Although I did not enter Game Chef this year (I wrote Egregore in 2010), I volunteered as one of the backup judges to cover for AWOL entrants. These are my in-depth reviews of the four games I was assigned to. Authors can feel free to contact me for further feedback or clarification.

Numbering is per the Game Chef entry page.

Index Thingy

Daughters of the Terran Revolution
On This, the Day of My Daughter's Wedding
The Play's The Thing
The Faerie Court

21. Daughters of the Terran Revolution

This game had me at hello. It's got the most compelling premise of the four games I reviewed; it takes the surprisingly rare step of incorporating a Tarot deck (and thoughtfully provides alternate playing-card rules for the Tarot-challenged); and it makes some bold design decisions, like having all characters be shared troupe-style.

In its mere four printed pages, there's a LOT to like. That makes its weak points all the more heartbreaking.

The most critical -- as far as this competition is concerned -- is that this doesn't pass my subjective threshold for a "role-playing game." Instead, it reads like a Collaborative Storytelling Game, in the vein of Once Upon A Time or The Extraordinary Adventures of Baron Munchhausen. It's missing a number of traditional RPG elements, and in the process of standing further and further from the "standard" RPG, it crosses somewhere over a line.

Primarily, what distinguishes an RPG for me is the fact that (all or most) players assume a character. The rules assign various capabilities to this character, and the player experiences the game from that character's POV, being affected by in-game events and making decisions that have consequences in future play. But there's no real character here: The character sheet consists only of play-generated answers to premise questions (and those answers are shaped primarily by random draw). You start as a blank slate, and the game's structure as a flashback limits character growth -- which is exacerbated by the constant character swapping, forcing you to limit your emotional investment in any given PC.

Another mark against it in the RPG department is conflict resolution, or more accurately the lack thereof. The core is rock-paper-scissors when two narrators disagree (or voting for multi-player disputes). It's not the RPS that's the problem here -- it's the lack of rules beyond it. Role-playing rules systems are distinguished not by resolving conflicts, but by clarifying conflicts -- the rules are there to tell you things like what elements it's acceptable to dispute; what the stakes of conflicts are; how much control is gained from winning; what it costs you to change the game state (playing RPS is cost-free in game terms; there's no downside to challenging everything); etc.

Don't get me wrong, this game has a lot of promise as a CSG -- giving it more RPG elements would not necessarily improve it. I want to play this game. It's just very awkward to judge in an RPG competition. (I also suspect that this game passed through some more-RPG-style revisions before ending up in its current state -- the Materials list calls for "one six-sided die," even though there is nothing in the rules which requires rolls.)

As other reviewers have noted, this also isn't a particularly Shakespearean game. It might have helped here to drag it more directly into the mold of an Elizabethan tragedy: it already ends in the protagonists' deaths, but those deaths are not necessarily a direct result of the characters' heroic flaws. For the next version, it's worth asking: Would constraining the circumstances of the crash, and focusing on how the exiles' flaws brought that about, create a more powerful game?

Ingredients-wise, it's a mixed bag. Exile's clear. I'm not buying "forsworn" at all, but I'm giving the game unclaimed credit for "nature": it's integral to the premise that the exiled characters were sent into -- and are being killed by -- the wilderness of space. And "daughter" gets a gold star, on the strength of a single line in the introduction: "The only survivor will be the AI ... your only chance to leave something behind is to tell her your stories." This is a game at its heart about the legacy one leaves behind. The game's implication that the AI is childlike -- not fully developed enough to understand your tales -- is thematically brilliant, and adds a major twist to the endgame.

Rules-wise, the game is complete and cohesive, though occasionally confusing. (Are character sheets passed before roleplaying scenes, or only before each question?) It would benefit from release as a PDF -- the HTML formatting currently breaks the question numbering, so that you answer questions #1 and #2 three times each. The questions themselves are largely solid. A few don't catch me -- like requiring the characters' trials to be roleplayed out -- but I'd like to see how they work in practice.

