A lightweight game needs to do two things well to be a hit with new players and people who only enjoy these lighter games. They need to be fun, and they need to have a theme which appeals to a wide demographic. Tenpenny Parks nails it on both counts. Entry-level worker-placement combined with polyomino placement covers things mechanically, while the theme of building an amusement park isn’t likely to find too many detractors. It manages to do both things really well, resulting in a game I think I could teach to just about anybody and be confident that they’d have a good time.

Parks and Rec

The idea of the game is simple. Each player has their own board which represents the land they’re going to develop into a top-notch amusement park. They also each have three oversized wooden worker meeples. The main part of the game has the players take turns placing a worker at a time on the various spaces on the board. Anyone who’s been here before knows what to expect. There are four shared spaces which anyone can go to as many times as they like: the Bank (get $2), the Arborist (remove two trees), the Contractor (get little concession tiles for your park) and the Realtor (get expansion boards to make your park bigger).

The other spaces surround the biggest piece of eye candy – the gorgeous carousel in the middle of the board. Each of the six spaces around it relates to one of six decks of cards, each of which features attractions for your park. Those spaces are first-come, first-served, and can offer discounts as well as penalties to some of the prices. There can be real competition for these, which makes being the first player really important. More on that later. If you buy a card you get the associated polyomino tile to add to your park.

Building your park is similar to games like Patchwork, Barenpark and even heavier games like A Feast for Odin. You can build anywhere there isn’t a tree in the way, but it almost feels like a shame to hire the arborist and shift some trees, because they’re gorgeous little wooden pieces and I want more on my board, not fewer dammit! The biggest divergence from games like Barenpark and Isle of Cats is that no two tiles can have touching edges. No exceptions. Touching diagonal corners is fine, just keep all that orthogonal nonsense out of here. Once you realise how this works you suddenly understand the puzzle of trying to make things fit, and the importance of clearing trees and adding extra boards. It’s tricky.

Making tracks

There’s a cool mechanism added at the bottom of the main board in the form of three shared tracks. Building attractions and concession stands give you bumps along these tracks, each of which is evaluated once in each of the five rounds of the game. If you’re ahead on the Thrill track you can take a step back for a bonus worker for the following round. In a game with only 15 turns, every extra turn can be huge. The player furthest ahead on the Awe track can opt to lose a step to take the first player shovel, which not only lets you take the first turn, but also choose which way you want to like the carousel to point for the next round. Finally, the leader on the Joy track can also choose to lose a step and claim $3. It might not sound like much, but money is tight in Tenpenny Parks.

I love these tracks for the choices they make players make. As I mentioned at the outset, this is a light game, so forcing choices like these is a glimpse into what more complicated games offer. You don’t have to take the bonuses after all. You can opt not to and claim a VP and stay ahead on the track, which might prove valuable if you have a private goal card which wants you to be furthest ahead on a certain track for bonus points at the end of the game.

There’s another really interesting phase of each round. Each completed attraction (except the Souvenir shops, which boost income) gives players an option to spend their hard-earned cash on advertising, bringing in more VPs per round. It sounds like a no-brainer to do it, but sometimes you might have your eye on a really lucrative, but expensive attraction in the next round. No money means a trip to the banker, which means one less worker to use. Maybe not Lacerda-level brain melting, but certainly enough agency to get players invested in their park.

Friendly and inviting

I need to take a few lines to explain how impressed I am with the production of Tenpenny Parks for the most part. The carousel was a pain to put together for me, not least because some of the panels had delaminated, but because it’s a tight fit. However, once it’s done it feels incredibly solid, and it’s not coming apart anytime soon. Having a huge hole in the main board is unusual, but having the carousel slot in so nicely is great.

The big, chunky workers are a nice touch, as are the thick, sturdy tokens throughout. The whole thing is blocked out with bold, poster paint colours that lend to its newbie-friendly table presence. Nothing about the game is intimidating or overbearing. It looks, feels, and indeed is perfect for lightweight gamers.

The only downside from a development and production point of view is the choice of colours for two of the attraction types. Given the stark colours used throughout, it seems odd that the souvenirs and Old West attractions are yellow and yellowy-brown respectively. It’s not the end of the world, but it stuck in my brain each time I played it that I mistook the colours of the cards more than once, and that’s the sort of thing I’m duty-bound to moan about in a review. See what you think in the picture below. It might just be a ‘me’ problem.

Final thoughts

Tenpenny Parks makes me smile. My chosen board game world is one of muted beige and dry themes, so Tenpenny Parks stands out like a neon helter-skelter in the middle of it. I love it for that. The bright colours, streamlined gameplay, and open, friendly approach to the game are lovely. As a self-confessed heavy game nerd, I’m also appreciative of the fact that there’s still enough game in there to sink my teeth into while the rest of my family are content to make nice-looking parks, and enjoy the game for what it is – a fun time. Importantly, the game doesn’t take hours to play. Five rounds and you’re done, all within 90 minutes. There’s a lot to be said for that brevity in a modern game.

Despite my grumble about the colours above, Vincent Dutrait’s artwork again stands head-and-shoulders above many. I love the wooden pieces, they’re chunky, tactile and fun to use. There’s a bit of a disconnect between me buying a crazy rollercoaster and then putting a small cardboard tile on my park mat, but equally I’d be complaining about a big plastic mini obscuring my view if it was the other way around. I’m an ornery monkey at times.

There’s not enough here to satisfy you if your regular group usually contends with fare from Messrs Lacerda and Turczi, but if you’ve got a group you want to edge towards medium-weight games, or a family that rolls their eyes when you lovingly stroke your copy of Civolution (read my review of that here, right after you finish this one), Tenpenny Parks will be a hit. Polyomino placement is fun, worker placement is fun, the game is beautiful, and thematically it outperforms so many other games in the same space. A lightweight heavy-hitter.

Tenpenny Parks (2022)

Design: Nate Linhart
Publisher: Thunderworks Games
Art: Vincent Dutrait
Players: 1-4
Playing time: 45-75 mins

The post Tenpenny Parks Review appeared first on Punchboard.

Space invader

The first thing to understand is that Civolution is a sandbox game. A big, heavy sandbox. It’s a cliché in heavy Euro games to say there are a lot of paths to victory, but in the case of Civolution it’s warranted. The first time you sit down to play the game the thing that hits you first is just how big the player boards are. The ”consoles’ as the game calls them are huge. My first thought was one of “Uh-oh, Stefan’s gone for a gimmick here to make the game stand out”, but that fear was pretty quickly allayed. The left side of the board is mostly used to house resources, while the right is your menu of actions.

At this point you might think it would be better to have a shared action board in the same way A Feast For Odin does it, but there are some pretty good reasons why that would never work. You see, in Civolution you all start with the same actions available to you, but as the game goes on you can upgrade the actions by flipping or removing the action tiles from their sockets, meaning that my Migrate action, for example, might be more powerful than yours. Strategy in the game is so woven into the combinations of actions and resources that having your actions right there in front of you, so personal, makes playing and understanding the game easier.

The resource side of the console you could argue could be done smaller, but I’m glad they didn’t. Unusually for a modern Euro, there aren’t a heap of different wooden or cardboard resources. In fact there are none! Each player has a pile of octagonal wooden pieces which have a variety of different uses. The different resource types each have a space on your console, and you use your wooden markers to show what you have. For example, if you collect two wood, you put two markers in the ‘wood’ space on the board. It’s so easy, and important (for me at least) is how quick it makes setup and teardown. The resource spaces are in rows and columns too, which denote which type of region they come from, and how much they’re worth if you trade them.

On top of all of this, figuratively as well as literally, is the big, empty, unusual space above the board. This space is where you slot in cards you’ve been able to play, giving you yet more decisions to make, and a chance to build a powerful engine to drive your civilisation forward. Cards get slotted into rows and columns. The higher the row, the more points it’s worth at the end of the game, but the more expensive it is to place it. Placement is a trickier decision than you might think, because once you play a card of a certain colour into a slot, all subsequent cards of the same colour have to go in that same column. So despite the player boards being so large, they serve a genuine purpose.

