Clash of Magic Schools.

Clash of Magic Schools is a brand-new version of the 2000 game Babel, with a fresh theme but as far as I can tell no real changes to the rules. It’s a two-player game co-designed by Uwe Rosenberg, back when he was only known for Bohnanza, before he became the king of heavy worker-placement games and more than a decade before he put out the two-player game Patchwork. It’s pretty clearly an early design, and it needed an update to more than just the theme and art to make it better.

In Clash of Magic Schools, players represent two different magic academies fighting some kind of tournament across five different ‘arenas,’ playing cards of students to their sides of those arenas and casting spells when they’re able to try to improve their standing and attack the other side. As you add cards to your side of an arena, you can pass trials in sequential order, from 1 through 6, once you have at least that many cards there, but only if the trial number you need is available. Although it looks like a capture-the-flag sort of game (Battle Line, Riftforce), there’s no control aspect here; the arenas exist just as places to attack your opponent.

On a turn, you can take as many actions as you want. You can move your token to any arena by discarding one card from your hand. You can play as many cards from your hand to your token’s current location (your side of that arena). You can pass a trial, as described above, taking the top trial card from your side OR from your opponent’s. You can summon students, moving exactly three cards from one arena to another. And you can cast a spell, for which you must have three student cards of the same color at one location. Spells allow you to trash cards from your opponent’s side, or steal a trial card, or pass a trial while skipping a level, and more. Play continues until all of the top trial cards on one player’s side totals 15 or more while their opponent’s total is 9 or less; if tied, you continue until one player reaches a total of 20, or one player drops down to 9 or less. If you exhaust the trial deck, the game ends regardless of scoring.

I have a soft spot for Babel because it’s the first Eurogame I ever owned. I was on vacation in Austria in 2003 and stumbled into a board game store, and I had never seen anything like it in my life. I was overwhelmed and wanted to buy all the things, but I barely speak enough German to order a coffee, and certainly didn’t have the vocabulary to ask an employee for advice – nor did I know what I’d ask even in English. So after some time, I ended up with Babel, as it was a two-player game and not too expensive, and it had a seal on it that I now know means it made the shortlist for the Spiel des Jahres award (won in its particular year by Carcassonne).

That said, I played Babel quite a few times with my ex-wife before our daughter was born, and after a while we both realized it’s just not that good of a game. The back-and-forth of it isn’t very fun; I’d compare it to trench warfare, where you make a few feet of progress one day only to have your enemy claw it back the next. It is easier to damage your opponent than to build up anything yourself, because passing trials requires a ton of luck – the right trial cards have to be visible when you’re ready for them. That is by far the aspect of Babel that most needed revising in a new version, and they didn’t touch it. You can have sabotage as a core mechanic – I think the base game of Riftforce does this really well – without making it the core mechanic. Five of the game’s six spells allow for some form of sabotage, and all that does is make the game a frustrating slog that takes twice as long as it should.

The artwork in the new game is fantastic – I love the art on the student cards, where each card color uses the same basic outline for a student, but each card itself has different hair, skin color, clothes, makeup, and so on. That said, this is about as blatant an attempt to draw on Harry Potter as those Russian books from the early aughts that barely bothered to disguise the main character. The spell names, the school symbols, the cover art, all of this makes it look like a Harry Potter-themed game that didn’t want to pay the royalties. (To be fair, I wouldn’t want to line that transphobe’s pockets, either.) I’m good with the update from ancient nomadic tribes to modern magic schools, but I did expect something more imaginative than this.

I still have my copy of Babel because it started my collection – it’s not the oldest game, and it isn’t valuable at all, but it was game #1 and I think my interest in the hobby truly started from there. I don’t see any need to keep my (review) copy of Clash of Magic Schools, though, as it’s the same game with a fresh coat of paint.

Applejack.

Applejack comes from Uwe Rosenberg, known for his heavy worker placement games and his light tile-laying games, although I think it’s been a few years since he had a real ‘hit’ – probably 2020’s tile-layer New York Zoo. Applejack came out in 2023 and it’s a perfectly fine game that suffers from an overwrought final scoring mechanic, so while I think it’s good enough to recommend, it’s not one I’ll come back to very often.