My biggest suggestion for the next revision would be to play around with the way that characters are shared. Troupe play is an interesting tradeoff -- especially in a game about legacy. (The idea that your legacy is never under any one person's control is a powerful one.) But I suspect the current rules make the process of play problematic, by interfering with players' engagement with their characters. I look forward to seeing how that's addressed.

(Edited 8/2: Added some specifics and explanation to the "it's not an RPG" criticism.)

23. On This, the Day of My Daughter's Wedding

The first thing that struck me on reading this was the amount of work that clearly got put into it: it tips the scales near the word limit, and contains supplemental material enough to double its size (including a full conversion of the tabletop game into a LARP). It's got excellent use of the Shakespeare theme, as well as solid ingredients (the only game I reviewed to make "Forsworn" genuinely integral to gameplay).

I'm torn between reviewing the LARP and the tabletop game. As other reviewers have noted, even though the tabletop was presented as the primary entry, the LARP seems the stronger game.

One reason for that, I think, is the game's ambivalence on its sources of conflict. The tabletop especially is set up with the players versus the GM. ("Each time a courtier takes a physical action, the playwright responds with a reaction"; "Courtiers attack, and the Playwright defends". What happens when the courtiers attack each other?) Whereas the LARP, by its nature, can't sustain this waffling -- the meat of the game comes from player interactions and player conflict. There is a mechanism for favor trading, and specific discussions of how to kill other PCs.

(This is not to say the LARP is perfect. Those killing rules react confusingly with the prohibition of noble death before Act 3. Do already-wounded characters simply have plot immunity until the right time unlocks? Do killed players have any recourse other than to twiddle their thumbs until the game ends? And since physical actions always succeed, what's to stop two characters from teaming up and wounding/killing every PC and NPC in the game at the first opportunity, taking over in a quick, bloody coup? At least in the TTRPG, the GM gets to decide if characters die or get to bounce back.)

The limits of the word count also affected the TTRPG more. There are a few points where the rules are insufficient for play. In particular, Traits -- which "provide the players with additional actions to take." Since there are no rules for new actions and two examples which merely rename existing actions, Traits are basically meaningless. The provided Traits in the LARP mitigate this, and I feel the main game is incomplete without a similar Trait list.

I feel like the Secret Goals are also in this category. It's pretty clear how to generate one, but once game starts, precious little to be said about it. There are no consequences for the secret being broken (even though the game suggests that GMs threaten players with revelation to liven things up), nor any benefits to achieving the goal. The goals also drive Act 4, so what happens if they're achieved early, or are given up on, or are exposed?

I hope these two complaints don't sound like nit-picks, because Traits and Secrets are fully 2/3 of character creation, and getting stuck on those rules sets the tone for a lot of the rest of the game.

It's a shame the rules are such show-stoppers for me, because other elements of the game, like character guidance, are nice additions. The "Playing the Playwright" section is impressive in a game with such a tight word count budget; the lists of motivations and reactions and scene starters have great potential to aid new players, and the built-in scene/act structure is like getting an adventure thrown in free with the rules.

Overall, there's a solid game in here, and it won't take much revision to bring it out -- especially starting from the base of the LARP.

26. The Play's The Thing

Let me describe what playing this RPG looks like: You get a bunch of friends together in a lonely, darkened building during a weekend (when most people are out drinking). One of you -- the keeper of the rules -- is trying to tell the beautiful and profound story set out by that rulebook, and is in charge of every little thing that brings the story alive. The rest of you assume the roles of individual participants, facing a familiar dilemma: the story is about you, but it's not your story, not while that fellow with the rules is trying to railroad you through the plot. So you rebel. The king simply will not shut up about the Plot MacGuffin, so you finally snap, and have your character wander across the room to seduce the princess.

That's the world of your characters. On the other hand, you, the player, are getting a bunch of friends together in a lonely, darkened building during a weekend ...

Meet "The Play's The Thing," an RPG so deliciously meta that it needs to come with a commentary track titled "Roleplaying!: The Musical." Okay, sure, it says it's about "the divine art of the theater," but what do you expect from an entry in a Shakespeare game competition? (Nod, wink. It's alright, we won't tell.)

