In the first podcast, learn about the names that Sebastian submitted (but weren’t used), the book behind the game and a little story about how the dice tower was born.

• 00:18 Two Games One Name
• 01:48 Physical resolution
• 03:04 The Running Man
• 05:05 Dice tower
  

Back last October, Nathan Paoletta started the 2G1N competition. Joe Prince’s Hell 4 Leather was the overall winner and my Hell for Leather won Best Dark Game. Now, for the first time, we’re bundling these two bad-ass games together with a huge discount. Included in this bundle:

• Joe Prince’s Hell 4 Leather (Winner of the 2G1N competition 2009)
• Sebastian Hickey’s Hell For Leather (Winner of the Best Dark Game, 2G1N 2009)
• Hell for Leather Deluxe Target
• Hell for Leather PDF

That has a street value of €28. We’re giving it away for €19. There’s limited stock, so grab your copy today!

Order Joe Prince’s Hell 4 Leather and save €9!! Includes both the RPG Books, the HfL PDF & the HfL Target!

When I received the book, I got straight onto the phone to my mother. Weird eh? The fact is, my mother (a great reader of historical fiction), has always known but not quite understood my passion for games-as-stories. A Taste for Murder looked, to me, like a great re-opener for that ageing conversation.

We talked for some time about the game’s concept: We create characters in a Jeeves & Wooster story, one of us has done murder, but no one knows who the culprit is. During play, uncovering motive through heated dialogue, we end up with two suspects—and it’s not until the last few minutes that we learn which of us has done the deed. Wow. Great concept. Think of it like Cluedo + Drama x Exquisitve Corpse. It’s the type of game that produces witty theatre.

It got me excited: Finally, I had found a story game for real people. That is, I found a game that I could play with the real people in my life: my friends, the partners of my friends, my family, maybe even my mum (“We can try it at Christmas,” she had suggested enthusiastically).

So, for the rest of the review, now you know how it affected me personally, I’m going to speak to the writer to highlight his strengths and point out where I got confused. Let’s start using wine speak.

Nose (Cover, Interior & Writing)

The cover is clean, tasteful and nostalgic, and printed on good card stock. Anyone who’s ever read a Penguin Classic will smile, and everyone else will wonder which subject you’re studying—which, for closet geeks, makes it easy to read in public.

The interior is low impact. One (non-gamer) bystander told me “it’s not visually appealing.” I found that interesting. Isn’t a nice layout of text visually appealing? Have we come so far that every book needs to be a picture book?

As for the text, it is written with an informal voice, it is easy to digest, the examples are often witty, and the grammar is bang on. A pleasure to consume.

A simple bouquet of oak and olives with a hint of blackboard chalk and summer gardens.

Attack (Innovation, Inspiration & Excitement)

“Halfway through the game, there will be a murder. At the end of the game, when the murderer is revealed, it will be a surprise to everyone!”

Specifically, the mystery is developed collaboratively by the players in stages through the game. First, players build the foundations of the story in the opening negotiation of character relationships. One player says “your character used to beat me,” another player says, “and you and I are lovers!” etc. By the end of it, you are swimming in a sea of motive.

Next, through play, characters are pushed to desperation as they are forced into actions against their will. Later, after the murder is done, the murdered player takes the role of the detective (a al Poirot or Miss Marple) and, through investigation, insidious motives are discovered. At certain stages during the game, you are forced to “make the relationship (with the victim) more sinister and hurtful than it was before.” What was once “he used to beat me” becomes “he sexually abused me” becomes “I was pregnant with his baby” becomes “his last beating caused a miscarriage” …until two characters fill up their motive chart and the detective tries to determine which of the two was the real murderer!

All of this makes sense to me in the text. Walmsley’s patience comes through the page as he chats about the ideas, exhibits them in play, and exposes me to their merits. I never feel lost.

Also, there’s an interesting colouring mechanism in which players are encouraged to engender one or two specific themes (determined by a kind of mini, transient oracle) during their narrative arguments. It seems to evoke a kind of competitive drama (there is a form of voting and reward).

