Games Review

Going back to school when you're a full-grown adult with a day job and teenagers is just about as much of a headache as you probably think it is.

I've been a graphic designer for almost 15 years, and I am damned good at it. I specialize in print design, from catalogs and postcards to packaging and brochures. I like to say that I make art that people throw away. I have a few decent freelance clients, and make a little bit on the side now and then, but I want to do a lot more. The problem is, the market for print design is on a downswing. Catalogs are being published electronically. Postcard mailers are being replaced by email blasts. If I want to stay relevant, I need to learn me some web design.

So I've gone back to school, and while I love learning new stuff, it's a whole lot of headache.

For instance, it's tough to get student loans when you're in night school. I had loans, grants and scholarships for my bachelor's degree, plus I lived at home and waited tables. I would say I paid for school myself, but that would be a load of crap. Uncle Sam paid for most of it. But this time around, the bill is all mine.

Plus it's amazing how much work it is just to learn things. I'm not even talking about the time (though I will in a minute). I'm just referring to how much of my brain is taken up with things like CSS syntax and user-side script calls and dehydrogenated lithium byproducts (I made up that last one. I'm pretty sure I made up the second one, too. But CSS syntax really is beating my brain into submission). My head is tired from trying to remember a hundred new values for HTML attributes, and it's making it tough to remember to brush my teeth before I go to work.

And every time I learn one new thing, I discover another half a dozen I'll have to learn next. I finally manage to figure out how to use embedded stylesheets, and then I realize that I really ought to master WordPress and social media feeds. Once I get those down, I'll have to figure out v-cards and Google Analytics. I suspect this is what a web designer sees when he looks at print design. "What do you mean, I have to include a SWOP3 color profile with my collected document? And what the hell is proportional lining?" I know that stuff. But web stuff makes my head hurt.

But the very worst thing about going back to school is the time sink. I can't believe how much free time I had before. I have to write schedules for when I'm goofing off. I spend so much time reading school books and sitting in class that when I actually have time to do something I enjoy, I have to budget my time like a single mother with a welfare check.

It's not as bad as it sounds, though. I actually really love learning new things. I have been experimenting with web sites in ways that amaze myself (though they probably look totally amateur to anyone who can do it for a living). Some of the stuff I've learned recently is like upgrading my Crayolas from the 16 colors to the 64 with a sharpener in the side of the box. My head is spinning with the possibilities.

And even better, I've already got my first client. It's a really small gig, one that any seasoned web designer could do in his sleep, but it's still pretty awesome to know that I can actually apply what I've learned in a real, tangible way, and make a little scratch at it. I may not have as much time for stuff like playing games and eating healthy meals and sleeping, but it is exciting to consider the possibilities for the future.

If you've got something you really wish you could do, and you can break off a few nights a week and a couple thousand bucks, going back to school can be pretty awesome.

You know, once you're done.

I was going to review the Schlock Mercenary board game tonight, but I can't because I haven't played it. I meant to play it last week, and then I didn't, because I was playing Borderlands 2. Then I was totally planning on making time to play it this afternoon, but unfortunately, I used up my whole day playing Borderlands 2. In fact, since I bought Borderlands 2, I have had almost no free time. I seem to be incapable of doing anything else. It's just so damned fun.

Borderlands 2 is a shooter, one of those games where you only see the end of your gun and bad guys are all over the place and you kill them. And I'm not entirely sure why I'm so hooked on it, because I get totally bored by most shooting games. I'm not even intending to play Halo 4, the Medal of Honor games actively offend me, and I don't intend to even sample the next Bioshock retread. The idea is sound, and I generally like the action part of the equation, but first-person shooters are so ubiquitous that I don't pay them much attention any more.

So why am I addicted to Borderlands 2? Why is it taking up all my time, so that I can't seem to get anything else accomplished? What is so damned fun about this particular shooter, when I am so bored by shooters in general?

There are a few reasons. It's funny. The setting is a riot. The story is interesting, with amusing characters and diabolical villains and tough heroes. There are varying missions, thrilling treasure hunts, and entertaining minigames. There's a tangible improvement system that gives the gives the game a sense of being a role-playing game. And best of all, the co-op game is awesome.