In Applejack, players will draft hexagonal tiles to fill out their meadow to attract the most bees and grow the most apples of seven different varieties. Each tile has up to four apples on it, possibly some flowers, and honey pots with numbers from 2 to 10 on at least one of the six edges. There’s a central board with a spiral track, and as the round-marker die moves, it will offer you your choices of the tiles in the bucket ahead of it and the bucket behind it (located around the outside of the board). You can place the tile anywhere on your personal board; if you line up an edge with a honey pot next to another edge with a honey pot, either on another tile or on the outer frame of your board, you get coins (honey) equal to the lower of those two values. That matters because you have to pay coins for the tile you draft, with the cost equal to the value of its honey pot(s). If you can’t pay, you must flip the tile over and place it face-down, with no apples, flowers, or honey pots showing.

The general goal is to place tiles to create chains of apple varieties; as the round marker moves, it will score the different varieties one or two at a time, giving each player coins equal to the number of tiles in the longest chain of that variety minus the current round number. Flowers score one coin apiece at the end of the first round, two apiece at the end of the second.

About halfway through round three, all players will have filled their boards and the game ends. You then score each apple variety again, subtracting three for the current round number, and double that number – effectively scoring them twice. Then there’s a bonus for the number of apple varieties you scored in that last harvest, starting with 4 coins for 4 varieties up to 35 points if you scored all 7. And flowers score again, but this time it’s back to just one coin per flower. Whoever has the most coins wins.

The actual game play, meaning the tile selection and placement, is good. I’d even argue that it’s all good until the final scoring, and then it gets annoying. It’s a lot of arithmetic, and it takes a while, but that also means that it’s hard to do the mental math during the game to fully anticipate how it’ll play out. Building the chains is fun, as is the challenge near the end of the game when you only have a couple of spaces left for tiles and have to choose which varieties’ chains to sacrifice and which to expand. I understand the philosophical decision to double the chains’ scoring at the end, because otherwise you’d end with players potentially gaining fewer points in the end game than they did in the second scoring, but it makes the process clunkier than it needs to be. Maybe Rosenberg tried it without subtracting the round number and it didn’t work; that seems like a more obvious way to score, at least. And I think the flowers are just kind of there – the points are nice but they’re so small in relation to the rest of the scoring that you’re not likely to pay much attention to them.

That’s a lot of words on what’s wrong with Applejack, but I’m being a little harsh – it’s really a solid game other than the scoring, and it’s possible that 1) the scoring won’t bug you like it did me or 2) you’ll just house-rule it and score it differently. I will say that among Rosenberg’s tile-laying games, though, this is below Patchwork, Sagani (also known as Nova Luna and Framework), and New York Zoo for me, so if you’re interested in this mechanic you might want to check those out first.

Seers Catalog.

Seers Catalog is yet another trick-taking game, this time a game where you’re trying to get rid of most of your cards, but not all of them. It has a lot in common with SCOUT until you get to the scoring, where it has a novel way of awarding points – or taking them away – that makes this game so fun and so very hard to play well.

A remake of a self-published game called Of What’s Left, Seers Catalog has a deck of cards numbered 2 through 13 in five suits, although you’ll cut that down based on player count so that each player will start with a hand of twelve of those cards plus one wild and two ‘artifact’ cards. Those artifact cards have various special powers but nearly all of them have values of 0 for scoring at the end of the round, so you want to use them rather than holding on to them. Some work in tandem with another card you play, such as changing its suit or adding or subtracting 1 (or ½!) to its value, while others you play on their own, like a card that automatically is the highest one on the table, or the Go First card that, as you might infer, means that player goes first (but doesn’t have to play that card immediately).

