Chris Ingersoll

 

One of the recurring settings in James Ernest’s Cheapass Games is Frieday’s, the zombie-staffed Fast Food Restaurant of the Damned. Lord of the Fries, now published in a color deluxe edition by Steve Jackson Games, puts from three to eight players in the paper hats of said brainless zombies as you try to meet the orders by assembling the various ingredients indicated.  

The deluxe edition comes with sixteen double-sided menus (four copies of eight different menus) spanning traditional fast food fare and more specialized cuisine like Irish, Chinese, Italian, Steakhouse, and even a holiday menu. In addition to unique combinations of ingredients, several menus have their own special rules to keep things interesting. 

Whichever menu you choose to play, you first have to adjust the deck accordingly; certain restaurants don’t offer seafood, for example, so you have to remove the “Fish” cards from the deck. There are actually two decks per menu, one for 3-5 players and one for 6-8, and the instructions tell you both what you need to put in to the deck and what you simply need to remove from the full deck in order to construct them. Once the deck is ready the entire thing is dealt out, even if this means some players get more cards than others. The dealer then either calls or randomly determines the first order.

A “called” order is just that: the player looks at the menu, then selects one of the entries on it to be the order for the round. A “rolled” order is determined by two six-sided dice; one (the green one) determines the section of the menu, and the other (black) one indicates the actual order. Staring with the player on his left, a player can either meet the order by playing the required cards from his hand or pass; a player who passes on a called order also passes one card to the player on his left (the next player to try to meet the order), while a rolled order sees all cards being sent to the player who rolled it. 

If a player meets the order, he sets those cards aside and will score them at the end of the “shift,” then he becomes the leader and determines the next order. However, if nobody is able (or willing…) to fill the order, the customer starts becoming impatient and will be less picky. The order goes around the table again, although it can be missing one required card for each time it passes the current leader. If the order ever reaches zero required ingredients the order is abandoned and the lead passes to the left. A “shift” ends when a player gets rid of his last card one way or the other. At that point everyone scores the values of the cards used to fill orders and subtracts the values of the cards left over in their hands. It is recommended that you play four shifts for a full game, but whatever number works for your group will be fine.

Deciding when to roll and when to call an order is perhaps the most important strategic aspect of the game. Rolling might earn you more cards that you can use to make large orders, but is uncontrolled. Calling an order is safer, especially if you know you’re the only one holding a given ingredient, but you don’t get a chance at filling it until everyone else has had a shot, so you better be sure. But nobody plays Lord of the Fries for deep strategy; most of the fun comes from the wacky order names — and in some cases figuring out how the given ingredients relate to it. An average game will take around 45 minutes, but that will obviously vary depending on the number of players and how many shifts are played. You should be able pick up some fast food fun at pretty much any store that carries SJ Games like Munchkin for about $25. 

Liight

March 23, 2011

Studio WallJump’s elegant WiiWare offering Liight i

s an abstract puzzle game that tasks you with illuminating various colored posts with a selection of colored light cones. Since you only have the three primary colors of light (red, green, and blue) at your disposal, you will have to overlap the areas of illumination in order to satisfy the yellow (red + green), cyan (green + blue), magenta (blue + red), and white (all three) posts. Posts that are lit up by the wrong color(s) will let you know by giving off a halo of the offending color(s), while satisfied posts light up with a healthy glow. Further complicating matters is the fact that you can’t just place the cones anywhere; some spots of most maps lack a floor, and others have raised blocks that obstruct your glows. Finally, there are also black posts that must remain in the dark in order to successfully solve a given puzzle.

The main mode in Liight is “Solve” mode, which contains 100 puzzles broken down into four 25-puzzle difficulty levels. The beginner levels give you the basics, without too many complications. Medium levels introduce spinners that rotate certain posts until you have them where you need them to be as well as split posts that put out two colors in smaller arcs than the normal single-colored posts. Hard and Expert levels don’t introduce any new tricks, just devious post placements that will require you to place your light posts with pinpoint precision.

Controls to do so are simple. Placing the cursor over a cone and holding A allows you to drag it and put it where you want (more or less); this isn’t quite as accurate as it sometimes needs to be, which will result in some frustrating repetition as placements that were legal while you were holding the button suddenly become illegal when you release it. Holding B allows you to twist the Remote to turn the cone until it’s pointing in the desired direction; you will often need to “dial in” your beams carefully in order to solve puzzles. You can use the buttons separately or simultaneously, whichever is more convenient for your playing style, as there are no time limits in “Solve” mode.

