Super Battle Mon

Super Battle Mon is a sort of micro-TCG, where decks are 7 cards (10 total if you have a sideboard), games are 6-7 minutes long, and you can play without a table. More on that last one later. I quite like it!

Image of the Super Battle Mon Starter Deck Box Set

It’s also in the middle of a crowdfunding campaign for a pair of mini-expansion structure decks. So if any of this sounds fun, I’d encourage you to go check it out and consider pledging.

The goal of Super Battle Mon is quite simple. Each player starts with their entire deck in their hand, and each turn both players play a Mon. After resolving each Mon’s abilities, you compare your total Mons’ power to your opponents’, and the player with lower power discards a card. This continues until both players can’t play any more cards, and the player with the most Mons in play wins.

Two decks of Super Battle Mon cards are laid out on a card mat.

So what’s the catch? Well, there are quite a few. Many Mons can be cheated into play. Mons also have costs that have to paid by discarding cards, and each card spent paying those costs is one less Mon in play in the long run. There are mind games on what your opponent’s next Mon will be, and there are counter plays to overly devastating strategies. (Looking at you Capybara.)

And all of it is packed into a very short game that can be played in just a few minutes. And honestly, that form factor is a large part of my enjoyment. Games are so short that even when I did get blown up, I just dug into my collection and built a new deck.

Overall Thoughts

TCG’s as hobbies are notorious for being time and money sinks, but with Super Battle Mon, every booster pack is a deck. It’s possible to build a deck, play it, rebuild it, play it again, and then scrap it and build a new one in less time than a single game of Magic.

Is it a perfect game?

Well, no. Not yet. There’s a fair number of errata for the first set, and the ability resolution system is a bit clunky. Not a bad system. Just a bit tricky to parse correctly.

Still, Super Battle Mon does an excellent job of delivering on what it’s trying to do: the bite size TCG experience, without the pain points of most modern TCG’s.

And since they managed to fulfill their first crowdfunding campaign, I feel pretty comfortable pointing folks at the second one. So maybe if you want to play a card game with more playing and deck building then just buying cards, check it out.

Type Help

I’m going to save both of us some time here. Did you like Return of the Obra Dinn? Did you like it a lot?

Yes? Great. Click this link and you will have an enjoyable several hours, and it will not cost you a penny.

Okay, time to deal with the rest of you.

Somehow it’s become “Free Web Based Indie Games That Are Novel Takes On Existing Systems” month. It doesn’t exactly roll of the tongue, but just like Dragonsweeper, Type Help is a FWBIGTANTOES.

I did not intend for that acronym to include BIG TAN TOES. Now that I am looking at it, it’s making me increasingly uncomfortable, so let’s move on.

Type Help is a mystery puzzle game played via a command line, all about deducing information. Specifically, it’s about deducing the names of a series of transcribed audio files, all which follow a specific naming convention.

Since it’s a puzzle game, and part of the puzzle is figuring out what the puzzle is, from here on out there will be heavy spoilers. Consider it your last chance to experience it on your own.

Here There Be Spoilers

Type Help is a murder mystery. As mentioned above, your primary goal is to deduce the names of various text files, all audio transcriptions of a house in which 12 strangers were found dead, with no clues as to who they were, or how they got there. Even more mysteriously, the individual working the case in question also died.

So the main gameplay is guessing the names of files. After you’re given a few starting points, it becomes clear that the title of each file follows a simple naming convention, like this:

02-EN-1-6-7-10

The first number indicates time in the sequence, the second set of letters indicates a location, and the remaining sequence of numbers indicates who of the 12 strangers were present in the scene. For example, early scenes will often end with characters saying things like “Person #1, please come with me to the Billiards Room” and so you can deduce that a file might exist named something like 03-BI-1-8. Typing that in will unlock the file.

Of course, it’s obviously not all that simple. Sometimes someone else will have already been in the billiards room, so you’ll need to deduce who that was. Sometimes people don’t leave a room they’re in. Ultimately, it’s a big puzzle of “Who was where, when?”

My Thoughts On It

I have roughly the same problems with Type Help that I had with Return of the Obra Dinn, but a different set of praise. I consider Type Help a far more compelling mystery—and more interesting sets of character dynamics—than Obra Dinn.

Unfortunately, just like Return of the Obra Dinn, once general gist of the mystery became clear, I didn’t find it particularly compelling to puzzle out a lot more of the busy work, and get the “true ending.” In both games, I got about 60-70% of the way through, and hit a wall where I was no longer having any fun.