Borderlands 2 is (unsurprisingly) the sequel to Borderlands, which pretty much has all the same stuff - humor, action, story, and great co-op. Like the original, it takes place on the planet of Pandora, a far-off toilet of a planet overrun with bandits and mean critters and diabolical corporate soldiers. You can pick from a diverse cast of characters - the ninja, the siren, the commando or the gunzerker, plus the $10 DLC mechromancer. Each plays very differently, with bonuses for particular weapons and kick-ass special abilities, like capturing enemies in bubbles of pure energy or deploying automatic turret guns to cover you while you reload.

So you pick a badass killer, you start hunting for the mystical vault, and then you dive head-first into an orgy of off-center humor and deadly opponents. There are scags and bullymongs, varkids and spiderants, bandits and robots. Some run right at you, swinging for the fences. Others throw rocks or fire shotguns. Still others wrap you in webs or cover you with gooey acid. There are lots of different enemies, and even more guns.

Yeah, guns. From Maliwan's fire-spitting sniper rifles to Jakob's devastating rocket launchers, you'll find hundreds of guns. Some will suck, and you'll sell them for pocket money. Some will be so impressive that you'll have a new favorite. A huge part of the fun is looking for the rarest and most powerful guns, comparing your SMGs to find the best fire rate, reload speed, magazine size and damage rating. Basically, there's a huge variety of great loot, and finding it sometimes more fun than actually using it.

As you improve, you'll get better guns, not to mention getting a lot better at a lot of things. You'll regenerate health when your shields are full, or light people on fire when you punch them, or reload your guns whenever you kill a bandit. This is an over-the-top game, and you play over-the-top heroes. And if you're lucky, you'll play it with someone else.

Borderlands 2 has possibly the best couch co-op I've ever played in a shooting game. My wife and I are loving it. You can drive while your partner shoots. You can heal each other when you get shot down. You can share ammo and money and loot and experience. You'll snipe from above while your partner goes in close with a 12-gauge. You can catch your enemies in a crossfire. And you can do it all without having to get online, because this game works great when you're both on the same TV.

In fact, I think the main reason I'm addicted to Borderlands 2 is because it gives me something genuinely fun to do with my wife. She's got the mechromancer and I've got the commando. She drives better than I do, and I shoot the rockets like they were on a wire. We laugh at the jokes and swear when we get killed, and spend hour after hour blasting the piss out Hyperion security droids and mutated super-bugs.

So while I really did mean to play that Schlock Mercenary game - it looks like a lot of fun - I don't feel bad at all. I am having a ludicrously good time, spending time with my wife, and irritating my teenage kids enough that they go hang out with friends instead of watching television all night. It's a win-win-win. It's Borderlands 2, and it's even better than the first one.

Transmetropolitan sounds like it could be really gay. And not 'gay' the way we say it when we mean something is lame, but 'gay' the way we say it when we're describing a guy who likes to wear hot pants and mesh shirts. The title alone threw me. I knew nothing about the book at all, but passed on it when I first saw it on Comixology because I thought it sounded queer as a three-dollar bill.

Then my friend, out of the blue, recommended it. He didn't provide any more information, but just mentioning it was enough to at least make me check into it. And it turns out, this has nothing to do with men wearing eyeliner, outside of the occasional character who might be a man wearing eyeliner. It's actually a sci-fi book about a newspaper reporter in the future we all thought we were going to see when I was in college.

Spider Jerusalem is an anti-social guerilla journalist with lots of tattoos and some rather trippy spectacles. He reports on the group of silly bastards who inject alien DNA to perform plastic surgery that would make Michael Jackson look like a normal human being. Then he writes about the cops who are looking for any excuse they can find to kill those goofy lunatics. He pisses off everyone who matters and uses an illegal weapon to give the president of the United States a bad case of irritable bowel syndrome (literally - he doesn't kill him, or anything, he just makes him have to poop).

As you read through Transmetropolitan, a few things might pop out at you. First, this is not a 'story' book. You're not following the adventures of a man on a mission. You're not seeing recurring villains, spandex uniforms or super powers. You're not reading an unfolding, continuing saga. What you see in Transmetropolitan is razor-sharp wit and brutal satire, with a giant side helping of social commentary.

See, Spider Jerusalem is not just some beat-tromping cub reporter. He's one of the most famous men in The City, a celebrity against his own will whose powerful writing exposes corruption and greed and stupidity and injustice. Spider is willing and able to dish out violence to get to the truth, and he has virtually no qualms about laying down a beating or a casual shooting if it gets him his story.

