Stars Below card deep-dive: The North Wind

This is part one of a five-part series of articles on the design of the cards for The Shipwreck Arcana: Stars Below expansion.

Stars Below began its inception on the drive home from Gen Con 2018, with a van full of game nerds and one question: how many more arcana cards can be designed for The Shipwreck Arcana? During the game’s initial Kickstarter run, we dug deep and exhausted our pool of ideas (several times over) while coming up with stretch goals, but a year later we were refreshed and ready to tackle the challenge anew.

What makes a good arcana card, mechanically speaking?

1. Range: It eliminates some, but not all, possibilities.

2. Context: Its value changes based on the cards around it.

3. Uniqueness: It doesn’t overlap heavily with an existing card.

4. Reliability: It’s never completely useless, and rarely a complete freebie.

Requirement #1 tends to be the easiest in a vacuum, and they get harder as you try to meet #2, #3, and especially #4. Given that we’ve already made 31 cards, Uniqueness is also a particular problem. There’s also an unspoken #5: it must fit in the text box!

So where do we start? How about with something that arcana cards have never cared about before: the “hour” pips on each fate token. This idea became The North Wind:

The key to this design is that behind the novelty, it also satisfies the other requirements, carving the number line up in a way that past cards haven’t. Because playing a 4, 5, or 6 on this card always narrows your fate down less than playing a 1, 2, or 3, it gives you some simple strategic thinking and room for optimal play.

The effect ends up being simple, yet always useful. This makes it a point of reference when you don’t play on it in favor of a more complex card. We think of these as building block cards, which are critical when someone plays on a more complex card. “Why didn’t she play on the North Wind? I guess we can rule out 7.”

It turns out that building blocks are way harder to make than complex cards, so this — along with the Musicians — proved vital during design and playtest of Stars Below.

Gen Con 2018 and Upcoming Games

Gen Con 2018 is approaching (Aug 2-5), so here's what's coming up for Meromorph Games!

Gen Con 2018 Exhibit Hall

You'll be able to find us in the Exhibit Hall this year at booth #2646. We'll have existing Norsaga and The Shipwreck Arcana products for sale. Stop by with your Gen Con coupon book to grab a free promo card:

If you're a Kickstarter backer of either game, we'll also hook you up with those promos, regardless!

We'll be running demos of both games in our booth, along with something new we're working on...

Prototype artwork shown.

Our current project is a pocket fighting game, which requires only a handful of components and features quick, tactical gameplay.

• Players secretly and simultaneously program their desired actions and movements each round, then reveal and resolve them, which keeps gameplay moving and limits downtime.
• Luck is limited to a single die roll each player makes each round, which determines their priority. Everything else is outguessing your opponent to land hits before they do.
• A diverse roster of 12+ characters with their own abilities and signature moves gives endless variety. Special map tiles, gameplay modes, modifiers, and items can be mixed in for even more.
• The game scales easily from 2-4 players, and we're testing it all the way up to 8 players. Modes include free-for-all and team battle, and we're testing AI opponents for solo and co-op play.

Overall, this game presents a very flexible, expandable fighting system that you can take anywhere, teach anyone, and play quickly. We're excited to be demoing it at our Gen Con booth this year, and after the convention we'll be preparing Print-and-Play files for anyone interested in playtesting the game at home (shoot us an email at meromorphgames@gmail.com if that's you).

If you enjoy it as much as we have, I expect it will make its way to Kickstarter in 2019!

Game design by Peter Plashko, Matthew Bishop, and Dan Miller.

Dev Diary: Shipwreck Lore (3 of 3)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

The Shipwreck Arcana is a real game about a fictional deck of cards. The deck exists in a world which is described only as "sunken" or "drowned." The world's history is unknown -- but it is hinted at by the fictional illustrator of the tarot deck, providing a glimpse of the history that surrounds it.