It took me in at first. I started reading it, and I was all, "Hmm, strong use of theme -- the idea of a 'play within a play' is straight out of Hamlet. But the ingredients are weak -- if they'd all been left out it wouldn't have changed the game any. The actors' stats are pretty simple and thematic, although casting the play seems a little hinky ..." But realization started dawning as I read through the section on script edits. "Hey, that's pretty funny, the actors are trying to munchkin the play plot ..."

All my gushing about the cleverness of the game's framing aside: how does it hold together? Pretty well! The mechanics are all comfortable and familiar, and I think using FATE-style Invokes/Compels was a solid choice for your character's character's traits.

There are a few rules that require elaboration -- chief among them the "jokes/misunderstandings for Story Points" mentioned on the first page but never explicitly addressed. There are also some aspects of the game that could use polish. But I feel like I could pick it up, read the rules to my friends (with some Sondheim in the background and a few unnecessary rhymes inserted), and get going. This is a major plus in a game design competition.

As an example of rules that seem weak: there are explicit mechanics for killing characters (including PCs), but no mechanism for a prematurely killed PC to continue affecting the game; some thought may be needed there to minimize "there goes the evening" syndrome. Also, The Ham's powers are seriously OP -- free edit attempts? 66% savings on scene walk-ons? Yikes!

Most of my other notes are tiny things (such as Edmund in the sample cast list being his own betrayer), and there's no need for me to nitpick -- those problems will shake themselves out after some playtesting and revision. That's also the main reason I'm not going into more detailed feedback of the rules: I don't feel like there's a lot I can say that will be more useful than "get someone to play it and see what works." I'm currently without a gaming group, but I look forward to reading a playtest report of this solid entry.

30. The Faerie Court

(Note: Sorry I'm late - I tried to write a more extended review to make up for it. -B)

One of my pet peeves about the English language is the phrase "romantic comedy". Modern English treats the word "comedy" as "something that makes you laugh" -- with the single exception of romantic comedies. That's the one lonely phrase where "comedy" reliably retains its classical theatric meaning, of a story with a happy ending, regardless of its laugh-out-loud content. A rom-com can be good without being hilarious (see: High Fidelity), but it cannot be good without being romantic.

The Faerie Court bills itself as a "romantic comedy game." It isn't meant to be funny (though I suppose it could be played that way). But, boy, it sure packs in the romance ... and in the tradition of all good rom-coms, it's there to give its participants a learning experience.

The game is specifically designed for two players (who ideally have "full trust" in each other and "a high level of intimacy"). This is a pretty daring design choice. (Emily Care Boss' Breaking The Ice is its closest neighbor; few other two-player RPGs have that focus on romance.) I don't have enough experience in the two-player genre to compare The Faerie Court to its predecessors, but they're worth mentioning (and researching, if the author hasn't read them).

The frame of the game is very Shakespearean -- a bet between Oberon and Titania that sends two of their servants off to Earth "to find the true meaning of Love". This is reinforced by various game elements, such as the Temperaments of the human characters (which use the Four Humours popular throughout Shakespeare's era). The "Hot/Cold" and "Wet/Dry" distinctions are summarized well and provide an excellent framework for the game, although I found myself disappointed that Puck and Mab aren't tied back into that system. (They're trying to prove very different things about love! Wouldn't it have made sense to, say, make Puck a Hot character and Mab a Cold character, and give both of them a unique in-game power related to their temperaments?)

As you might imagine, this makes the Nature -- as in "human nature" -- ingredient very strong here. I would hold this up in future Game Chefs as an excellent example of how to take an ingredient and make it central to the game. It's clear not only that Nature was used well, but also how it drives other play dynamics -- such as the maneuvering to discover your OoD's Temperament and target your wooing to overcome their resistances.

Frustratingly, the other ingredients are far less central. Exile is used only in passing, as a threatened post-game consequence of failure. Daughter and Forsworn don't make an appearance at all. This is bad from a Game Chef perspective, but ultimately better for The Faerie Court as a game. TFC knows what it wants to do, and it focuses like a laser on that one thing ... and does it well.