In addition to the consoles you need to find space for two more boards and a jigsaw-style map, but with them being modular you can make it work with whatever table space you might have available.

Dicing with destiny

I used a lot of words to try and convey how big and imposing Civolution is, but I did it for a good reason. This game looks daunting and confusing, and that in itself is enough to put people off. Maybe not people like you and I, people who love a heavy game, but those who you’d like to welcome to the dark side who are heavy-curious. Once you get past that initial ‘Woah’ factor, playing the game is really not that bad. I mentioned Castles of Burgundy at the top of this review, and you can see some of its DNA in Civolution. Actions are driven by your personal stash of dice. If you don’t like the values on your dice you can use ‘ideas’ in the same way you could ‘workers’ in Castles to change the value one step. You place dice on spots matching their values, take the action, then remove them. Sound familiar? Each action requires two dice of different values, so while it’s true that someone could just roll lucky each round, the reality is that you need to allow for a bit of mitigation in your plans.

There’s a central pool of extra dice you can take from by using a certain action, and extra dice are a good thing, because it means you can take more actions before you’re forced to take a reset turn. Reset turns are what drive each round towards completion and although a necessity, often feel like a wasted turn. Everyone else is doing something, and you’re stuck rolling your dice instead. Even in this though, this simple cycle of dice rolling and using, there’s strategy. If someone grabs a load of dice early in the game you might think it gives them an insurmountable advantage long-term, but taking a minute to extrapolate what’s going on makes you realise it’s not necessarily the case. They took turns to claim those dice for a start, and while they might have lots of dice to spend, if the rest of the players are driving the round towards its end with frequent resets, they might not get the chance to use them all.

That’s just one small example of the layers upon layers of strategy bubbling under the surface of Civolution. All of these words so far and I’ve not even touched on the map in the middle of the table, which is what the whole game is built around. You send your tribes out in the world to collect resources and build farms and settlements. As they move from region to region they discover new resources and uncover new landmarks. So far, so 4X, but it introduces a really interesting layer of economics into the game which I think is under-appreciated.

You can only gather resources once they’ve been discovered by migrating tribes into new regions. This lets people Produce resources in them, then later Transport (two of the game’s actions) to move them to their boards to use. However, you can also use the Trade action to gain resources. If they’ve been discovered on the map those resources cost two Gold each. If they haven’t, you can still buy them, but they cost four gold, and gold is hard to come by. If nobody decides to explore the continent – which is a perfectly valid strategy – you need to make sure you’ve got a good economy, or you’re going to struggle to build and pay for cards later in the game.

It’s such a unique direction for a modern Euro to take. To have a game which can be so different every time you play it, and to have so much of the game’s meandering path from start to end dictated by the players’ actions.

Making tracks

Euro fans rejoice – Civolution has tracks. Six of them! Well, five with an extra, little track on another board, but hey, a track’s a track. The tracks grant you rewards and end-of-game points, but some are randomly chosen during the game setup to give some big points at the end of each of the four eras. You climb the tracks by playing cards that come with a cost, and then form a part of your own engine. It’s all very by-the-books from that point of view, and that’s good, because we like those things in a game. But for a game to stand out, it needs something different. Something interesting. A hook.

Civolution’s hook is the dice. The white dice are used to conduct actions – two dice per action, and the dice used have to match those on the action. As mentioned earlier, there are ways to mitigate for unlucky rolls, and in order to do well you need to allow yourself to take the occasional turn to bolster those mitigation options. Then you have the pink dice which are used for hunting and passing tests in the game, and those tests are usually ways to boost the effectiveness of upgraded actions. At first, you have one pink die and only pass if you roll a one, but as the game goes on you get the chance to get more dice, and by moving up the sixth (Agera) track, the number range you need to roll gets bigger. Hitting 1-3 on three dice is much more likely than a 1 on one die.

The dice form the bulk of the game’s player interaction too. There are only a few extra pink and white dice to claim (player count + 1), so what happens when they all get claimed? The action to take a die still exists on all players’ boards, so when you perform it when all the dice are claimed, you take a die from the player with the most of the colour you chose. Aside from dice thievery, the other direct interaction comes when you move tribes around the map. You can kick someone out of their spot and into ‘the wilderness’, at the expense of weakening your own tribe. It’s nice, there’s just enough bite there to keep things interesting without the game devolving into a game of spite and take-that!

Final thoughts

Trying to keep this review around 1500 words has proved really difficult, which is why it now tops 2000. I just want to talk and ramble about it so much. It rode a huge wave of hype after Essen, and I like to make a point of waiting for that initial hype to die down before I play and review a game, because it’s easy to get swept along, even subconsciously. Civolution was worth the wait. It sounds ridiculous to say, so I’m hesitant to even give life to the words, but this might just be Stefan’s magnum opus ahead of Castles of Burgundy as far as I’m concerned. And that’s coming from someone who’s bought three different versions of CoB over the years and has over 50 games logged on BGA on top of real-life plays.

The way that every game feels and unfolds differently is great. Yes, the actions on offer are the same each time, and the map is only randomised to a certain extent, but the way things play out differs every time. The example I gave above about nobody exploring is just one example. In a recent 4-player game we stuck to a third of the map and things were tight. I discovered stone – a resource that you need for quite a lot of early game things – in the fourth and final era, which brought a collective “Oh my god! Finally!” from the table. In another game one player found himself alone in a corner of the world with three tribes and no competition and ended up racking up a load of points by moving around the regions in a circle (one space in each region gives VPs for occupying it).

I want to make a special mention of the production in Civolution. The player boards are huge, but premium, and I love the way that it just uses the same octagonal pieces for everything in the game. It makes setup and teardown so easy, so quick and means that I don’t have to factor that time into the ‘have we got time to play this?’ decision at game night, and to me that’s a blessing. The huge raft of actions available will undoubtedly put some people off, and if you don’t already like heavy games, I don’t think this is the one that’ll change your mind, but the rest of you will love it. A glorious sandbox which feels like all the best bits of Stefan Feld’s designs rolled up into one beautiful game. A must-have in my opinion.

Civolution (2024)

Design: Stefan Feld
Publisher: Deep Print Games
Art: Dennis Lohausen
Players: 1-4
Playing time: 120-240 mins

The post Civolution Review appeared first on Punchboard.

Can I interest you in an acre of land on the moon?

As I mentioned before, corporate greed is at the heart of Shackleton Base. The game comes with seven different corps, all in their own little (pre-made!) boxes in the main box, but you only ever use three of them per game. “Holy Clangers!” you might think, “That’s a whole load of replayability”. This is where my initial fears wormed their way to the surface. You see, a lot of the corporation interaction is in the form of contract fulfilment. Collect some stuff, turn it in, get some points and other stuff. After teaching the game three times, each time using the recommended starting corps, I was worried that the differences between the corporations would only be skin-deep.

I needn’t have worried. While the other corporations may be variations on a theme in a way, they still mix the game up enough to make it feel substantively different. Evergreen Farms, for example, let you build new greenhouse tiles on the board. To Mars lets you build your domes and place astronauts on a secondary board with a view to kicking them on their way to the red planet. Skywatch introduces the threat of an asteroid at the end of the game that will wipe buildings out, lest the players work together to build defences. You get the idea. It’s not like learning a new game, but throwing them in in different combinations presents some really interesting choices to make, and keep the game feeling fresher than a hunk of ancient moon cheese.

Actually playing the game isn’t too difficult. Players draft a shuttle tile at the start of the round which gives them some starting resources, six astronauts to place (one per turn, six turns per each of the three eras, so 18 actions for the whole game), and sets player turn order. On your turn the astronauts either get placed around the hex map to harvest resources and cold, hard cash, on the command action area to carry out actions like building, claiming corporation cards, or researching, or get sent to the lunar gateway to trade for an astronaut to place on your player board.

The main board is where a lot of the attention is because it’s a big, shared building area with some really neat area control mechanisms, but the player boards are equally fascinating. As the various buildings come off your board and get built on the moon, the spaces they free up become places you can house astronauts. There are loads of places to choose from, all giving different benefits. Discounts on upkeep, bonus stuff during income, increased reputation, or more lovely VPs for the end of the game. It quickly dawns on you that it’s not just a case of choosing the first building of a type and going with that. Long-term planning can reap big rewards.