Some people really enjoy color coding elaborate spreadsheets.

I am not one of them.

For Return of the Obra Dinn, I put the work in to finish it out. For Type Help, I just looked at the spoilers in the comment section, and frankly, I think I made the right choice. The initial puzzles, worldbuilding, and unfolding mystery were interesting. But it would have taken me an additional 5+ hours to find the finale and “big reveal,” and I bet it wouldn’t have felt worth it.

I did enjoy a large portion of Type Help. I think it’s good. But it’s like a cake that’s just a bit too large, with frosting a bit too rich. Maybe it’s somewhat dry in parts, preventing me from finishing the whole thing.

BIG TAN TOES

What makes me crowdfund a project?

I’ve been spending money on a lot of projects last week, and I thought it might be interesting to briefly talk about why I’m crowdfunding those specific projects. I have a pretty specific set of standards when it comes to crowdfunding, and so far, they’ve (mostly!) kept me from being burned. They’re also a little different between video games and board games. So what are they?

The Rules

Obviously, I have to want the project to succeed. But even then, I tend to run it past these small internal checks first.

  1. The developer or publisher has delivered another project.
    This doesn’t have be another game in the same genre, or even another fully produced project on their own. It doesn’t even have to be the same scope. For example, when I backed TemTem, I suspected it was likely to fail (or at least not quite meet the hype). But Crema Games had released Immortal Redneck, so risking $20 wasn’t too big a gamble.
  2. If they haven’t released anything, there must be a fairly extensive demo, or playable prototype.
    This is more common for board games than for video games. Usually, by the time a board game gets to the crowdfunding stage, there was a “playtesting it on Tabletop Simulator or Screentop” phase. But if possible, I want to play the game before backing it.

Why these standards?

Rule number one is designed to filter out two groups of people: scammers and dreamers. Scammers are simple enough to understand: if something is too good to be true, it probably is. Dreamers are a more complicated group. Being good at marketing and pitching (the skills crowdfunding rewards!) is absolutely not the same as being good at game development. Or working with manufacturing partners. Or managing international shipping regulations. Or any of the other dozens of things that need to happen behind the scenes to actually get a board game to your door.

Rule two actually serves a bit of a different purpose.

I buy things because I want to have fun. The goal is to exchange money for enjoyment. That said, I’m not too picky about the order in which that exchange happens. If a game developer makes a fun game I can play in Tabletop Simulator and I have fun playing it, I’m willing to give them some money.

The Projects I backed

So now that I’ve set out these little rules, let’s look at all the projects I backed, and see how well they align.

Pond by Brother Ming

This one is entirely a “previous projects” back. Brother Ming has a strong track record of consistently delivering, and I’ve really enjoyed some of his game designs. As such, it’s the sort of thing I’m willing to take a chance on, even if I haven’t played the game myself yet.

Space Lion 2: Leon Strife

Just like Pond, this sort of a legacy back. I very much enjoyed Space Lion, I spent a lot of time playing it with friends on Tabletop Simulator before it released, and Solis Game Studio successfully delivered it.

Super Battle Mon – Ranger Packs

This last one is a little bit more on hopes and dreams. I backed the original Super Battle Mon campaign. The cards came in recently, I played it, and it was a ton of fun, so I’m putting up some money for the expansion. I’m optimistic it’ll fund at a reasonable price-point, but I mostly just want to see some more Super Battle Mon cards.

So all these projects are going to succeed?

I have no idea. I sure hope so!

To be frank, I have some worries about all of them.

Pond looks excellent, but has a high number of components and additional pieces, all of which could drive the cost up significantly if the current tariffs stick around. Space Lion was a bit of a niche game in the first place, and hasn’t hit its funding goal yet. Super Battle Mon has hit its funding goal, but is still sitting at a wildly low amount of money for custom printing of a TCG.

In short: None of these projects is a given. That’s the risk of crowdfunding. But for all of them, I want them to succeed, and I’m optimistic that they can, and will.

Dragonsweeper

I like Dragonsweeper. It’s also free. You should go play it in your browser here.

This is perhaps not the most elegant piece of writing I have opened a blog post with, but it’s also all true. Dragonsweeper is a small, clever twist on Minesweeper. It doesn’t cost any money. It won’t eat your entire day. There are no microtransactions, or other bullshit. It’s just good.