There are two discernible plots which influence the card illustrations within the main deck. However, the collected promo cards supplement that with a third tale, one that already underpins the deck and the fictional world it exists in: the tale of The Hours.

It begins at Dawn, this tale. When the light ascends and the land is laid bare, it begins. The sun shines down upon land and sea, separated by the cold smooth sand. You might think its light falls equally upon both realms, but this was never so.

Though the waves feel the light, the depths do not. In that abyss sleep the drowned, the dead, the darkened. Most dream, of a sun long lost. But some do more than dream.

So it was that a nameless ghost -- nameless in these depths, name stripped away, name floating somewhere far above and long ago -- woke in her silted cradle and remembered light. She trekked far across The Deep, following a glimmer or a lie, but it does not matter. She found light: The Lantern of the sun, its candle burning without air. It reminded her of what she'd lost.

She snuffed it out.

The darkness held. She could not see the ripples, the waves she'd begun, but in the sky above it could be seen. It could be seen at Dawn -- for Dawn did not come. The sun and moon had been split Asunder, and the sky was cracked.

Midnight came, holding a bone-white moon over the world. She held it low, searching for Dawn her brother, but all the moon saw was night-drenched sand. Her hours passed one by one, but Midnight remained. There was no one to take her place in the sky.

The seas swelled in pity, reaching to comfort the moon. They broke their sandy shackles and overwhelmed The Shore, drowning a hundred kingdoms in their sorrow. One mattered more than most: for on its shore stood The Belltower, which separates the living air from the drowned depths. It was washed away.

In The Deep, the dreamers woke.

Mortals whisper of a devil that floats through the black abyss: Leviathan, who swallows islands as easily as ships. The creature is a continent of bone and coils, bringing both doom and sustenance to those who dwell below. Upon its severed fringes the drowned will teem, engaging in The Feast which never satisfies.

In the sun's absence, this hunger only burned brighter. It lead the drowned like a torch, guiding them through The Passage which had been unlocked by The Belltower's fall. It lead them through twisting corridors rotting with gold, past frenzied eyes that flocked like stars overhead. It lead them onto The Shore.

You may recognize them. In The Deep they were fleshless bone, but now clothed by air and moonlight, they don familiar faces of long ago. Most want only to breathe deep, to taste food again. A few have darker urges, and it is small thanks that no sun remains to illuminate their wake.

Did all escape The Deep? No. Some of the drowned remain, and new mortals continue to be ferried into its halls by The Pallbearers, whose work is unhindered by Midnight. Iron masks hide their faces -- if they ever wore faces. Their path is quicker than it once was; busier, too. But they are the ones who made The Passage. It was meant for them, and those they carry.

Our tale might end here -- the world in fathoms, Dawn shattered, dead souls unfettered and ill at ease. But in these darkened times, even the faintest candle will catch our notice. It is yet a ways off, but it flickers in the distance.

It begins as a sinking ship.

The Hours slip away one by one as wood sinks beneath waves. Can a ship die? Has it died already? Or does it breathe as its captain does, taking one final bite of the salted air before the black waves wrap it tight?

The ship dies, but The Captain does not. She watches her vessel and her crew descend. It is many years before she stands on dry land again, but the image never fades. She will not forget The Hours and what they took from her. She stands upon The Shore, staring down the black corridors that lead below. The Passage leads to her ship, her crew. Where else does it lead? Who but The Pallbearers can navigate its depths?

The Hours may have robbed The Captain, but she has made good use of the years. The Wish is what she's gained: a gift from an indebted spirit, to be granted at her request. She can ask for anything she wants, but she knows what she needs.

She needs a guide.

She leaves behind only footprints and a black feather at the mouth of The Passage. Somewhere in the maze, beneath seas, beyond death, she searches: for her ship, her crew. When she finds them, she does not turn back. The Passage is not the only way out of the afterlife. Why return to a drowned world, when there are others to explore?