The player who starts a trick must play a ‘meld’ from their hand: a set of cards of the same value with different suits, a run of cards of the same suit with consecutive values, or a single card. All players may follow by playing the same type and size of meld – so if I play a run of 3-4-5, you must play a run of exactly three cards – but must have a higher card value than the last trick played, so in that example, you would have to play at least a 4-5-6. Players may pass; whoever wins the trick opens the next one. When any player has fewer than six cards in their hand, they go in the Bonus, flipping the indicator token in front of them. From that point on, they may not pass: if they have a legal play, they must make it.

A round ends when any player is out of cards. They will score zero points for the round, as will any players not yet in the Bonus. All other players in the Bonus score as follows: Take a number of points equal to the value of the lowest card in your hand, then subtract the number of cards in your hand. So if you have two cards remaining, a 6 and an 8, you would get 4 points (6 for the card minus 2 for your two cards in hand). Wild and artifact cards are (mostly) value 0, so if you have one, you get 0 points minus the number of cards in your hand.

It should be obvious that the goal is to end up with one high-value card at the end of a round, or at worst just a couple of high-value cards. Because you’re required to play once you’re in the bonus, however, that’s really hard to do. Later in the round, players are more likely to make smaller plays – a single card or a run/set of two – and it’s similarly likely that you’ll have a legal play. And if you have the misfortune to win a late trick like that, you may end up having to lead the next trick and end up playing your last card.

I haven’t mentioned the theme here, because beyond the wonderful title – which, I’ve discovered, you probably have to be at least 45 or so to get – the theme is irrelevant. There’s flavor text on the cards, but I never read them; I played this once without my glasses, so I couldn’t have read it if I’d wanted to, and it didn’t affect my ability to play the game at all. I can say that the game plays well with two players, which is unusual for a trick-taking game. It’s different, since it’s easier to guess what the other player might or might not have, but it still works really well. I prefer SCOUT, but if you love SCOUT and want something in a similar vein that’s offers a few new twists, you should put Seers Catalog on your order form.

Undergrove.

Elizabeth Hargrave has already cemented her place in board game history thanks to her design of Wingspan and her choice to devote much of her time and energy to promoting diverse voices in the space, notably women designers. She followed it up with The Fox Experiment, a completely different sort of game other than the two games’ shared basis in real science, and now is back with another science-themed game, Undergrove.

Hargrave’s name on any game box is going to get reactions, pro and con; the board gaming space has its share of incels and other misogynists who seem to rush to savage her games on Boardgamegeek and elsewhere, while I think she also has the benefit of being one of the few designers who even some casual gamers might know by name. I know I’m predisposed to like anything Hargrave does, certainly, because of her past designs and because I’ve had many positive interactions with her over the last five years.

So when it comes to her newest game, Undergrove, I have had a very hard time deciding what I really think of the design. There’s no question the game itself works well – it looks great, feels thoroughly playtested, isn’t too hard to learn, and seems balanced. If someone breaks it out, I’m going to be happy to play it. I’m just not sold that it’s fun enough for me to want to play it regularly.

Undergrove is built around the symbiotic relationship between trees and the fungi that live in the ground around them. Players have a collection of tokens to represent seedlings, trees, and roots, and will play them to the vertices on the shared board they’ll build, where the tiles are fungi that belong to the forest as a whole. You’re managing five basic resources in water, carbon, nitrogen, potassium, and phosphorus, with the last four represented by their atomic symbols on the board, and will use the carbon cycle to continually trade up through those resources to allow you to take the game’s main actions – placing mushroom tiles, planting seedlings, growing roots, and soaking up carbon through those roots to grow your trees.

There are five primary actions in the game, one of which you can always take while the others tend to require you to have something first. There are also four major mushroom types, represented by tokens on each player board; when you take the first action, Activate, you pick a mushroom tile where you have at least one root, then flip the matching token to its used side, which means you can’t activate a mushroom of that type again until you do something to refresh the token. To Activate a mushroom, you pay the carbon cost shown on the tile, then pay whatever other resources are shown to activate its ability. These can include getting different resources in exchange, soaking carbon up into your trees (as in the Absorb action), or copying the ability of another mushroom. Some mushrooms can’t be activated but give you ongoing powers for the rest of the game once you have a single root on them. All mushrooms have victory points you get at game-end for each root you have on them, with a few mushrooms showing a variable victory point value that’s tied to how often it was activated.

