Staring into space

After a last minute email from Ian saying fatigue had caught up with him, we were down to four this week: Sam, the host, Martin, Joe and me.

Initially, it was just me, Sam and Martin. Joe was running late so we employed that old tried and tested method of making people arrive: start a game. Usually this prompts a knock on the door and a hurried putting away of the game for something more suitable for the newly adjusted number of players.

We chose Eggs Of Ostrich, and Sam seemed to be very rusty on the rules as he misjudged a couple of rounds. His wife, though, was very impressed by the "white smartie" playing pieces. And they are nice. Martin and I liked them in equal measure.

Martin 8
Andrew 8
Sam 5

Joe arrived as the game was drawing to an end. Since the number of attendees was just right, we played Decrypto, the Codenames type game of giving repeated clues to the same four words in such a way that your partner can guess them but the opposing team can't.

It was tricky, giving clues to the same words without making any obvious link. In the end, Martin and Joe demonstrated their mastery of word puzzles by constantly being successful in their clues and then, after Sam and I failed to do well in ours, they guessed what our words were too. Sam was so upset, he put the game away in the lid, and had to take it all back out again.

Joe and Martin: Lexicon of Love
Sam and Andrew: Words of Regret

After that, we pondered our choices in front of Sam's games wall. In the end we decided on The Expanse, the game that Sam has been mentioning recently as "El Grande in space". This gentle drip feed of suggestions had eventually got us interested enough to try it. Sam really should be in advertising.

The game didn't start well, when a strange difference between the printed rules and the game pieces had us second guessing typos in the rule book. Once we were started, Joe and Sam had moments of cognitive dissonance with Sam going through a scoring round confusing water bases with food bases, and Joe plaintively asking "What does 'up to three' mean?"

I found myself equally confused, but kept my questions to myself, preferring instead to play a non productive move and then realise what I should have done later. Martin was least confused, but that was because he'd hit upon a simple tactic and then stuck to it.

Halfway through the game, with bonhomie at a minimum and the clock ticking, Sam made an executive decision and thinned out the remaining draw deck of cards to reduce the running time of the game.

I think we all found it hard going. Since none of us had seen the TV show the game's theme came from, none of us were emotionally invested in it. But that's not an essential part of a good game. After all, I wasn't keen on the sight of ostriches in varying stages of sexual arousal, but I still enjoyed Eggs Of Ostrich. However, emotional attachment to the theme of the game can paper over the cracks in a game's mechanic.

The Expanse suffered from an enormous amount of text on cards, each one offering a game breaking option of varying strength to some (not necessarily all) players. Otherwise, the player could use a card's AP number and take that many actions, except that the action would remain available to other players. Or even, if you choose, the choice of keeping the card for a later round.

Joe decided that he simply wasn't good at area-control games, while I defended El Grande from comparison to this game. It was all a bit perfunctory. As I try and pin down why I didn't like the game (and I've already deleted two paragraphs discussing it) it occurs to me that it was really quite bland. Compared to Quantum or Eclipse or Impulse, it's a poor attempt at a sci-fi triple X game.

Martin 100
Sam 74
Joe 73
Andrew 72

After this, it was approaching half past ten, so what could bring us out of this slough of despond? Why not Krass Kariert? It's a clever game of whatever the opposite of deck-building is. Deck-whittling? Both Sam and I forgot the rule limiting a played hand to just three cards, which meant Sam's long straight was useless.

We all lost a life, which made the fifth round sudden death. It fell on Joe who had put the X card in the wrong place in his hand to react to the following round. How cruel.

Andrew, Sam, Martin 1 life left
Joe none.

Finally I was tempted to stay for one more game: The Mind. With Ultravox as our soundtrack, we made our way through the lower reaches of the game until we found ourselves in round six with four lives still intact.

Level 7 was cleared despite Midge Ure distracting us by singing "look at the sound of the voice!"

By the end of round eight (Joe had 14-16-18-20 and we ended with me having 63 and Sam having 65) , the last before The Dark Mind, we had one life but two shurikens.

We carried on bravely, not using a shuriken to blunder through round one. Instead we placed all our cards. We turned them over. Oh, we were so close. 3 - 28 - 67 - 66.

One out. One measly number. How cruel. But such fun.

Thanks for hosting, Sam. And I'm glad the wasabi crisps were a hit. See you all soon.