She does not know it yet, but her search for other worlds may save her own. The trail she blazes through The Passage to other lands, strangers will pass through on their own journeys to this one.

He is one such stranger. He may have come through The Passage for gold, or lore, or to escape. He may not even mean to find this world. But he is fated to -- it is his Fortune. What will he do with it?

He will not leave it to chance. The deck is in his hands. He reads the cards to find out.

In the cards he sees The Mirror, cracked. He sees the moon, unreflected. The Mirror desires balance. It calls out for a new sun.

We have spoken of The Deep, but there is another darkness, a different darkness. It is not crushing but empty, so empty, so completely and nearly empty.

Nearly empty.

And yet filled beyond measure with stars.

One star hears The Mirror's call, and bends its voyage towards this world. Its heart is Iron. It will be here soon, ready to be forged into something new.

Dev Diary: Shipwreck Lore (2 of 3)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

The Shipwreck Arcana is a real game about a fictional deck of cards. The deck exists in a world which is described only as "sunken" or "drowned." The world's history is unknown -- but it is hinted at by the fictional illustrator of the tarot deck, providing a glimpse of the history that surrounds it.

There are two discernible plots which influence the card illustrations. The second is a classical tragedy: the tale of The Prophet.

His gift was sight: not of the world before him, but of the years. This gift he employed in the service of peasants and patrons, of cooks and queens. His eyes burned with untold horizons, and yet: a dark cloud gathered.

Obstructing his sight came a doom -- his own doom. It was impenetrable and inescapable. It drew nearer, obstructing other fates in its path. The Prophet set out in search of salvation, begging every patron past and present for aid in these dire straits, but only one had the answer: The Lord, Akela.

He basked upon a throne built over many years and many wars, each of them won under The Prophet's guidance. His sword carved stone Asunder. His fleet canvassed the sea. And in his throne room sat The Chalice, which never runs dry.

It came back with Lord Akela from a crumbling kingdom across the sea. None had dared to taste it, for The Prophet himself had warned that its ichor was not for mortals. But now, faced with his doom, The Prophet wished to be mortal no longer. Let me taste it, he begged The Lord, that I might survive my doom and serve you forever.

Did The Lord acquiesce? Or did The Prophet steal a sip of the brew? For certainly it touches his lips. It drips from them still, a venomous slaver running down wicked fangs. He is no longer mortal, The Prophet: but his doom was never mortality. Folly and fear lead him to drink deep, and become The Beast.

His appetite and his blind anger soon grew unchecked, and he returned to visit those he had once prophesied for. As each patron met their doom, The Lord heard, and grew angry. He sent his two greatest warriors to curb The Beast's reign. He sent The Huntress, and her lover.

He should have sent more.

The Huntress survived, leaving her sword behind to pierce The Beast's shoulder. Of her partner, nothing so heartening could be said. Griefstruck, The Huntress journeyed to The Shore of the sea and cast in a medallion: memento of her loss. It sank beneath the waves and found its rest in The Belltower.

The Huntress might think her tale ends here, but if she could see down to the depths, her error would be apparent. The Belltower once stood on the very same shore, guarding the boundary between land and sea -- between life and something else. Its fall heralded the end: the sea's rise, the world's ebb. Its foundation still crusts The Shore, while the tower's wreckage lies lost and buried in The Deep.

Its bell, long silent, rang out once as The Huntress' medallion struck it.

Upon The Shore, a pause. The Huntress had departed, her footprints washed away. Yet other prints have appeared, trekking into the water. Travelling from life to something else... or perhaps returning.

A mark upon her back shows how far she has come, how far she has yet to go. A face hidden beneath sea-soaked hair would be unfamiliar to even The Huntress now. She is The Stranger. She wields no sword or rifle, carries no weapons to strike mortal foes -- for she has not returned to hunt anything mortal.

The Beast lies before her like a heart before an arrow. She has been loosed by the sea into a world one step closer to ruin. She will find her mark soon.