Ring-a-ring-o’-roses

The hexes where you build are a part of my favourite puzzle in Shackleton base. Each hex can have a building of one space, one of two spaces, and a three-spacer too. If you build early in one of those spaces it costs you less to build in the small ones, with smaller upkeep costs, and you get the benefits earlier. Building later is more expensive (bigger buildings need more resources) but can pay huge dividends at the end of each round.

When a round draws to a close, each of the astronauts placed around the edge of the crater to get resources and money during the round are dished out to the players. Each astronaut faces a row of hexes, and the total space occupied by each player in the row is calculated. The player with the most claims the little astronaut and finds a place to put him in their player board, which as I mentioned before can earn you some serious income and discounts. It’s such a fun puzzle, and I love the moments when someone builds somewhere you weren’t expecting, meaning that the astronauts you were planning on banking are heading to someone else instead. Maybe no one can hear you scream in space, but on the moon, they can certainly hear you mumbling “You absolute bastard” under your breath.

This is one example of the thing that Shackleton Base does really well. It has mechanisms at play which feel simple and inconsequential, but after even just a couple of plays in the bank you start to realise their significance. Building late can net you lots of astronauts, but does so at the cost of more expensive command actions – i.e. the action that actually does the building. The first players to take actions there do them for free, while people later in each row pay increasingly more to do so. It makes timing crucial, and a lot of fun.

It all goes towards making what I love in a modern Euro – a ton of indirect interaction. There’s no take-that in the game but oh-so many opportunities to screw someone over just by doing something that directly benefits you. The juiciest little morsel is the energy track on the board. Some buildings and actions require energy to be spent, but energy is a shared resource. Anyone can build it, and anyone can spend it. There’s nothing more annoying than watching your plans blow away like dust because someone spent the energy you were banking on. You can make more power if you have the right resource, and it’s a free action, but it’s still this gorgeous layer of niggle that just bubbles under the surface the whole time.

Get the band back together

While there’s a solo mode included in the box (which works well, for what it’s worth), Shackleton Base is a game I only want to play with three or four players. There’s a two-player mode which blocks some spaces and uses an overlay for the Command action area. It works, but the game just isn’t as interesting. It’s up to the players if they choose to build in the same area of the crater or spread out. Sure, maybe you and your significant other like a game that lets you play without much interaction, but this game is so much better when the players are bouncing off of one another.

When you play Shackleton Base with three or four players, there’s really no choice about whether you stay away from the other player’s buildings. You’re tripping over one another for space to build and there’s a real tussle over the astronauts at the end of a round. In a two-player game, it’s easy to have an unspoken agreement along the lines of “Well, you’ve got those guys tied up, I’ll go over here and I can guarantee I get these”. It’s still a decent game, but it’s missing a little je ne sais quoi, like getting a fish supper on a Friday night and not dousing it with salt and vinegar, or eating a burrito without the spicy sauce. It’s good, it’s just not as good as it could be.

Play with three or four players to get the full experience, it’s where it’s at its best.

Final thoughts

I have a love-hate relationship with Fabio Lopiano’s games. Actually, it’s more like a love-infuriation thing, because I love his games, I just always feel like they end a round too soon. He’s a big tease. When I first played Merv (review here) I actually played a round more than I should. It just felt right. Ragusa (review here) and Zapotec (review here) were the same. His recent partnerships with Nestore Mangone and Mandela F-G seem to be steering away from that brevity, and I’m here for it. Shackleton Base is more like Sankoré (review here) and Autobahn in that it feels like there’s enough time to bring your plans to fruition. This is obviously very personal, but that’s why you’re here – to get my opinion.

Shackleton Base rode a wave of hype out of 2024’s Spiel Essen, and it’s deserved. It’s a clever, interesting game that feels different to any other game I’ve played this year. I love the way the shared building space has so much to consider. Building somewhere opens up those resources to you. Choosing which corporations place tokens around them dictates which corporations you lean toward. And then there’s the really satisfying collection of the astronauts based on row dominance. I have a near-irrational enjoyment of this part, and it’s not even an action I take. It’s just a part of the round-end process. Getting that sudden influx of astronauts just before you pay for upkeep and gather your income is wonderful.

The production levels are really high. The little boxes for the game components come ready-made, show what’s inside them on the outside, and aid with setup and teardown. I referenced Skymines in the intro, which also includes boxes, but doesn’t meet any of those conditions, so it’s a welcome relief to see Sorry We Are French doing it so well. It might not be worth mentioning, but my copy didn’t come with sticky dots to seal the player boards shut, but having spoken to the UK distributor it sounds like it was missed in the first run. The screen-printed wooden pieces are great, the cards and iconography are really well done, and I’m impressed with the A4 card aids for each corporation. It’s great to be able to hand them around the table so players can answer their own questions.

I’ve played Shackleton base with nine different people now, and all of them have enjoyed it. The two-player game feels a little tepid to me compared to three or four, so maybe that’s worth bearing in mind, but overall this is a really good game. A clean, easy-to-grasp Euro game, with plenty of room to experiment with your approach, and a ton of variability with the seven included corps and asymmetric leader tiles. It’s also a game in which I can honestly say I don’t have to continuously refer to the rulebook to check, which is a sign of good design in my books. Shackleton Base is an easy recommendation for me to make.

Review copy kindly provided by Hachette Boardgames UK. Thoughts & opinions are my own.

Shackleton Base: A Journey to the Moon (2024)

Design: Fabio Lopiano, Nestore Mangone
Publisher: Sorry We Are French
Art: David Sitbon
Players: 1-4
Playing time: 60-120 mins

The post Shackleton Base Review appeared first on Punchboard.

From the ground up

When I started writing that opening paragraph I had to choose which games I referenced several times. It struck me that many of the games that spring to mind when I think of two-player fare are spin-offs of existing games. 7 Wonders Duel. Splendor Duel. Cosmic Encounter Duel. Those that aren’t spin-offs are usually small board games or card games. Lost Cities, Battleline, Jaipur, Patchwork, Sky Team, etc. Ironwood bucks both trends by being both a two-player game from the get-go and delivering a full-size board game simultaneously.

Ultimately size doesn’t matter (apparently), but it’s a feeling which permeates the game everywhere. Ironwood is a premium two-player game. Wooden and metal playing pieces in the bog-standard (in fact, only) version of the game you can buy just reinforce that feeling. The setting of the game pits the forest-dwelling Woodwalkers against the industrial mining might of the Ironclad. Both are vying for control of the land of Ironwood and the crystals therein. It’s a pretty cool twist on the ordinary area control game because the two factions never share a space. The Woodwalkers can only stay in the forest spaces while the Ironclad are restricted to the rocks of the mountains, and never the twain shall meet. They just fight where the borders meet.

As is becoming more common in two-player games, the two sides are asymmetric. Each has its own deck of dual-use cards that drive the actions in the game. To paint the game with broad brush strokes, the Ironclad want to create forges in the mountains, harnessing the power of their great drill and building foundations, while the Woodwalkers use visions to locate ancient totems and to escort them back to the outskirts of the forest. It really works, too. Each side feels very different to play, even if the essence of the actions is the same. Movement is movement. Adding warbands is adding warbands. They feel fundamentally different to play as though, and that’s where a lot of Ironwood’s replay value comes from.

Balance

If you’ve played games with a decent level of asymmetry before, you know how important balance is, and how it can often feel missing in your first plays. Ironwood does the same. Woodwalkers – in my experience – felt like the faction who make the early progress, while the Ironclad take longer to build, but then have the potential to snowball later in the game. It’s a bit like Cats vs Birds in Root. The Woodwalkers have a consistent, rhythmic beat to their progress, while the Ironclad feel like spinning up a flywheel. That’s how playing Ironwood felt to me in my first games.

The important thing is the balance, and I’m happy to say that in my experience the game feels very well balanced. I’ve won and lost almost the same number of games as each faction, and while some of that will come down to the quality of the opponent, I feel like any inherent imbalances would have reared their ugly little heads by now. For sure, the Woodwalkers feel easier to do well with, and I’d advise giving them to new players while they learn the game, but with a game or two under your belt, you should have enough of an understanding to make a stand with either faction.

