‘Yet Another Stupid Death’: the game genre capitalising on one life
By Abby Thompson

Roguelike is a very specific sort of game – the name’s directly inspired by the 80s game Rogue, a permadeath dungeon-crawler. It’s earned its name as one of the very first permadeath games, and means what it says on the tin: any death you suffer in-game is final. 


Permadeath is one of the genre’s most intrinsic features. Removing traditional safety nets, such as respawning, means every decision counts – you can’t just wade off into the unknown unprepared, and if RNG hurtles unforeseen danger toward you? You best survive, for all your progress is on the chopping block.

To an extent, roguelikes are one of the only genres of game that successfully echo the finality of death present here in the real world through their mechanics as opposed to narrative. Many other games do include permadeath, including staple titles like Minecraft, but more often than not it is introduced through difficulty settings, as opposed to being there from the get go.

“Permadeath adds a sense of scale to the game that no other games can,” says an anonymous roguelike player. “Without it there’s very little to differentiate between having a bad character and a good one because you can just retry or outskill everything. With permadeath it makes getting good items actually feel strong, and also allows the gameplay and game design to be tuned in a very specific way that would be tedious otherwise if it was done repeatedly with no risk.”

A character represented by the 'at' computer symbol holds a staff constructed of a slash, a circle and several lines. They are fighting different letters that surround them, such as S, E and B.

Nomad_hermit, a roguelike player, admits there are differentiations in how people perceive both roguelikes and “roguelites,” a subgenre of roguelikes. They admit roguelites are typically more fast-paced, and see dying “not as an end, but as a step on a meta-scale of improvement.” Many roguelites preserve some sort of progress, perhaps through currency, experience points, or retained skills. Conversely, roguelikes “make both time and space discrete,” affording players the time to calculate their next decision, giving death its weight.

“The player knows that if they do the wrong thing, they won’t see that character – or that world, in some cases – ever again.” says nomad_hermit.

Make no mistake: not all roguelikes are identical, and some even divert from features normally associated with the genre. Some offer the ability to disable permadeath, or, conversely, the ability to enable it, with the setting disabled from the get-go. For as many enjoyers of the genre there are which favour features such as navigating the procedurally generated levels, there are also some would rather enjoy gameplay without the need to be on being on high alert.

The real threat of dying keeps players on edge.


“[One time in Angband I encountered a] room completely filled with the most powerful enemies I have ever laid eyes upon, each one strong enough that it would be a difficult fight in its own right, and there were dozens of them. I don’t even remember what my next choice was, whether I closed the door first or tried to run or what have you, but I do remember that in the next turn, I took the fury of one thousand suns in a blink and was killed instantly.”

Kisequé

Angband, released in 1993 and inspired by the writing of J.R.R. Tolkien, is one of the many Roguelikes (including the original 1980s Rogue) with fully ASCII graphics. Expansive worlds built of ASCII are constructed of classic letters, numbers and symbols we observe every day on our computer screens, calling back to a time before intricately detailed graphics.

Whereas some roguelikes might place you immediately in dangerous territory, Angband does feature a town at the beginning of the game, offering you the brief assurance of safety before diving into danger.

“Some of my earliest gaming experiences were with roguelikes (not the OGs, but late 90s). I later discovered generative/programmatic art (pre-transformer-model AI), and greatly enjoy seeing different systems interact, as well as games of chance.” says an anonymous roguelike player. “Roguelikes incorporate elements from all of these interests. Success and, eventually, mastery in many roguelikes depends on understanding the current situation, potential challenges and rewards, and understanding at a deeper level why the game acts the way it does.”

“There is no other genre, to my knowledge, that gives such a holistic answer to the question, “What does it mean to design a game?” While I’ll always love FromSoft’s wonderful, surprisingly subtle approach to telling a story, the joy of movement when playing a well-designed platformer, and the cosy comfort of throwback farming simulators, I believe roguelikes are unique in their ability to repeatedly surprise the player, even after hundreds of hours of play.”

There’s a term created by roguelike players known as YASD, which means “Yet Another Stupid Death,” which is typically used by a player when describing a death that might have been otherwise preventable – such as venturing into a zone completely unprepared, or committing to an action with entirely unpredictable results, hoping for the life-or-death gamble to pay off.

Deaths can be both agonising and compelling: be it RedEye’s experience where they summoned a two-headed ogre, only for it to be hit confusion and kill him instead, or 12gunner’s encounter with a clone of their character, getting their “butt kicked” by their perfectly manufactured double.

“For me the appeal of permadeath is the tension it allows. I don’t care for games that use it the way Super Mario Bros uses permadeath, where it’s this quick repeatable loop.” says player Dwells_in_moss. “It’s when you’re several levels deep, and you’re hanging onto life by a thread, it can make you feel your heart thumping in your chest. Video games are pretty bad at creating this kind of suspense otherwise.

“But you need that slow, deliberate pacing too, and the sense of going deeper and deeper into ever more dangerous territory. 

“It’s not just about the permadeath, it’s the way it’s worked into the pacing of the game.”

There are players who aren’t too keen on permadeath: some think the thrill of roguelikes doesn’t necessarily require it, some think it prevents players from a full experience, and some think there might be too focus on it overall, detracting from the other features that make roguelikes so unique.

“Permadeath isn’t the biggest part of the appeal of the genre. If you look at Qud, Cogmind, or Tome or several other highly praised games they often feature non-permadeath modes. Most games even have a “wizard mode” or can be save scummed and often are.” says RedEye.

“Permadeath adds to the challenge, atmosphere, and general run-based gameplay but it doesn’t encapsulate the genre.”

Nevertheless, others find permadeath and their enjoyment inseparable. It’s all down to preference: how do you like to play?

“I require permadeath to fully enjoy this genre. The stakes must be everything.” says Celem83.

“I’m not a fan of meta-progression between runs at all (often a hallmark of second-wave/modern roguelikes) as it makes future runs easier and encourages the idea of throwing this run in favour of the next.

“Every run in a vacuum.”