Unexpected Archon

Each player moves their pieces until they meet. Then the field switches to an open playfield where the combat takes place.

In 1983, Archon: The Light and the Dark was released. At least three years later, I started playing it on the Commodore 64.

At first glance, it looks like a chess variant. On each side of the board are two rows of pieces, either dark or light. They’re on a grid, but each square is one of three colors: dark, light, or gray.

When they meet, each player has a frantic, twitchy, 1-on-1 battle. The winner takes the square. The combination of piece types is key to winning. Each piece’s offensive power is different and has a delay before it can be used again. Aiming well is rewarded.

You could play against the computer, as I did, but the game was made for competitive, on-the-couch multiplayer. For reasons that completely escape me, I didn’t do that. So I played a lot of single player in a short amount of time, then lost interest.

Two Decades Later

Last Saturday, my son joined me for PAX. It was his first time attending and a ton of fun for both of us.

We walked through the Expo Hall, skipping everything with a line. A bunch of throwaways and maybe a T-shirt isn’t worth a two-hour wait. Along with the big name games in expensive booths there were indie developers and their smaller stuff.

I noticed a taped paper sign at the Greenhouse booth, looked at the monitor, then smiled. Archon has been remade again. We watched a match in progress. There have been some changes. The previously empty battlefield now has obstacles and power-ups. There’s more than one board and some pieces now have secondary attacks.

I was approached by Brad from React Games. He asked if I wanted to enter a tournament happening later. We did. So we signed up and revisited the booth on time. There were roughly twenty of us. As we waited for our turns, I experienced some very brief geek-shame , but looked at my son and quickly got over it. It’s PAX, dammit.

I may have loved that old game, but it’d been at least two decades since I last played it.

What the hell, I thought.

The ladder was constructed and we started the elimination rounds. My son and I safely made it through the first rung. The games were short, fun to play, and netted [an actually cool] retro Archon T-shirt after you lost. The next rung approached.

He’s too young and I’m too old, I thought.

My son played his game first. He fought really well, but his opponent won. Adam now has an Archon T-shirt. Pride acquired. Next was my game [and then back to the show floor]. I played.

I somehow won.

No matter. I apologized to Adam that it was taking too long. He waved me off, saying that he’s having fun playing World of Goo on another kiosk PC.

All the prior games lasted five minutes. At the end of that time, the player with the most pieces on the board won. My next game had a time limit of ten minutes. I grabbed the gamepad and played.

And defying all logic, I won.

It quite suddenly found myself starting the final game. Adam was now closely watching. There was no time limit on this one. I started strong and edged out my opponent  in the first half, but he became more aggressive. His most powerful piece, the wizard, knocked out all my strongest pieces. I was left with just a few goblins – the pawns of the game.

In a very tense and highly unlikely end-of-game sequence, my second to last goblin killed his wizard. I won. We shook hands.

I was awarded a lined coat with Archon Classic logo stitched into the breast. The thing is tastefully designed and doesn’t look like a giant, torso-based ad. We left the booth, had a photo op with the developers, and parted ways.

The rest of Saturday was a joy. There was a ton of socialization and cool stuff to see and do. But a few times, I reflected on the  unlikely outcome. I jabbed at my pride when I played the first few. By the end, though, I felt a sheepish kind of pride. The whole experience is a very small thing [and an obvious aside to my usual posts], but it was a warm feeling.

I left the sheepish feeling behind when I thought: I’m pushing forty, have a bunch of responsibilities, and I don’t game like I used to… but I will kick your ass.