Going Commando

On Friday Paul made one of this intermittent sorties from Croydon, so for Andrew and I the journey from the other direction to Chris' house was a comparative breeze, despite some heavy traffic. We entertained ourselves playing the A-Z game, which somehow led us to the idea of Heston Blumenthal serving a pint of offal as pudding or an Oswestry Trifle being 100% cream. It's a long story, but not one where you probably had to be there.

We arrived to find Chris and Paul finishing off a game of Cosmic Run. I didn't pick the story of the game, but I seem to recall Chris had won.

Chris then had to dash off to pick up his children, so Andrew and I introduced Paul to The Mind. We failed to beat the game, but picked up another admirer in the time it took for Chris to return.

After catching up and being plied with delicious food, we debated what to play before settling on The Oracle of Delphi. This was a game I'd played with Stanley the previous weekend so I had the rules fresh in my head - most of them anyway. What I didn't have fresh about my person was the entire contents of the game, as we discovered after setting up there was a bag of player pieces missing. At this point I was crestfallen, as it seemed Zeus had maybe set us one task too many. But I underestimated our boardgame commando stylings - Chris moved up several gears as he engaged the service of a printer to generate some more tasks, and ransacked other games for other ad hoc replacements.

That out the way, we moved on to the original twelve Zeus had set us, with the winner allowed into the hallowed porch of heaven, or something.

Chris's yellow ship - secretly a temple

I began at speed and was first to complete a task. In fact I think I was about three tasks ahead at one point, but my lack of forward planning meant I'd left myself with not much room for manoeuvre, as Zeus is more picky about certain tasks more than others; you can make any three coloured statues you like, as long as two of them are yellow and green...

And like a breakaway sprinter in Flamme Rouge, I found myself overhauled by everyone as statues and shrines were erected, offerings given, and monsters defeated. Paul played slow and steady, but like the tortoise, it seemed to be the right thing to do.

Paul - chores done
Andrew and Chris - one task left
Sam - three tasks left

Thanks to our early start, the night was still young, but rather than begin another odyssey we went for  the comparative soufflé of Cash N' Guns; new to everyone but Chris but straightforward to pick up. There are eight piles of cash (or other good stuff) and everyone has a gun. Everyone plays a card face down that represents a click or a bang, then the Godfather counts us in and we all point a gun at each other. Someone with a gun (or guns) pointing at them can choose to back out of the round - or they can take a risk and stay in. Cards are revealed and a click does no damage to the recipient. A bang however means you're out of the round - and three bangs means your out of the game!

Each player only has three bang cards and five clicks though, so there's some table-reading at play here. Being Godfather means you can tell one player to point their gun at someone else, but there's a cost to becoming Godfather, as when all the loot is shared out you can forego a share in order to become the new Godfather.

It was fast, fun and very silly.

Chris 206
Sam 197
Paul 127
Andrew 107

Next up was Space Base, the dice-chucking game of spaceship deployment. I persisted with my method of purchasing lots of low-value ships quickly - the idea being to maximise returns on other players turns - but it proved as ineffective as any other time I've used it. Chris's early-game business seemed to leave him never picking up cash on anyone else's turn, but whatever he was up to, it worked out for him. Regularly rolling the right numbers on his own turn helped as well, as he surged up the track leaving the rest of us languishing in the doldrums:

Chris 41
Sam 17
Paul 15
Andrew 10

Paul was eager to return to The Mind, so we did. It was a slightly drunken series of Minds, though, that included a hesitant level one where any misconceived idea of collective synchronicity went up in smoke as Paul banged down his 83. The rest of us had cards in the seventies, which felt thematically appropriate, somehow.

But our third attempt was a bit more valiant, as we crashed and burned at the giddy heights of level 7.

Our consciousnesses aligned, we sought to break them apart again with a fast-moving blast of poker. A fiver each in the pot, winner-take-all, and a mere ten minutes between each doubling up of the ante. Paul looked strong early on, ominously building a lead of chips by whittling off each of us. Chris was first out when his pocket queens were unluckily ousted by my pocket jacks - a third jack coming up on the turn saving my all-in bacon. With the antes upping, Andrew was out shortly afterward, and it was between myself and Paul.

I threatened briefly, but like the candle of youth, my brief surge flickered out as, chips fast-disappearing, I was forced to go all in on a shabby hand. Fortunately for me, Paul followed me in with an almost-equally-shabby one. Unfortunately for me, almost-as is not the same as worse-than, and he made a pair anyway...