The feeling of a struggle is really well imparted by the game. The unknown locations of the totems mean that no two games will follow exactly the same flow. When combat happens, it uses a system I really enjoy. Each player can play a card from their hand, face-down. The cards are revealed, any bonuses from things like Golems are added, and the damage applied. If the opponent’s attack is higher than your defence, you lose units equal to the difference. However, and this is the fun bit, combat doesn’t end there. Once the punches have been thrown and bloodied noses wiped clean, a second value on the cards is checked – Dominance. As long as you still have a standing unit, you still have skin in the game. The side with the higher dominance can force any remaining losers to retreat, and they decide where to. Spicy!

Final thoughts

I’m really impressed with Ironwood. In every area it could make the effort to deliver something more than the minimum viable product, it does. The components are the sort you’d pay extra for in a deluxe game. The board isn’t tiny just because it’s for two players. It doesn’t feel like a multiplayer game re-imagined for two. The rulebook is, for the most part, excellent too. You can easily learn to play the game without the need for a video. I’m really pleased that Mindclash are offering this ‘Mindclash Play’ line of games, because it’s offering a hand to those who want to play their heavier games without diving in at the deep end.

The card-play in Ironwood is especially good. I love that the cards are used for their actions or their combat values. It forces you to make all kinds of judgment choices all of the time. One really clever part of the game’s design is to give each faction three core cards which are never lost. Even if you wager them in combat, they still return to your hand instead of the discard pile at the end of the round. Why does this matter? The game doesn’t give you enough rope to hang yourself with. You’ll never find yourself with a turn with no actions to take, because you’ll always be able to do the important things. A Splotter game this is not.

It’s worth mentioning that Ironwood comes with a fully-fledged solo bot to play against should you find yourself without an opponent. I tried it out for a game and found it a little fiddly, but far from impossible to run. There are a few flowchart-like actions to work out priority, but on the whole it seemed very smooth. This is a duelling game though, and at its best when you’re sat opposite someone trying to read their mind. It’s easy to learn, offers plenty of strategic and tactical choices, and throws in some clever cardplay and a nice twist on combat. For a touch over £40 when it releases here in retail, for a game that feels so premium, it’s crazy good value. If you have a regular player two, Ironwood is a fantastic game that tickles that part of my brain which Root does for four players. Highly recommended.

Review copy kindly provided by Mindclash Games. Thoughts & opinions are my own.

Ironwood (2024)

Design: Maël Brunet, Julien Chaput
Publisher: Mindclash Games
Art: Villő Farkas, Qistina Khalidah
Players: 1-2
Playing time: 30-60 mins

The post Ironwood Review appeared first on Punchboard.

Suckers for worship

The idea behind the game puts you in the position of a worshipper of the great Cosmoctopus. Not much is known about the spacefaring creature, but as devotees, you are trying to bring him to your realm and to prove yourself the greatest, most devout worshipper.

So how does this all work as a game? It’s basically an engine-builder with a bit of point-to-point movement and resource management thrown in for good measure. There’s a 3×3 grid of tiles on the table and the plastic octopus head sits atop one of them. On your turn you’ve got to move the head to an adjacent tile and then collect whatever’s displayed on it. After you’ve done that you can play a card from your hand if you have the resources to pay for it.

Cards fall into one of four types, each with their own effects. Black cards – Scriptures – show a resource on them and give you that as a permanent discount for the rest of the game. Yellow cards – Relics – boost certain actions. It might give you an extra yellow resource every time you gain one for example, which might influence how you play for the rest of the game. Hallucinations are the red cards which give you a one-and-done bonus. Finally, there are Constellation (blue) cards, and these are the ones most of your focus will go on.

Once you’ve played a Constellation to your player area, any time in the future you gain the relevant resource you can add it to the card instead. Fill a card and you get to take a tentacle and add it to your own Summoning tile. Get eight tentacles and you complete the summoning of his most glorious octopusness and win the game.

Putting it all out there

I don’t normally go as in-depth with an explanation of the mechanisms and effects of a game as I have above, but it’s with good reason. If you’ve played any kind of engine-building game before, you know enough to be able to play Cosmoctopus now, which is a testament to how clean and simple the game design is. The designer, Henry Audubon, does this style of game so well. His previous hit, Parks (read my review here), is the perfect example of what I’m talking about.

What I really like in Cosmoctopus is the addition of the point-to-point movement of the octo head. Throwing in the spatial navigation element is great, it breaks your train of thought up enough to keep your brain whirring, without making things so complicated you forget what you were doing. It also gives the game an avenue to make things interesting and trickier once you’ve got the hang of it. Moving to adjacent tiles on a 3×3 grid is pretty easy, especially knowing you can spend resources to move extra spaces. When the layout looks like an S or an O, some tiles can end up quite a distance away.

Little touches like this in a game matter, especially when the game is aimed at new gamers, or fans of lighter games. People who probably don’t have collections of games in the hundreds, who buy a game expecting to play it more than once or twice a year (some of you out there are probably feeling seen right now). A smaller box, cheap price, and varied replayability really matter, and I applaud Paper Fort and Lucky Duck for delivering on it.

Keeping an eye on the time

I want to take a moment to call out something important, and that’s the length of the game. Be wary of how long the game takes. On page 12 of the rulebook it tells you how to play a shorter game by giving all players 3 tentacles to start the game with. If you’re playing it with younger or less-experienced players, I strongly recommend doing this.

Once you understand how to play Cosmoctopus properly you’ll find you have really fruitful turns. You’ll be gathering up handfuls of resources, playing a card every turn, and most importantly of all, fulfilling parts of multiple constellation cards at once. It’s a great feeling when you get your engine purring like that, but it doesn’t usually happen for most players’ first games. When it’s not firing on all cylinders, progress can be slow growing, and those tentacles can take a long time to emerge from the astral depths.

In my first game with my son, it took ages to get those first tentacles sprouting. Given that turns are pretty snappy, it meant that we had a huge number of turns each with the octopus pinging back and forth on the tiles like a pinball. I could see his interest waning, and I totally understood. If you want to bring new players into the hobby, you might only get one good chance so don’t spurn it because of misguided gamer pride telling you ‘play it properly or not at all’. Basically, get over yourself, play the short game, and make sure everyone has a good time.

Final thoughts

Confession time. When I first saw pictures of Cosmoctopus when the Kickstarter fulfilment started landing on doorsteps, it didn’t fill me with excitement. I committed the cardinal sin of judging a game by how light and thin I assumed it was. I was wrong to do so, because Cosmoctopus has a lot going on in terms of game design and in terms of how important a gateway game it could be for some people.

The simple turns combined with bright visuals and wonderfully tactile pieces are a winner. You can happily teach a table of four how to play in a few minutes and see the cogs turning after just a couple of turns. If your players get on with Cosmoctopus it opens a whole world of possibilities for next-step games. Terraforming Mars and Wingspan become distinctly doable, and from there – well, I’m sure I don’t need to tell some of you how deep and slippery that rabbit hole becomes.

There’s a really clever automa player you can introduce to the game to either play solo, or add to a multiplayer game to turn it into a co-op game instead. It’s really easy to run and opens up the potential to lead players by the hand in co-op games to really help them understand how strategy works.

Heavy gamers are unlikely to enjoy Cosmoctopus as anything more than an occasional filler game, but fans of lighter games, families dipping their toes in the waters of modern board games, and those of you who are part of a group that welcomes new members from time to time will take a lot from it. Just playing with the pieces is enough to bring a smile to your face, and the rulebook’s suggestion to turn the head to look at the next player is genius. I’ve got a lot of respect for Henry’s game design, and Cosmoctopus just deepens it. A clever, engaging, fun engine-builder that delivers on its goals, and then some.

Review copy kindly provided by Lucky Duck Games. Thoughts and opinions are my own.

Cosmoctopus (2023)

Design: Henry Audubon
Publisher: Paper Fort Games / Lucky Duck Games
Art: George Doutsiopoulos
Players: 1-4
Playing time: 60-90 mins

The post Cosmoctopus Review appeared first on Punchboard.

