I've recently made a video discussing what trick-taking is all about and showing many of my favorite examples of the genre:
My first step toward creating a trick-taking game was to create my own unique deck of playing cards. I placed a different animal on each card and had them competing in different competitions. There were five suits: one for runners, one for predators, one for swimmers, one for jumpers, and one for acrobats. Of course, the narrative threw up some potential problems. Was a shark a swimmer or a predator? Was a hare a runner or a jumper?
I came to the conclusion that some cards needed to belong to two or three suits at the same time, eventually settling on a deck that incorporated several three-suited cards.
This is the only bit of that original prototype that made the transition to Pikoko. It was the inspiration for a deck that includes weird multi-suited cards.
I admired the design of the trick-taking games that I had played. I enjoyed the familiarity between the different games, yet was constantly surprised by the variety that could be elicited by simply changing one or two basic rules. Minor tweaks to the standard "follow suit/play trumps/take tricks" formula seemed to produce an endless supply of hugely enjoyable card games, but I hadn't yet found my unique hook.
I do remember the precise moment when I had the thought "How would trick-taking work if you couldn't see your own cards?" I was watching a YouTube commentator discussing the game Bomb Squad. I was half-listening and didn't really pick up anything about the game; I just gathered that players couldn't see their own cards. Could this be my hook? Hanabi had done all right.
The first run for my untitled prototype was a bit of an experiment. It was a plain trick-taking game (i.e., you scored 1 point for each trick you took) in which you couldn't see your own cards, fanning them out in front of you in your hand. It was wildly unfair, and you won or lost based on your initial card draw, but it was fun. I knew enough about trick-taking to recognize that many games mitigate the luck of the draw by basing the scoring on the accuracy of predictions made by the players, rather than on the winning or losing of tricks. (These are called contract games.) I quickly realized that this was the answer.
Another key moment in that initial playtest was a declaration from my friend Devin that it was too much hard work holding up a hand of cards. He felt that there should really be some form of card-holder. I scoured the internet for something appropriate, eventually settling on some rather nifty plastic triangular spring-loaded thingies from Amazon. Among my playtest group, these became known as Devins.
When a hand of cards was fanned out and stood on the table for all to see, proudly adorning a colourful Devin, the whole affair recalled a muster of peacocks — yes, I had to look up the collective noun for peacocks — preening and prettying themselves as they ruffled their feathers. And so the prototype became known as "Ruffling Feathers" and the card art was altered accordingly.
"Ruffling Feathers" worked well right off the bat. Each player had their own peacock sat in front of them, but they couldn't see its feathers. They could, however, see the feathers of every other peacock on the table. On a player's turn, they would play a card from the peacock sitting to their left. Before the round started, players would make predictions about how many tricks each peacock would win, scoring points for accurate bids. It created lovely moments in which players would be collaborating at times, both trying to pull off a series of tricks for the peacock they had backed, then cursing each other a moment later when their predictions regarding a second peacock had diverged. There was a lot of control in the game as players had access to much more information than in a regular trick-taking game, with two-thirds, three-quarters, or four-fifths of the total information being available to all players, depending on the player count.
A situation soon arose that hadn't surfaced in the earliest tests: At the start of one round, all players made exactly the same predictions. We immediately realized that the round wasn't worth playing as regardless of the outcome, we would all score identically. The solution was to introduce a small element of hidden bidding. I did this by giving each player a hand of "confidence cards". Now players could essentially double-down on one of their bids by secretly playing a card that would score them extra points if the bid was accurate or lose them points if the bid was wrong. Rounds with equal bids became interesting again; the confidence cards introduced just enough uncertainty to keep everyone guessing.
I pitched the design to several publishers late in 2014 in its peacock-themed format, but the card-holders were a significant problem. I had extremely positive responses from several publishers who loved the concept of the game, but wouldn't consider publishing a card game with such substantial components. The cost of manufacture was prohibitive. I was told by one publisher that he loved the game, but did not believe that anyone would ever publish it.
As a solution to this problem, I created a set of collapsible cardboard holders to replace the expensive plastic varieties. It was shortly after this that I showed "Ruffling Feathers" to Brain Games.
I had been aware of Brain Games since 2012 when I purchased a few small card games from them at the SPIEL game convention in Essen, Germany, but I particularly enjoyed their 2013 card-and-dice game Om Nom Nom. My familiarity with the company led to me pitching to them in 2015, and they liked the game, signing it later that year. They renamed the game Pikoko (the word for "peacock" in Malawi and several other African nations) since "Ruffling Feathers" does not translate well to other languages, then asked their collaborator Reinis Pētersons to set about creating some feathery artwork.
The sticking point (as many publishers had previously advised) was the card-holders. They held the production schedule back for many months as Brain Games and the manufacturers tried to create something functional, attractive, and cost-effective.
Since signing Pikoko to Brain Games, I have also worked with them on the production of my party game Doodle Rush. This was a tremendous experience. I have also cheered them on from the sidelines as they achieved massive success with their penguin-flicking game ICECOOL. I am delighted to have the same team working on Pikoko.
Adam Porter