Paul + £20
Everyone else - £5

Midnight wasn't too far off now so we made our aperitif Pairs, once a staple of games nights but lesser-spotted these days. This part of the evening is less twelve tasks and more twelve drinks though, and my recollection of the game is murky. I do recall going bust on blueberries, and the fact Andrew engineered himself into a winning position, but chose to twist a few times anyway. Successfully as it happens... kudos to him.

In the morning I noted the leftovers of the kind of party Martin Amis can only dream of, with Zeus's tasks discarded next to a boozy kitchen sink.

As I had to head off to Cheshire, Andrew and I wended our way home early-doors, coming up with twenty six words for the current weather (y was yucky). I enjoyed the puzzly sandbox of Delphi, the silliness of Cash and Guns and I always love The Mind. Great to revisit poker as well. Thanks all for a very fun evening! Hope to see you soon. Paul.

Arle be the judge of that

There is a legend that says that if the Core Four of GNN (Sam, Joe, Adam and Andrew) ever have a games night to themselves again, then King Arthur will rise up, the River Thames will flow backwards and all manner of strange omens will be seen in the sky. Such an event almost happened tonight, except that Sam was absent and Martin and Ian were there instead. Still, it was nice to see Adam again.

You would think that, with five, we would be sociable and sit around the same table, but Adam was keen to try Fields Of Arle, Uwe Rosenburg's two-player homage to his ancestry. That much history takes up quite a bit of space, so Martin, Ian and I set ourselves up on the card table to play Yellow and Yangtze. I was keen to play again before I forgot all the rules, but as I listened to Martin giving Ian a quick rules refresher, I realised that I already had.

Ian got off to a poor start, with Martin building a blue pagoda quicksticks, me trying to muscle in on his patch and Ian mostly tucked away in a corner, losing battles.

He seemed quite distraught, but as the beer flowed, so his mojo returned as he set off wars between me and Martin or him and Martin or him and me. Often it seemed like he didn't know what battles would take place until Martin explained it to us.

This method, coupled with the tactic that we all used of dismantling/building a bridge connecting the main bloc of action to a useful patch of four red tiles, seemed to work for Ian. I felt myself drifting further away, with more leaders off the board than on it.

This lead to my declaration that I wasn't keen on the game. I said at the time that it wasn't what I wanted in a game (which is, broadly speaking, a sense of narrative). Y&Y is too swingy, too random and too often I found myself simply trying to put things back the way they were, which maybe demonstrates my lack of understanding of the game. I suppose I need more practice to appreciate it because it often felt like a boxing match on a bouncy castle and I did pretty poorly. A purple patch mid game when I picked up more points saved my blushes, though.

The game itself was an odd one, since almost all of the action centred around the starting point in the middle of the board. This cluster of activity only took in other centres once it had expanded close enough to make it worthwhile. Ownership of pagodas changed regularly and leaders shamelessly leapt into battle. There were plenty of Peasants' Revolts and perhaps the best was one of Ian's, who removed a previously overlooked tile and then dropped in a leader in its place, right next to three black tiles, instantly making him very powerful. Despite this, Martin ran away winner once again.

Martin 16
Ian 13
Andrew 11

What happened in Fields Of Arle? Despite my frequent (and slightly jealous) glances in their direction, I know little about the flow of the game. We sniggered when we overheard Joe saying "you get wood at the end of every summer" but that was about it.

In the end, Adam's uncanny empathy with Uwe Rosenberg gamers propelled him to a debut win.

Adam 102
Joe 90.5

While Fields Of Arle had been finishing, the three of us on the card table played Ganz Schön Clever. It was my first game and all previous references to fireworks or bingo or pinball suddenly made sense. I would add the analogy of rows of dominoes falling, and setting off clever displays in a world record attempt. That's how this game feels.

I came last, although Martin assured Ian and I that over 200 is a good score.

Martin 239
Ian 209
Andrew 207

And so, with Fields of Arle back in its exquisitely packed box, the card table was vacated. Ian was persuaded to stay for one more game and we all set off on a rousing finale of Texas Showdown.

We all enjoyed giving Martin a nightmare first round, but that did mean Ian got through clean. Although he couldn’t keep up this high standard, at least he didn’t collapse. After three rounds, it ended:

Ian 5
Joe 6
Adam 7
Martin 9
Andrew 9

And with that, we were done. Off into the warm Spring night. Thanks all. Let’s do it again soon.