Spider is an interesting, if bizarre character. He is best described as mentally unstable, or if you're feeling unforgiving, outright psychotic. He adopts a defective cat that has two faces and owns a vending machine with a drug addiction. He has a spider tattooed on his head and will happily put out a cigarette in a man's eye. He values nothing so much as digging through to the truth, except possibly inflating his oversized ego (which is largely compensating for an enormous amount of self-loathing).

Speaking of profanity, which we were not, Transmetropolitan was published under Vertigo, the sub-species of DC that they opened so they could use grown-up words and occasional boobies. Spider is fond of his f-bombs, and his stories sometimes take him into the company of ladies of low moral virtue. This is not a comic book for your kiddies, unless you're that strain of parent who doesn't pay attention to what his children are reading.

However, even without the harsh language, bloody brawls or bared nipples, Transmetropolitan is still not intended for immature audiences. The subject matter sets it off - it's raw and smart and satirical, and if you're reading to see how Superman beats up Doc Ock (hint: he has to use fuchsia kryptonite), you're going to be very disappointed. The book addresses bigger concepts than you might be used to seeing - consumerism, class struggle, religion, and drugs all get the Spider Jerusalem treatment. The result is a series of powerful statements that are even more potent if you're clever enough to see the underlying contempt that Warren Ellis has for a whole lot of things we take for granted.

Speaking of Warren Ellis, which we actually were, this dude can write. He's not just entertaining. He's got chops that make Tarantino look like a high-school kid with a Trapper Keeper full of stuff he copied off the bathroom wall at a truck stop. His dialog is sometimes so intense and rapid-fire that it's difficult to read it without hearing it in your head. You'll want to stop and back up to read it again, because you'll miss nuances in the flood of brilliance. The City is suffering an information overload, and sometimes the words are just background decor - but they're never unimportant.

The art is the same way. Darick Robertson's pencils are overflowing with detail, to the point of distraction, and that's obviously deliberate. When you read Transmetropolitan, you'll want to go slow, to absorb all the chaos, the bag ladies in the alleys, the body-modders behind the traffic jams, the ludicrous billboards and flashy street signs. The City feels like a huge, ugly, angry place, the kind of place where humanity is lost because there's just too much humanity. The writing is intense and intelligent, but the art is what makes the book complete. A lesser illustrator would have allowed Transmetropolitan to be related through the dialog, but Robertson makes every panel pull you deeper into this mess of a metropolis.

Transmetropolitan is angry and funny and bitingly smart. The maturity of the writing is staggering - even without the cussing and nekkid chicks, it's firmly targeting intelligent adults. The art is amazing. All things considered, I'm not sure how the hell I missed this gem. If you like your science fiction with a side of vitriol, you'll love it. If you just want to see Wolverine wear tights and say 'bub' a lot, don't bother.

I found Transmetropolitan on Comixology, but I figure you can find it almost anywhere, if you look around.

Cambridge Games Factory is kind of an interesting little game company. For a publisher with such a small library, they have some surprisingly good games,especially considering the fact that their art has traditionally been gleaned largely from bad clip art collections that were overused in 1997. The jewel in their crown is a smart, engaging game called Glory to Rome, a game that was actually less fun because of horrible design and hideous art. It's actually very impressive that a game this unsightly grew such a loyal fanbase.

And that loyal fanbase has been amply rewarded. Last week, Cambridge Games sent a candy bar to every person at BGG who ever got really angry at people who pointed out how ugly Glory to Rome was. If you didn't get yours, don't write to CGF. Send an email to Octavian at BGG and demand your candy. Throw in some harsh language. He responds well to that.

As an additional reward, Cambridge Games also went back to the visual drawing board and completely reworked everything about Glory to Rome that didn't work. There's new art, a new design, and it's all printed on really nice linen cards with giant playing boards. It even comes in an actual box, as opposed to the crappy plastic clamshell they used to use,which was probably leftover when a manufacturer of feminine hygiene products went belly up.

And the result is pure dead sexy. The box is larger, mostly black, and features an imperious Roman eagle. Every card now has original art that, unlike the original, does not interfere with the way the card works. The different ways you can play each card are obvious and easy to see, with clear color differentiation and big symbols where they need to have big symbols. Not only is this an exceptionally attractive game (and not just compared to the original, which was seriously coyote ugly, but it's objectively attractive), the new design makes the game easier to learn and easier to play.

