Designer Diary: Creating Machines To The Sky! | BoardGameGeek News

by Moongrel Moongrelish

Welcome to the intriguing dystopian world of Machines To The Sky! To kick things off, we’ll embark on a movie marathon that inspired The Moongrel one rainy evening because every good apocalypse starts with a touch of cinematic insanity, right? Get your popcorn, sit back, grab a tin foil hat, and prepare for an odd journey through inspiration, chaos, and apocalyptic fun!

It all kicked off with The Andromeda Strain. You know, that classic film in which a space virus nearly wipes out humanity. Ring any bells? This whole “cosmic doom from above” vibed perfectly with The Moongrel. An inevitable apocalypse? Check. Space weirdness? Double check. Dangerous virus? You better board up! If you haven’t seen it, give it a watch — but don’t blame poor Moongrel if you start sanitizing everything afterward.

Next in line: Colossus: The Forbin Project. Now, imagine a supercomputer gaining control over humanity, like your toaster feeding you every morning, but think bigger — way bigger! And your toaster starts conspiring with Comrade Toaster in SSSR. Can you smell the bread burning?

And then there’s Dr. Strangelove because no dystopian vision is complete without a healthy dose of political satire and existential dread (with a side of dark humor). It’s like looking at today’s news but with more bomb shelters and less Wi-Fi.

The Moongrel laughed and sketched, and voila — Machines To The Sky started to take shape, full of Cold War paranoia and snazzy art deco. It’s more than just a game — it’s a tribute to the dystopian classics that fueled our nightmares (and fun). The game’s aesthetic, mechanisms, and hidden Easter eggs are all love letters to these cinematic gems, so keep your eyes on the sky — and on your toaster while you’re at it!

Bidding: The Art Of Calculated Chaos

Bidding, ah. A fun game of strategy, guile, and occasionally destroying friendships that last a lifetime. The first part of Machines To The Sky, the exciting and tense realm of bidding, is being unveiled. Here rivalries are formed, dreams are created, and sometimes someone flips the table out of frustration.

Picture this: a line of shiny project cards spreads across the table, each one brimming with potential to shape your ark into humanity’s last hope. To claim them, you’ll need to deploy your experts — the game’s important resource — in a high-stakes bluffing game with your opponents. Imagine a silent auction with more bluffing and glaring.

Each project card has a minimum bid value, but the real chaos begins when everyone starts piling their experts onto the same card. As players go around in a clockwise order starting with the priority player, the stakes can get unexpectedly high.

But why?

Here’s the kicker: Experts left on unclaimed project cards stick around for the next round. Yep, those little resource tokens just sit there, whispering silently, “Maybe next turn, we’ll take this…”

Spoiler alert: probably not because someone could snatch it while you’re busy second-guessing yourself.

Priority Player: The Game’s Favorite Target

Speaking of silent temptations, let’s talk about the priority player — the first to bid, the first to act, and the first to get blamed when things go sideways. Being the priority player comes with its own set of perks and perils. On one hand, you get to break ties and access powerful contact cards, which can swing the game in your favor. On the other hand, you’re the one who has to show your plans first, painting a giant target on your back.

To make things even more interesting, the priority player isn’t a permanent title. At the end of each round, the priority token goes back to the market mat, where everyone has a chance to bid for it. It’s a delicate balance: How much are you willing to pay for the power to go first? Too much, and you risk blowing your resources. Too little, and you might lose your chance to dictate the pace.

With bidding, every decision matters. Will you go all in for that must-have project card? Will you play the long game, watching your rivals exhaust themselves while you strike at the perfect moment? Or will you aim for the priority player role, wielding power for a turn while everyone else plots your downfall? The choice is yours, bid wisely.

Building Engines, Building Dreams (and the Ark)

The Moongrel had always enjoyed making engines. I swear, I could hear him working with devilish versions of Rube Goldberg machines, even on chilly winter evenings, so let’s talk about the heart of the game: building your ark engine. This is where the magic happens, where project cards transform from mere concepts into the foundation of humanity’s survival. Sounds straightforward? Think again.

The mat is divided into slots numbered 1-4 — or, if you prefer, from “just about to make it” to “good luck with your funding”. But there’s a catch: you can place cards only into their corresponding slots — a rank 3 card goes in slot 3, rank 1 in slot 1 — so you can’t just toss your best cards anywhere you like and hope for the best.

Every decision counts, and that’s where things get interesting.