Consulting the Oracle

Playing/not playing the Oracle of Delphi has become something of a meme in our house, as Stan has fallen into a pattern of suggesting it close to bedtime, simply in order not to go to bed. This never works - I'm too clever for that - and so for a week Stefan Feld's game of completing the 12 Tasks of Zeus has remained unplayed (bar my own run-through).

That finally changed yesterday when we sat down to play it at six o'clock. With an eye on the clock I reduced the 12 tasks to a jaunty 8, and we were away!

Unlike most/all of Feld's other games, this isn't a point salad, but a race. Like most/all his other games though, it does involve a lot of moving parts.

We are mortals hoping to join Zeus in his apartment in the heavens, and the first to complete the twelve tasks and return to him will be the outright winner. The tasks consist of four things - building shrines, erecting statues, delivering offerings to temples, and defeating monsters (three of each example in the full game). The modular board can be set up any way you like, as long as all the water is connected.

In front of you is your player mat, where you keep track of your tasks and your other Feldian attributes - oracle cards, companion cards, equipment, standing with the Gods, and in particular your oracle dice. This are the nub of the game, as on your turn you roll, and decide how to spend them. Any dice can be used to pick up favour tokens (helpful die-or-movement-manipulators) or improve your standing with the Gods, but the juicer actions require the right colour roll: moving your ship around the water, loading/unloading it, exploring islands (need the right location for your shrine!) or battling monsters all need a matching die colour.

Whenever you complete a task, there is a reward: companion cards can help boost the speed of your ship or improve your combat level v monsters, for instance. When you boost a God marker to the heavens on your player board, they will reward you with a one-off special move: Poseidon will sail you instantly to any water spot on the board, whereas Aphrodite allows you to discard all your injury cards.

Oh yes, injuries! One cannot undertake a perilous quest such as this without taking some scratches, and every round the Titan attacks. If you haven't bumped up your shields sufficiently, you take a hit in the form of injuries. Six injuries (or three of a matching colour) mean you have to skip a turn to recover.

temples, monsters, statues

Fighting monsters also involves a die-roll. A monster's strength is always nine, and you minus your shield strength from it before rolling a d10 and hoping to beat whatever number it is. This is where my game fell apart, as having spotted Stanley only had three tasks left to complete, I elected to tick my monster tasks off and proceeded to roll a series of 1s, 2s, and 3s as Stan sailed serenely around the board to finish off his business. By the time he returned to Zeus to claim his prize, I was raging at the dying of the light/rolling of the d10 - and no longer feeling clever.

All in all then, a very typical Feld in some ways (moving parts) but others (racing, battling) distinguishing it from the likes of Burgundy or Macao. It took me back a few years to when those sorts of games felt very new, so I wouldn't say it was groundbreaking or fresh. But I really enjoyed it.

When In Rome

The monthly GNN game of Time of Crisis is usually planned weeks in advance, but not this time. I had been expecting a fallow May followed by activities in June when Joe discovered he had the run of the house on Saturday. With Martin occupied elsewhere, it was Sam who stepped into the breach.

We begin at 7.13 on the dot, and it is a slow start. I am in Thracia, Ian in Gallia, Joe in Africa and Sam in Galatia. Joe looks at the board and said “interesting...”

In fact, I was so disappointed in my last game that I was determined to do the same opening move as before. So with three blues and two yellows I put an undefended governor in Macedonia, only this time instead of giving him a militia I boosted his support to level two.

Everyone else went for the classic opening of three blue, two red. Ian puts a governor and army in Hispania, Joe puts a governor in Egypt and builds another army in Africa. Sam builds a governor and army in Syria.

It’s a very quiet start. In the next round, I build a Basilica in Thracia and moved an army into Pannonia. Ian, Sam and Joe all built Limes, prompted by the sight of an Ira Deorum crisis roll that sent masses of barbarians to our borders.

The Franks are first to invade (as they did repeatedly throughout the game) but we have Good Auguries on our side, so we are almost happy to see them.

Ian certainly is, as he clears them out of Gallia and then takes Britannia. Joe moves an army into still-neutral Italia, and Sam takes over Asia.

For my next move, I get beaten up by some unusually active Goths in Thracia, but console myself with becoming Emperor! At 7.57. I have little chance of holding onto it with Joe’s army in the capital, but I figure I’d best start on my Empire soon.

Ian then mobs me in Italia while building in the UK. Joe strengthens an army in Africa, as the Nomads are congregating, and steals Asia from Sam. The Sassanids suddenly rise up and swoop into Syria and Egypt. Sam thinks about attacking the Sassanids, even though it’s two legions versus three barbarians. “It’s as good a time as any,” suggests Ian, cunningly prompting one of his rivals into war. After some contemplation, Sam does attack but, alas, he picks up the evil dice and rolls a 2-1. He should’ve used the other dice. The Sassanids get in three hits in reply.

