CKII: The sun sets

Last time on Crusader Kings II, I got myself well into the 13th century and secured the Empire of Suomi. Unfortunately, my prospects for further expansion weren't great, because I think that's what you call a blob right there:

Luckily for us, though, the Justanids to our south collapsed; less luckily, the Byzantines and Hungarians were quick to the spoils.

The nobility provided some entertainment.

This, however, is where we ended up. The empires of Suomi, Byzantium and the Mongols carved up what used to be the Justanid shahdom, and then it was just the three of us.

Below, the three great faiths: Christianity, Islam and "Suomenusko".

And as a curiosity, the trade republics and the Silk Road.

But every story has an end, and here's this one's.

**

So, that was a long slog, but it ended well. I hope I've made it abundantly clear how much I love this game. It's sort of stealthily worked its way up my all-time favorites list to an almost alarmingly high position, and I'd strongly recommend it to any and all fans of strategy games who are willing to figure out how it works. However, having said that, the end of a gruelingly long campaign seems like a good place to also talk a little about the game's shortcomings.

First and foremost, maybe mainly due to my academic interests but also just in terms of gameplay, we really need to talk about the combat system. I discussed it a little in my previous post, but to recap, there isn't really a whole lot that you, as the player, can do about combat. Tactics are the preserve of the computer, so all you can do is appoint capable leaders and try to have an advantageous army composition. The latter is done by building buildings in your holdings and hiring retinues, so this is long-term work. What little operational art there is basically consists of tricking the AI into attacking into rough terrain across rivers. Finally, strategy is really a matter of cold math: calculating when you have the advantage and attacking when you do.

As combat systems go, this isn't all bad: many strategy games, foremost in my mind the Civilization series where armies are still essentially chess pieces, are much worse. But frankly, war in Crusader Kings II is clinical and boring, and there's not much meaningful scope for player skill.

The fellow Paradox named their strategy engine after maintained, quite correctly in my mind, that war is the continuation of politics by other means. It's kind of a double irony, then, that if the warfare leaves a lot to be desired, the politics themselves are almost completely absent. By this I mean diplomacy, in the sense of relations with other states. There pretty much isn't any. The only real diplomacy is dynastic marriages, which result in non-aggression pacts that can be parlayed into alliances. You don't really have diplomatic relations with other realms: either you're at war or not, and while at peace, there's basically no interaction, and perhaps most importantly, no trade to give you any reason to not be at war. The Reaper's Due adds a Prosperity mechanic which rewards you for being at peace, but does nothing to redress the complete lack of diplomacy.

This spins off onto another pet peeve related to my academic background: while I like that religions are prominently featured in the game, the way inter-faith relations work is deeply unfortunate. While different religions have a rich variety of different ways to declare holy wars on each other, their opportunities for peaceful interaction are even fewer than those between rulers of the same faith, because with very rare exceptions, AI characters from a different religion won't even consider marrying "infidels". This means that interactions with rulers and realms of different religions are practically nil. This is partly why my latest game ended so boringly: there wasn't really anything I could do to come to some kind of terms with either my Muslim or Christian neighbors. Not only is this boring, but it's completely unhistorical. The time period covered by Crusader Kings II certainly had more than its fair share of religious conflict, but throughout - even in the crusades the game is named after - there was also peaceful interaction: trade, cultural exchange, interfaith marriage and much, much more. It's a really unfortunate choice by Paradox, and one not without political dimensions in this day and age, to concentrate so heavily on religious animosities, to the almost total exclusion of peaceful relations.

**

So, having said all that, I'm currently reading John Keay's India: A History, in preparation for a game on the subcontinent with Rajas of India. Later, I intend to get Conclave and Monks and Mystics, and try a new game in Western Europe, just to see how much the game has changed from my Irish days. So certainly none of these shortcomings are keeping me from playing.

Even this game has a finite life, though, and it's been suggested that Monks and Mystics will be one of the last major DLCs. If and when there's a sequel, and I'd gladly pay money for one, I do most sincerely hope that the developers would look at the areas of the game I've highlighted above. Crusader Kings II is a great game, but Crusader Kings III could be so much better.

