Dev Take Tuesday - Taking Time to Talk Timers

Today I’m going to level some criticism at a game I absolutely adore: Mansions of Madness. This hybrid board game and digital app lets you play as investigators in a horrific Lovecraftian story. The use of a digital app allows for randomization in every scenario you play and automates some of the vexing “bookkeeping” required in a complex board game. I love the spooky ambiance created by the game, and the combat and investigation mechanics are relatively simple but fun. It’s a game where the investigators often lose to the monsters, but we still have a blast while losing—a wonderful quality in any type of game.

However, in a few of our losses I’ve felt a bit cheated, and that’s the direct result of a decision to use a hidden timer as a failure state. In the case of Mansions of Madness, which is a turn-based game, the timer is a certain number of rounds instead of a countdown clock or hourglass. Timers can be quite useful in game design. They generate tension. They maintain momentum and prevent stagnant gameplay. But I think the timer in Mansions of Madness works against the game for two reasons: the information is largely hidden from the player, and the timer counteracts the game’s core.

When playing our last scenario of Mansions of Madness, “The Cult of Sentinel Hill,” we did get occasional vague reminders that time was limited. But there was no indication of how much time we actually had, just a hazy idea that the world would probably most likely end soon if we didn’t hustle. Whenever a designer considers hiding information from players, I think they should have a good reason why that information should remain hidden. It’s certainly possible that whoever decided on a timer hid it because they felt like a countdown of remaining turns would break immersion in the game’s world: that leads me to my next point.

The best moments in Mansions of Madness come while you uncover the game map and investigate the clues scattered around the map. Here, the game shines as you are drawn into its atmosphere. Clever writing and clean game mechanics involving skill checks and dice rolls make you really feel like a team of investigators with different areas of expertise. Every great game will help players chase a certain feeling, and—to me, at least—Mansions of Madness is about discovery and intrigue. A timer inherently combats discovery, the core of the game. I’d like to figure out what the violet light in that rowboat is and why that massive tree is covered in hostile whippoorwills, but to beat the game we need to move past them (or move past some of them, actually, since an unknown amount of clues and evidence are needed for victory).  

Shamelessly showing off one of the monsters I've painted.

I understand that the timer helps limit the time investment in an already lengthy game and also provides a mechanical tie-in for the inevitable dread of Lovecraft’s horrific, cataclysmic monsters. But I feel a more fitting and less frustrating mechanic would be an exponentially growing amount of monsters. Sure, in the end your team might get surrounded and overwhelmed, but that gives the players more agency and closure than an unexpected text box saying your time ran out.