Speaking of play, the graphics aren't the only thing that got attention. The rules to Glory to Rome worked great already, but there were some people who wanted to see a little more throat cutting. Cambridge heard those people and added a few cards to the new game. These cards are clearly designed to make Glory to Rome far more interactive and bloody, and the best part is, if you liked the old game, you don't have to play with the new, blood-in-the-water rules. The cards that you remove, and the ones that replace them, are clearly marked and easy to find, so it's simple to just swap 'em out and play the way you like.

There's no point in rewriting a full review of Glory to Rome. I already reviewed it once, and I loved it. Basically, this new version is great, and a massive improvement over the original. I still kind of wish they had nabbed the art off the Italian version, but this does look really, really good, so I can't really complain. And neither should you, if you want your candy bar.

Summary

2-4 players

Pros:
Looks amazing
Far better material for the cards
New rules options allows for more spirited game play


Cons:
Still pretty Euro

Still might be a little unbalancing at points, if you're a sissy



Noble Knight Games is sold out of the Black Box Glory to Rome, but if you watch for it, they'll probably get more.

AVE ORANGE JULIUS

I've been married a while now. It's eighteen years this coming Saturday, and we wanted to spend the night at a bed & breakfast nearby. The problem was that there was a huge wedding party at the place we wanted to go, so we went a week early. Which was last night.

In case you're completely unaware of, well, anything, a bed & breakfast is like a hotel, except usually they're just somebody's house and they let you sleep upstairs. Breakfast is generally assumed to be included (thus the name), and it's better than when you stay at the Motel 6 and they have gross donuts in the lobby. The rooms are more luxuriously appointed, and the idea is that your stay feels more personalized.

Other than that, though, you're pretty much just in a hotel.

We've actually been staying at bed & breakfast places for a while. We've checked out a few, from the place way out in the middle of No Place, Texas to the gated compound in the middle of the big city. We have started to figure out the things about a B&B that make it really appealing, and the things that make you just kind of wish you had stayed at the Hilton.
There are lots of features you might want out of a good B&B. The bed is important - it needs to be big and comfy, because let's face it, that's in the name. If the bed sucks, you're just showing up for breakfast. You're there because you need some time away from the kids, the pets, the bill collectors, the probation officers, and the in-laws (you may not have all those things. I'm just covering the bases) and your escape should include a really good night's sleep.

Another important reason you go to a B&B is for the surroundings. The place we went last night is in the middle of the city, which we chose because we wanted to be close to our home, and because we wanted to be able to just run out real quick and grab dinner so that we could bring it back and watch a movie while we ate. The whole area is gated and fenced, so you've got some real privacy, and it was ridiculously quiet, especially considering we were in the middle of the city.

Usually, though, we prefer to make the two-hour drive to the place out in the boonies, where we can go hiking before dinner, hit the outdoor hot tub after dinner, and watch the sun come up from the spacious front porch before breakfast. This particularly awesome B&B has a llama that will follow you around when you go for a walk on the trails. It's incredibly cool to be trailed by a 7-foot-tall herbivore while you're on a nature walk.

You also want to consider the space you get. At last night's spot, we had a whole cottage, including a spacious dining room table which we used to play Glory to Rome and Mice & Mystics (yes, we're nerds - we went on our anniversary vacation and played games). At our preferred, country spot, the room doesn't have a table - just a bed and a bathtub - but there's a lovely common room where you can go downstairs and chat with the other people staying there.

Another neat feature of many B&B's is the communal breakfast. This is where they go, 'breakfast is at eight,' and everyone shows up, and you eat whatever they bring out and talk with the other guests before you all leave and never see each other again. There's a down-homey sense of community and, I don't know, humanity that feels like a lost art. This is another thing about staying in a B&B that makes it better than a hotel - in a hotel, if anyone talks to you in the lobby, you duck your head and put your hand on your pocket to make sure they don't steal your wallet.

Probably the thing that sets a B&B apart from a regular hotel more than anything else is the personal touch. There's no concierge or guest services attendant. There's just the lady that owns the house, and she'll see if she's got any aspirin, but would Tylenol be OK? If you forget your razor at a hotel, they can probably give you a cheap disposable. At a B&B, they'll tell you where to find the convenience store, and say hi to Jerome while you're in there, he's a friend of the family. Get sick at a hotel, they'll send room service with some Imodium. Get sick at a B&B, the guy who runs the place will whip you up some chicken soup and see if you need extra pillows, and here's a quilt my grandmother made, and should I call the family doctor?