To quote the office: “Why use lot word when few word do trick.”

That said, you’re still reading, which means you haven’t been persuaded yet. That’s okay. Maybe you missed the first link. Here, I’ll link to again.

It’s possible that didn’t work either. Unlikely, given the incredible rhetorical barrage I’ve assembled so far, but possible.

It’s important to note though, that since Dragonsweeper is a puzzle game, in order to talk about it, I will be spoiling some of the puzzles. As few as I can! But some. This is your last chance to just back out and play it?

No? Well let’s continue.

Dragonsweeper is a puzzle version of Minesweeper. It uses the general framework of Minesweeper the same way Balatro uses poker: as a structure with so many things grafted onto it that it’s almost unrecognizable. But understanding the general concept or the original will make the initial exposure more tolerable.

Like Minesweeper, Dragonsweeper consists of a grid of tiles. Clicking a tile reveals what’s beneath it. If the tile is empty, just like in Minesweeper, that tile then displays a number of the sum of the surrounding tiles.

Unlike Minesweeper, most tiles on the board are not empty, nor do they contain mines. Instead, they contain monsters. This is a problem for our boy Jorge.

As Jorge spawns with only 5 health, clicking on a Minotaur early is an easy way to game over.

When you click on a monster, Jorge loses health equal to its power. If Jorge goes below zero health, it’s game over. Fortunately, defeating monsters also gives experience, and after collecting enough EXP, Jorge levels up, refilling their health bar.

But after the first few levels, the amount of EXP needed to level up is higher than the Jorge’s total health, and just defeating monsters isn’t enough. Instead, it’s necessary to crack open treasure chests, use healing scrolls, or find some other sources of EXP.

If you’re just starting the game, you will almost certainly die.

And then the real game begins.

This is your Last Chance to Back Out Before I Start Spoiling The Puzzles I Mean It This Time

In the corner of the screen is a little tiny purple book. When you click on the book, it tells you which monsters have which values, and how many remain. It also includes this little bit of text.

This right here is the heart of Dragonsweeper. See, Dragonsweeper isn’t truly random. It’s randomized, but after a few death screens, you might notice that the 10 value monster, the Mine King, is always in one of the corners.

Or you might instead pick up on the fact that the Slime Wizard is always guarded by six 8-value purple slimes, and always on the edge of the map.

You might spot that the 4 value gargoyles will always be facing another Gargoyle in a cardinal direction.

There are at least another five or so little patterns and rules like this. There are some I haven’t even found, and there are several that I didn’t spot until I had beaten the game, and was showing it to a friend.

For me, spotting these, and figuring out how to use them is what makes Dragonsweeper so brilliant. It’s very clever puzzle design where learning about how the board can be laid out, and how some things interact is the progression.

Again. Dragonsweeper is really good, and you should play it, and it’s free.

And a request for the developer: please make a full game. I have given you money and I will give you more.

Gametrodon’s 4 Year Anniversary

It’s been four years since the first post on Gametrodon, and I have to say: Wow, how time flies when you’re distracting yourself from reality with digital and cardboard amusements.

Five years seems like as good a time as any for some retrospection. So let’s start at the very beginning.

The First Post

In our very first post, I talked about some games I saw at PAX that seemed cool. These included Lucifer Within Us, Knuckle Sandwich, and Genshin Impact.

I’d end up interviewing the Creative Director of Lucifer Within us, Jongwoo Kim, about the game. It was a really fun interview, and also demonstrated how much work interviews are.

2020

That first year of 2020 had the most total interviews I’ve ever managed to actually put up. I chatted with Max Seidman of Resonym about running Kickstarters and Surrealist Dinner Party. I talked with Jeremy Choo, the CEO of a Malaysian development studio about how their publisher stole their game, and how they tried to get it back.

Interviews, like RPG Module reviews, have not really become a regular feature of this blog. They’re a huge amount of work to do properly, and while I love talking to people, I don’t love transcribing and editing. The Secret of Shirakawa Castle has remained one of my favorite “tester” adventures in D&D though.

2021

There isn’t too much to say about 2021. The pandemic continued to ravage the earth, and it had some knock-on effects the world of gaming. Some standouts I want to draw attention to include Beglitched, Shovel Knight, Atomicrops, Disgaea 6, Luck be a Landlord.

Storybook Brawl was pretty good, but then they got bought by a crypto company. Then the CEO of the company committed an $11,000,000,000 fraud. So you can’t play that anymore.

