With the world coming to Denver, and after the pre-event tournaments held on the west and east coasts of the United States, it was felt that a write-up on how to play the system and what you need to keep in mind while doing so would be useful for attendees who are new to the declining-centers concept. Instead of forcing you to learn these "how to play" rules yourself after playing a game or two -- at which time you usually discover that the system actually works and works well -- we're going to be kind to you and impart our collective wisdom. The declining-centers rule is intended to speed up the game, and to allow more of the full range of game-play in less time than would otherwise be possible. It does this by forcing players to make endgame-like choices earlier than would otherwise be necessary. In a sense, the ARMADA system can be viewed as something of a marriage of the full rulebook system (games played to agreed draws, with smaller draws scored higher) to the predominant system used on the European continent (C-Diplo -- in which games run to a fixed end-year, with the goal not to eliminate players but dominate them as determined by supply center count). Manus likes to say that through this marriage, the system rewards the full range of talents of a Diplomacy player, forces a player to use those talents and punishes the player who doesn't. This document covers some of the pitfalls common to players new to the system. So take our advice and learn the easy way from those who have learned the hard way that, you know what, Manus may be right! The Forbidden FruitAs we said, the point of the declining-centers rule is to "hasten the endgame." This means that it is possible that you will be in a position of having to stop a player from claiming a solitary victory earlier than you may be accustomed to doing. For many players, this situation offers up a Forbidden Fruit -- the temptation to throw centers to a player other than the leader, in an effort to create a tie and by doing so prevent a declining-centers victory. The rules now offer a deterrent to this, in that under the right conditions, two players tied in supply center count can agree to end the game as a two-way draw without the consent of the smaller players. If you simply give some of your centers away to create a tie, this means risking watching the two tied players take the hefty point award for a two-way draw, and leaving you with even fewer points than you would have gotten if you tried to stop England, even if you failed after another game-year or two. Even without the two-way draw possibility, handing centers to another player to create a tie is bad play, for the simple reason that this Forbidden Fruit really is poison. The biggest danger of "dot-tossing" is overkill; it is very difficult, in the heat of a game, to give up the precise number of centers that will allow your savior to stop the victory by tying the leader -- in hopes of either extending the game for another year or forcing the leader to agree to a large draw -- without giving him enough centers to win the game himself. At the very least, creating a tie means creating a second player who poses a dangerous threat to claim victory. It is not unheard of, even when the victory conditions required a victor to top his nearest rival by at least a whopping two centers, for a player to claim a victory in part because his unthinking allies overzealously tossed dots in his direction to stop the perceived leader, because the leader lost a center unexpectedly or the eventual winner grabbed one more than his alliance agreed he should. By now, we hope The Forbidden Fruit looks pretty shriveled. Don't bite The Forbidden Fruit. It bites back.
