The Webbed Hand of Injustice
Blackmailers May Not Shoot, but Bribers Always Croak.
As we gear up for the Notorious Frog’s land claim in Frogland, we’re publishing a series of articles that will culminate with the land distribution and public sale. So far we’ve released articles discussing the land mechanics and token emissions of both Frog and Land. A key game mechanic and dramatic element for the land schema — how users interact with their land to maximize token harvesting is: The Planning Commission.
In this article we will dive into some of the game mechanics and potential interactions between a landholder and a Planning Commission, in the most notorious setting possible…
A lightbulb flickers, the only source of light in an otherwise spartan room. Beneath the light, a shadowed figure sits slumped over a table, arms crossed under his head. An empty chair sits askance across from him.
A screech of tires outside filters in through the small, shuttered window, followed by an angry croak. The slumped figure does not stir, thin shafts of light striping the bare floor before him.
Voices approach from behind the heavy door, causing the figure to stir. He half lifts his head, then drops it back down again as the words remain indistinct, trapped on the other side of the door.
The lock on the door thuds heavily, the door swinging open behind the frog. He startles to attention, handcuffs chaining him to the table clinking lightly. He tries to regain his composure, but his vocal sack flutters with his increased heart rate as he places both webbed hands on the table.
A detective saunters in and positions her back to the window, casting her features into shadow. The lock slides home from the outside, confining both frogs to the small interrogation room. The seated frog twitches anxiously. Silence settles over the room, amplifying the racing heartbeat of the seated frog.
A sharp click and fizzle breaks the silence. The detective takes a pull of the cigarette, the end glowing red. She closes her Rippo with a snap, and leans back against the window frame. She exhales a cloud of smoke, concealing everything but the silver moon gleam of her eyes and the bright cherry of her cigarette.
The silence stretches.
Seeming to not be able to bear it any longer, the frog tremulously begins “R-really, I didn’t –”
“I didn’t ask.”
“Then — why am I here? Why the handcuffs?”
The detective drags on her cigarette, staring hard. “Where were you on the evening of Anura 17th?”
The seated frog sits back, startled. “Well, I — I suppose I was at home, in my lilyPAD.”
“And where is that?”
“Just outside of Amphibian Circle, on Sternwood Boulevard. Detective Chandler, I live a quiet life — I don’t even hop near the Murky Waters, let alone anything more nefarious. I’ve been at the same lilyPAD since…well, since we got here. Even reading Hedda Hoppa’s column in the Daily Splat is too scandalous for me, truly. Please, can you tell me what I’ve done wrong?”
Detective Chandler takes one last pull on her cigarette, rolling up her sleeve. The cigarette hisses against her moist skin, adding another gray freckle to her sooty complexion. “You applied for a work permit from the Planning Commission exactly once while at your current lilyPAD. Waited your turn. Built on your land. Collected your resources. Collected…but rarely sold.”
The Planning Commission is a verifiably corrupt, unelected bureaucracy in Frogland with a monopoly on land regulations. The Planning Commission has multiple offices, one for each of the seven biomes in Frogland. Work Permits allow frogs to build improvements on their lilyPADs to maximize resource token harvesting. The Permits expire each season, but Land Devices can be assigned to a different lilyPAD at any time.
Abruptly, Chandler begins to pace. “You’ve been living on that same PAD, hoarding the bounty of your land, and never interacted with the Planning Commission…until three days ago.” Six steps, turn. Six steps, turn.
“You sent a new lilyPAD application to the Planning Commission’s Mountain office three days prior to the evening in question. Why?”
The frog seems to relax somewhat. “Well, I recently visited a friend, Spot, out near the mountains. I like my urban PAD, really, I do — but it was so peaceful out there, and being so near to the hot springs…well, I just thought maybe it was time for a change of scenery.”
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Some may desire a lilyPAD for an abundance of high demand resources, or scarce resources; some may simply enjoy the surrounding environment. Others may value a location near friends, a social gathering space, or near hubs of commerce — no matter the reason, some locations will be in higher demand, and being able to move from one lilyPAD to another is a fundamental mechanic.
Chandler drops her head, nodding. “And as any…good citizen, you sent in your application requesting the change.” One, two, three, four, five, six, turn.