There may be a danger that gamist players will corrupt the scenes (slightly averted by a “makes-no-sense” clause), but I think even then the scenes will remain comedic, which suits the melodramatic timbre of the game’s overarching theme. I wonder if this rewarding of dramatic extremity was intentional.

Backing up this exciting innovation is a heap of gorgeous colour, including a treasure of dinnertime topics, from the commentary on naming etiquette to the pre-war recipe book. Top marks for research.

Clean, baked flavours like apple pie and butter, with a melt of complex flavours oozing richly under the tongue.

Body (Assistance, Choice & Experience)

Until I play, I can’t comment on the body.

Finish (Clarity, Utility & Support)

A Taste for Murder requires four players, a pile of six-sided dice and some photocopies. Certainly not a bag breaker. Couple those components with some tidy rules, and I don’t think you’ll frown even once during the first gander.

Nevertheless, there’s this enormous three-page contents list at the start of the book… and no index! That’s my pet hate. I realise that the art deco layout required it, but, by god, I would have preferred more fusion: art deco layout, contemporary reference. Balancing that, the summary pages are very tidy, so I don’t think I’d need to write up a cheat sheet or check the rules much, and the character playsheets are so simple you could draw them on a piece of paper in less than a minute (if you didn’t have a copier handy).

Furthermore, there’s an extensive library of play support. From the ten-page example of play, to the play advice, to the list of don’ts, Graham Walmsley has made a huge effort to toss useful gaming wisdom into the stew. For example, “when Investigating, beware of answering your own question,” “when you Influence, ask for things that are bad for the other person or that you know they won’t want. Push their buttons,” and all of the examples of Some Bad Influences on page 43. Support, support, support. That’s what separates the conservatives from the innovators.

Well balanced, elegant and crisp with a late hint of lemon and spice.

Conclusion

So, despite the lack of play, I’m confident that Graham Walmsley’s A Taste for Murder ends up being a 2005 Defaix Chablis:

Goes well with Lobster, roast chicken, grilled swordfish, Cobb salad and cheeses

• 00:10 How does Hell for Leather tell stories?
• 00:17 VIDEO LINK FOR THE DICE TOWER!
• 00:55 What assistance do the game mechanics provide?
• 05:37 Are there meaningful choices during play?
• 09:42 What kind of experience does Hell for Leather deliver?

Mission: Nice. Honest. Helpful.

Though I won’t be nasty (selfish), I will be honest. I’ll highlight the things I really like and I’ll criticise to be helpful.

Scoring!

Ever been to wine tasting? They talk about things like “nose,” “attack,” “body” and “finish:” Four components of appreciation for a very complex and wordy analysis—a fitting tool for game review?

Nose
In a wine, that’s the warmth and complexity of the bouquet, the openness of the flavours and the mutability in their expression. So, for a game review, you’d be looking for a sharp cover (impressive, stylish, cool), a strong interior (nice layout, sexy art) and warm writing (yummy words).

Attack
In a wine, that’s the front flavours, the initial pop of sapidity as the wine spills over your tongue. A game with a strong attack will have lots of innovation (cleverness), inspiration (popping with colour) and excitement (I want to play now!)

Body
In a wine, that’s the texture of the liquid, the oiliness in your mouth. A full-bodied game will, during play, provide creative assistance, meaningful choices and a consistent experience.

Finish
In a wine, that’s the balance of the flavour, how long it floats and soars in your mouth and throat, and how it changes, simplifies or swirls with complexity. A well-balanced game will have good clarity (digestible rules), good utility (reference, layout and cheat sheets) and good support (play advice and meta wisdom).

In the next few days, I’ll be reviewing A Taste for Murder by Graham Walmsley with this method. Back soon!

It lead to eyeball juice being squirted everywhere, a spleen rupturing against a windscreen and, if I remember it right, a man weeping as he realised his impending death.”

Finally, after yonks of work and waiting, Hell for Leather is ready to order. So, get your sexy, blood soaked ass to the shop and grab a copy.

If you’re quick, I’ll sign it.