Rondels in disguise

The first thing you’ll notice after you’ve punched out the million (that might be an exaggeration…) cardboard tulip tokens is the funky interlocking gear wheels. Each player has one, and both of the wheels have actions on them. On your turn you rotate the left wheel the required number of spaces (more on that later), which in turn rotates the right wheel. You pick one of the two actions – or sometimes both – now indicated on the board and do that thing.

Now, being the astute lover of rondels that I am, it didn’t escape my attention that what we’re dealing with here are actually two interlocking rondels. The difference between these and something like my beloved Hamburgum (read the review here) is that instead of moving a pawn around a rondel, we’re moving the rondel itself and letting a printed arrow take the place of the pawn. You might also notice that the spokes of the wheels are raised, leaving recessed segments between them. That’s because as the game goes on you’ll add action segments to the wheel to either boost or replace the pre-printed ones.

You might think it makes coming up with a strategy easy. Add complementary actions to opposite wheels, and every time they cycle around you end up with a supercharged turn. Not so, makker. The wheel on the left has six sections, while the one on the right only has five. Given that you’ll only get to rotate the bigger wheel four or five times at the most, those stars won’t align after their first meeting. It’s actually pretty tricky to figure out which two are going to meet a long way in advance, especially as you don’t know how many segments that wheel is going to turn when it comes to your turn.

Flooding the market

So what are you actually doing in the game with all of these actions? Your biggest priority is growing tulips. Ideally growing them in neat rows of matching colours, while making sure you don’t repeat the same colour in each column. In addition to getting points for complete rows and columns, you’ll also get VPs for tulips of certain colours if you manage to get their associated windmills out on the main board. This is where my ignorance of The Netherlands’ topology and history reared its head. It’s not a country famous for flour or bread, so why all the windmills?

If, like me, you didn’t already know, they needed those thousands of windmills to pump excess water from the lowlands. It’s a country that’s famously flat and close to sea level, which means flooding is, and always has been, a real concern. You can’t grow tulips in fields more akin to rice paddies. Before you take a turn you can optionally open the floodgates. The floodgate marker has three spaces, and the space it’s on dictates how far your action wheel turns. At the bottom it’s one segment, the middle is two, and the top is – you guessed it – three. Opening them costs money but rewards you with VPs and allows you to get the actions you want back in range more quickly.

It creates a really interesting tug-of-war between the players, especially when there are more than two players. One person might be desperately trying to get an action back in range, flooding the place with reckless abandon, while the others want to keep the gates closed so they can milk every action on the way around. The longer the gates are open, the more the flood marker moves along its track, and in a nice thematic callback, you can get rewards for using actions to lower it. Turns out all those windmills you’re building aren’t just to make an interesting skyline. Pump water out, get rewarded with money and/or VPs. Living the capitalist dream.

Networking opportunities

One of the things Windmill Valley does really nicely is the way it ties different game mechanisms together. Along with the rondelesque action selection, the bustling market area where you jostle for position and aim to get the most tulips or planting opportunities, there’s also the very pretty main section of the board. It represents adjoining fields of brightly coloured tulips, and at the junctions of each of the roads which separate the fields, there’s a space to build a windmill.

Each windmill that gets built has to be able to trace a path of previously built windmills back to the market in the middle of the board. They don’t have to be your own, but for every windmill that isn’t yours that your path traces, the owner gets a victory point, and they soon add up. As you venture further out from the market the building spaces get more expensive, but offer more rewards, as you take the actions and resources from the adjacent fields. This is all before we even take into account the helper cards which either slot into the top of your board to reward you with things like more powerful actions, or into the bottom to offer more end-of-game scoring opportunities.

Each little piece of the puzzle contributes towards a really tight, enjoyable game with a passive but ever-present level of player interaction. There’s no take-that. There’s no directly screwing someone over, but the consequences of one player’s choices for their own benefit can send out big ripples of annoyance to the others. I love it. I love it when something in a game throws grit in the gears of your plans and you’re forced to adapt, and never has that analogy been more apt.

There’s plenty of scope for mitigation, not least of which being the tool tokens which you can use to increase or decrease the number of steps your wheels move on your turn. Even if you don’t have any tools, you’re never forced to move further than you want to because you can just choose to close the gates for free at the beginning of your turn. In doing that, however, you open the gate – so to speak – for the following players to open it again and add more VPs to their tally.

Final thoughts

Windmill Valley is a really good game. Bang in the middle of medium-weight with enough going on to satisfy heavyweight nerds like me without causing brain burn in less-experienced players. The components are really nicely made and satisfying to play with, even if punching out 200 tiny tulips is a ballache. The rulebook is clear and concise, and the game itself is a doddle to teach. The player aids are great, and the appendix in the rulebook is ideal too. My biggest complaint about the stuff which comes in the box is the sheer size of it all. The board is huge and by the time you add a player board and a set of action wheels for each player, you’re not getting everyone around a 1m x 1m table.

I think Windmill Valley shines with three players. The level of competition around the windmill network is just right and the game doesn’t drag. It’s still very enjoyable with two and four, but I haven’t had the time to take the solo mode out for a spin. The passive interaction is great, and naturally I love the rondel nature of the action wheels. It reminds me of Parks (read my review here) actually in that respect. Racing to the next full rotation and progressing to the next calendar track section (equivalent to the end of the track in Parks) might get you the best rewards, but at what cost? How much will you regret skipping those actions?

My biggest worry for Windmill Valley is how well it finds its audience. I applaud Board&Dice for branching out and diversifying from the heavyweight browns of the T series of games, but I can’t help wondering who is going to choose a game about windmills and tulips. Hopefully, plenty of people do, because I think this is a great example of everything a modern Euro game should be. Clean design, clear rules, bright boards, and just the right amount of mental overhead. I don’t want it to slip between the cracks and get overlooked. After Arborea and Barcelona, Dani Garcia is doing some great things, and Windmill Valley is another fine example of what to expect from him.

Review copy kindly provided by Board&Dice. Thoughts and opinions are my own.

Windmill Valley (2024)

Design: Dani Garcia
Publisher: Board&Dice
Art: Pedro Codeço, Zbigniew Umgelter
Players: 1-4
Playing time: 60-90 mins

The post Windmill Valley Review appeared first on Punchboard.

By using a combination of dice, cards, and resources in a way I’ve not encountered before, Ultimate Voyage feels fresh. It feels different and unfamiliar. The layers of strategy mixed with the unknown all go toward making a game that almost certainly has no counterpart in your collection, so if you’re looking for something different to bolster your shelves, this may well be it.

There’s a lot going on in the game, but I’ll do my best to summarise. Ultimate Voyage is set around the final voyage of Zheng He. He is regarded as the greatest admiral in Chinese history. The game sees you taking the role of one of a number of different characters joining He in his travels. You’ll explore, trade, build, engage in combat, and even diplomatic relations with nations from East Asia to Africa and the Middle East.

Action stations

The core of Ultimate Voyage revolves around the action card system. In a nod to games like Ark Nova, each of the cards above your player board is used for a different action. Sailing, Combat, Building, Trade etc. I mentioned Ark Nova because the position of each card dictates its power. The card on the left has a strength of one, the card on the right has five power. That’s where the similarities end though. Cards can gain power-ups adding +1 or +2 to their actions, and each round sees three deity dice rolled which players share. The dice’s values are applied to three dials on your player board, and by discarding one you can add its value to an action’s strength.

When you use a card you ‘tap’ it by turning it 90 degrees. In an unusual twist though, you can still use that card again in the same round, but a tapped card has a base strength of zero. Enough extras from spent resources and dials means that you can still get some value from it. I really like this idea. You can truly min-max and go for that double combat round to really put the cat among the pigeons.

It’s when the round ends that things take another twist. If you’re used to Ark Nova you know that when a card is used it slides to the left, bumping the others to the right. Ultimate Voyage messes with the status quo a bit. When the round ends and your unspent cards slide to the right, the cards you used slide to the left, but you choose their relative order. So if that Trade card you really wanted to use would be in the first slot by default, you can choose to move it up to the third instead. It’s a really interesting twist which means no more dead turns while you wait for the actions you want to use to increase in power.