Additionally, each slot’s top card is the only one that is active. Yes, if you deck your cards carelessly, you could hide something exceptional beneath a mountain of mediocrity. Here come the wailing moans and desperate planning.

But wait — there’s hope! In Machines To The Sky, you’re not stuck with your early mistakes thanks to power, the game’s resource that lets you shuffle cards between slots. Got a killer card wasting away in Slot 4? Spend some power and bump it sideways where it can really shine. This feature is the lifeblood of engine building, allowing you to adjust your strategy and chase the ultimate combo.

Not all slots are created equal, of course. Slot 1 is where the big money (or rather, big points) lives, delivering maximum victory points for cards placed there. Slots 2 and 3? Solid contributors, but their value depends on your ark progress. And Slot 4? Well, let’s just say slot 4 is a great place to store your regrets…unless you’re smart enough to move them.

Engine building in Machines To The Sky is a game within a game because of the way it strikes a balance between risk, reward, and resource management. Do you take a chance on high-risk, high-reward combos, or do you play it safe? In any case, it is an extremely exciting and fast-paced race to the stars.

The clock is ticking. Your ark is waiting. Will you create a masterpiece of interstellar engineering, or will your machine sputter and fail? One thing’s for sure: In Machines To The Sky, engine building isn’t just a mechanism — it’s a journey, a challenge, and maybe a little bit of apocalyptic cosmic poetry.

Ark Progress: Racing into the Cosmic Unknown

Building a space ark, and venturing into the great unknown — it’s humanity’s last, greatest aspiration, right up there with inventing the perfect slice of toast. The concept of launching ourselves into the abyss of space is equal parts exhilarating and terrifying…but here’s the big question: Where do we even steer this magnificent vessel?

Will our odyssey lead us to barren systems, desolate planets, or The Moongrel’s personal favorite — worlds ruled by carnivorous flora and oceans so toxic they’d laugh at our Earthly oil spills? The uncertainty is as vast as the universe itself. With Earth’s days numbered, every action becomes a vital thread in our survival. The odds may seem slim, but with the ark, a flicker of hope persists…as long as you don’t mess up.

Now, let’s dive into the ark progress system, the heart of Machines To The Sky. Your mission? Craft the most viable ark to shepherd humanity into the stars — all while outmaneuvering rivals to secure precious funding. Sound ruthless? It is. Turns out, even as humanity teeters on extinction, capitalism still gets the final word. And really, where are we planning to spend all this money when the planet’s gone? Asking for a friend.

In gameplay terms, ark progress represents the “race” element of the game. Players must meet specific requirements to advance, and here’s where it gets spicy: Those requirements are randomized every game through the ark progress mat. Each game these requirements are randomized to have different requirements every time! This keeps every session fresh and ensures no two races to the stars are alike.

But ark progress isn’t just about speed — it’s about strategy. Progressing influences the maximum victory points you can earn from project cards on slots 2 and 3. It’s not just about getting there first; it’s about getting there smarter. Suddenly, bidding and engine building feel like warm-ups for the real competition: outpacing your rivals while managing three interconnected elements.

Don’t worry — ark progress might sound overwhelming at first, but its mechanisms are surprisingly intuitive. Think of it as a balancing act: meeting requirements, predicting your opponents’ moves, and making sure your ark doesn’t accidentally turn into a glorified space coffin.

Moments of triumph — like when you zip past a rival in a single turn — add layers of satisfaction to the experience. Let’s face it, nothing feels better than watching your competition flail as you ascend to cosmic glory.

The stars are calling. The race is on. Will your ark rise to greatness, or will it become a cautionary tale for generations that don’t exist yet? The answer is in your hands.

Solo Mode, or How I Learned to Love Playing Against Myself

Ah, solo mode — a feature near and dear to The Moongrel’s heart. Why? Because it all started here. Long before the ark soared into the stars and players began haggling over project cards, The Moongrel was just a lone designer, armed with a deck of cards and a relentless drive to simulate what humanity might look like when left to fend for itself.

Let’s rewind to 2018/2019, when The Moongrel first dipped his clawed hands into the realm of board game design. Back then, people gathered in bustling gaming cafés, eager to try prototypes, and the world felt a little less apocalyptic. The first title, Sleep Tight, was a semi-co-operative horror adventure in which testing with groups was easy. Then came In The Heart Of Darkness, a game with a solo core that expanded to multiplayer. The same mindset would soon shape Machines To The Sky — starting from the solo experience and building outward.