I really like taking my wife to B&B's. We always have fun, and usually come back very relaxed and happy. Then we walk through the door and find out the cat pooped on the landing, the kids spilled orange soda on the kitchen floor and there's a roach stuck in the puddle, and they ate all the Pop-Tarts while we were gone.

So happy anniversary to me!

The best TV shows have a message, a statement that gives you something to ponder, a lesson to teach. And sometimes, even bad TV has a message. Like Revolution, in which the message is 'only attractive people will survive the apocalypse. And they will have regular access to hot showers.'

Revolution looked really cool in the trailers. All the electricity fails at the same time, and the United States is thrown into complete anarchy. One man knows why the lights went out, but he is apparently not in much of a mood to do anything about it. Another man is a douchebag who has established a really mean government and runs around killing people. And in the middle of it all, there's a pretty girl who has a crosssbow and hardly ever bothers to use it.

The story is even really fun. See, the dickbag president guy outlaws guns so that only he will have them, so everyone has bows and swords. It's all swashbuckley, because the heroes have to get into swordfights and shoot arrows instead of just blasting everybody with firearms. The first episode has this really cool fight in a hotel where the lead bad-ass guy beats the stuffing out of, like, a dozen guys. And totally kills most of them.

There are all the elements of a classic Sunday matinee pulp serial. There's a rebellion against the bastards in the militia. There's a murdered father and a kidnapped brother. There's a lost uncle with a secret past. There's even a nerd, although that's not particularly Zorro-ish.

In fact, although I'm going to spend the last half of this review saying bad things about Revolution, I really am enjoying it. I love how they show nature recapturing the wilds of our nation. The action scenes are pretty exciting. The bad guys are despicable and the good guys are properly heroic, and while the show tends to be a little predictable, it's a fun ride.

OK, now the bad stuff. For starters, it's on NBC. I honestly don't know what possessed me to watch a show on a major network, especially a serial, because they all get cancelled before they can finish the story (except for Lost, which should be a good sign, because Revolution is also a JJ Abrams story). And networks refuse to hire any actors or actresses who couldn't quit their day jobs and be underwear models, so everybody on the show is absurdly, unbelievably good-looking.

When you're watching Revolution, you may be reminded of another apocalyptic show that's a hell of a lot of fun - The Walking Dead. And if you happen to be watching both shows, you'll see where Revolution makes all the mistakes that Walking Dead avoids. The characters in Revolution are ridiculously attractive, and always very clean. They also never get scarred - sure, they are terrifically violent, perpetually getting into knife fights or fisticuffs, and yet they all manage to avoid taking shots to the face. They also have no problem finding hair gel.

The story is equally sanitized. Moral dilemmas are few and far between. Good guys will always save the bad guys when they're hanging from the edge of the cliff. The heroes are very heroic. The bad guys are mustache-twirling madmen. Deaths are profound and, among people with lots of lines, very rare. Seriously, it's like the writers are actively avoiding watching The Walking Dead, for fear it would give them any good ideas.

So Revolution is five or six episodes along - enough to make an informed decision about whether it's watchable - and I am rolling my eyes in disbelief at least once a week. Sometimes more. So why am I still watching it? Simple - I have too much free time.

No, that's not it. I mean, I do have too much free time, and  should really finish painting all these Warhammer Quest figures (the insurance gave me money for a replacement copy, but I couldn't find one that was painted). But I could watch something else, something smart and deep. But I watch Revolution because it's fun. That's it.

Yes, I can see all the stupid parts. Yes, the logical inconsistencies are almost painful. Yes, it's as shallow as a fourth-grader telling fart jokes. But sometimes, when my family is sitting around the living room eating take-out, it's fun to dial up some kid-friendly entertainment and let my mind take a vacation for an hour. Or really, more like 42 minutes - I DVR everything and just zip through the commercials.

