Category Archives: Board Game
Doctor Congo, I Presume?
As a medium, board games tend to revolve around tried-and-true topics, uncontroversial subject matter like surviving a zombie apocalypse or building a medieval town. This is hardly surprising; with their focus on social interaction and optimal move-making, there isn’t often much room left over for heady discussion — say, of the obstacles facing a developing African nation. At best, the game will be scrutinized for casting its controversial setting as “play,” or perhaps even more damningly, for not focusing enough on the play. At worst, it could come across as downright ignorant or offensive.
DRCongo, the latest title from Ragnar Brothers, embraces the controversy. Not only is it set within the Democratic Republic of the Congo, casting its players as industrialists who collect diamonds, deploy peacekeepers to suppress insurgents, buy political offices, and get filthy rich extracting oil and minerals from the Congolese countryside, it also posits that its magnates are forces of benevolence, employing their wealth to bring about an era of stability. In essence, you will take part in some extremely spurious activities, but the end goal is surprisingly admirable.
If nothing else, DRCongo is hopelessly optimistic.
Ashes: The Gathering
A specter is haunting card games — the specter of Magic: The Gathering. It’s an inescapable, all-consuming glutton, and it leaves hardly any room at your friendly local game shop, just a few leftover tables at the rear. But perhaps, just perhaps, Magic will one day be vanquished. Maybe somebody will come along and beat it at its own game, and we will cheer and celebrate and share candied yams and forever be as one, for all men are brothers. And then, years later, we will complain about how beloved this usurper is, and how universally available, and how it only leaves us the tables with the most pronounced corn dog stains, and we will look back on the days of Magic as those of a golden age.
Sadly, Ashes: Rise of the Phoenixborn is probably not the title that will unseat the king. Though that has nothing to do with how awesome it is.
Kid Gamez
Dear Matagot, publisher of Ultimate Warriorz:
Did you see what I did with the title of this article? How I — sans talent or creativity — transformed “games” into “gamez”? Did you feel a shudder of professional contempt when you saw that? Was the breath sucked from your lungs in a paroxysm of disdain? Did you seriously contemplate depositing some hate mailz into my inbox?
Now you know how I feel whenever I play Ultimate Warriorz. No matter how great the game itself is, I will never ever be able to unsee that inverted S. Please use the correct spelling of words from now on. Misspelling is not cute. It is not fun. It is not whimsical. On the contrary, it’s worse than genocide.
The Court of Xiang Todd
It’s been far too long since I’ve highlighted anything from my favorite print-and-play designer, Todd Sanders, whose games are consistently interesting, easy on the eyes, and completely free, provided your local library doesn’t charge for printing. The trick is to bring your own card stock and perform the ol’ Thurot eyebrows dance. I’ve yet to meet an octogenarian whose heart won’t go sticky as molasses once my eyebrows have had their way. Mmhm.
Back on topic! Todd’s latest solo game is a ditty called The Court of Xiang Chi, about managing three different clans, navigating the intrigue of the court, and scoring as many points as possible. Oh, and also living in constant fear that those damnable Daemon Princes will show up and whisk away your ministers to serve the Daemon Court. Exactly like it happened in Real History.
Wreathes and Tombs and Hearses
Dark clouds are smouldering into red
__While down the craters morning burns.
The dying soldier shifts his head
__To watch the glory that returns;
He lifts his fingers toward the skies
__Where holy brightness breaks in flame;
Radiance reflected in his eyes,
__And on his lips a whispered name.
You’d think, to hear some people talk,
__That lads go west with sobs and curses,
And sullen faces white as chalk,
__Hankering for wreaths and tombs and hearses.
But they’ve been taught the way to do it
__Like Christian soldiers; not with haste
And shuddering groans; but passing through it
__With due regard for decent taste.
________— “How to Die,” Siegfried Sassoon, 1917
Brine & Dice
I’ve heard tell that pirate games are the new zombie games, but I don’t think that’s anything to be worried about. For one thing, zombie games aren’t going anywhere, sadly. They’re as unkillable as their subject matter. Secondly, the latest pirate game is called Rum & Bones, and it’s about immortal (and sometimes skeletal) pirates brawling over cursed doubloons, flamboyant captains firing off flintlock pistols and getting into duels, and maybe a kraken rising from the depths to munch on both sides.