Oh, and there was that whole Blizzard being a shitshow thing.

2022

2022 started with a bang: mostly me banging my head against a wall as “Gamers” continued to fail to understand how to read a shareholder letter.

But it’s okay, because I played Inscryption, and it was great. It would also see the continuation of Rants as a category of my posts. Even though none of my rants are particularly accurate or thoughtful except maybe this one about MetaZoo. That one I think I kinda nailed.

Nobody Saves the World was great. Pokemon Legends: Arceus ran like shit. Stacklands and Mad Rat Dead were good. CRIMESIGHT was unlike any other game ever made, and Konami killed it because they’re fuckers. Perfect Heist 2 was also great, but I’m not sure it still has a playerbase. I played a dating sim as a joke.

Oh! And Neon White came out! And Hazelnut Hex!

Finally, we had a Pour One Out, a semi-regular feature for all the games that died that year. Some years I do one of these, and some years I’m just not feeling it.

Honestly, 2022 was an incredible year for games.

Shame about the five year relationship I was in that ended near the end of 2022, and as a result would chipper-shred my productivity for uh…

Pretty much everything since then.

2023

I did manage to get out a review on Pokemon Scarlet. It has some fun drawings, something I haven’t really returned to since then. Pedigree Tactics also feels like it deserves a shout out for being a rare situation when I was able to give criticism that actually helped improve a game. I guess I did a Ludum Dare?

A lot of this year was just a fucking haze, if I’m being honest.

Deceive Inc was cool. I ranted a bit about Diablo 4. Lorcana was a thing. Clank! Legacy was good enough that I bought the sequel.

Oh! And Tiger and Dragon, a fantastic tile trick taker sort thing was probably the most played board game of my friend group in the last few years.

The year ended with a backlog cleanout of things I didn’t have the energy for a full writeup on, even though Pizza Tower and Inkbound absolutely deserved them.

2024

2024 was truly one of the years of all time. There were bangers, like Slay the Princess, Palworld, and Baldur’s Gate 3. And Tactical Breach Wizards,

There were non-bangers like Knuckle Sandwich and Legend of Mushroom.

There was X-Angels (NSFW!).

And there was Athenian Rhapsody. God, Athenian Rhapsody.

I think the Athenian Rhapsody writeup was rewritten more times than any single thing I’ve ever put on this blog, and involved perhaps the most… soul searching? Internal dissection and critique? Thinking? I dunno. Just… it was a huge amount of effort for a very minimal outcome.

Athenian Rhapsody is really difficult to discuss.

Oh, I also saw the eclipse. And there was a complex bit of board game inside baseball that I accidentally had front-row seats for. Finally, I covered the Indie Games Night Market.

The Present

And so we enter the fifth year of Gametrodon. I’m not famous, or even internet famous. I’ve created some great opportunities for myself to talk to folks in the industry. I still don’t have a press badge, the one thing I wanted when I started writing this site. My quantity of work is definitely down from the first two years, even if the quality is up. (Thanks in no small part to my nameless editor!)

Which does raise a question: Is it worth it to continue writing this blog?

I’m not sure.

There have been several projects over the last few years I’ve picked up, and then dropped or failed to finish. Fluffy rants and personal opinion pieces are easy enough to crank out. Taking a stab at something resembling journalism, or full interviews, is much harder, and often those don’t even result in usable drafts.

Running and writing Gametrodon is a hobby that sits on top of my other hobbies, and like most side things I do, how long it lasts is mostly dependent on vibes and habit. There was that point in time where I was streaming 3 times a week, and that other point in time where I was making TikToks.

Honestly, though, I kind of hate playing the meta when it comes to this stuff. I may switch back to making comics, because at least they amuse me. I may just keep doing weekly writeups.

I have no idea where I am going in life, and this blog is just a part of that.

Oh, one more thing.

A Small Favor

No, it’s not money.

Look, if you enjoy reading Gametrodon, do me a favor and retweet and like my stuff on Bluesky. Or whatever it’s called now since Twitter died in a fire.

Not for every article or writeup, but for the stuff you find interesting, or useful, or informed you about a game you wouldn’t have heard of before.

Retweet that stuff.

I still have my small hopes of reaching the point of being a micro-influencer at some point, but beyond that, I like people reading my stuff. I like talking about games.

But it does feel nice to not just feel like I’m flinging words into the void every now and then.