The spirit of adventure

This is a game of exploration and adventure. Lots of games offer the feeling of exploration in differing ways. Flipping tiles to see what’s on the other side for example, like in Revive (review here). Exploration in Ultimate Voyage is different and truly random. When you first sail you ship into an unexplored region you roll one of the deity dice to determine its standing. You could get really lucky and find that you immediately have great relations with you – happy days! Or you might roll badly and find that the port is actively hostile. In theory, you could uncover hostile port after hostile port, meaning your next turns are built around trying to do something about them.

Some people won’t like this. They like to know there’s some determinism in proceedings. They like to know “If this port is hostile, it means none of the others will be, so they’re safe to explore”. Personally, I really like this system. It means the map feels different every time you play. Sometimes you’ll be charging through the seas with reckless abandon, other times it’s more like tip-toeing around in a stealth pedalo.

There are lots things you can choose to do while you’re at sea, too, which means the game can get pretty asymmetric, pretty quickly. Although you’re all navigating the same waters and still at the whim of the meteorological gods (each round has favourable winds in one direction, and you may encounter a storm), you might be doing very different things, especially if you choose to lean into your character’s speciality. The Merchant, for instance, begins the game with a boosted trade action. Getting into port and seeing what’s on offer to fill your hold with might be your focus, while the Commander with his +2 combat action is out looking for trouble.

Spoiled for choice

Ultimate Voyage feels more like a 4X game than your standard pick-up-and-deliver. There’s so much going on that you can approach each game differently to see how things work out for you. There’s a big porcelain tower at the starting area of Nanjing, but you don’t have to contribute towards building it at all if you don’t want to. You each have some little wooden buildings to deploy, but as well as building at the ports you visit, you can build on your player boards too to increase your income of troops and porcelain – the game’s two resource types.

You might excel at diplomacy and create tributaries in some of the ports you visit, but like a high-maintenance spouse, they need attention. If you don’t keep a ship in port at the end of a round your reputation with the city deteriorates. No problem, just build more ships. But now you’re building ships when you wanted to be trading and engaging in naval warfare. The game has a sandbox feel to it, letting you play in the seas to figure out your own path to victory. That might not be for everyone, some people like more structure to their games. It’s better to know that ahead of time, which is why I’m telling you now.

You can even create semi-alliances with the other players, offering support for their combat encounters in return for… well, I’ll leave the details up to you. The point is, that it’s very unusual for this style of game of throw-in semi-coop parts to what’s unfolding on the board, and I respect the heck out of the designer for trying something different.

The biggest downside to all this variability and different ways to approach the game is that it’s pretty tough to learn. Working out the strength of an action and how that can be applied to the various actions adds a mental overhead. I recommend approaching your first play as an exercise in pulling levers and pushing buttons and seeing what happens, because it won’t be immediately apparent how to build a strategy.

Final thoughts

Ultimate Voyage is a unique game. A contract-fulfilment, area control, pick-up hybrid which would feel like more like a 4X game if there was PvP combat. The card system is a really nice tweak to something that feels immediately familiar if you’re used to Ark Nova, but with much more scope to do unusual things.

It plays from one to four players, but for me this is a game which thrives with more people. It works with two, and it’s still enjoyable, but it’s better with three and four. I think that comes down to the way the map gets limited with two players. It has you block out half the map so that you can’t visit lots of places. I appreciate that it keeps the action in a smaller, more concentrated area, but it also means you never venture as far west as Africa and the Middle East, and you don’t quite get that same feeling of heading out on a grand voyage.

All of that said, what Leonard and his team have created as a debut game is very impressive. A big vision, and a really unusual setting and theme which feels exotic and fresh to me. I’ve played so many games set in and around European history that the introduction to Zheng He and his stories is very welcome. Take all I’ve said here with a small pinch of salt because it is still in a prototype form, and even in the short time I had the game here there were several amendments and changes made.

If the setting and the idea of a game that does something differently to most other games you’ve played appeals to you, keep an eye out for Ultimate Voyage when it on the preorder site.

Preview copy kindly provided by Little Monks. Thoughts and opinions are my own.

Ultimate Voyage (2025)

Designer: Leonard To
Publisher: Little Monks
Art: Faangoi
Players: 1-4
Playing time: 60-120 mins

The post Ultimate Voyage Preview appeared first on Punchboard.

Rolling up a new one

Let’s have a show of hands. How many of you love the start of a new role-playing game? Whether it’s tabletop or digital, who really enjoys that session zero – the session where you all make your characters for the upcoming game? Maybe you spend a week crafting a new rogue for your group’s new D&D game. Maybe you find joy in spending six hours in the character editor for Fallout 4, trying to make him look exactly like Steve Buscemi. For me it’s clicking the Randomise button at the start of a new game of Rimworld and tweaking the crazy quarter-dozen of people it churns out, trying to get the mix just right.

Keith Matejka (if the name seems familiar, I interviewed him a while ago) latched on to this concept and created a whole game out of it, and while it sounds like something that maybe shouldn’t work for a board game, it does.

The idea of Roll Player is that each player is creating a character for some game that doesn’t exist. At least, that game didn’t exist at first. The Monsters & Minions expansion gave your heroes creatures to battle, and Roll Player Adventures is a full-on campaign which you can bring your Roll Player characters into. Regardless, the aim of the game is just to craft that character. Your player board gives you your race (elf, human, orc, etc.), and randomly drawn cards give you your class, alignment, and backstory. So you might end up with a street urchin, halfling warrior who you’re trying to steer towards lawful good.

So how do you do it? Well, in an RPG you’d expect to spend points in various attributes like Wisdom, Dexterity, Strength and so on, and you do the same here. While there’s nary a D20 in sight, there’s still plenty of dice to be rolled.

What is this – Lords of Vegas?

Most of the game revolves around drafting dice from the initiative cards in the middle of the table. There’s a juicy choice here right away. The lowest value dice go on the earlier cards sooner in initiative order, and initiative is what dictates who gets to pick first from the card market each round. You might see a card for sale which completes your set of armour, potentially netting you a bucketload of points, but in order to be sure to claim it first, you’ve got to take that 1-pip black die. What are you going to do with it?

I’ll tell you what you’ll do with it. The same thing you do with all the other dice you pick up during the game. You put them in the sockets on your board in one of the attribute rows. Sounds easy, but there’s a ton of stuff to consider with every die placement. First up, each row has a goal value dictated by your class card. So your strength row might net you 4VPs for getting 18 points in it, but that means getting three 6-pip dice in there.

You’ve also got your backstory card to consider. You can get rewards here if certain coloured dice are in specific positions on your board at the end of the game. On top of that there’s a reward of two gold every time you take a yellow die, or there might be bonuses for collecting dice of certain colours based on cards you’ve bought. It might sound like a 1-pip placed in the wrong place would completely scupper you, but no, Roll Player has another trick up its wizard’s sleeve. Each attribute row has an associated bonus action which can help manipulate the dice you’ve already placed, among other things. Don’t like that 1-pip? Place a die in the top row to let you flip any already-placed die to its opposite side. All of a sudden that 1 is now a 6. Or you can swap dice, or bump them up or down a number. There’s lots of scope to change what’s already been done.

I tell you though, there’s something innately satisfying about socketing dice into little square holes. It reminded me of Lords of Vegas with all the coloured dice getting slotted into the board. The games are nothing alike, but it made me smile regardless. It may sound superficial of me, but I don’t think I’d enjoy the game as much if I placed the dice on top of the board.

Market-ready

I’ve only really touched on the card market, but it needs to be talked about, because it’s a really important part of the game. During the game, you’ll buy weapons which give you ongoing abilities, and skills which can be used once per round, as long as you can move your alignment cube in the direction the card dictates (do good things, the cube moves up towards good etc.). There’s an element of set-collection too, as you try to adorn your character in a complete set of armour, which will earn you points. There are also trait cards which do various things, and many of them offer you alternative routes for scoring at the end of the game.