“Aye, I did. Did I file something incorrectly? I thought it would be longer before I heard back. I know the changing seasons create a backlog of work for the Planning Commission, but I’m in no rush…” At this, Chandler’s pacing stops suddenly. Her vocal sack expands, and then slowly deflates.
“Your paperwork was correct. It was filed appropriately.” With a smooth movement, she pulls another cigarette out from seemingly nowhere, lights it, and pulls. “And yet…it was wrong. Wrong enough that you find yourself here, in the Bureau of Instigations. Can you think of…any possible reason?” She resumes her pacing.
The frog sits back in his chair, seemingly bewildered. “I surely can’t. But, if my paperwork was right, this should be no problem…right? I’ll wait until next season to move, if that’s easier on the Commission,” his voice turning pleading.
One, two, three, four, five, six, turn.
Bribes in the form of resource tokens are taken in exchange for jumping the queue to assign a Land Device to a new lilyPAD, get a work Permit, or both. The Planning Commission acts as a drain on the inflationary nature of the economy, both providing a resource liquidity pool for trading and driving resource scarcity by burning tokens.
One, two, three — silence. “You’re a smart frog. You can’t think of anything you forgot to do? Anything you forgot to offer?”
The silence lengthens, marked only by the quickening of the frog’s breathing under the detective’s unflinching glare.
After an uncomfortably long silence, the detective exhales a cloud of smoke he didn’t realize she had been holding in. “You need to grease some palms, you sap. How do you think the Planning Commission runs so efficiently? It’s not because pushing pencils is fun,” she scoffs.
The frog’s eyes widened, almost like he was seeing fireworks for the first time. “I need to bribe somefrog?” he gasps. “How is that legal — you know, it doesn’t matter. I have plenty of resources — I’m only one frog, I don’t use much from my PAD. How many frogdollars will it take?”
Chandler stares, deadpan. “You’re only one frog, indeed. How could the bribe of one frog be enough to convince a Commissioner of your worth?”
Size matters — but it’s not the only thing. Cultivating a bribe to the needs of a specific Planning Commission increases the likelihood of acceptance, just like bringing your friends to the party. Bribes from a Syndicate are bigger and more impressive than an individual’s, and more likely to be accepted, not returned.
The frog brightens. “Oh! I have kilos and kilos of croakaine* — I bet they don’t have that up in the mountains. How much do you think they’d want? I hardly go through 10 grams a year…”
Satisfied, Detective Chandler relaxes, leaning against the wall. “Depends on the frog — but no one does as much as Kevin. Luckily, he’s stationed in the Forest office for now, so 5 kilos should do.” She straightens and hops forward to unlock the handcuffs.
“Remember…Some want more money, some may want…other stuff you can offer, or tasks you might be able to complete. Criss-Cross. Now scram.”
TL;DR
The Planning Commission is an inherently and verifiably corrupt bureaucracy with a separate office presiding over each of the seven biomes. The Planning Commission is responsible for attaching Land Devices to lilyPADs and approving work permits. Permits allow Frogs to build improvements — a mechanism that amplifies token emissions from the land.
The order in which applications are processed through each Planning Commission can be influenced by bribes made by individuals or Syndicates. If a bribe is not taken, it is returned — if taken, the briber jumps the queue to be serviced faster. Syndicate organization and mechanics will be the subject of an upcoming article in this series.
Bribes to the Planning Commission act as a deflationary drain against the inflationary pressure from harvesting of resources. Consuming bribes of resource tokens by either burning them or transferring them to an in-game liquidity pool maintains balance in the economy.
For those who would rather not engage the gameplay aspects of Frogland, their Frogs and lilyPADs will still accrue value that they will be able to claim and trade. Further perks yet undisclosed are also being considered for the design. The Frogs’ Essence and lilyPAD’s resource tokens will be emitted continuously and accumulate without any active participation through a persistent, baseline accrual mechanic.
As with all things, balance is key. We are working to create a playing field that is not only fun but that offers opportunity and gain to all who choose to join no matter when or how.
If you’d like to help us create this world, hop into our discord and look in the #pillars-of-newpangea channel to opt into roles specific to the areas that you are interested in collaborating on, then find the channel with that topic. We would love to hear from you!
*Croakaine is not a land resource token…probably.