Let's Play Magic: the Gathering: Mind vs. Might Duel Decks

I mentioned ages ago that before we got into this whole living card game thing, the previous time I played any kind of card game that wasn't either bridge or poker was with a Magic: the Gathering Ice Age starter set.

The thing about Magic is that as near as I can tell, Richard Garfield pretty much invented the modern collectible card game. All the other card games we play, whether Lord of the Rings, Game of Thrones or Arkham Horror, use mechanics that are functionally almost identical to those in Magic. So you might even go so far as to say that this is also a project of historical interest.

This summer, I happened to find what I think is a Revised Edition Mountain card hanging around our summer cottage. I used it as a bookmark, which is probably what made the idea of playing again start to grow on me.

So eventually the inevitable happened. If I remember my university classes correctly, Islamic theology maintains that everyone is born a Muslim, but not everyone manages to stick with it. Therefore, one does not convert to Islam but rather returns to it. Something similar seems to be true about Magic; at any rate, I, too, returned.

Our friendly local gaming store had some 7th edition starter sets hanging around, and we grabbed one. The starter set gives you one blue-white deck and one red-green one, with a booklet explaining the rules. Ours was a Finnish edition, and I have to say that the translation was very well done! The rulebook gives a reasonably good walkthrough to a sort of pre-scripted game; once it leaves you on your own, though, my blue-white deck had the edge in some surprisingly powerful creatures, and my partner ended up being overrun by bunnies.

We were also given a pair of 2016 Welcome Decks for free, so our FLGS really treats us pretty well. Admittedly this already added up to a reasonable total of cards to get started with, but I figured we could do better. Duel Decks seemed the best way to get stuck in with more contemporary Magic, and I picked the Mind vs. Might Decks to kind of go with our Lord of the Rings decks; since my partner plays mono-Tactics, the red-green Might deck seemed like the best match, while the red-blue Mind deck was close enough to my favorite sphere, Spirit.

In our first game - the first time I played Magic with real cards this millenium - I got off to a decent start before being destroyed by Rubblebelt Raiders. Knew I should've kept that Rift Bolt in reserve...

The second time around, it was my turn. First I got Young Pyromancer out, which meant a pile of Fire Elementals, and then I set up a combo of several spells next turn followed by Empty the Warrens; at the end of the turn, I controlled seven Fire Elemental tokens and eight Goblins, which promptly overran my opponent.

Next time, I lost in fairly short order, but I did get to drop a meteor on a tree, so it wasn't all bad.

So far, then, our limited testing bears out what I'd read about the Mind vs Might duel decks online: especially the Might deck is accessible to new players, and most of the time Mind will lose, unless it can pull off a spectacular combo and win by miles. Most importantly, especially if you know the above going in, it's damn good fun.

**

I also quite enjoyed Magic Duels on the Xbox, until about a month before Hour of Destruction came out, it was abruptly announced that it would no longer be supported. This is just a weird decision; they had no replacement to announce, but suddenly decided to pull the plug on the previous project anyway. Like the community, I too was surprised and disappointed, as I'd been looking forward to Hour of Destruction on Duels. Admittedly I hadn't spent any money on it, but frankly, if support for their video games is liable to just vanish into thin air with no warning, why would I? Surely the point of a free-to-play Magic video game is to advertise the physical product. Duels was doing pretty well at that.

Now, though, with no new cards coming and the AI opponent endlessly stuck playing the same Amonkhet staples, Duels feels pointless. Instead, I went and got Elder Scrolls: Legends, also a free-to-play collectible card game.

Legends is like Magic, except your mana increases each turn instead of having lands (which is like Hearthstone?), you can't play cards in the other player's turn (which is boring) and creatures are played into one of two lanes. It's not bad, actually!

**

Thanks to Magic: Duels, though, my partner fell in love with Filigree Familiar, so we now also own a Kaladesh bundle.

I have no objections to this: I used a number of Kaladesh cards in Magic: Duels, and I also quite like the art. For example, Kaladesh includes what I think is my favorite Mountain, an almost Roerichesque piece by Eytan Zana.