The Absorb action lets you bring carbon from connected mushrooms into your seedlings, which is how they grow; once a seedling has taken in 3 carbon, it becomes a tree, and then can’t grow any more. A tree scores for all four of its roots at game end, whereas a seedling only scores for one root per carbon token. The Reproduce action lets you place a seedling and one root at any unoccupied vertex, and optionally to place a mushroom tile. The Partner action lets you place two roots from your supply from one or two of your seedlings/trees on to adjacent mushrooms; you may also choose to play a mushroom tile from your hand to the table. The fifth action, Photosynthesize, allows you to refresh all of your mushroom tokens, and to take two carbon cubes, plus optionally to trade nitrogen for carbon.

If all this sounds a bit … well, educational, it feels that way too. The problem I keep facing with Undergrove is that the actions feel pretty rote, and as a result, the game is lacking the joy of a really great design – never mind Wingspan, since that’s a totally different sort of game to me, but even to other resource management games where you’re gathering resources and trading them up either to build things or to get more of other resource types. I suspect that there was a tradeoff between lighter or freer gameplay and authenticity to the underlying science, which is something I’ve noticed in games explicitly designed to teach a science topic, like Cytosis and Cellulose (both very solid games, but a bit dry to play).

You can definitely get a little engine going in Undergrove, as the game rewards you for cycling through the various actions as efficiently as possible. There are some end-game objectives, and there’s a carbon track that you move up every time you absorb carbon through any means, giving you rewards while also serving as the game’s internal clock. Once any player reaches the top, they get to choose a bonus (probably the two point token) and the game enters its final round. That gives you more things to shoot for as you play so there’s something a bit more than just, well, breathe in (nitrogen), breathe out (carbon).

I’m afraid this game just missed the mark for me on some hard to define criterion. I think in the end I felt too constrained in my choices, though; the next turn’s action was always obvious, and often it was the only viable option. Maybe that was ultimately what made Undergrove fall a little short, despite the tight design, the balance, the fantastic artwork, and clever flourishes like the little boxes to hold your seedlings and roots and trees: I’d rather have more latitude in my actions, even if it means I might take some bad ones, than to have fewer options, or even just one.

Águeda: City of Umbrellas.

Águeda: City of Umbrellas is a great-looking game with high-quality components. I just wish there was more game in here.

Águeda is a town in Portugal that hosts the Umbrella Sky Project, a permanent art installation that began as a temporary one in 2012 but that has expanded and become a major attraction for the city. Several pedestrian streets in Águeda have umbrellas of many colors sitting above them, forming artificial canopies that produce different visual effects depending on the time of day and the weather conditions.

The game Águeda has players collect umbrella tokens from the market and place them in three rows along their personal board, which represents one street. You also have a mural with six tiles on it, all of which begin the game face down; each tile has a different umbrella color on its back. And you have six tourist meeples, three of which are available to you at the start and three of which you can unlock by flipping the two mural tiles in their row.

On your turn, you take a complete row of umbrellas from the market, comprising one to three tokens. If you take a row of three tokens, you must pay one coin to the bank; if you take a row of just a single token, you receive one coin. (I’ll leave it to you to figure out what happens if you take a row of two tokens.) You then put all umbrellas into a single row on your street, in any order you like. Each row has two spaces marked with paintbrushes, and if you place an umbrella on one, you then flip the mural tile with that color of umbrella on its back.

You then may place one or two available tourist meeples on the tourist space next to any row on your board as long as it does not already have any meeples on it. Each of these spaces has two colors on it. If you place two meeples, you get one point per umbrella of either color in that row. If you place one meeple, you must choose one color to score. If you can’t place a meeple, or simply wish to get your meeples back, you may rest instead, returning all placed meeples to their spaces on the top of your board, marked with little suitcases.

