by Mike Peacock
Hi there! I’m Mike Peacock, a first-time game designer and illustrator of the card game Shoal, published by the wonderful <a href="https://boardgamegeek.com/boardgamepublisher/51410/molinarius-games-ltd”>Molinarius games Ltd. In this designer diary, I’ll take you on a little nautical trip on how Shoal came to be and how I discovered the importance of simplicity.
What Is Shoal?
Shoal is a lightweight family game, easy to teach yet with enough crunch that veteran gamers will get a kick out of it, too. In around thirty minutes, each player will layer cards in front of them, creating their own shoal of fish to complete goals and earn points. The game is based on four simple rules that players need to follow. Conveniently, each of these rules helped me solve several design challenges.
Set Sail!
The idea evolved from a mechanism of a much larger game that I had in mind around halfway into 2021.
The idea was an engine-building game about battling a sea monster but with a “give-and-take” mechanism to manage resources. Players would gain cards displaying different resources and each card would be divided up, displaying up to four different objects: wood, stone, bones, scales, flint, etc. These resources would be redeemed at the end of the turn to allow the player to buy/heal/craft/attack on their next go.
As you draw more of these cards, you have to place a card on top of another one in your stash, covering up a section of the previous card and thereby sacrificing some resources to gain more of another. This was a small part of an ambitious idea, but eventually life and work got busy and I had no clue how to even make a game, so I gave up, and the idea was shelved.
A year passed, and during this time I played a variety of games, some of which became key parts of my collection: War Chest, Disney Villainous, No Thanks!, Scattergories, and Air, Land & Sea to name a few, along with one of my all-time favorites, Sushi Go Party! Each came with varying success and enjoyment depending on who I played with.
There was also a range of challenges when teaching newcomers to the hobby. I was able to see and understand people’s confusion about where to play a piece, what to do on a turn, and even how to win! These things seemed to get in the way of the fun.
Speaking as someone who loves games, this was equally frustrating and fascinating. I was keen to understand how to help each issue and focus on what people enjoyed about these games. It led me to think of my old game idea: how do I focus on the fun and make it as accessible and engaging? I wanted to strip it down to the core and build upwards. Slaying the sea monster took a back seat, and I focused on that “give-and-take” mechanism of layering cards, redeeming resources, and awarding points. Just like that, the first rule of the game was set:
Coming Out Of My Shell
It’s now 2022, so I decided “What’s the harm?” and started to test this idea to see whether it would work as part of a game using scraps of paper or playing cards. I was far more reserved this time around and based the idea on hermit crabs.
With a background in marine biology, I drew inspiration from the animals I studied and worked with, and I was keen to incorporate their behavior into game dynamics. Each player would layer cards to build a pyramid in front of them, creating a shell and gaining food, points, and decorations as they went. Shell swapping and card trading were also incorporated, but that felt messy so it was scrapped.
The key result of this test was that layering cards to gain points worked and it felt good, so my confidence in the idea started to build. I focused on the card-layering aspect, allowing the player to choose from a market of four cards to add to their hand that they would eventually layer in front of them to score. It was here that I moved away from cards building a pyramid and allowed players to organize their cards as they liked. The gameplay felt like organizing a growing shoal of fish, pulling fish in as they swam past, so I waved goodbye to the hermit crabs.
While layering cards to get the right combination worked and felt good, I couldn’t help but feel that it had little structure and each game felt the same.
Another issue I came across was that a typical playing card size and shape seemed to limit how and where cards could be played. This led me to test square cards split into quarters. Square cards felt good, and no matter what they always fit into each section of another card — success!
However, this also gave players the freedom to manipulate cards as they placed them in their shoal, spinning them around to try to get the best combo. Seeing players lay fish upside down and facing a bunch of different directions didn’t make sense. Not only was this thematically upsetting to look at, but it allowed for far too much freedom that made the game really easy. To tighten this up a second rule was born:
Fish Are Friends, Not Food
I toyed with the idea of having a food chain, with larger fish being played on smaller fish, thus eating that fish, with players scoring points for visible fish at the end of the game. This led to the idea that fish would vary in their appearance and size; perhaps smaller fish may want to be in groups or find protection with similar looking fish.