Because co-op games are our real passion and neither of us has any real interest in competitive play of any kind, our Magic hobby will mostly be a collecting one, which puts a premium on pretty cards.

**

So, reviews. The 7th edition starter decks were all right. My main complaints are that the card choices really aren't very inspired, especially if the aim is to use these sets to introduce people to Magic. Also, the way our decks were stacked, the Silver deck won overwhelmingly and the Gold player just had nothing they could really do about it. So not ideal. However, I do have to mention the translation again, because it's just very good compared to the kind of thing you usually find in products like these. So that, at least, was a pleasant surprise. Basically the starter set did a pretty good job of walking a new player through the basics of Magic, but with surprisingly boring cards.

Magic: Duels was actually pretty good, but then it was discontinued in such a callous way that it's kind of hard to see the point any more. The Elder Scrolls: Legends is better, and I guess we can expect it to be around for a while? Maybe? Anyway if you're into things like Magic I'd give it a shot; the story mode is an enjoyable enough experience. Also, by the way, several of the Legends cards are pretty enough that I'd be quite happy to buy actual physical copies.

Finally, the Mind vs Might duel decks were good fun, and at least for us, an entirely reasonable way for a new player and a very rusty one to get stuck in again. I'm pretty sure you could do a lot worse for a first or returning purchase to contemporary Magic.

Let's Read Tolkien 35: A Journey in the Dark

It was evening, and the grey light was again waning fast, when they halted for the night.

After a failed attempt on the Redhorn Gate, the Company of the Ring discuss their options. They can't go back to Rivendell and abandon their quest. Gandalf suggests passing under the mountains, through the Mines of Moria. Nobody wants to; even the hobbits are vaguely scared by the name. Boromir suggests heading south, either to the Gap of Rohan or even further, to the shorelands of Gondor. Gandalf argues against this, citing both the proximity of Isengard to the Gap and both the great distance and open ground on the way to Langstrand. He reckons they'll be hunted by the Enemy after their repulse at Caradhras, and Moria offers the only chance of eluding pursuit.

The argument is left unresolved when the Company hear the howl of wolves on the wind. Quickly retreating to a hilltop and lighting a fire, the Fellowship gets into its first fight as they defend their position from the attacking Wargs. Gandalf eventually casts a spell, setting the wolves and surrounding trees on fire. In the morning, they find no dead bodies, which according to Gandalf confirms that they were no ordinary wolves.

Led by Gandalf and Gimli, the Company heads for the walls of Moria. Looking for the old road to Moria that once ran by a stream, they at first can't find it until they encounter the dry riverbed. What happened to the stream is a mystery, but they strike the road and soon find out: just below the massive cliff that is the western wall of Moria, the river has been dammed. It forms a still, stagnant lake, which the Company skirt as widely as possible on their way to the cliffs. There they make preparations to enter the Mines, which include saying goodbye to Bill the Pony. Over Sam's strong protests that he'll surely die on his own, Gandalf lays an enchantment on him to help him home.

Next, the Company needs to find their way into the Mines. As Gimli explains, "dwarf-doors are not made to be seen when shut". A search by Gandalf reveals the doors, which are guarded by a riddle in elvish, which he translates as: Speak, friend, and enter. Everyone except Aragorn is thoroughly dismayed to hear that Gandalf doesn't know the answer.

As the wizard starts trying various passwords to get the doors open, Boromir grumbles about the foul lake and throws a rock into it. Frodo wishes he hadn't. Just then, Gandalf finally solves the riddle. He had mistranslated the text: it actually reads say "friend" and enter. When Gandalf says the elven word for friend, the doors swing open.

As the Company is entering Moria, however, they're attacked by tentacles from the lake. Frodo is grabbed, and Bill the Pony flees in panic. Sam rushes to hack the tentacle off Frodo, and everyone runs inside. The tentacles slam the doors behind them and jam them shut. The Fellowship is stuck in Moria.

Gandalf, aided by Gimli, leads the Company through the passages and pitfalls of the Dwarrowdelf. Seeking the East-gate, they descend further into the silent mines. As they go, Frodo begins to think he hears soft footfalls following them.

