Amber is a classic example that comes up in these discussions.
Intrepid uses playing cards instead of dice to resolve scenes and combat. For scenes, two people each narrate an outcome, and players vote on the version they prefer using red or black playing cards. A card is then selected and that outcome becomes the truth, so there is still an element of randomness.
In combat, each suit has a specific meaning for the ebb and flow of the battle, jokers change the scene, and the first person to draw the 4th ace wins the fight.
Most of Ben Robbins’ don’t have a random element at all and conflicts are resolved through procedure. Follow uses two coloured stones/poker chips/tokenswhich are drawn from a bag, similar to Intrepid. He also provides a “finger dice” system for getting dice-like results without using dice. On a signal, every player throws from 0 to 5 fingers, and groups of 5 fingers are eliminated. The remainder is roughly equivalent to a d6 roll.
Outer Wilds for me.
Outer Wilds is a brilliant game that you can only really play properly once in your life, as by the end you’ll have solved all the puzzles and learned all the mysteries, so I’m going to put the rest in a spoiler tag. I encourage anyone who hasn’t played it yet to do so before reading further so as not to cheapen the experience.
spoiler
People are very correctly moved by the game’s ending sequence and the message about coming to terms with things outside our control, especially the end of things (life, the universe, everything). But as beautiful and sad as it is, to me it felt more awe inspiring and reflective than outright tear-jerking.
That part for me came a bit later when I’d had some time to sit with my own feelings and could sort of re-examine the story in the context of the characters. And holy moly, it’s so tragic. You have the Nomai, bright, scientific, endless optimists who reforged their society after a horrible accident left then marooned in the star system. And just as they were beginning to get their feet back under them, they were entirely (and, in all likelihood, horribly painfully) wiped out by the Interloper, a completely external celestial body. There is literally nothing they could have done to save themselves. It’s so terribly unfair, and yet, what do you rail against? The universe? Physics? There was no malice in their fate, just bad luck.
That’s to say nothing of the smaller scale tragedies you can infer from their bones. The children playing their game in the cave. The crew of escape pod three who committed no errors but were still doomed, with nothing left to do but embrace each other. The Nomad implied to be working inside the Ash Twin project at the time the ghost matter flooded the solar system, who must have heard the sudden silence from his friends and then warped out to investigate, only to die within a few steps.
Then look at the Hearthians, those plucky, reckless, endlessly inventive and courageous people with the misfortune to be born at the end of the universe. (see the common theme?) They work so hard to explore and understand (Chert and Hornfels) and to conquer their fears (Riebeck and arguably the player character), but through no fault of their own, that day, the inaugural flight of their newest traveller, was their last. And, even though it is only in the weird metaphysical space of the Eye, we see them somehow make peace with it (try talking to “real” Chert during the last few minutes of the loop).
But you know what isn’t an ambiguous metaphysical mind space? The very last scene. As you witness the birth of a new universe, when everyone else is long gone, you at least get this last moment to witness that it is not the end. And your helmet’s visor cracks. Whatever else happened in the Eye, this at least is real and physical, and the Hatchling gets to witness the continuation for just a moment before being consumed by it.
DLC spoilers next
You can even make an argument for the inhabitants of the Stranger. Though they serve as your foes by the time you meet them, all around are clues they, in other, happier circumstances, you might have been great friends. They loved music, art, their home, and each other. The only reason they are monstrous is because they let themselves become consumed by fear until it had twisted them beyond all recognition. It’s the same fear you have to push through in order to learn the truth, and when you do, you get a glimpse of who they might have been. Which is why I think the DLC is brilliantly designed, even though not everyone was a fan of the stealth segments.
Each story is tragic in its own way, but also told in such an immensely moving and compelling manner. When I finally had the space to really put it all together, well, it did me in.
I’ve watched several friends and family play through it and even now I still choke up a bit at that final scene, your visor cracking, your suit’s HUD finally winking out, with the grand crescendo of Let There Be Light from the soundtrack swelling, and the new Big Bang expanding on blinding radiance in front of you, the proof that the journey will continue, and is no less meaningful even though your part in it is over.