The Small Time And The Big BoysThere's yet another reason that The Forbidden Fruit is bad play: the sinner who falls for this temptation is depriving himself of an endgame treat that is almost always still available, that being The Small Time. We all have to pretend to enjoy The Small Time. And we shouldn't really be pretending. The ability to parlay two or three or four centers into a meaningful role in the outcome of the game is a truly joyful thing, and one mark of a serious player. The mistake that most people make, as we shall see, is in assuming that the hastened endgame necessarily deprives one of the joys of The Small Time. But this is fallacious. Think about it: how can the best way to leverage your little bit of power be to hand over that power to other players? Heed the lesson and don't toss your dots. The scoring system used at this tournament should make this clear. If you are part of a draw, you earn exactly as many points as everyone with whom you share the draw. If you can play the game well enough to force the other players to agree that they cannot eliminate you, and a draw is voted, you and your one little center holding on for dear life will reap the exact same point award as the largest players on the board. If you play the dot-tossing game, ignoring the dangers we're warning you about, guess what you get when it goes horribly wrong. Nothing. An example from the pre-event tournaments is instructive. An eight-center Austria (who obviously hadn't read this document) explained that he intended to remain in the draw (an expected three-way) by throwing his dots to a nine-center Germany and an eight-center England, keeping both from gaining the decisive advantage and forcing them to fear the possibility of the other taking the victory enough that they would agree to draw the game while he still survived. He began to carry out his plan, first intentionally, and then less so. Austria had quickly weakened himself so much that he could no longer help one of the Big Boys counter the attacks being made on him by the other Big Boy. The result was a fifteen-center German victory. But Austria had two dots left, by cracky! A Very Good British Player (you can tell he's British because of how he spells "realize") has identified the crux of the biscuit (or is it a scone?) here:
Is It The Endgame Already?The same Very Good British Player points out the primary need for the educational document you're now reading: players who are new to the system simply fail to recognize when they need to realize that a victory is imminent. New players don't seem to remember that with reducing centers, not only can you claim a victory sooner, but so can your allies and enemies. Which means you need to be on guard much earlier. Luckily, this is easy enough to rectify; watch the supply center sheet, and do what every good Diplomacy player must do -- pay attention to the whole board. When one player is within three or four or even five centers of what the victory condition will be in two years, it's probably time to act. Balance the board (the mantra of C-Diplo players everywhere) and keep your place in the draw secure (the mantra of non-C-Diplo players everywhere). Adjust your measure of the lead-time that you'll need to prevent anyone (other than you, of course) from claiming a victory by carefully observing the mood and inclinations of all of the players. You need to be thinking about how hard it will be to get each player to join an effort to form a line to stop any other player who poses a victory threat. Admittedly, knowing the mind of a player is not easy. But that's Diplomacy, and if you fail to know the other players and work with them to create your own advantage, you fail at Diplomacy. As long as you are doing the things you should be doing anyway in any game of Diplomacy, you will at least have a clue to the player's brainwaves. If players near the leader seem to be having a hard time letting go of their mutual animosity (to the leader's benefit), it will be best to act earlier. The leader (which is hopefully you) should be constantly trying to ensure that the coalition cannot stop him, by turning the other players against each other and keeping them focused away from his victory threat until it's too late. Again, just as in standard Diplomacy. Most solos in standard Diplomacy occur because the losers fail to work together to stop the leader, instead bickering endlessly because one of them stole Trieste in 1902. Let bygones be bygones as soon as you need to do so -- and remember that in this system, you often need to do so much quicker. Remember: any piece of any draw, however small, is better than being on the wrong end of a victory. Stay focused on the prize, avoid petty entanglements that allow larger powers to make hay, and pay attention to the details.
The Hands Of TimeAnother piece of the WDC rules that has caused some angst among North American players especially is the timing rules. A master clock, with Australasian timing and drop-dead deadlines, is pretty intimidating for some players. Dealing with time remains a significant challenge for some players. The central clock has rapidly become the tournament standard in a great many venues worldwide. The games are eminently fair, and no one can protest, "sure, he won his game and I only drew mine, but that's because his table agreed to twenty minute negotiation periods and we only had fifteen, so he had five extra minutes every season to strategize and persuade." Some players who are new to strictly timed play fear it. It usually takes about two games before most players who came in hating the central clock get the hang of it. It's difficult to deal with it at first, if you've become accustomed (over years of social play) to taking your time. The winner of this event will be someone who can manage all the elements of Diplomacy, including the clock.
In ConclusionThe WDC rules were, in the first instance, and still are, a labor of love by Manus. A great many other prominent players have assisted him in their refinement. The rules do what they were meant to do. You get the same experiences -- even more intensely -- that you get in a full Diplomacy game. The rules work. And if you heed the lessons in this document, they will work well for you. Most important of all, though, let's have fun with them.
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"The Committee to Subvert Manus" c/o Manus Hand (manus@devel.diplom.org) If you wish to e-mail feedback on this article to the author, click on the letter above. |
