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Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to write two reviews of Universalis. Because right now, I’ve just finished reading it, and I don’t actually know what it’s going to be like to play the game. But there’s a lot to say about it before I do.
There’s currently a debate in Norwegian gaming circles about whether it’s possible to say what constitutes a “good” or “bad” game. My personal view is that it’s not easy to pass a value judgment on the way people actually play, but there are several criteria that can be applied to a game text. Does it state its goals clearly? Does it reach those goals, using setting, mechanics and other elements? Does it avoid self-contradiction and confusion? However, in reading Universalis, I find there must be at least one other criterion: Is it entertaining and easy to read?
1. Is it entertaining and easy to read?
The Universalis text suffers from a major flaw. It is written like a book on computing. Like any gaming text, it explains and defines abstract terms, how they relate to each other and interact. But it does so in a, for lack of a better word, inhuman fashion. It doesn’t appear to be written for people. When reading it, I felt like I was being programmed, not entertained. An example, picked more or less at random: “The game mechanic effect of Eliminating a Component is to render the Component unavailable to be Introduced into scenes chronologically set in the future. The Component could still be introduced into scenes set in the past (before it was Eliminated). However, while additional Traits may be bought for the Component in those prior scenes, they will not (simply by increasing the Component’s Importance) over ride the fact that the Component has been Eliminated”.
Why not write something more like: “When you eliminate a component, nobody can introduce it in scenes set in the future. It can be introduced into scenes set in the past. Even if someone buys more traits for it in those prior scenes, so that it gains in importance, it still stays eliminated.”
There are lesser problems that can be a slight obstacle for the reader. There are some instances of poor proofreading and editing, and several cases of referring to rules appearing much later in the book. However, it was the writing style that threw me. I bought the game a year ago, as far as I recall, and started reading it, but had to stop after 30 pages. They’re small pages, and there’s just 86 of them, so usually I wouldn’t have any trouble getting through the book fairly quickly. Since I’m hell bent on running it in a months’ time, I read through the rest of it this afternoon.
So is there a good game in there? I’ll get to that. But first: Another criterion.
2. Does it state its goals clearly, and reach those goals?
I’m going to focus strongly on another perceived fault. Then, I’m going to talk about the good stuff.
Universalis is a game of “Unlimited Stories”. Now, what’s a story? In Universalis, on one level, the mechanics are focussed on Components (such as characters, locations and objects) and how they can interact and change during the game. On another level, the mechanics control narrative power: Who gets to say what and when.
However, very little is said about the defining structures of a story. How to create mood? How to address a premise or theme? How to achieve a satisfying ending? At the start of the game, the players are invited to define what genre of story they’re going to tell. But the mechanics don’t actually have any support for emulating different genres, or indeed making sure it all turns into a story. For all the system cares, the “story” can be as asinine as “Bilbo walks across the street. The street turns blue. Then it turns grey. Then it turns blue. Then it turns grey. Then it turns blue.”
The thing that’s supposed to steer the game in the right direction is the coin and challenge system. Basically, a player wants to narrate something that another player doesn’t agree with, the one who pays the most coins from his pool gets to decide what happens. If you really want something to happen, you’ll pay a lot of coins.
The game, in other words, relies on player consensus as to what a story is, how it should be told, how plot proceeds etc. The mechanics can handle conflicts between players’ differening views, but are not equipped to actually make plot proceed in a story-like fashion.
To me, this is a crucial point. If this is a story-telling game, it should have rules for telling stories, not just narrating how characters act and events occur.
Now, the good stuff.
The game has a smooth machinery of mechanics to simulate the inside workings of a narrative. It runs roughly as follows:
Each scene is framed - that is, set up and ended - by the player who bids the most coins to do so. After setup, players take turns doing things like introducing existing components that they then control for the rest of the scene (characters etc), further defining or changing components they’ve introduced (by adding or removing traits), creating new components, narrating events, and letting components interact with each other (letting characters talk with each other, letting heavy things fall on top of soft mushy things etc).
Players pay coins for doing all those things. And that’s the basic brilliant idea of the game: The more coins you spend on something, the more that means you care for it. And the more coins people have spent on something, the harder it is to get rid of, and the more ways it has to interact. How much you care for a story element is measured by how much you pay for it.
Players get new coins at the end of every scene. But they can also get coins for creating complications - the basic driving mechanism for tension & excitement. Remember how players control things they introduce into a scene? If a player wants to affect something he doesn’t control, that’s a complication. For example, this could be suicidal thoughts haunting a character someone else is currently controlling, or a plague of locusts attacking a village someone else controls.
When a complication occurs, players start building up dice pools for their side. They can buy dice with coins, or use component traits that are appropriate to the situation. When everyone’s done building up pools, roll dice! - and the highest number of successes (results from 1 to 5 on a d10) wins.
Everyone participating in a complication gets coins. However, the winner gets the most coins, and gets to tell his bit of how the complication ends first.
The sweet thing here is that if you’re low on coins during a scene, you can just start creating complications - and if you do it right, you’ve both won more coins to tell stuff with, and created an exciting situation for everyone. Creating fun pays off!
3. Does it avoid self-contradiction and confusion?
Well, hell yes. The advantage of having a text written like this is that you just can’t misunderstand the rules. There’s never any confusion as to what’s going on, once you’ve actually parsed the sentences. The different bits of the game seem to interact fluidly, and they make intuitive sense. Once you’ve read a section, it seems naturally right.
Summing up
Universalis is hard to read, but its rules are clear and make perfect sense. It doesn’t tell you how to create stories. It helps you create interacting narrative elements, and decide who gets to say what when.
Playtest review? Give me about a month.
