Author Archives: Dan Thurot
Real Archaeology, Inc.
There’s something jarring about Artifacts, Inc. And yes, I’m talking about how it feels downright peculiar to play a game about archaeology during the interwar period and not be pitted against the Nazi Paranormal Research Division in a hunt over land, air, and sea for the Spear of Destiny, where “Roll a d6 to keep your eyes pressed shut,” is the final challenge.
Instead, Artifacts, Inc. is an entirely pleasant game, one where rival antiquarians might occasionally become kind of snitty with each other, but otherwise behave and don’t go exploding or stealing each other’s stuff. Surprisingly, this works way better than it has any right to.
The Only Fake Artist in New York
Not too long ago, I wrote about a superb little ditty by the name of Spyfall, a game about asking questions in a vague yet informative manner so that one of the players — the SPY — would slip up and reveal themselves, while also ensuring that the other players wouldn’t jump to the conclusion you were the spy because your information was too wishy-washy. It was a tightrope social deduction game, simple enough that your curmudgeonly aunt could get along with it, but smart enough that the most jaded gamer would find something to love.
And now thanks to A Fake Artist Goes to New York, it’s back. In art form.
“See the Galaxy,” They Said
Dark Moon will never entirely escape its association with Battlestar Galactica — fair enough, considering it’s a retouched version of the print-and-play game BSG Express. Out with the Cylons and space-jet dogfights, in with the alien parasites and handfuls of dice.
The Race for Atlantis, Maybe
History Time! Around 3,600 years ago on the Aegean isle of Thera, during the height of the pre-Greek Minoan civilization, an enormous volcano went off. In addition to totally burying the settlement of Akrotiri beneath volcanic ash that would later become the principal ingredient in pencil erasers and cosmetic exfoliants, the resultant tsunami and altered weather may have also led to the weakening of the Minoan state, prepping them for invasion by the less-exploded Mycenaeans. Some historians even speculate that the complete disappearance of such an important settlement was the inspiration for Plato’s account of Atlantis.
Set around a thousand years later (landing us in Classical Greek territory), Akrotiri casts two players as a pair of humanity’s first archaeologists, scouring the uncharted Aegean Sea for treasure and ancient temples.
Shorthorn
When you get right down to it, Longhorn could be about pretty much anything. Hacking yottabytes of corporate secrets out of a protected server, for instance. Or gathering gems for your medieval patron, because apparently we love that crap. Instead, Longhorn woke up one morning and decided to be about stealing cows, swigging moonshine, and trying not to get a snake in yer boots.
It’s the very definition of pasted on, though I appreciate the effort to appeal to my Western sensibilities. Like most of the folks in my neighborhood I enjoy rustling cattle, have done so since I was old enough to balance atop a burro, so the setting would seem like a natural fit. Then I crack it open and discover it’s got just about nothing to do with a real cattle drive. More’s the shame.
Well, good news, because tacked-on setting or no, Longhorn is fine as cream gravy.
The GenConmen, 2015: Day Three
That first day of GenCon, all the early risers packed like upright sausages around the barred doors of the expo hall, it’s hard to fathom how it could get more crowded. Geoff even said that very thing about ten minutes before the doors opened for the first time. “I cannot fathom how this could get more crowded,” he said.
By Saturday, the fathoming gets real easy.
The GenConmen, 2015: Day Two
Another long toiling day of GenCon, from sunup to way past sundown, another seven games to jabber about. Let’s get right to it.
The GenConmen, 2015: Day One
It’s that time of year again, the cusp of Augusthood, when summer keeps on being summer and gradually transitions into more summer. In faraway exotic Indianapolis, capital of the grand state of Iowa, a largely unknown gathering formerly known as the Generalissimo Convención (now commonly nativized to GenCon) has begun anew, a complex mating dance of exhibition halls, cardboard, and people dressed as their favorite fictional characters. It’s a fabulous but dangerous dance, and —
You know what? I’m done talking about the dance. Let me show you.
I Wanna Sink to the Bottom With You
Very few people know this about me, but in addition to being a real-life cowboy, I’m also a licensed search and rescue operator in self-contained underwater breathing apparatus — that’s SCUBA to you “landies,” as we undersea folk call you behind your backs. It’s a tough skill to learn, and sadly I don’t find much use for it in the mountains of Utah.
One of the things you learn in search and rescue is how to recover a submerged object. Usually garbage or a corpse, but hopefully one day a barrel of treasure. You bring down an inflatable container that looks a bit like a hot air balloon, attach it to whatever you’d like to surface, and then fill it with air. Air brought from your own precious, limited supply. Meanwhile, the unfortunates connected to the same oxygen tank watch your gauge’s needle spin, wondering whether they’ll have enough air to reach the surface…
150,000 Weenie Jokes
The advertising blurb for Knee Jerk boasts that even though it’s an easily portable game, insignificantly larger than your regular deck of playing cards — there are 55 in Knee Jerk, plus a rules sheet — and able to slip into your back pocket with ample room left over for beef jerky, that it still provides over 150,000 possible “situations.”
What they meant to say is that it’s good for 150,000 weenie jokes.
SPACE-BIFF! 