I get the Goths out of Thracia and clear that pesky mob in Italia. I am still Emperor, to my surprise.

My surprise does not last long as Ian easily unseats me in his next move. Our second Emperor at 8.22. Joe has a dreadful hand with two blue points that he can’t use. He invades the Nomad homelands and wins handsomely, but forgets about that lone Sassanid in Egypt. His support falls to zero and suddenly he only has Africa and a very tenuous grip on Asia under his command.

Sam rolls and gets an event card that I don’t recall ever seeing. Ludi Saeculares. Ian, as Emperor, has to discard a card but he gets points according to it’s value. Discard a strong card but get points on the board? He decides against it and gets rid of a lowly one-card.

Sam takes Asia back from Joe. I finally get rid of the Franks in Pannonia thanks to recruiting one of them that happened to be very good at rolling sixes. Ian is still Emperor, though.

My largely military-free regions

Ian builds an army in Italia and tries to get rid of Joe. He fails, though. Joe uses one blue point to try and retake Egypt. He needs a six but rolls a five. He kills off the Sassanid anyway.

Sam hangs on to troubled Syria by boosting support and then watching it fall back to one. I build two armies and recruit a barbarian.

Ian is annoyed at still being Emperor, since he needs the governor and won’t survive the support check so won’t get the rewards of his Empire-ness. He boost supports in other regions instead.

With a neutral senate, Joe easily becomes Emperor at 9.19. He finally takes back Egypt, too. Sam clears Syria of Sassanids and a Priest King that I forgot to mention in my notes until now. He then gets voted into Egypt to weaken Joe in Rome.

By now the scores are pretty close: Ian 40, Joe 38, Sam 35, Andrew 34.

I take Egypt from Sam since I need a fourth province to get a Pretender card. Ian moves an army into Italia and beats Joe. Joe retreats and Ian becomes Emperor again at 9.53! He is also on 52 points.

Sorry for putting my glass on your board, Joe.

Joe loses to Ian in Italia, takes Egypt off me and then fails to get voted into Ian’s Hispania.

Sam invades the Sassanids’ homeland, and also takes Egypt from Joe even though he knows he’ll lose it immediately. I have a plan to attack Ian’s Britannia and then use his Basilica against him. I am unsure of the number of movement points between Gallia and Britannia, though. I don’t want Ian to know of my plan (although, in retrospect, he couldn’t have done anything about it) so I text Joe and ask him. He texts me back, saying there are two movement points. This ruins my plans, since I don’t have enough red points in my hand.

Instead I attack him in Rome but fail. I beat the Alamanni in Thracia but lose to the Franks in Pannonia. Sam said “I’ll try to roll low” before he rolled a double six. After that I needed a hopeless nine votes with my five blue points. Needless to say, I did not succeed.

Ian’s last hand has 10 yellow points! He build three buildings and triggers the end of the game as he hits 69 points. My sad Pretender card was still sitting in the discards, waiting to be recycled but never to be used.

In his final turn, Joe attacks Ian in Hispania but Ian’s single legion manages to get four hits to Joe’s one! Joe fails to get voted into Emperor and he ends on a damp squib. Sam’s final turn is a cracker, though. He kills some Sassanids, and fights and beats me in Thracia before unseating Joe in now-undefended Africa.

Ian 79
Sam 57
Andrew 53
Joe 48

A great performance by Ian and well done to Sam for coming in second despite never becoming Emperor.

We ended with a quick Texas Showdown, during which Cybil really got talkative.

Andrew 3
Sam 7
Ian 8
Joe 12

And then we played two rounds of Dead Man’s Chest, with only two lives instead of the regulation five for a four-player game. I won the first when Joe foolishly tried to challenge my 5-5. In the second game Sam won when he bid 3-3. I passed it back, thinking perhaps he was being clever, with the bid of 5-5. It wasn’t.

And with that, we were done. Thanks for hosting, Joe, and for the bourbon. Very much appreciated. And thanks to all for another great evening.

Schön of the Dead (Man’s Chest)

Seven gamers made their usual Tuesday pilgrimage to someone's house to share in the joy of board gaming. This week's house belonged to Joe and joining him were Martin, Andy, Sam, Ian, Joe's friend Matt and me.

