I don’t know why dragons are so popular all of a sudden, but as a parent I’m genetically predisposed to be invested in the same things as my eleven-year-old… so bring on the dragons. Dragon Academy is the first expansion to Connie Vogelmann’s Wyrmspan, the heftier and more draconic alternative to Wingspan and Finspan, and it understands the fad even more intimately than the base game.

A pair of fledglings in variable states of training.

Of course, returning players can expect plenty of the usual stuff in this box. There’s more of everything. More caverns to excavate, more dragons to entice, more guilds to glide along, more objectives, more… well, those are the main mores of this particular set.

But the obvious headliners are the fledglings. These add a fifth type of dragon, padding the previous four-fold division between hatchlings and small, medium, and large body sizes. Like those sizes and/or phases of serpentine development, fledglings occupy their own niche. Where hatchlings needed to be nurtured and the various sizes were, um, pretty much there for scoring purposes, fledglings represent dragons in their adolescence. They’re useless and needy, in other words, although with some time and attention they can grow into the game’s most potent offerings.

They work like this. When you first entice a fledgling to your cavern, it has no abilities at all. In place of the usual talents and scoring options, it has unmet needs. Milk, meat, the beginnings of a modest hoard — dragon stuff. When your trainer stops by your fledgling’s nest during the course of routine exploration, you have the option of spending a resource to mark off the first of its needs. Upon visiting again, you can check off its next need. Some fledglings, but not all, have a third and fourth need as well.

Once a fledgling has had its needs met, it transforms. Now the purple ability at the bottom card is unlocked. These are all, to a one, rather powerful. The Naryoon Marsh Dragon lays an egg on every single card in its row or column. The Northern Pane Dragon draws both another dragon card and a cavern. The Leopard Cobrette provides three points for every dragon with gold in its cost. Oh, and fledglings increase in score as you attract more to your stable, encouraging prospective trainers to double down.

Passing now confers a benefit for the next round.

There’s another change in the expansion, one that’s less exciting to talk about but critical in how it reshapes the core game. Rather than receiving the default six dragon coins per round, now you determine your coins based on when you pass. Fewer coins is obviously not as good as more coins — my real-life accounting confirms as much — but claiming a lower number also confers some other bonus, like gaining eggs, resources, cards, or a pip on the guild track. This is a smart change, reducing the overall number of coins in the game and thereby trimming both the playtime and the likelihood that somebody will max out their mountain’s capacity.

Still, you know what’s considerably more interesting than passing bonuses or action limits? Dragons. This is the obvious highlight of Dragon Academy, and for good reason. My kiddo has always appreciated Wyrmspan, its increased complexity over its predecessor notwithstanding, and fledglings go a long way toward selling the idea that these are creatures to be cared for and interacted with, not mere bundles of traits and points. They still are that. Traits and points, I mean. But they’re more characterful than before, requiring at least marginal attention before everything but their numerals fades into the background.

And for those among us who feel no spark of imagination, fledglings provide good gameplay as well. They function as a tradeoff, asking whether their formidable powers are worth the up-front cost and gradual investment. On the whole, they cost less than their more developed peers — because what parent wouldn’t consider trading away their teenager for a formative year or two? — but without any immediate benefit they’re anything but obvious acquisitions. Even in the early game, every resource or card is hard-wrung from your spire, making the prospect of spending another few actions on a dragon who happens to sleep in until noon and won’t pick up their own den all the tougher to contemplate.

Anyway, back to the fledglings…

There isn’t much else to say about Dragon Academy. Then again, that’s one of its strengths. Rather than adding new resources or deeper complications, this is a trim but effective expansion, one that tightens the game’s waistline while also broadening its decision space and giving youngsters and dragon-lovers another reason to return.

Short version: when your kid pauses the session so you can look at the dragon they’ve just trained, that’s about as good as it gets.

A complimentary copy of Wyrmspan: Dragon Academy was provided by the publisher.

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