Time is more pressing in the other main mode, “Endless”. In this mode you have one cone of each color and have to shine the correct light(s) on randomly-generated posts until they vanish; the posts have a visible timer on them that indicates how much longer they need to be lit up before they are scored. “Endless” mode suffers  from the somewhat imprecise controls and the incredibly precise limits on your cones’ areas of illumination, but since it isn’t the main attraction its flaws are mostly forgivable. The other modes are “Create” and “Send”; the former allows you to make you own “Solve” puzzles, and the latter lets you send them to Wii friends. 

The strategy in Liight is straightforward on most levels. You only get a certain number of cones, so the first order of business is often figuring out which ones must used to cover certain posts. Once you have that down the rest usually falls into place, but environmental hazards and/or particularly tricky posts will sometimes require rethinking. It’s not much of a brain-burner once you get used to it, but it’s still a pleasant challenge that will keep you busy for a few hours.

Visually, Liight puts all of its focus on the lighting effects, as one might expect. They’re nothing special, but they do what they have to do. Much more effort was put into the aural components, surprisingly. Every stage has nothing but the yawning sound of an endless void as background music initially; as posts are lit up, they emit additional layers of techno-like music that add up to a groovy beat once things get rolling. Amusingly, lit black posts emit a screeching feedback that will seriously put a damper on your groove until you correct the problem.

Liight will only set you back 500 Wii points ($5) for 100 premade “Solve” stages and the opportunity to make your own and trade them with friends (plus “Endless” mode, I guess). That makes it an easy recommendation. Puzzle fans should definitely pick it up, and anyone else who thinks the concept sounds interesting won’t be wasting too much money to give it a try. 

Pros: Simple but elegant puzzle design; groovy sound effects; bargain price

Cons: Cone placement can be finicky at times

In Reiner Knizia’s Blue Moon City (published by Fantasy Flight in the US), two to four players attempt to reconstruct the ruined city of Blue Moon and claim leadership by making the most crystal offerings to the central obelisk.

They will seek aid from the various races that inhabit the city as well as the three elemental dragons to acomplish these tasks. This board game is a further exploration of a Knizia-designed card game simply called Blue Moon, using the same world and races, but the two games are otherwise unrelated. 

The City itself is laid out using the 21 double-sided tiles; the Obelisk’s courtyard is positioned at the center of a cross-shaped layout, with the palace and three temples surrounding it and the remaining tiles distributed randomly. Players begin on the courtyard, and the three dragon pawns begin off the board entirely. A number of Golden Scale tokens depending on the number of players is set aside, and each player receives eight cards.

On their turn, each player can move up to two tiles (orthogonally, not diagonally), then play as many cards as they wish. Each of the building tiles has from one to four colored boxes, each bearing a number from 2 to 5. Discarding similarly-colored cards of a given total or more allows a player to place one of his ten cubes on the corresponding space. Once all of the spaces on a building have been filled, that building is completed. Each player reclaims the cubes he has placed there are anyone who made a contribution receives the indicated reward of crystals, scales, and/or cards; whoever made the most (or in the case of ties, largest and/or left-most) contributions will receive a bonus reward, and all involved players might also receive an additional “neighborhood” bonus if adjacent buildings have already been completed (this bonus is indicated on the reverse side of the tiles, which represents the completed buildings). If a player moves to the courtyard tile, they can make one offering of crystals and place one of their cubes on the obelisk; the number of offerings required to win the game varies by the number of players, and offerings get more costly as more are made. At the end of their turn, players may discard up to two cards and then draw two plus the number of cards discarded in this way.

In addition to providing effort for reconstruction, many of the cards also have a special ability that can be used by discarding them. Cards can grant additional player movement, an additional offering to the obelisk (at a cost of one or two extra crystals), dragon movement, or change the colors of themselves or other cards for the purposes of contributions to buildings. Once a dragon has been moved on to the board by an appropriate card, any building contributions made while one or more dragons are on that tile award that player one golden scale per dragon (not per contribution). When the last golden scale is claimed, whoever has the most (and at least three) gains six crystals, and everyone else who has at least three scales earns three crystals; if there is a tie for most, everyone just gets three crystals. Anyone who receives crystals in this manner returns their scales, so it can be worth it to trigger a scale-scoring even if you only have one or two as it will probably put you in the lead for next time.

Careful hand management is key to success in Blue Moon City. The cards’ powers can shift the lead in dramatic ways, especially towards the end of the game when everyone is racing back to the courtyard to make the last offering or two they need to win; often being able to move an additional two spaces (or to simply fly to anywhere on the board) can mean the difference between winning and losing. Of course, being able to get to the obelisk isn’t going to help if you can’t afford to make the offering, so the other crucial strategy is to figure out how to get more crystals than your rivals; earned crystals are kept secret, but it often isn’t difficult to keep track of who’s storing up a bunch. Those two tips may be somewhat obvious, but there is one additional resource that must be minded: your cubes. You only get ten, and every contribution you make to a building will tie one or more up until that building is completed; additionally, every offering you make to the obelisk will consume a cube permanently. Spreading yourself too thin can be a recipe for disaster, especially if the other players notice this and do everything they can to not complete buildings that will free up your cubes.

