We’re thinking a lot about cooperative games today given the rough run that Dana’s had.
But as so often happens, the rest of life interferes. I have a notion here to veer off into a discussion of the strange ways that business—and other employers—insist that your life, your real life, the life of health, family, and friendships, that your life must not interfere with your work. Rather, I think it’s better simply to call that work “job.” What’s my work? This essay project? The poetry? The difficult work of play? These are all a kind of work, but a work that fulfills me as a human being. You have your own work, whatever it might be: gardening, volunteering, woodwork. So many ways to work with your spirit, to be part of anything larger than you.
And sometimes the facets of your life collapse and refold like proteins and your tiny child—and your work for her is hard but rewarding—develops one of those childhood rhinitis issues and completely retwists your day.
At several points it’s easy to resent a project like this. “You’re in a bad mood,” you snarl at your project partner. “No, I’m not,” she sulks. So both of you are, to use the appropriate cliche, feeling off your game. But game you must. “We were thinking about a cooperative game,” you suggest.
“OK,” she says, “I’m game.”
I did some prep work for Castle Panic and The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (the Front Porch Classic version).
But first, a quick digression (a recent podcast? sure!). The concept of the co-op game isn’t difficult—all the players work against the game—but it’s not a familiar concept. The games aren’t non-competitive, but the competition is against the game’s mechanisms. This approach separates co-op games from non-competitive games like the Ungame (a tedious “conversation starter” game with no beginning and no end, just a long, circular path and a box of questions). Games like Arkham Horror (an H.P. Lovecraft theme) and Pandemic (epidemiology!) unleash various nasty things (monsters and diseases, respectively) that the players must respond to. In other games, there can be a hidden agenda at work. In Battlestar Galactica and Shadows Over Camelot, a traitor works secretly to thwart the rest of the players. The games can run from the mind-blowingly complex—Arkham Horror (three large-box expansions and four more small boxes)—to the very quick—Pandemic.
And Castle Panic.
The structure of Castle Panic (and a nod to garea37 for the photo) is simple: draw cards to your hand limit, trade a card or two with another player, play cards to wound or defeat monsters, move the monsters closer, draw two monsters. It’s a bit like the battle of Helms Deep. Orcs, trolls, and goblins ride out of the woods to try to crush the defenders. But you don’t get a Gandalf and the Ents card (an excellent name for a geek-rock band, I think). If you’re allergic to fantasy critters, stay away from this game. But my god the thing played quickly. We only had the two of us playing, but it was a learning game, which usually adds to the time commitment. And though we tried to end Dana’s losing streak, this game didn’t do it, but we did lose together. Damn the Orc King! And that sneaky goblin that came through on our unprotected flank.
Dana’s a big fan of two iconic literary heroines: Dorothy Gale and Alice. The Front Porch Classics version of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is another co-op game with three levels of play. I had played the basic game with my brother and some of his kids over the Christmas holiday last year, but Dana and I wanted to try the standard version. Except… this is one of the world rulesets I’ve ever read. The rules are very pretty, lots of illustrations, and totally inadequate. The biggest sin is the neglect of small but important details. How to set up if you’re not playing with a full complement of four? Do you keep the “Special” deck separate? Can you re-use leader tokens, or do these need to stay out? Questions that had me flipping through the book, Dana firing questions, and both of us getting prickly. So the Wicked Witch won without us even playing a full turn.
Oh, Glinda, we’ll try to make it up to you.
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