Play continues until one player fills all 21 umbrella spaces on their board, after which they get the bicycle token, which has no function other than to mark that someone finished the game, and all other players get one last turn. You then score for your mural, getting 2/4/6 points for flipping 4/5/6 tiles; and you score for the three shops, two of which vary in every game, while the third ostensibly is permanent since it’s printed on the board, although you could just choose a third shop from the deck to cover it. The permanent shop gives you ½ point for each umbrella on your street that matches any of the special wooden umbrella tokens randomly placed on the shop at the start of the game. In the beginner setup, you use two other specific shops, one of which gets two random wooden umbrellas and gives you a point for every column on your street with at least one of those colors, while the other gets one color and gives you 1 point for each umbrella of that color but only if you have an even number of them on your street.

I’m not the first person to compare this game to Azul, but I find it unavoidable, and it is not to Águeda’s benefit. Azul is tighter and has a high degree of player interaction, to the point of spitefulness if you choose to play it that way (I think that strategy has diminishing returns – a little spite goes a long way). You also have a lot to think about on almost every turn. My 7-year-old stepdaughter said the morning after we played Águeda that she thought “the turns got a little boring because you’re just doing the same thing over and over,” and she’s right. You don’t have that many choices, so your decisions on any one turn are limited, and there’s zero player interaction to spice things up.

The game does look amazing, and we all agreed (including my older stepdaughter as well) that the murals are the best part of the game – there are five unique ones and they’re all fun to reveal. It pops on the table, with solid plastic umbrella pieces that feel very sturdy and bright colors all over the place. It’s a pretty heavy box for a light game, with a promised play time of 20-40 minutes that I think leans closer to to 40. There just isn’t enough substance here; it feels like a game that could have been an hour in length with more spaces to fill and a better selection mechanic, maybe even some kind of drafting, or just a different format to the market. I just don’t see any way I’d pick this over the basic Azul game now that everyone in the house is old enough to handle it.

Parks Roll & Hike.

The game Parks has become a huge hit and a franchise of sorts for publisher Keymaster Games, with two expansions, a lighter spinoff game called Trails, and now a roll-and-write version called Parks Roll & Hike. It carries forward the theme of the original Parks game, but it’s a completely different game – it’s a lighter roll-and-write game that has some superficial similarities to Parks/Trails but almost nothing in common in the play experience.

Parks Roll and Hike takes place over three days, each lasting 4-5 turns, where players will draft dice on each turn between an orange Leader die and several white dice. The dice show symbols that allow you to mark off certain spaces on your scoresheets, which come in cute little notebooks that represent hikers’ journals, definitely the best part of the game’s compact design. You’ll fill raindrops in your canteen to score based on how many columns you’ve filled at the end of each day. You’ll draw sights on mini journal pages and then write three lines in each to gain bonuses. You’ll mark off spaces in four wildlife rows, earning bonus actions for each and then earning points for certain pairs of wildlife sightings. You’ll fill in sun circles that allow you to choose the Leader die on later turns. And you can fill in binocular circles to earn a bonus for every two, starting with free wildlife sightings. At the end of each day, you get some additional bonuses from the Sunset bonuses above the mini journals, and you can spend extra suns to buy some bonus specific to the trail you’re hiking. (The game comes with six trails, each with some unique scoring options.)

The game itself couldn’t be much easier – you pick a die and mark off one or two spaces, then maybe mark off something else because you unlock a bonus. The scoresheets are easy to read and understand, and it’s not the sort of roll-and-write where you get long chains of bonuses like Three Sisters or the Clever series, so turns are pretty quick. You could probably teach this to anyone even if they’ve never played anything more complicated than Yahtzee or Qwixx.

As with most roll-and-writes, there’s a solo mode where you’re mostly just trying to rack up the highest score possible. I haven’t gotten over 42 points, which the game says is a good score but not close to the best, because I clearly haven’t figured out any of the best ways to chain bonuses. In the solo game, you get one die for free on each turn, including the Leader die, but if you spend two suns you can choose the Leader die plus another – and then you get to sketch whatever landmark is showing at the next stop on the trail. It’s a pretty significant benefit and there’s a timing element to it, since you can’t do it on every turn, and there will be landmarks you want to sketch more than others.

