This one is mostly about looking at things. Forty-two enemy commanders, forty-two hand-drawn arenas, and a browser build that finally runs like it should.
Every enemy commander now fights on a stage built for them — backdrop, mat, and the standing pieces in between. Thirty-nine were redrawn for this release; the other three landed just before it.
The Frozen Harbour has real longships and a red lighthouse, with a fish frozen in its block. Grave Tide's great wreck reads as a ship now: the ribs have a keel and the anchor is shaped like an anchor. The Bone Throne is actually a throne — ribs, vertebrae, a crowned skull. The Razed Village burns properly, house-shaped shells and a church skeleton over an ash-dressed mat. The Luggage Graveyard got a monument: one colossal open steamer trunk.
A few of them move. The Elder Treant's ground grows a tree from seed to crown and back to seed, and the loop closes on itself — the last frame is the first frame, the same seed lying in the same spot. Verdy B. Queen's hive grows a course taller and wider for every three of her swarm still standing, so you can read how the fight is going off the wall behind her. Wind crosses her meadow as a travelling swell rather than every blade nodding on its own timer.
Wally's moon rises through clear sky now, too. It used to set behind a tree.
Four hundred and eighty-five icons were redrawn.
The old set leaned on symbols where it should have drawn the thing: motion dashes for movement speed, a flask and some plus signs for a growth serum, circular arrows for a shuffle. They are a boot, a syringe and a die now.
Three hundred and fifty-four of them used to be several disconnected islands of ink. None are now — every icon is a single silhouette that a blade could punch out in one piece, which is the whole idea.
The web build was rough, and the reason turned out not to be what anyone assumed.
The frame is bound by how many things are drawn, not how many pixels they cover. Hiding the painted layers on each piece's cardboard stand saves about a quarter of the frame; shrinking those same layers to a fiftieth of their size saves nothing at all. The stands were costing more than the soldiers standing on them.
So: the die-cut edge now walks a number of steps matched to how big the cut actually is on screen — a small standee no longer pays for a blade it never shows — and the browser and Android builds stand their lights down, drop a full-screen pass, and stop drawing at twice the resolution on high-density displays. Icons ship with mipmaps where they are drawn far smaller than they were authored, which makes them both sharper and lighter in memory.
Every boss had a theme except one. Wally's arrives with the fight now — sunny radio pop that tears into something with teeth at each moonrise and then pulls itself back together, which is the honest summary of Wally.
It is on the jukebox with everything else: thepaulbooth.com/cardboard-conquest-jukebox
Instar I through VIII was eight variations on a green crab. It is a real progression now: one new feature per molt, in an order that means something — the outsized right claw, then the shell plates, then the matching left, the tail, the head, the blade, and finally the crown. The keel laid down at the third molt is what splits open at the eighth.
The flavour text reads as one story across the eight cards, counted in the shells it leaves behind. Instar VIII gets the pop-out cutout, because by then it has earned it.
Those cards also speak the other nine languages now. Instar II through VIII had always shipped in English no matter what you had selected — the translation pass never followed a card into what it hatches into. Thirteen links like that were found and fixed, so summoned units, death-spawns, trap pieces and polymorph targets all carry their names and flavour into every language.