Once you understand the impact of the cards and the competition for them, it suddenly places much more emphasis on the initiative order you get from claiming dice. Not to mention the fact that instead of buying a card, you can discard a card from the market row to gain two gold. It’d be a real shame if I discarded that piece of armour you need to complete your set, right?

The tussle and agonising choices the card market brings are so good. I really like the way that some of the cards can flip the game on its head too. There’s a great skill card that lets you flip and then reassign the dice on the initiative cards whenever you want to. Let’s say for example that all the dice get rolled as sixes, so you claim one, then use the skill to flip the remaining dice all to ones. Devilishly delicious.

The only thing I don’t really like is the way the market deck has cards removed from it in two- and three-player games. I understand why it does it, because the more powerful cards are at the bottom of the deck and you need to cycle through far enough to see them, but it means that some of the discarded cards back in the game box might be armour pieces you need to complete a set. Sure, you’ll get competition to claim them in a four-player game, but at least you know they’re all in the deck.

It’s a pretty small grumble though in the scheme of things.

Final thoughts

Roll Player is a very clever, very enjoyable game. The theme being creating characters for a game is so well chosen that it does some special things that might not be obvious. Firstly, it gets the players really invested in their characters, and their player boards. You get to make something that’s uniquely yours. The real magic though is the way it adds in so much game without slamming down a barrier in front of less-experienced board gamers.

The dice placement and its associated bonus actions. The dice manipulation. The card market and turn order strategy. Set-collection. Basic engine-building. In the wrong setting and wrong game they can be dense, confusing concepts and mechanisms. Somehow though, Roll Player feels light. I can try to teach this to just about anyone and feel confident in them having a good time, even if they don’t fully appreciate everything that’s going on or every option that’s at their fingertips.

As I mentioned above, there’s something indescribable and nebulous about the simple action of putting a die in a hole of the same shape. The tangible feeling of doing it is rewarding, without it being a toy or a gimmick. It’s just a nice thing to do, and in Roll Player you get to do it 18 times. Glorious.

If you’re worried about there not being enough meat on the bone for more hardcore gamers, you needn’t. While it’s not the heaviest game in the world, the dice-placement puzzle will have you scratching your head, as will adjusting your strategy on-the-fly when new, enticing cards pop into the market. Roll Player might be a couple of years old now, but there’s nothing that’s done this style of game better since its release in 2016, so if you’re after something a bit different that won’t swamp your table or make your wallet cry, it’s a great choice. I really like this game.

Review copy kindly provided by Thunderworks Games. Thoughts and opinions are my own.

Roll Player (2016)

Design: Keith Matejka
Publisher: Thunderworks Games
Art: JJ Ariosa, Vincent Dutrait, Luis Francisco
Players: 1-4
Playing time: 60-90 mins

The post Roll Player Review appeared first on Punchboard.

“Instead of the cross, the Albatross around my neck was hung”

Thalassophopia – a fear of deep waters. Whether it’s down to a genetic disposition to not be dragged into the inky-black fathoms beneath, or because we saw Jaws when we were kids and now check the bath for sharks, plenty of us have an innate ‘nope’ reaction to deep water. Writers have always written about the real or imagined horrors in the water, from Coleridge’s Rime of the Ancient Mariner and Jules Vernes’ 20000 Leagues Under the Sea (you really should check out Nemo’s War), through to the likes of H.P. Lovecraft’s short stories like the one I mentioned above, Dagon.

We can’t see what’s down there, so it’s easy to build a sense of unease and excitement about throwing a hook and line over the side of a boat and seeing what bites. Deep Regrets borrows this concept and throws a bucket of slimy chum into its churning waters. The idea is relatively simple. In each round of the game you either go out fishing on your little boat or stay at port to sell your catches and buy upgrades for your fishing business.

To perform actions you need to roll the wonderfully cute wooden D4 buoy dice and choose how to spend them. Moving into deeper water costs dice. Once you choose a shoal on the main board you flip the top card to see what “fish” is on offer and then try to land it by spending dice of its value. The rods and reels you can buy at port make your job easier with all sorts of cunning effects. The Rod of the Infinite for example lets you peek at the top three fish cards in a shoal deck and put them back in any order before you reveal one.

So far, so laissez-faire. Catch nice little fish and sell them at the market. It’s not just fish down there though, there are other things. Horrible things. Unspeakable things. Catching them will surely only lead to madness and compound your life’s regrets, and nobody wants that.

Or do they?

“I think I went mad then”

The things you catch in Deep Regrets fall into one of two categories: fair or foul. When you land a foul creature you draw regret cards, cards which represent the accumulated parts of a life lived badly. Regrets have different levels, ranging from “I lost my favourite sock”, right up to “Partook of human flesh”. The more regrets you collect, the greater your slip into madness. Don’t worry though, it’s not all bad.

The more regret cards you collect, the more your foul catches are worth when you return to port to do business. On the flip side of the coin, however, the value of your fair catches decreases. You see, you can make plenty of money by just landing and selling the nice, non-mutant fish that people actually want, where your lack of madness results in higher prices for fair catches. So why would you ever want to gain regrets and increase your madness?

This is one of my favourite parts of the game. In a nod to something more akin to an off-beat RPG, Judson nudges us towards madness. The higher your madness level, the more dice you can have at your disposal, which means deeper fishing and bigger fishes. It means more money, and more upgrades. It means you can mount those really valuable catches in your prized mounting slots above your board to multiply their worth at the end of the game. in fact if you can get your cube to the bottom of the madness track you even get a discount on upgrades. I guess the shopkeepers will do anything to get you out of their place of business as fast as they can, you weirdo.

Deep Regrets is a game of managing your madness rather than avoiding it. The only penalty you’re looking at for going completely hatstand is losing a mounted fish if you have the most regret at the end of the game.

Light in the darkness

This game is a lot of fun, let’s just get that out there right now. What it does brilliantly is to build the game around a lightweight rules framework. Nothing in Deep Regrets is complicated. Your actions are simple. It’s easy to teach. You’ll have new players up and running in a few minutes, and that’s perfect for the sort of person that’s likely to pick up a copy. Thanks to Judson’s amazing illustrations (check out the reviews I did for his previous game, Hideous Abomination), this is a game which is going to appeal to gamers and non-gamers alike. Everything about the game screams approachable, which is precisely what it needs.

The rulebook is excellent. Clearly laid out with good examples and plenty of lore and flavour text. It’s not even called a rulebook, it’s “The Angler’s Guide to Fishing”, which I love. Deep Regrets has clearly been through a ton of playtesting and iteration, and it shows. At one point with my preview copy I wanted clarification over the wording on a card. I thought it was a bit ambiguous so me being me, I shot Judson an email asking for clarification. I had to retract the email a couple of minutes later when I turned to the back of the book and found the appendix detailing exactly what I’d asked.

Stuff like this matters. It’s not even the final product yet, and it’s already a long way ahead of most prototypes I’m given, and better than plenty of final, retail productions. If the final version follows suit you’re going to be getting a primo product for your pounds.

The solo and co-op mode is also great. You’re still trying to catch whatever’s out there, but this time you have a chart and your upgrades persist through multiple playthroughs. Trying to catch everything and to complete the list is something which appeals to the lockdown Animal Crossing perfectionist in me.

Final thoughts

Deep Regrets is a blast. I was one of those bombarded with Facebook advertising for it a little while back, and it worked. I love the games I mentioned in my opening salvo, especially Dredge, and this game really hooks into (forgive me) that same feeling. The same ‘cosy port town meets unimaginable horrors from the deep’ aesthetic that it delivers in spades.

I’ve lauded the artwork before, but it’s worth distinguishing that from the graphic design. The backs of the shoal cards for example, at first glance all look the same, but you’ll soon notice that the shadows in the water on each are different sizes, alluding to the size – and therefore the difficulty in catching – whatever’s on the other side. Little touches like this and the iconography throughout are just great.

Don’t expect a game with deep, complex layers of nuance. It’s a game of flip a card, catch the fish, decide what to do with it, but it excels at it. This is a game you could happily teach to your non-gamer friends and they’d have a great time with it. If your group’s idea of oceanic strategy perfection is Dominant Species: Marine, you might be left wanting with Deep Regrets. But it’s not a game aimed at hardcore Euro nerds like myself. It’s a game aimed at everyone, which hey, includes me.