If I sound a little conflicted on Parks Roll & Hike, well, I am. I like it and have played it quite a few times since I got my review copy at Gen Con. I like most roll-and-writes anyway, and this is an above-average one for me. I also am not sure if it brings anything new at all to the genre, and I don’t think the theme totally comes through in the game – which is very tough to do with most roll-and-writes, for what it’s worth; Three Sisters is the best example of a game of this style that integrates its theme, but it’s a rarity. Most roll-and-writes or flip-and-writes are just about checking boxes and chaining bonuses, and Parks Roll & Hike does that well enough for me to recommend it, even though I feel like it’s missing a little something in the style department.

Dorf Romantik.

I’ve played the solitaire video game Dorf Romantik, and found it kind of mindless – yes, there is some scoring to consider, but you always have a ton of options, it’s pretty easy to hit the basic objectives, and the game goes on way too long. I don’t really get the appeal, but I’m also not a video gamer of any stripe.

The board game adaptation of Dorf Romantik won the Spiel des Jahres in 2023, and man does that baffle me. The game isn’t bad; it’s just boring, even with the various additional rules you unlock as you play the campaign and get a handful of new tiles and tokens. I’m baffled by its victory, or the claims that either the board or video game is some sort of gentle or relaxing activity. It is aggravating in its dullness, in that while playing I thought of all of the other things I could do.

The board game is sort of a cooperative game, but the rules are the same as in the solo mode and I have no idea how or why you would play this with others. You draw a new hexagonal tile on each turn and place it on the board, making sure it is adjacent to at least one tile already on the map along a side (not a vertex). Tile edges only have to match if there’s a river or a railroad on the edges; otherwise, you can place tiles anywhere you’d like. Some tiles have a flag icon indicating that you must draw and place a scoring tile on them, which will display a number and show the color of one of the terrain types (including the river and railroad). To win the flag and its victory points, you must then create a continuous region of that terrain type, including the tile with the flag on it. Some require an exact number of tiles, while others have a minimum number that you can exceed. (Once a flag is removed, you can of course go beyond the number.) You can’t place a tile with a flag on it in such a way that its flag requirement will already be satisfied, of course. You must have at least three active points tokens on the board at all times; if you finish one, you draw a new tile from a separate stack that will give you a new flag.

At game end, you add up the values of the flags you completed and then score your longest river and longest railroad. That’s the first game, at least, as the box comes with a soft campaign where you mark off circles on a separate sheet to track your progress and then get to open additional boxes that add new rules and tiles once you reach certain milestones. The new stuff adds a little complexity and some additional ways to score, along with some different tiles that do things like combine a river/railroad with a terrain so the latter isn’t split in two, but none of it fundamentally changes the game.

The video game is actually worse, although I know it’s been a massive hit, probably aided by its low price (I got it on sale on Steam for under $10). That game gets longer as you complete its objectives, adding tiles to the stack every time you finish a flag, so you actually have to play worse to get it to end sooner. I suppose in that sense the board game is an improvement, because the tile stack is finite and thus so is the playing time. The video game version also sets objectives based on the number of trees or houses in a contiguous set of tiles, which becomes just the number of tiles showing these things in the board game, another big upgrade because in the video version you’re really just taking the app’s word for it.

I don’t think this game needs to exist in the first place – it’s not so much that it’s bad, but there is nothing original here, and it seems like little more than a brand extension. It’s like solo Carcassonne, which isn’t a thing. Nobody gets in your way and if you don’t get the tile you need this time, you’ll get it soon, because nothing is scarce in the tiles, not even the railroads or rivers. It just … is. I need a whole lot more than that from a game.

(There is a two-player version called Dorf Romantik: The Duel that just came out this month. That might be a lot more interesting, as it has a module that involves some direct player interaction. Or maybe it’s just another cash grab.)

Life in Reterra.

The earth has been devastated by some sort of apocalypse – take your pick, there are just so many options to choose from. Now it’s up to you to try to rebuild your part of the planet, with enough diversity in your terrains to help all species grow, attracting inhabitants and even constructing some basic buildings to get civilization back on track.