After a little discussion, we split into two groups. Martin, Sam and Joe played a new roll 'n' write game called Ganz Schön Clever. On the other half of the table we chose Flamme Rouge as our newbie friendly option. Although, to be clear, Matt wasn't a newbie at board games by any means but we've lost too many potential regulars after a game of Quantum to take any risks.

I didn't follow Ganz Schön Clever at all, I'm afraid so the meanings behind references to foxes or owls remain a mystery for now. Joe called it "more bingo than bingo." It must've been complicated since both Sam and Joe needed Martin to double check their scores. And what remarkable scores they were.

Sam 181
Martin 181
Joe 166

As for Flamme Rogue, we were playing with the track pieces that had cobble stones but without the pieces with watering stations. Matt got a rules explanation and seemed to be in good shape from the start. My rouler, on the other hand, became a figure of fun throughout the race.

Cut adrift early on, he couldn't catch up and picked up exhaustion cards almost every round. I started to suspect that he wasn't a professional cyclist at all, but a plucky amateur that had somehow landed a place in the team.

End of the game: my rouler's 

collection of exhaustion cards.

That was the back, though. At the front, it was more changeable. The strategy seemed simple. Get over the hills as efficiently as possible and then pedal like a madman in the final stage. Matt said that he'd used too many strong cards at the start and subsequently had a weak finish. Ian took the first place with his final 4 card being enough to beat my 3 and Andy's 4. I think we were all hoping for that large card we'd been saving to come out at the end (Andy even asked Martin to chose the last card he drew into his hand, perhaps not trusting his own luck) but we were all foiled. Ian was foiled less than the rest of us, though.

1. Ian
2. Andrew
3. Andy
4. Matt

After this we had ended more or less at the same time. We reshuffled and reformed into two new groups. Martin, Sam and Andy played another game of Ganz Schön Clever while Joe, Ian, Matt and I played Zendo, which Joe repeatedly assured us was the hit of the Festive season in the Joe household.

After a rules explanation and a first round with easy rules and Joe as moderator, Matt had the same issue with the game that I had on my first play: it's hard to know what criteria a rule could possibly be made from.

But we ploughed on and the game played out in a very equitable manner. I guessed Joe's rule, Matt guessed mine, Ian guessed Matt's and finally Joe guessed Ian's rule. We ended honours even after a lengthy and often silent game of deduction.

Ganz Schön Clever finished:

Martin 233
Sam 184
Andy 146

And, since we were still fretting over Zendo, they played another new game, Cuckoo. Apparently, it is a bit like Blackjack.

Andy 12 (wins on a tiebreaker)
Martin 12
Sam 5

And now, we were a sevensome once again. At this late hour, our tastes tend toward the lighter side, but which game? Fuji Flush? Dead Man's Chest?

In the end we went with The Mind, but not a big seven-hander, rather two groups of three and four since we had two copies. Both groups had a newcomer but, astonishingly, we did not have one rules explanation for both, we had two separate explanations at the same time: Joe taught Matt and Martin taught Andy. Such is his level of competitiveness, Martin actually looked a bit disappointed when Joe finished explaining the rules before he had.

We did, briefly, consider sitting around the table in such a way that the two groups alternated around the table, but that would've been too intense. Kind of interesting, though.

Instead, we remained separate, and kept an eye on the other group’s progress. We in the four-group were doing well, until a sudden collapse in form, largely blamed by others on my lack of initiative but I insist was due to the other players’ over-confidence.

Sam, Joe, Matt - level 8
Martin, Andy, Ian, Andrew - level 8

Finally, we chose Dead Man's Chest to end the game. Matt was familiar with Perudo/Liar Dice, so once the somewhat counter-intuitive rules were explained, we were off. DMC is not a favourite game of Andy's, by any measure, but he found a way to enjoy himself by playing in a random manner which would then annoyed his neighbour, Martin. The game played out with the usual audacious bluffing that you'd expect.

Results, in order of going out...

Sam, out when Andy called 6-6, Martin passed it on, saying Dead Man, and Sam challenged wrongly.
Matt out when Joe raised a 5-4 bid to 5-5 and Matt challenged
Andrew out when Ian challenged my 6-5 bid. It was 4-2.
Martin out when Joe challenged his bid of 6-1.
Andy out when he bid 1-1 blind and Joe challenged.
Joe out when Ian called 2-2. Joe rolled looked, rolled again and bid Dead Man blind. Ian challenged. It was 6-5.
Ian wins!