Unfortunately, the food chain idea didn’t work. Players ended up with too many large fish spread across their shoal, and it didn’t make sense thematically for smaller fish to be able to move or cover larger fish. This resulted in a player being unable to play a card or the need to introduce a rule that would come into play only in a certain scenario, which I wanted to avoid.
That said, the size difference and grouping aspect seemed like a natural fit, so that stayed. With no food chain, players had a lot of freedom with where to play cards and now, no matter what, fish can always cover fish…a move that backfired a bit and resulted in players avoiding covering fish at all, spreading them far and wide from each other.
To nudge players back towards the “give-and-take” mechanism of covering fish, I wanted a player’s shoal to have structure and lead them into making tough decisions. To help prevent players from breaking up their shoal, I brought in the third rule:
Empty Spaces
Among the fish, I wanted parts of the cards to be empty. These sections would be worth no points and would change a player’s view of the value of a card. For example, a card having a high-value fish in one section but having three worthless empty spaces leads the player into a nice decision space.
With this in mind, I wanted players to have a choice of taking that card or leaving it for the next player and risk picking up an unknown card. Rather than have a market of cards from which to pick, I now had two draw piles: one face up and the other face down. Not only did this arrangement give players a choice, but it also made set-up nice and easy.
I put together a collection of the different card types in which fish will occupy one, two, or three spaces. While empty spaces are worth no points, they allow players to cover up a large amount of fish, either unknowingly shooting themselves in the foot or allowing them to get rid of unfavorable fish.
But what if empty spaces couldn’t cover fish? This gave the game some needed restrictions as not only did this solve some cards feeling overpowered but it also leaned into the core mechanism. If the card can’t be placed in the easy spot, the player will have to cover up a favorable section of another and try to solve the problem they created to earn more points in a later turn. I put together a bit of a matrix of card combos to see what worked, and eventually, I ended up with a suit of cards and the fourth and golden rule of the game:
Goal cards
I enjoy having variable goals as well as targets to achieve that change from game to game. Not only does it stop a game feeling a bit samey, but you can change up your strategy each time you play.
With this in mind, I knew the amount of points earned from one type of fish in a game would differ the next time you play. Players racing to achieve a shared goal that rewards only one player is a fun risk and gives players a choice for what they want to compete over.
Since players are covering fish, I wanted that decision to impact how they play and where they place a card. Giving each fish a base value of 1 point seemed to solve that, then players can earn extra points depending on the shared goals. Would a player risk sacrificing a group of three small fish for one large fish so they can try to achieve one of the goals? This also helped emphasize the importance of how a player will lay out their cards, picking which fish to add, cover, or keep to try to score the most points.
I tried increasing the complexity a tad by having cards with unique actions or by giving players secret achievements but playtesting with my family put things back into perspective.
I met with them, gave a quick teach of the four rules, showed them an example of a few turns, and described what to do with the goal card. I kept the hand size small to restrict player choice and the goals easy to prevent analysis paralysis. Then we played, we laughed, we added up the scores, and when I went to pack it up, they asked to play another round — success!
This playtest reminded me of what I initially set out to do: make a game that didn’t overcomplicate play or get in the way of families having fun. After that day, I stopped trying to add extra abilities or special fish; instead, I refined goals here and there and continued to playtest more. After roughly eighteen months of on-and-off development, I created a sell sheet with a “How To play” video and felt like it was ready to pitch!
Molinarius games picked up the game, which went on sale for the first time at UK games Expo 2024. They even asked whether I wanted to help on the stall! Being able to demo the game and play it with the public for the first time was amazing and is an experience I won’t forget for a long time. Shoal had a great reception, and it’s crazy to think that it’s now part of other family’s board game collections!
Leave feedback about this