.

What phenomena, you ask? Well, let's start with Coastal Paths. Pembrokeshire is very proud of its Coastal Paths. They're really really long (in part, due to the nature of Wales, being an incredibly... crinkly place), they're very pretty...

...And they're slightly less well maintained than my vegetable intake. This rivals the amount of attention that is paid to our roads, but more on that (and a phenomenon peculiar to rural areas like Pembrokeshire) when we get there.

This is your first inkling that not all is right with the world: Pembrokeshire is a place full of fae folk. Fae folks are bastards, and not in the pleasant and genial way of your current host, who will only lightly torture you before leaving you in an easily escapable and highly implausible death trap. Fae love this sort of fucking tunnel tree... thing, and it's decidedly unsafe. But funnily enough, not as unsafe as certain other portions of our lovely Coastal Paths. If safety (from supernatural creatures that many don't believe exist, but I know, I KNOW - coff) was the only problem, that would be fine...

But it's not.

What a lovely field, eh? But there are two things that are missing here. One of them is anything but the vaguest pointer as to where you should be going (that arrow is your only clue in most fields. The other is that there is a growing crop here, and there is no sign on this gate (the more commonly traversed direction being away from Fishguard) that politely says "Stick to the clearly worn and trampled bit, so that Farmer Dai will not fucking have you if he catches you, so help me, Duw you fucked 10% of my production with your careless ways, and you will not walk for six months now, butty boy!"

You'd be amazed how many people don't get this basic concept, so you'd think they'd be more careful about putting signs up. Farmer Dai is not to be messed with, and not for nothing do we call one of our national agricultural groups "The MAFFia"

But, to be fair, the coastal path is filled with two things, and you can occasionally see one other thing. Let's talk about the two things, because the one thing is basically what any sane and loving couple will do in a field when they don't think there's a remote chance of any discovery and weather permits.

- Beautiful landscapes, showing off the fascinating geology and agricultural richness of the region (Well, okay, maybe not that last bit)
- More hidden coves (and equally hidden and arduous ways to get to them, in many cases) than you can shake a stick at.

Case in point. Note: It's your own damn fault if you trip and fall down this one.

The Coastal Paths are both lovely and dangerous, and it is advised to travel them in only conditions not described as "torrential rain", "your usual pitch black Pembrokeshire night", or "fuck me, it's a bit foggy, isn't it?" I'd give you a really good example of being easy to get lost, but I'll just describe it.

It's a field. There are no signposts, the grass has grown, and only whoever tramped past today will have left any clue which way to go. Don't worry, you'll get where you're meant to eventually, but odds are you'll have traversed the whole field any which way you went.

So yeah, I had real fun with the paths, which, by the way, only put those wooden stair things you saw last post on muddy slopes in the path when the stars align, and some horrible accident tangentially related appears in the local papers. And they put them only in the place where that thing wot was somewhat distressing happened.

In any case, my shoelace broke (poor things weren't strong enough for my boots), I got lost along coastal paths, randomly came across a pair of lovers canoodling (as was implied... And lo, both parties were duly both distressed and amused), and finally came to a choice... Do I continue along the Coastal Path, or do I take the possibly safer option of a road?

Fucking right I took the road. And, while not a worse idea than taking the Path in the first place, it allows me to talk about another wonderful artefact of Pembrokeshire... RoadSpace.

See, Roads in Pembrokeshire are special, nay, magical. Behind me, in this photo, is more road. That way eventually leads to a single farmhouse, with anything up to 10 people (but more likely less than 5) living there. So you'd imagine there's not a whole lot of traffic. But it doesn't work like that. You can guarantee that either you will be completely unbothered for your journey, or that at least 10 cars will come hurtling down what Pembrokeshire would call a B-Road, maybe a C-Road (no longer an official designation, afaik). Not tractors, not milk trucks or gas trucks or any of a number of other things a farmhouse might need to have truck with... Cars. And, if asked, over half of these people would not have a fucking clue what's at the other end. Luckily, I had the first option.

But RoadSpace isn't the roads themselves... Oh no. RoadSpace is the weird things that happen to Space and Time when you're on these little roads. Which Pembrokeshire is full of, by the way. Time moves differently in RoadSpace, and what may seem like a ten minute walk (because the scenery is alright on either side, it's just the road that looks a bit shit... always with pebbles and grass in the middle, for no discernible reason beyond the ravages of time) is actually forty minutes of walking... half a mile. As the crow flies. I've said it before, and it bears repeating, but Wales is crinkly. But it's subtly crinkly.

In any case, after spending about thirty minutes RoadSpace time, I finally get to the main A road between Cardigan (capital of Ceredigion County) and Haverfordwest (capital of Pembrokeshire County), which, coincidentally, happens to also lead back to Fishguard, where I live. Which is a good way to show just how crinkly the place is.

See that harbour, and the lovely houses in the distance? That isn't Fishguard. That's Goodwick, our neighbour (Who would technically be a district of Fishguard if it weren't for the Gwaun river, the marshy land around it, bloody mindedness, and, of course, our old friend Politics). Fishguard also isn't just round the corner. You're being welcomed to Fishguard a good quarter of a mile before you get anywhere near it, because...

Those houses, just visible among woods that can't possibly be connected to the road I'm on, could it? THAT'S Fishguard. Specifically, the bit that happens to be quite near where I live in Fishguard. And just a little further on...

AAAARGH! The same place, different routes, different hassles. I love going out... I just hate coming back, and not just because it's coming back. Still, I took lots of pictures, the itching on my knees has subsided (not my lower legs, the nettles only seemed to hit my knees... strangeness), I've stopped sneezing because I'm indoors, and nowhere near the massive volumes of pollen and cut grass I inhaled on the way back, I have some very snazzy trunks for swimming again, and I've managed to amuse you all.

So yes, even if it hadn't been a lovely day... It's been a lovely day.