And so we were done. Thanks all. As ever, a pleasure.

Everyone checks their phones while Joe explains

DMC to Matt.

A Curate's Egg

Last night was my first Tuesday night games after a fortnight's absence - that's three nights in a single sentence! Ok, four.

Photos will be in short supply I'm afraid, as I didn't take any - maybe Sam can slot some in. But I'll add a cartoon called True Humility, by George Du Maurier, originally published in Punch in 1895.

Bishop: "I'm afraid you've got a bad egg, Mr Jones"; Curate: "Oh, no, my Lord, I assure you that parts of it are excellent!"

This cartoon was sooooo funny in 1895 that it gave rise to the expression 'A Curate's Egg' used to describe something that is both good and bad. What passes for hysterical may have substantially changed in the intervening century, but the euphemism is going strong.

Five of us were ranged around my kitchen table; I was joined by Sam, Ian, Martin and finally Andy B. On my request, Sam had brought Space Base, which I was keen to try - In an email earlier that day, Martin had ladled luke-warm praise on it by quoting mediocre comments from BGG, but I for one was unperturbed. While we waited for Andy, we decided to roll out a quick Knister...

This is the roll-and-write game of a 5 x 5 grid of squares which you fill in with numbers from a pair of dice, hoping to form decent poker hands. My first game, and I liked it. That agonising Take It Easy feeling of needing (and failing to achieve) just the right number to pull off a big score, but without the triple-figure addition and GNN standard bingo-calling. In fact Andy arrived just as we were about to start, so we all played, and Andy took us to the cleaners. Points are good.

Andy 65
Sam 47
Joe 41
Ian 39
Martin 34

We decided that Space Base with 5 players was worth a shot, and Sam began setting up. Almost at once my doorbell rang - the latest in a line of interruptions that included Sybil farting, Sybil scratching to be let out and Sybil scratching to be let in. By the time I rejoined the table I felt I'd missed some valuable part of the explanation - or perhaps it was the riot of primary colour on the table - either way I was discombobulated. Everyone reassured me that I'd missed nothing, we got underway and I gradually regained my composure.

It's been called Machi Koro in space, and I can see the similarities. Everyone starts with similar bases numbered 1 to 12, and on your turn you're rolling a pair of dice (the second game in a row we'd played where was the main mechanism, as Martin noted), and activating ships in those bases. Or adding the two dice together and activating that one base. Most starting ships give you money, or income, and you use this to buy better ships, from an offer a little like that in Splendor; three rows of increasingly expensive and powerful ships. There's even one, as Sam mentioned, that lets you instantly win the game once you've activated it a few times. As you replace ships on your bases, you gain abilities that can be activated on the other players' rolls. Unless you're Ian, who was dogged by rolls that he couldn't use.

taken earlier

There were a few instances of confusion with the iconography, and the rulebook stayed in play for most of the game - Martin was appalled by the size of it for such a simple game, and also by the typos. Meanwhile Andy had spotted and exploited an interesting strategy - chaining powers that let him activate the ship next highest up. With his 8 to 11 bays stocked with these, any roll from 7 upwards would allow him to activate his 12 bay. Now all he needed was a 12 ship worth all that effort. And right on queue, the ship Sam had mentioned that lets you instantly win the game popped up. And Andy duly bought it. This essentially put a three round timer on the game, and we all began scrabbling for as many points as possible. There was a slim chance that Andy wouldn't get the roll he needed, but he got it.

We all agreed that the sweet spot would be three players, and it was to long and overpowered with five. Sam and I both liked it, not sure about Ian and Andy. Martin said he enjoyed the company, so parts of it were excellent; like the Curate's Egg. Points are good.

Andy WIN
Martin 31
Sam 27
Joe 20
Ian 6

We packed Space Base off to Uranus, and decided on a game of Texas Showdown next - another that's been detailed elsewhere on the blog recently, but was new to me. I love card games, and this one had a similar feeling to Voodoo Prince - good with five, tricks are bad and all that jazz.
During the game I decided to make nuts. Walnuts dry-roasted in a pan, then doused with salt water and dusted with smoked paprika once they've dried. I'll make them again, but next time I'll pop them in a hot oven to crisp up again after the water, and I won't add as much salt - Ian found them too salty, having run out of beer. Like a trusty Saint Bernard Sam produced a bottle of San Miguel from his bag to quench Ian's thirst, and we got back to finishing Texas Showdown. Points are bad.