Like most Knizia designs, Blue Moon City combines subtle strategy with easy play. The components are also well-designed, from the colorful cards to the detailed tiles and the plastic dragon pawns. A game of Blue Moon City takes less than an hour; even though there is no actual reading required (the cards use a symbology to explain their powers that is fairly straightforward and universal), the recommended age is ten and up due to the strategy required to succeed. A new copy usually retails for around $30 and is well worth the asking price.

The best way to describe Radiant Historia, the latest Atlus-published DS RPG, is to compare it to a “Choose Your Own Adventure” novel. By the time you successfully complete a run-through of Radiant Historia, you will have navigated two alternate timelines, both of which are littered with potential dead ends – which result in the eventual termination of the world under a blanket of lifeless sand – and only one “good” ending. Navigating your way along the “razor-thin path of light” (as one character describes it) will require you to hop back and forth not only between the time lines, but between past and present as well. 

Your time-traveling and/or dimensional shifting is courtesy of the White Chronicle, a powerful artifact which is cryptically given to you by your boss prior to a mission. The guardians of this tome forbid you from discussing it or its abilities to your companions, and are themselves forbidden from acting as anything more than your guides, so you will have to figure out how to accomplish the task you are destined to complete yourself. As you progress, you will encounter significant historical points, referred to as “nodes”; you can jump back to any node via a save point (or from the world map), but if you haven’t yet reached the next node (or new Chapter) you will have to replay much of what you have already accomplished, so it is usually best to wait until you are stuck for a solution. When such a situation arises, your guides will tell you as much and suggest that you explore the other time line and your current predicament will become a new node. The Chronicle keeps track of all events you encounter, as well as any side quests you might discover along the way, in a flow chart-like display that is easy to navigate; this also serves as a convenient recap as to what you have already done — and what you have changed — in case you get lost. The narrative can be a bit confusing at times, what with all of the shifting through and across time, so this is a welcome resource.

Radiant Historia also features a neat combat system that makes every encounter a strategic one. Your party of up to three members (selected from a roster of up to seven at any given point in history) line up on one side as normal, but the enemies are arranged on a 3×3 grid similar to that found in the Mega Man Battle Network games. Using various skills, you can shove your opponents around and knock them into each other; enemies that share a space are affected by your attacks as if they were one entity until you stop hitting them, at which point they spread out again. You can chain together impressive combos this way by manipulating the turn order, displayed on the top screen. Normally each participant acts in order according to their speed, but you can change positions with any other participant, friend or foe, on the list so your team can get a bunch of actions in a row. The trade-off is that until a swapped character actually takes an action, he is extra vulnerable to attacks. Some enemies also have special formations that give them additional strength and abilities, as well as the power to enchant grid squares for extra power, defense, or healing, so being able to move enemies around is important even if you don’t want to combo them into oblivion. Of course, certain enemies can’t be moved…

Besides the fun combat system, Radiant Historia also shines on a narrative level. The seven protagonists and their allies aren’t just cookie-cutter RPG clichés, and even the villains have surprising depth in their motivations. The story is equally deep, with a world-spanning war being fought over the few remaining areas of arable land, thanks to a mysterious desertification that is rendering areas all but uninhabitable. This is helped by mature characters who don’t shy away from the fact that this is a war and lives are at stake; when the eventual (and inevitable) world-saving aspect arises it is a smooth transition, unlike the similar shift in last year’s Sands of Destruction. As mentioned, some confusion can arise when it comes to the twin time lines and how changes in one can affect the other, but overall the story holds up as a cohesive whole, especially when you have to consider the machinations of the owner of the Black Chronicle, the White Chronicle’s destructive counterpart.

That said, Radiant Historia is far from flawless. The lack of a quick-save feature is especially noticeable, as save points and opportunities to rest are often infrequent. The game also doesn’t make as full use of the DS’s dual screens as others in the genre; a mini-map would have been helpful, for instance. Early on in the adventure you will gain the ability to move around heavy objects, which later includes explosive barrels; this pushing is awkward, being limited to only forward and backward depending on your current facing, so you will have to constantly reposition yourself in order to get the barrels to their destinations. And as might be expected in a game revolving around time shifting, there will be times when you have to replay the same segment several times in order to complete missions; fortunately the game allows you to fast-forward through dialogue with the X button and skip (most) cut scenes completely by pressing start, but there are still times when you will need to revisit an event at the wrong end of the space between nodes.