Yes, there’s luck involved. You roll dice to do everything. You flip cards with no way of knowing what’s on the other side. But that’s the soul of the game. There are ways to mitigate the luck through upgrades and things you dredge up from the ocean floor, and that’s where the strategy comes in. It’s not deterministic, but it’s a lot of fun, and you’ll be done in an hour and a half, leaving behind some belly laughs and some interesting life stories if you choose to craft a narrative from your regret cards.

I’m hopelessly biased in this one I’m sure. I love the setting. I love the artwork. I love Judson’s work ethic and the amount of love poured into this game, and the fun I’ve gotten from it. Make of that what you will, but I’ve no hesitation in recommending Deep Regrets when it launches on Kickstarter on July 1st.

Preview copy kindly provided by Tettix Games. Thoughts and opinions are my own. I also acknowledge that I’ve made jokes of ‘madness’ in this piece. As a supporter of mental health wellbeing, and someone who openly suffers with mental health problems, I hope this is taken in the manner in which it’s meant.

Deep Regrets (2024)

Design: Judson Cowan
Publisher: Tettix Games
Art: Judson Cowan
Players: 1-5
Playing time: 60-120 mins

The post Deep Regrets Preview appeared first on Punchboard.

My favourite pieces of classical music tend to either start or end strongly. With that in mind, this preview of Paverson Games latest title – Luthier – will start like Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D minor, starting with a headline. Luthier is a great game. A pipe organ cuts the silence. The blind bidding clack-clack-clack of the worker disc placement adds a rich, bright counterpoint to the by-the-books Euro format of collecting resources to fulfil goals. A toccata to its fugue, if you will. The result is a clean, competitive, engaging game. Heavier than medium-weight, without being too difficult to teach or pick up, but with a richness that rewards repeated play. Again, much like Bach’s piece. We all know how it starts, and the more you listen to it, the more you appreciate what comes after that familiar early exposition.

Booze and music – a festival?

I previewed Dave Beck’s previous game, Distilled, a long while ago. I really like that game, so I was excited to see an earlier prototype of Luthier back at the UK Games Expo in 2023 (show report here). It was little more than black squares on white paper at that time, but the mechanisms sounded really clever, and I loved the unusual theme. The promise of Vincent Dutrait’s artwork gave me confidence, and that confidence was rewarded when I saw the near-final prototype at this year’s UK Games Expo. Luthier is beautiful. Rich colours, gorgeous illustrations, and some pretty fantastic iconography.

The game places you in the role of a famous musical instrument-making family from the past. Your goal is to gather the materials you need, before crafting the finest musical instruments you can, fit for performances at the orchestra in the middle of the board. At the same time, art is imitating life through the patrons in the game. These are rich, powerful people who, if you can keep satisfied, will reward you with gifts. If you manage to fulfil all of their demands, their card ends up tucked behind your player board with ongoing bonuses for the rest of the game.

You might think you can just choose to ignore the patrons and concentrate on something else to build points, and while you technically can, you probably don’t want to. If you let a patron’s cube move all the way to the right as the rounds progress, they get tired of you and leave your family’s business, clobbering you with a loss of VPs (prestige points in Luthier’s parlance) in the process. This happened in reality. Patrons rewarded the arts for performances and productions, they invested in the families and their crafts.

In Luthier you have a game where your main goals and main source of points come from the various places these artisans touched with their craft. Patrons have a place on the board (the salon) where you can compete to add them to your family’s board. Instrument designs come from another contestable market. Performances are fought over in the same fashion, likewise repairs. All go towards your score, and all are involved in one of the main aims of the game, to claim First Chair for each instrument in the orchestra pit.

Harmony

Luthier is a strange one in some ways. As with many other Euro games, the theme strikes me as one that could have been replaced with something different relatively easily. We could be furniture makers making beautiful pieces and selling them. We could be painters creating masterpieces and vying for space in galleries. We could even be toymakers trying to be front-and-centre in Hamley’s window in London.

That said, however, the theme is integrated so well in Luthier that I don’t want a different one. I’ll admit I found a slight disconnect with the way the instruments just end up in First Chair, as do performance tokens. The performers themselves are never referenced or attributed, which felt odd at first, but then I realised I need to take a step back and understand that the entire game is viewed through the luthier’s lens. Their role starts and ends with the creation and repair of the instruments in their workshops. The instruments are used in the performances, but who uses them isn’t the focus of the game. Our main focus is to rough-out instruments before finishing them and creating things of beauty.

It all works so well together. The resources are limited to just three different types: animal products, wood, and metals. Removing the mental overhead needed to think about lots of different types of resources and manage any potential upgrade paths for them is an overlooked piece of game design in my opinion. At any moment in the game you can look at your player board, count the cubes in three colours, and know exactly what you can and cannot afford to do. This gives you the laser focus you need to concentrate on your strategy and your path to victory.

All of this is pulled together with the worker disc placement, which is my favourite part of the game. In turn order, each player places a disc at a time at the various spots on the board. Some of them are on your player boards, whereas the rest are shared spaces on the main board. All players can go to each space as many times as they like, but the interesting part is that each worker is a disc with a value printed on it, and they’re placed face-down in a stack. Each stack is resolved to determine turn order, with the highest value getting first pick of the cards at each respective market. In the event of a tie, which is common as all players start with a 1, 3, and 5 value chip each, it’s first-come, first-served.

It’s great. It adds drama three or four times to every round of the game in a way which is usually reserved for lighter, party-style games.

Final thoughts

If you haven’t guessed by now, I like Luthier a lot. It’s a looker for sure, and even with the early prototype, you’d be forgiven for thinking it was an Eagle-Gryphon game. It all feels premium. Vincent and Guillaume’s artwork is beautiful on the cards and the boards, and there’s nothing that feels out of place or confusing. It’s a game of threes, which pulls it all together nicely too. Three different resources, three types of instruments, and three types of performance. Maybe the future holds an expansion which adds to these, I don’t know, but as the game comes it feels like does enough without muddying the waters.

The hidden bidding worker placement doesn’t feel that important in your first game, which makes it easy to overlook its importance and its impact on the game. Once you make the connections though, it all hits you. The points from the public goals, each of which has different levels of completion (a bit like Ark Nova, a review of which you can read here), are dependent on completing certain types of patrons, or having instruments in different areas of the pit, or different numbers of rare instruments crafted, etc. When the cards you need to complete these goals appear in the market, the competition can be furious. Do you make a big statement and place your 5-chip in the Salon straight away to claim that patron? Or do you just slip your 1-chip there creating a false sense of competition, hoping the other players wage war for those cards while you quietly craft two instruments instead? How well do you think you can read the poker faces of your friends and family?

There’s more that I don’t have the time or space to tell you about in detail, for the sake of not turning this into a wall of text. The three tracks to move along for asymmetric boosts. The starting abilities and resources of each family being different. The dance you play in trying to keep your patrons satisfied while still competing on the main board, not only to keep them, but to keep their gifts coming. The only negative I really found during my time with the game was the ‘standard’ two-player game. It blocks some spots in the pit off and reduces the number of cards in the market to keep things competitive, but the drama and tension of the worker bidding doesn’t feel as juicy. The reason I put standard in quotes though is because you can add in the solo bot as a third player, which I recommend doing. There’s more to do in order to run the bot, but the competition is better. I much prefer playing at three and four players though. I love the metagame that takes place above the table between you and your friends.

There are still tweaks to come to the game between now and its release, but even in the state it’s in now, Luthier is a brilliant game. Music to my ears, like clapping along to the Radetzky March at the end of the New Year’s Day content from Vienna. Bravo!

Luthier launches on Kickstarter on July 16th 2024. You can sign up for updates or to back it here – Luthier Kickstarter page.

Luthier (2025)

Design: Dave Beck, Abe Burson
Publisher: Paverson Games
Art: Vincent Dutrait
Players: 1-4
Playing time: 90-120 mins

The post Luthier Preview appeared first on Punchboard.