Martin 8
Sam/Andy 9
Joe 10
Ian 12

artist's impression of my nuts

Everyone graciously agreed to try out a recent acquisition of mine, a little card game by Wolfgang Kramer and friends called Fat Fish. No one had ever heard of it, and we felt afterwards there may be a reason for that. Players lay cards to a single row in the offer of three - following some faintly convoluted rules. If a row has five cards you have to take it, a la 6 Nimmt, and score one of each colour from it - any duplicate colours score you minus points. There's a fiasco card that nets -5 to the latest player to not be able to follow the rules regarding card placement - an addition which strikes me as an act of desperation on the part of the designers: "The game's too confusing. We could simplify it, or... we could add a card that penalises players for being confused!" Trouble was it wasn't quite confusing enough to make it funny, and by the time the fiasco card was with me, everyone had worked out how to play.

It was "Not an instant classic", as Martin pointed out. It would be better with three, but far too chaotic with five, and not enough agency for players to feel in control. I'd like to play again with three, but for now, we stopped after a single round. Points are good and bad. Like the Curate's Egg.

Andy 29
Joe 21
Sam 16
Martin 6
Ian 4

Sam decided to make that his last game of the evening, having a very early start to London the next day - we remaining four cast about for a final bit of fun, and settled on Krass Kariert.
It was Andy's inaugural play, and we all enjoyed it. Making pairs, runs and triples is satisfying, particularly with the puzzle of not being allowed to reorder your hand. Of Martin's recent card game acquisitions it's probably my favourite - though I didn't warm to it as instantly as Zero Down, it's got a bit more depth.
In this game there are no points, just lives. And Ian ran out of lives before the rest of us.

Ian 0
Martin 1
Andy/Joe 2

We called it a night, and it was a most enjoyable one. Not a Curate's Egg at all - wholly excellent.

Crisis of Time

Thursday, and Little Joe insisted on foregoing his bedtime story for a game with Andrew, so no sooner had he arrived than we played The Mind.

The first game was fairly disastrous, as we lurched from flippant to studious play and couldn't find a rhythm. We busted out on something like Level 4, before concentrating our brains and pulling off some high-five-worthy placements on our second attempt. We still didn't win, but Joe went to bed suitably sated, as the game of the moment shows no immediate sign of getting old.

I introduced Andrew to Space Base, which is a dice-chucking, luck-pushing, theme-pasted-on game somewhat reminiscent of Machi Koro. Each player begins with a base populated by twelve ships in bays 1-12, and on your turn you chuck dice and activate bays equal either to both die rolls individually, or the sum of them.

Then you can buy more ships, and 'deploy' the old ship from the bay. Deployed ships get you nothing on your turn, but get you stuff when any opponent rolls their number - so as the game continues and everyone deploys more and more ships, your inactive turns get increasingly rewarding. You can also buy some colony ships that clog up your bays, but score you points - first to 40 wins.

It's extremely fast-moving and I enjoyed it a lot, despite the fact I made a crucial error in passing up the chance to win - Andrew took full advantage:

Andrew 40
Sam 36

We hemmed and hawed over what to play next before deciding to finish off T.I.M.E Stories...

SPOILER ALERT

Sent back in time to solve a mystery and prevent a rupture in the fabric of continuity, we take on the host bodies of some lunatics at a mental asylum. Having made the journey thrice before, we were familiar with the majority of locations, but weren't quite sure how to piece the puzzle together. Not wanting to having to go through this all again, we afforded ourselves twice as much time units as the game officially gives you, and blasted through the place at a rate of knots, discovering all manner of unworldly creatures and a dark, macabre plot, that we eventually foiled by virtue of cheating. 

As I said to Andrew, I've never known a game to be so gripping on a first play and then drop so rapidly to unengaging. I'm still surprised by it's high rating on BGG considering how the game is structured - you fail, and start again, going to the same locations and having the same experiences... then fail, and start again. And again, and again, until you finally complete the game without running out of time units. It's beautifully made, but God, four plays was enough.

Andrew and Sam save the world.

We finished off with Avenue, the roll-and-write game of grape gathering and gathering frustration. This outdoes NMBR9 and Take It Easy in terms of getting ones' hopes up only to torpedo them in spectacular style. I still can't get over the fact Joe created one single avenue on his very first play... I tried that again tonight, and failed miserably!

Andrew 41
Sam 36

Thanks Andrew! Looking forward to The Mind, Space Base and Avenue again. Looking forward to selling or trading TIME Stories...