Still, these are relatively minor complaints, and none of them really affected my utter enjoyment in playing this title. 2010 was packed with high-quality RPG offerings on the DS, and 2011 looks to continue this trend if Radiant Historia is any indication. This one won’t be as easy to find as, say, Pokémon Black/White or Dragon Quest VI, but be sure not to miss it. 

On a side note: the first editions of the game are packed with a 20-minute music CD containing five piano versions of the game’s tracks by Yoko Shimomura, who also composed the soundtracks for the Kingdom Hearts and Mario and Luigi series. As someone who has imported official soundtracks in the past (often at great cost due to them being out of print by the time we get the games here in the West), this is a welcome addition that I would very much like to see become more common in the future.

 

Dutch designer Corné van Moorsel brings Factory Fun to the US courtesy of Z-Man Games. A deceptively complex game, Factory Fun will tax your brain as you struggle to arrange machines in your factory in order to maximize your profit. This is not an easy task; by the end of the game your factory will most likely be a chaotic snarl of pipes unless you plan carefully — and are a little lucky. 

Each player (from two to five) is issued a factory board (each slightly different), three white output reservoir tiles, one of each of the four colored supply containers, and a stack of ten face-down machine tiles. Available to all players are an essentially unlimited supply of connecting pipe tiles, thirteen black end product reservoir tiles, and two spare supply tiles of each color. All players start on the 2 position of the money/score track, and the object is to have the most cash after ten rounds.

Each round begins with all players taking one of their face-down machine tiles and simultaneously revealing them in a central area. Players then get to take one of the available machines to install in their factory, but it’s not quite as simple as that. Any player can take any machine; whoever touches a given machine tile first is the one who is stuck with it, for better or worse, so you have to quickly evaluate the feasibility of actually using each machine before a rival swoops in and takes it from you. If you take a machine and do not place it you are penalized five dollars/points, unless you are the last player to select one in a given round.

Each machine has one or more colored inputs with values ranging from 1 to 3 and one output that is either a similarly-valued color or a black end product. All of these connections must be satisfied in order to install the machine. Inputs must be connected to either a supply container or an output of the same color and equal or greater value; outputs must be contained by a white reservoir, other machine’s input or equal or lower value, or a black end product reservoir. You will often need to use various pipes to meet these requirements, and a given pipe can only contain one color of product, so plan accordingly. Placing any non-machine tile costs you one dollar, calculated after you are finished with the installation; each machine is worth its printed value, with more cash being awarded for more complicated and/or demanding devices. You can also move or rotate tiles relatively freely (a move costs one dollar; you are effectively picking it up for zero and replacing it for one), although you are limited to being able to move only two preexisting machines (at a cost of two each) each time you install a new one.

Careful management of your outputs is critical. The limitation of only getting three of the white catch-all reservoirs is one major reason, as is the fact that it will be all but impossible to have all of your inputs satisfied by your supply containers, but connection bonuses are the most important factor. Whenever you connect an output of one machine with an input of another (bearing in mind that you have to meet the input’s requirements), you earn an end of game bonus of five times the value of the connected input (5 for a 1 value, 10 for a 2, and 15 for a 3). With skilled pipe work you can even combine or split outputs in order to make the numbers work: a 3 output can be split to feed a 2 and a 1 input, or three 1 outputs could merge to satisfy a hungry 3 input. Bonus points are often the difference between winning and losing.

Being aware of what outputs you have available to you is key when determining what machine to take each round, but there are a couple of other factors to keep in mind. Certain tiles award you a bonus supply container of one color (one even lets you choose which color), which can be a life-saver in tight situations. Machines that produce the black end product are often worth a lot of cash, but the trade-off there is the fact that the black reservoirs are dead ends and can’t be combined. Perhaps the most important skill to develop is knowing when to forfeit constructing a machine; it can be worth taking a loss if you’re generating bonus payoffs, but sometimes the cost will simply be too much given your current layout.

The amount of thinking and manipulation required to manage your ever-sprawling network of pipes and machines makes Factory Fun seem like less fun than advertised, but successfully surviving the entire ten rounds often changes the overall impression to that of a good mental workout. My only real complaint is the difficulty in keeping track of the cost of extensive remodels towards the later rounds, but that could jut be relative inexperience. The factory boards are double sided, with the reverse “expert” side containing more difficult layouts for advanced play. Factory Fun retails for around $50, which feels about right for the sheer amount of cardboard contained within. As mentioned, it’s a serious brain burner, but even with all of that work a game still plays out in the space of about forty-five minutes to an hour.