Such is the backdrop for Life in Reterra, a new family-level game from designers Eric M. Lang (best known for heavier games like Blood Rage and Ankh) and Ken Gruhl (Cahoots, Happy Salmon, and the underrated Mystic Market) that draws heavily from Kingdomino but offers a ton of replayability because you can change the scoring. It’s a strong filler game, definitely one to play with the kids, that can move very quickly because turns are so simple and most of the complexity within the game is in the scoring at the end.

Players in Life in Reterra – by the way, I’m embarrassed at how long it took me to realize what “Reterra” meant – will build a 4×4 tableau of square tiles, each of which is divided itself into a 2×2 square of one to four terrain types. Some squares have relic symbols on them, which are worth a single point each if still visible at game end. Some squares have gears, which you can cover immediately with an inhabitant meeple for another point at game end, or you can leave open to try to create a pattern of two to four connected gears that you can cover with a building.

The turns are extremely short: on your turn, you either take a tile from the market or use one of the three tiles you were dealt at the start of the game, placing it on your tableau. You place inhabitants on any gears, if you want, or a building if you have the right configuration of gears. That’s it. Go around the table 15 times and the game’s over. I can see why BGG lists a play time of 35 minutes for it – if everyone’s engaged, you can rip through this game really quickly, and usually you can figure out your turn a player or two before it gets to you.

The buildings are the heart of the game, and the best aspect of Life in Reterra is that they’re flexible: The game comes with three sets of building tiles, with five buildings per set, and each building has a double-sided card with slightly different scoring. There’s a recommended beginning building set, but you can mix and match as you see fit, so if my math is correct there are 7776 combinations just in this base game. Some may not necessarily work that well, so the rulebook recommends a few combinations to get you started. Most buildings give you a few base victory points, but they have additional powers that range from sticking a junk token on another player’s relic space (turning it from +1 points to -1 at game end) to giving you one extra inhabitant per turn until all buildings on that terrain area are full to giving you one point per square in your largest contiguous area of one terrain type.

The game-end scoring is where it gets tricky enough that you’ll need an older player to take over. Inhabitants, relics, and buildings score as described above, with the buildings scoring their base value plus a variable bonus for some building types. For every contiguous area of a single terrain type that covers at least 7 squares, you get three more points. There are also special “energy source” tiles that score 8 points each, but only if they’re completely surrounded by other tiles – that is, they have to be in the 2×2 square in the middle of your 4×4 tableau. Counting squares and then moving building pieces aside to ensure they’re counted correctly is where this requires a little experience in dealing with board game scoring mechanics.

If the game only came with one set of buildings/scoring cards, I think I’d get tired of it quickly, just as I got tired of Kingdomino quickly. (Then again, Queendomino added a bunch of new scoring mechanisms, and that game sucked.) I’m more intrigued because there are so many ways to mix up the cards and get a game that’s more or less competitive, or that rewards more or less diversity in terrains, and so on. It’s a strong family-level game, probably not something I’d break out for a game night group but a good one for kids who have reached the point where they can play ‘adult’ games. (My guess is this will be on the bubble for my best-of-2024 list – it’s turning out to be a very strong year for new board games.)

Escape from New York.

The film Escape from New York is a cult classic, a film that is a weird relic in its way, aging more poorly for its simplistic views of the technology of the future than for any social aspects or commentary. A convict named Snake Plissken is sent into the penal colony of Manhattan to rescue the President from the prison gangs that run the island, leading him to team up with three untrustworthy people he meets there to try to complete the mission and escape with the President and a cassette tape (!) with critical information.

It’s perfect fodder for a cooperative board game, and indeed Pendragon Game Studio has produced just such a product, bringing on designer Kevin Wilson (Descent, Cosmic Encounter) to create it. Escape from New York the board game is solid enough and reasonably true to the theme once you get it on the table and set up, but this thing is a massive table-hog with too many components, and the rulebook is way too long and convoluted for a midweight game.