Isn’t it odd how the exact same plot can sound moronic in a movie but so utterly wonderful as a board game? Fret not, Rum & Bones is about five times more comprehensible than the Pirates of the Caribbean sequels.
Cigars, Diamonds, or Bullets
We number one shy of a dozen, dressed to the nines and seated around the heavily-grained table of Hotel Nacional’s grand ballroom. Through the high windows, propped open to let in the cool salt air, I can see Havana Harbor, smell it, taste it. Smoke curls over the dance floor, points of light glowing as made men chew the ends of their cigars. Motionless along the back of the room, hands clasped and suits crumpled from previous victims putting up a fight, the godfather’s men stand, faces unreadable.
“Don Daniel,” the godfather says, rolling his pig’s eyes in my direction. His mouth is turned down in a frown so deep it’s almost comical. Would be comical if it didn’t mean he might be about to order those crumpled men to drag me down to the harbor, wingtips kicking gravel and fists punching the salt air. Just like he had done with Don Alberto minutes before. The diamonds from the godfather’s enameled cigar case tickle at my breast, itching to be let out. “Don Daniel,” the godfather repeats. “Empty your pockets.”
Approximately 3,720 to 1
Confession time: I don’t much care about Star Wars. It isn’t that I have any animosity towards the series, it’s just that lightsaber duels and brown hoodie-robes weren’t a particularly big part of my childhood, so I paid about as much attention to all this talk of the Force as I did to anything else where words like “Naboo” were thrown around.
Some might argue that my apathy towards all things Star Wars undermines my ability to review Star Wars Risk. My response is that I’m probably the one person capable of explaining the game to those who don’t know what Star Wars is all about. So let’s get started!
Samurai You Win, Samurai You Lose
I’d open with a historical anecdote, but unfortunately my knowledge of pre-20th century Japan basically boils down to the Total War series and that one time I read the first quarter of James Clavell’s Shōgun. Instead, I’ll point out that Samurai is another classic title from Reiner Knizia, along with Blue Moon Legends and Tigris & Euphrates, that has been given new life by Fantasy Flight Games. And much like those others, Samurai is so much more than it first appears.
No Place Like Catacombs
At long last, the great gates that have obstructed your passage to Khrlot shudder open, axe-bitten oaken doors shrieking on their hinges. So stale is the air that the moisture of your mouth and nostrils is sucked dry in an instant. Beside you, Elani sighs noisily, flicking a glinting coin into the air and nabbing it just as quickly. Xoric runs his finger along the blade of his axe, testing its bite, and Varesh rummages through his spellbook, frowning deeply. Before you is the darkness of the final tomb obstructing your passage to Vasesak, the foul sorcerer of the catacombs beneath Stormtryne.
He will know your fury. You have vowed it.
One by one the braziers gutter to life. You are not alone down here — not that you expected to be. Long before you can make out their shifting outlines, you’re bombarded by a ghoulish cacophony, clacking pincers and the chattering jaws of Vasesak’s reanimated servants. To your side, Xoric tests his axe’s weight, giving it an exploratory swing through the air. Elani pockets her gold and licks her lips. Varesh begins muttering an incantation, flames licking at his fingertips.
And then you ram into the nearest skeleton with your forehead, bashing him to pieces, before rebounding off a pillar and smacking a troll onto his arse. “Good shot!” shouts Elani, following up your assault by smacking into the troll with her shoulder. You grumble a bit. After all, she just stole your kill.
SPACE-BIFF! 