Besides, not everything can be The Walking Dead. Can you imagine trying to eat a plate of chicken fried rice while you were watching decaying people chewing chunks out of people who get to bathe once a year? Sometimes, it's OK for television to be dumb, if it's fun. You won't find yourself at the edge of your seat when you watch Revolution. You won't wonder if the hero girl is going to get killed. You won't go to work the next day and excitedly ask your co-worker, 'so, did you see it last night?' because it will promptly leave your head the next time you see strawberry taffy. You'll have fun for as long as it takes to get to the end credits, and maybe be reminded of watching old Three Musketeers serials while you mowed through a bucket of popcorn.

If you want to get caught up on Revolution, you can probably find the first several episodes on Hulu or OnDemand, or maybe even at the NBC website. It's still in the first season, so you can't find it on Netflix or anything. It's worth your time, if you have too much time in the first place.

I have to do penance. Horrible, painful penance. Because I have done the thing that makes reviewers everywhere look like greedy douchebags - I asked for a game, got it in the mail, and never reviewed it. For, like, eight years or something. To express my shame, I will force myself to live with pygmy goats and eat only frozen waffles.

Eight years ago (give or take two or three) I requested a copy of Columbia Games' Wizard Kings. It looks cool, with a built-in fog-of-war element made possible by hidden blocks and a fantasy theme and geomorphic boards, and so I was thrilled when they sent it to me. Not thrilled enough to play it, I guess, because not only did I forget to review the game, I forgot I ever got one. I was reminded when, in a fit of unjustifiable stupidity, I asked for a copy - again. This was six months ago, and they reminded me that they had already sent me the game. So I went to look for the review, and it's not there. I never wrote it.

So I bought another one. And I have to say, I kind of wish I hadn't asked for it eight years ago. After receiving a review copy, then not writing about it, then forgetting I ever got it, I really want to write a positive review to make up for all that. But I can't, because I really don't like this game at all. I feel so bad that I'm going to have to wear a hairnet made of stinging earwigs.

Wizard Kings really does look like it has a lot of potential. It comes with seven different armies in one box, and after you finish putting stickers on all the blocks, you could play all kinds of battles with them. There are four different maps in the box, so you can build all different kinds of islands to fight over, and the rules are relatively uncomplicated.

When you start playing, it keeps looking cool. You're trying to take cities from your enemies so that you can win, and there's a lot of maneuvering and positioning and timing your attacks for maximum potency. There are stacking limits and movement limits and special terrain effects, and this makes for a pretty cool setup.

Until you get in a fight. It's all downhill after that.

This seems like it should be pretty cool. You set up, take turns whacking each other with sharp sticks, rolling dice and counting your dead. Only the odds of hitting each other is so ridiculously low with so many of the units in the game that you're practically sitting there watching the dice flip you the bird. We seriously had fight after fight where nobody ever got hurt and then someone had to go home because Mom was calling them for dinner. It was incredibly frustrating - you send a big stack of warriors into the woods to bust a cap into some enemy ass, and then you just take turns rolling dice and cussing.

The thing is, this dice thing is the only problem I have with the game. The maps work great. They could be prettier, but they work great. The blocks are awesome, because you can track unit strength just by turning the block. You can cast spells and shoot fireballs, raise skeletons and summon orcs, and do it all on a blood-soaked field... except that hardly anyone actually gets killed, so the only blood on the field happened when the amazon charmer cuts her legs shaving.

It's really not as bad as I'm making it sound. We did have casualties, every now and then. Not a lot, or anything, and not nearly enough to be satisfying, but once or twice, somebody did die. It just wasn't enough to make the game fun. You maneuver and position and wait for the right moment to strike, then realize that your entire battle plan was based on a bunch of guys who couldn't hit ground if they fell off the roof.

I'm actually kind of considering giving Wizard Kings another try, but just adding one to the combat value for every unit. This would make battles go crazy fast, and probably give too much advantage to the faster guys, but it would at least make the fights end in a body count. Plus, maybe then I would like the game, and I could come out here and go, 'Hey, it turns out, I don't actually mind this game!' And then I could take all the carpet tacks out of my pillow case.

 Summary

2-7 players (yes, really!)

Pros:
Cool maps that can be combined to make neat battlegrounds
Clever use of blocks means you can track changing stats without any kind of accounting
Mostly a pretty good game

Cons:
Any pros are completely negated by the dice mechanic that ends in pacifism

If you want to give this one a whirl, you can get it from Columbia Game:
DOES NOT COME WITH STINGING EARWIGS