Ah, gimmicks in game design—a double-edged sword if there ever was one. Some of the best gaming ideas blossom from a unique feature, evolving into something truly remarkable. But here’s the catch: focusing too much on that one shiny idea can lead to a kind of tunnel vision. You get so fixated on perfecting the novelty that everything else becomes an afterthought. In game design, that’s a risky business. Take, for example, the PC game we’re diving into today—Pairs & Perils. While it’s undeniably fun, it serves as a pretty solid example of what happens when that central idea starts causing more harm than good.
On the surface, Pairs & Perils is a straightforward matching game. You venture into a dungeon setting and come face-to-face with a randomized assortment of enemies, each armed with distinct abilities. The key here is a board of cards—match them correctly, and you’ll see your party’s classes unleash attacks, casting spells and abilities that can turn the tide of battle. Get it wrong, though, and you’ll push your opponent’s turn timer closer to zero, letting them unleash their own attacks or abilities. The premise is simple, and frankly, I don’t have any issues with the basics. It’s enjoyable. Yet, as often is the case, the trouble begins not with the mechanics themselves, but with the areas surrounding them.
Pairs & Perils ventures firmly into roguelite territory, a genre I’ve spent plenty of time in and am perhaps a bit more critical towards as a result. Many roguelites manage to be either truly outstanding or slightly disappointing, with little middle ground. This usually hinges on elements beyond the core mechanics. Foremost among my gripes with these games is often the story—or, more accurately, the glaring lack of one in this case.
Sure, arcade games and shooters can skate by with minimal narrative. They thrive on action; too much story could even break immersion. But roguelites? They tend to be more strategic. When you’re embarking on a quest, you need a solid reason why. The same goes for platformers or any games involving long hours spent with a character. We don’t need an epic novel’s worth of lore—just something that’s compelling enough to keep you coming back for more. Sadly, Pairs & Perils gives you zip, nada, zilch in that department.
Starting up Pairs & Perils, there’s no introduction. There’s no character backstory, no motivations for your dungeon dive—nothing. You’re tossed onto a map layout familiar from countless other roguelites and then thrown directly into the action. This lack of context bothers me. If I have a story to pursue, I’m driven to keep playing to see what happens next. Lacking this, even if a game is fun at its core, I have little motivation to keep engaging in the long haul.
Another hiccup? The game’s pacing when it comes to card memory. As cards are dealt, a brief moment is given to memorize them before they’re flipped. But that time feels a tad too short. I don’t need a whole minute, but a few more seconds would work wonders. Initially, it might be manageable, because your board’s sparse. But as the game progresses and the board gets crowded, those few extra seconds become crucial. There are traps in the cards too; flip one of those, and you’ll find yourself in a spot of bother. But keeping track of them means forgetting the beneficial cards, making gameplay unnecessarily challenging.
This rhythm of memorizing only the new card sets—those dealt-out fresh—is too easy to fall into. Remember those, another set arrives, remember those, and so forth. It turns the cycle into one where you’re only partially utilizing the board, making any genuine strategy fly right out the window.
Strategical depth also suffers due to how cards impact opponents. Strategy games thrive on foresight and planning. However, in Pairs & Perils, you’re so focused on the cards you’re flipping that you almost ignore what your foes are up to. This makes what could be an interesting battle setup feel a bit redundant. The focus shifts entirely to memorization, sidelining the actual combat’s intricacies. It’s not a flaw in the game, per se, but a byproduct of its core demand that leaves what should be a holistic experience feeling rather linear.
Mechanically, there’s nothing broken here. Pairs & Perils nails the matching mechanics, and other roguelite elements like card unlocks and character upgrades are present. If you’re familiar with this genre, you’ll find all the expected elements. The controls are solid, and while the graphics are nothing to write home about, they get the job done for this game type.
In the end, Pairs & Perils is a decently entertaining roguelite CCG that flaunts an interesting gimmick. However, that alone isn’t enough to make it shine amidst its peers, given the gimmick’s downsides. It’s perfectly adequate for short bursts of play and isn’t too pricey. But frankly, I’d rather pay more for something polished and comprehensive. In all, despite its innovative spirit and fair share of engaging aspects, it lands in the okay-but-not-great category.
If the developers could piece together a story and balance it all out more effectively, Pairs & Perils could easily become a game worth recommending. For now, though? It’s a fun but somewhat forgettable title, especially in a genre that’s already bursting at the seams. If you’re itching to give it a whirl, I wouldn’t say you’re wasting your money—just keep in mind that there are plenty of other fish in this sea.
This review is based on a retail copy of the game provided by the publisher.
A Balancing Act
Look and Feel: 7/10
Challenge: 7/10
Replayability: 6/10
Value for Money: 6/10
Overall: 6.5/10
Execution Problems
Pairs & Perils features a truly fun mechanic at its core. Still, its execution falls short in several areas. For every feature that makes this game intriguing, there’s something else that holds it back. The lack of a narrative and certain mechanical tweaks slotted for improvement means that while the game is enjoyable, it doesn’t quite reach greatness. A few updates could certainly shift my opinion, but for now, it fits comfortably in the good-not-great realm.
