Review of City of Brass (Plus Design Reflections)

I played a game called City of Brass the other day, and after a certain amount of effort managed to finally complete a run and make it to the end.

It's currently free on the Epic store if you want to try it out, and it's really interesting. It's an example of what I call a "Roguelite" game. It features very simple core gameplay, but makes up for it by being difficult in a challenging but rewarding way.

City of Brass gameplay trailer courtesy of Uppercut Games.

The core gameplay is simple. You play as one of a number of characters, and each character has their own signature weapon, ranging from swords to spears to throwing knives. They also tend to have slightly different stats, like maximum health, movement speed, and the like, but I didn't really find them to differ tremendously much in terms of actually playing the game for that, though the weapons made each a very unique experience. As you go through the game, you find items scattered throughout the levels in chests, or purchase them from genies who offer to sell them to you, which makes your character begin to feel very different; this drowns out what few differences other than the weapons the characters have from each other.

The experience is similar to risk of rain, though it feels more like the game Spelunky in style. I enjoyed it quite a bit, and it's currently free, so I'm not going to go into too much detail in terms of a review here. If you think it sounds interesting, check it out. Ultimately, I didn't feel much need to return to it after beating it, and I think I played for about 10 hours. Maybe 15. That's not bad for me these days, though, since I tend to tire of games relatively quickly for some reason, and it was too complicated for me to play while listening to an audiobook, which would have earned it more longevity at the cost of me playing it but not really listening to it. I did really enjoy it while it remained novel, though. I tried dictating some stuff while playing it, and I had to constantly remove my little verbal remarks at things that happened while playing, which is usually a sign that a game's really engaging. It reminded me of Dark Messiah of Might and Magic more than anything else, with satisfying crunchiness when you managed to do cool stuff like kicking enemies into spike traps.

What I enjoyed most in the game from a design perspective is that it was very good at allowing players to make choices. Between the option to play as different types of character, most of which had to be unlocked through play, and the ability to buy items in shops, as well as the ability to spend wishes to change how genies behave, there were lots of things you could do during that were strategic in scope.

Also unusual for a game of its type, there were many modifiers to adjust difficulty available from the very start of the game. Many of these allowed customizing the game for a less difficult experience. I personally use this to remove the time constraints on competing levels, as I get a little anxious if I move to another level before I have explored every nook and cranny of the current one. Side-note: This is why I can't play Spelunky, so it's actually something that would have saved City of Brass from a rough review from me.

The only exception to the above rule is when I am running from a half dozen enemies toward the end of the level hoping to survive, and City of Brass made a lot of situations where I just had to manage my resources and flee like a coward advance away from my enemies.

It was a great example of relying on really satisfying simple inputs, something which a lot of games could learn from. Each character has basically a standard weapon attack, sometimes a special weapon attack, and a whip. They can push enemies away both with the whip and their hands, and pull them towards them as well. Most objects can also be picked up in this way. Characters can also walk, sprint, and Crouch: Crouching while sprinting lowers into a slide. Jumping allows passing over gaps and traps, and characters can mantel over ledges. The result is a great amount of freedom and very simple controls that feel intuitive. It reminded me of Brink, the parkour-based first-person shooter, but with much more interactivity with the world to give better engagement.

There are hidden layers of complexity as well. There are probably at least seven or eight dozen different items in the game, and any combination can appear during a given run. In addition to fun things like increased jump height and movement speed, distinctive weapon, whip, and armor variants exist that can be really useful in a pinch. My favorite were the throwing knives with a ricochet ability, though I wound up using the ones that restored my health when I killed enemies because I was going to die otherwise.

An example of very simple systems that add to the complexity comes in the form of the whip. The whip can be used for special effects if you hit enemies in different places. Stun an enemy by attacking their head, disarm them by attacking their weapon, krypton by attack. Generally you push enemies away from you, but you can also pull them. Traps can be triggered when you hit them with the whip, allowing clever tricks but also safe passage.

I could give more examples, but you get my point: one always feels like they are making decisions and that their decisions have consequences.

It has been a long time since I have felt as embarrassed by something I have done in a game as I did when I cleverly jumped over a pit trap only to have my momentum carry me into a chasm (which was clearly visible from the doorway I was in). The reason for this is that my decisions felt meaningful; it wasn't bad controls or a deceptive environment. I had made one decision but failed to account for all the information that should have been available to me, had I been thinking through my environment. I had already gone that way before, too, and had reminded myself to be careful around the pit.

As a designer, I think that moments like these are what we should aim for. We want players to feel like that are branching and divergent consequences for their actions. One thing should lead to another unforeseen, though not unforeseeable, outcome. Unforeseeable outcomes are just frustrating. Rather, it should be like when one makes a move in chess that opens up a flank to an opponent. A great game is simple enough to play, but complex enough to get lost in.

I also think it's a testament to how games don't have to be over-complicated. There's a lot of stuff in City of Brass that I did not even discover. However, only on rare occasions did the game feel it necessary to call me out for my ignorance, like when I accidentally drink a potion that turned me into a chicken (and hey, that was funny!). At any given point in time, there were just a few things to focus on, but they really demanded my attention.

That's a great way to make a game.