And then…the pandemic hit. Gaming cafés closed, in-person playtests vanished, and The Moongrel found himself alone with a table, some cards, and a lot of time. While the world adjusted to isolation, The Moongrel turned his design philosophy inward, honing a solo mode that could capture the competitive tension of Machines To The Sky — even if you were playing against yourself.

During those early days, playtesting meant one thing: playing against himself. The Moongrel simulated actions as both a player and the mysterious “other”, pushing the game to its limits. What worked? What didn’t? He found out the hard way, with countless hours spent tweaking, balancing, and occasionally yelling at inanimate cards.

When restrictions briefly eased, real human players entered the mix, offering valuable feedback…but as the world shut down again, it was back to solo sessions, refining the mode until it became something special — a fully functional solo system that feels like battling a rival.

Meet The Automa Deck: Your New Nemesis

The solo mode revolves around the automa deck, a stack of thirty cards split into two categories: green and red. The green cards are friendly — well, friendlier — simulating a manageable opponent for first-timers. The red cards, on the other hand, embody pure chaos, presenting challenging moves that will leave even the most seasoned strategists sweating.

Your task as a solo player? Build a deck of ten automa cards with the perfect mix of green and red. A balanced deck offers a “normal” game, leaning green makes things “easy”, while a mostly red deck plunges you into “hard” mode. And if you’re feeling particularly masochistic, you can go full red for the ultimate “extreme” difficulty challenge. Don’t say we didn’t warn you.

While Machines To The Sky shines as a competitive game, the solo mode is a triumph in its own right. It captures the essence of bidding, ark progress, and engine building in a streamlined, icon-based system that’s both challenging and intuitive. It’s perfect for solo strategists, pandemic-era gamers, or anyone looking to outwit a deck of cards that might just be smarter than your last opponent, so if you’re ready to test your wits, face the automa, and steer humanity’s last hope into the great unknown, solo mode has your back — or, you know, it might destroy you. Either way, it’s a win for The Moongrel.

Fellow solo adventurers — keep your decks balanced, your wits sharp, and remember: In space, no one can hear you rage-quit.

The Human Side of the Machine

Let’s be honest: Machines To The Sky is not your typical co-operative experience. Unlike our previous games, where players teamed up to face the looming threat of doom, this one is a straight-up competition — or a solo face-off if you prefer to go it alone. Was it a risky move? Absolutely. Was it worth it? Well, that’s where things get interesting.

Every leap into uncharted territory comes with its challenges. Shifting from a co-operative framework to a competitive one wasn’t just a design shift — it was a mindset overhaul — yet somehow the mechanisms of Machines To The Sky clicked together almost like they were destined to exist. (Don’t ask The Moongrel how, though; it just mutters cryptic things like “The stars aligned” or “It whispered to me in a dream”.)

But the real gamble wasn’t in the gameplay — it was in the game’s setting. Instead of a gritty, horror-infused backdrop that our fans know and love, we embraced the pulp sci-fi charm of the 1950s. Think Cold War paranoia wrapped in art deco spaceships. A bold pivot, for sure, but not everyone followed us down this retro path. The usual crowd of shadow-dwellers and darkness-lovers scratched their heads and wondered where all the tentacles went. Lesson learned: You can’t please everyone. And you know what? That’s okay. Risks bring growth, even when they stumble.

Dreams of Space and Sputnik-Style Glory

Let’s talk about The Moongrel. Normally, it lurks in its dark cave, crafting tales of horror and despair. But this time, something different stirred in the abyss — a vision of a retro-futuristic apocalypse. Spaceships gleaming with polished chrome, Cold War propaganda swirling, and humanity teetering on the edge of survival. Quite the departure from haunted woods and shadowy corners, wouldn’t you say?

But as it turns out, The Moongrel’s dream wasn’t about a literal apocalypse (thankfully). Instead, it became Machines To The Sky, a love letter to classic sci-fi and human ingenuity. We embraced the absurdity, the ambition, and yes, even the optimism (gasp!). And here we are: turning The Moongrel’s vision into a game — a competitive, strategic masterpiece, if we do say so ourselves.

Sometimes, risks pay off in unexpected ways. Sometimes, they don’t. But as The Moongrel always says, “What’s the point of a journey without a few missteps?” And honestly, it’s been a blast bringing this retro apocalypse to life.