They pause for a rest at a junction of passages that Gandalf doesn't recognize. There's a room just off the junction, thought by Gimli to have originally been a guardroom, with a well-shaft in the middle. The Company beds down there, and as they're doing so, Pippin, on a whim, drops a stone down the well. After a long fall, the rock falls into what sounds like water. Soon, faint hammer-blows are heard in the depths, like a signal that soon fades away.

On their next day of traveling, the Company finds a passage that starts to rise, and thry reach what Gandalf calls "the habitable parts": a huge pillared hall with smooth, black walls. They rest here, and Gimli gives them some poetry on the past greatness of Khazad-dûm. Gandalf explains to a curious Sam that the greatest wealth of Moria was mithril, a beautiful and incredibly durable metal that could be made into jewelry or practically impenetrable armor. Gimli is shocked when he hears that Thorin had given Bilbo a mithril-coat, although not half as shocked as Frodo is to hear that he's walking around wearing a coat of concealed armor worth more than the entire Shire.

Frodo sleeps, and imagines two points of light like eyes in the dark. He wakes to find daylight shining into the hall through a deep shaft, proving that they must be on the east side of Moria. A corridor leads east, but first they enter an arched doorway to the north, where a light also shines. Inside, a beam of light falls on a tomb, where an engraving tells them Balin lies buried.

**

From the reverse at Caradhras, this chapter takes us through wolves and tentacle monsters to Balin's tomb. The Fellowship's first battle is a rare instance of Gandalf using spectacular magic. In a direct parallel to the Hobbit, it's against attacking wolves, although he seems to have worked on his technique since the previous time. Like I mentioned in the previous chapter, I like that magic in Tolkien's works tends to be somewhat subtle and underplayed; this definitely unsubtle instance is brought about because clearly Sauron, or whatever intelligence is directing the wargs, already knows where they are. It's to escape this situation that they head into Moria for.

The hidden doors of Moria, of course, are very much reminiscent of the secret door into the Lonely Mountain, albeit with differences that make sense. The western doors of Moria, we're told, were usually open and guarded; in olden times, after all, they opened on the elf-country of Hollin. One supposes that they could be shut for the night, when the moon-writing would be visible so that anyone staying out late could still get in, but only if they could read elvish. I think Gandalf's failure of translation is a nice touch.

It's interesting that we don't really get to know anything about what was in the pool and why it attacked. Gandalf is kind of ambivalent on this, pointing out that "there are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world", and leaving unsaid that the creature attacked Frodo first. Was this because of the Ring, or did Frodo just happen to be the closest target? Did the creature attack because Boromir threw a rock at it, or was it a deliberate ambush? Based on the text, it's impossible to tell. Personally, I think this kind of uncertainty is one of the strengths of the Lord of the Rings; not everything always needs to be thoroughly explained.

Moria, of course, is the fantasy dungeon. Given that Dungeons & Dragons has its origins in what was more or less historical miniature wargaming meeting Tolkien, I don't think it's a massive exaggeration to say that the dungeon in Dungeons and Dragons is, ultimately, Moria. It also had a big influence on me; it's hardly a coincidence that one of my first major projects in Minecraft was a pillared underground hall and a bridge over a chasm. From D&D through the Warlock of Firetop Mountain to Dragon Age, Moria is here to stay. The abandoned dwarven halls, with their deep darknesses, unexplained noises and, of course, orc hordes, became a fantasy fixture. It really is one of the most evocative places Tolkien ever created.

The possible significance of two ill-considered stones, Boromir's and Pippin's, escapes me. But the discovery of Balin's tomb is one of the most powerful scenes in the Lord of the Rings; no-one had expressed any real hope of finding Balin, but his grave is still an unexpected tragedy. The whole of Moria, in its ruin and darkness, is reminiscent of a tomb. I'm unsure if this, along with the cautionary tale of the dwarves delving too deep, is intended to convey a moral of some kind. Personally, I don't think it is. But Balin's grave more or less closes out the last threads of the Hobbit - other than the Ring! - winding through the story.

Overall, I still find the Fellowship's journey through the dark splendor of Moria awe-inspiring. Next time: Durin's Bane.