What this is about.

My father has always enjoyed the Age of Empires series, even though he’s quick to admit that he’s not skilled enough to really master them. He likes them because they will run on his laptops, unfold slowly, and reward him with lots of eye-candy. He loves all the moving parts: the siege weaponry, the farmers working their fields, and the towering walls and turrets that rise out of the landscape.

In essence, my father loves the Age of Empires series because it lets him play SimBase.

That is also one reason why the Empires games always left me cold. Fortifications tested my patience, and siege-warfare tested it even more. They confronted me with so many options that my choices seemed meaningless. I could see why my father liked them, but they were 180 degrees from the Blizzard RTSs that informed my expectations.

So I dismissed Age of Mythology, at first, because it seemed like a cash-in on a franchise that I already knew wasn’t to my taste. I could hear the pitch: “Age of Empires meets Clash of the Titans. Same game, but with monsters.” Perhaps it would work for the people who already loved Age of Empires, but it was probably not for me. My prejudice didn’t relent until long after the game reached discount racks. That’s when I learned I was a fool.

I had been correct about it being the same basic game with an exotic ingredient, but the effect was like adding vermouth to chilled gin. Age of Mythology was a perfect martini, smoothing out the rough edges of the Empires series while deepening the game through some fundamental changes.

Age of Mythology cut the factions down to three and threw out the extraneous units. Each civilization had such a strong identity that it was clear where the strengths and weaknesses lie. Crafting an effective strategy around them was devilishly tricky, however, because everything depended on who you were fighting and the choices each side made during the course of the battle.

The mythology elements, far from being the gimmickry I feared they would be, proved to have subtle and far-reaching effects in every game. Choosing a supreme deity from among each tradition’s Big Three (for instance, the Greeks have Zeus, Hades, and Poseidon) gave each faction an inflection. Playing Greeks-Zeus was quite different than Greeks-Hades. Those differences became even more pronounced as players chose new gods with each new age.  Aphrodite could give the economy a huge shot in the arm, but Apollo offered giant Scorpions, archery bonuses, and a passage through the underworld for instantaneous point-to-point travel.

The most important addition for me, however, was a sense of wonder. The first time laser-crocodiles showed up on my doorstep and started blasting down towers while my Minotaurs sent Egyptian spearmen cartwheeling through the air, I felt giddy. I was astonished the first time an opponent opened an Underworld Passage behind my lines and started blowing my base apart from the inside out, and the thrill of launching an attack or rushing well-timed reinforcements to a battle using the Passage never gets old. It is wonderfully odd to see two hostile armies standing intermingled, peaceful as lambs, during an enforced truce while doves wheel and coo overhead.

For all Age of Mythology’s complexity, I rarely feel overwhelmed. In most RTSs, I’m dead certain I’m losing by the time my first barracks goes up, and usually get my proof a few minutes later as my troops are steamrolled by units two steps ahead on the tech tree. That rarely happens in Age of Mythology, where I still have time to think and plan. Expanding the economy alongside the army and technology is consistently challenging, especially since the factions and match-ups call for different strategies, but it’s not a black art of build orders. Most of the game is pleasantly self-explanatory, and even when I’m losing, I usually know why and leave the game with a bunch of ideas for the next match.

The RTS in general is a genre where I find as much that bothers me as pleases me, so when one comes along that instantly makes me so comfortable and hints at so much depth behind a straightforward design, I am ecstatic. Age of Mythology is one of a very few that strikes that balance.

In my household, it occupies the position of a favorite family boardgame. Several times a month, my partner will stand in a corner of the room, making certain that she’s in my line of sight, and start marching in place.

Eventually, I’ll peer over the edge of my book at where she is grinding carpet fibers into the floorboards. “I take it you wish to stomp some comps?”

She places a finger to the corner of her mouth and casts her eyes to the ceiling, making a show of thinking about my question while her big toe continues to press an imaginary Egyptian base into oblivion. Then, with a grave and solemn nod, she says, “Yes, please.”

Next up, Troy looks at the last great Impressions city builder.