In fact, this game feels so polished it's hard to believe it was a Game Chef product. I pay a lot of attention to detail in game rules, and this game gets all the details right. The dice are well-balanced, so that getting the best Love Score result is within reach as long as you match your OoD's Temperament well (although I would raise the thresholds for the lower tiers; you REALLY have to work at failing to get "Some Sparks"). There are several sections of rules -- notably "Lines and Veils" and "Exposing the Conclusions" -- that clearly show the author has paid attention to the best lessons of indie gaming. "Lines and Veils" borrows heavily from Ron Edwards' Sex and Sorcery, but is a fantastic touch in a game this focused on love/relationships/seduction/sex. It shows the author is invested in giving tools to players that will be useful when pushing beyond the normal gaming comfort zone. I wanted to stand up and applaud when I read that section.

So what didn't I like about this game? First of all, that I may not ever get to play it. There are few gamers who I feel I could share the necessary intimacy of The Faerie Court with; my wife is at the top of the short list. I had her read through the rules while I was reviewing it, and we both agreed that we're equally in the Titania camp. Since the rules say that you're supposed to play the faerie opposite your natural inclination, it would be very awkward for us to pick our Mab. (I suspect the similar role reversal works in "Breaking The Ice" because you're trying to play someone like your play partner; you can come up with distinctions at play time. TFC's scenario draws an artificial line and asks both players to choose a side; there's no guarantee that they'll come down on opposite sides, and no good fallback position when they do.)

There are also a few language issues that shocked me out of full engagement with the game. (Please note: I am not criticizing the author's English -- which is excellent. These are specific complaints.) The worst offender is in the Lines and Veils section: "Dont be a dick -- respect the other person's sensibility. But don't be a pussy either -- risk a little." This is the only off-color language in the entire rules, and it's genuinely painful to read -- especially since it's tucked in the middle of advice on encouraging a safe environment for exploration. The gender-based insults need to be thrown out, immediately. I'm sorry if this seems trivial, but it's really one of the things that left the deepest impression on me (mostly because it was so wholly unexpected and counterproductive).

Another one -- less alarming but more confusing -- was the proliferation of terms for the Temperaments. Someone who's Choleric is Hot and Dry, which means that they have High Resistances in Attraction (ATT) and Dominion (DOM). Reading through lists of which Temperaments gave you which bonus dice just made my head hurt: I had to translate the abbreviations to their full versions, then cross-reference those in the rules to their Nature, then cross-reference which Temperaments used which Natures. The game might benefit from throwing out all the Dice Pool terms and simply using Hot, Cold, Dry and Wet for them -- that would literally cut the vocabulary in half. Finally, naming the Active Player's counterpart "the Road" is a stretch. I know there's some relevant Shakespeare quote about "the road to love," but the term doesn't stand up on its own here, and there's no need to push the already-strong theme into every corner of the game.

My final concern is: Is this meant to be a competitive or a collaborative game? RPGs exist in the space between those two extremes, but the way most RPGs juggle that question is to have larger numbers of participants, so that you can simultaneously compete with some and collaborate with others. (In mainstream RPGs, this usually runs "collaborate with players, compete with GM.") A two-player game does not offer the luxury of waffling on that question: all competitive elements detract from cooperative exploration, and vice versa. I bring this up because this reads like a collaborative game ("What did you learn about yourselves and each other?" is the core question in the final section) ... but there is an explicit score mechanic, and players are asked to sit in direct judgment of each other's efforts and assign score points to how they roleplay. This raises a red flag for me. A good player will try to set aside strategy while evaluating their partner's contributions -- but your rule incentives lead in the opposite direction (you come closer to winning by undervaluing your partner's participation). This is something the game will have to directly address as it matures toward final release.

In conclusion, I am impressed by The Faerie Court. It is the most carefully and thoughtfully crafted of any game I reviewed (and beats out most of last year's contenders on that scale, too). It's an extremely strong entry, with only a few weak points. Unfortunately, those weak points are small but crucial, like the keystones on an arch. It should take very little effort to fix them, and I strongly encourage the author to do so -- this game will be formidable in its second revision, and I look forward to a version that keeps my wife and I from fighting over who plays who. ;-)