Players play as the four main protagonists of the film – Snake, Maggie, Brain, and Cabbie, with the game using the actors’ actual likenesses on cards and tokens. The game plays 1 to 4 players, although there are no separate solo rules; I assume you just play as a single character in that case, or control any number of characters you’d like. The players will start at the Library in the center of the large board, revealing adjacent spaces before moving into them, fighting prisoners, picking up items, and eventually reaching the Points of Interest spaces where they might meet any of the three Boss enemies (Duke, Romero, and Slag), find the President, or discover something else of importance. The goal is to get the President and the tape and the diagram of one of the bridges off the island, then get all player tokens to the start of the bridge, after which any one player can move everyone off. You need to do this before the Timer deck reaches the final card, which is the only way the players can lose.

That’s the most clever aspect of Escape from New York: You can’t die during the game; you can just run out of time. Players’ actions are all determined by their cards, with each character getting a unique deck and players beginning the game with their entire decks in their hands. If you take damage from a prisoner or a boss, you discard that many cards at random, rather than losing hit points. To pick up your discard pile, you must advance the Timer deck by one card, so this is a drastic choice you want to use only when necessary. Losing a lot of cards to damage results in moving through the Timer deck more quickly.

When you reveal an empty space that isn’t a Point of Interest, you take a tile from either the City or Central Park decks and flip it over, revealing icons that show what you’ll find there. Usually that’s one or two prisoners, but sometimes it’s an item, sometimes it’s a manhole that lets enemies move around more quickly, and sometimes it’s an event symbol that tells you to flip and reveal the top card of the event deck.

On your turn, you play two cards from your hand, choosing them both at the start of the turn before you know the outcome of the first card. Most action cards will advance the Noise tracker on the New York board; when that reaches ten you move a Mission cube, and when all four mission cubes are in the right box you flip and resolve another Timer card. Then you flip two cards from the New York deck, one of which advances the Noise tracker by one space, the other of which tells you an action to take that somehow makes things worse for you. All enemies in adjacent spaces will move into your token’s space if possible. Then the next player goes.

By now, you probably have some sense of just how many components there are in Escape from New York, and I haven’t even mentioned the roadblocks, cars, levels, special action cards, or personal objectives. (It’s semi-cooperative, as any player can turn traitor and try to win by themselves.) The rulebook itself doesn’t even cover everything – I found at least one icon without any explanation, and I wasn’t the only one confused about where the Duke is supposed to appear – and it explains many of the rules completely out of order of how you’d encounter them. A game with this many moving parts needs a quick summary to explain the basic rhythm and then a clearly organized list of explanations of all of the constituent parts of a turn and icons players might encounter. It’s not actually a heavy game, but it looks like one, and sets up like one, and the overlong rulebook (it’s at least 24 pages) makes it feel like one. It’s a shame on some level, because the game is way more accessible than it will seem to new players. All the card text is self-explanatory, and most of what you’re doing is moving, fighting, or “tricking,” a way to move prisoners out of your way without killing them. The setup has close to 20 distinct steps. Even bagging it up is a drag. Despite all of that, I would still recommend the game to players who like a heavier cooperative experience than Pandemic, and certainly to gamers who like the film. (Oh, I saw a video sponsored by the company in advance of the crowdfunding effort where the scapegrace describing the game called the movie “a very old film.” I got so mad I threw my Timex Sinclair 1000 out the window.) I can’t imagine bringing this to my table very often, though, given the setup and the time it’ll take to explain all the parts to new players.

Evergreen.

I loved the game Photosynthesis when it first came out in 2017, as it brought something quite new in its sunlight mechanic and also was striking on the table with its three-dimensional trees of varying sizes. I didn’t think it held up as well on repeated plays, and the cardboard trees took a beating rather quickly.

Designer Hjalmar Hach apparently thought he could improve on the original as well, reimagining the game as Evergreen, which doesn’t have quite the visual impact of Photosynthesis but which makes the game play itself simpler while it makes the strategic aspect more complex. And there’s something clean about the new board and the cards that make the game easier to look at, even if you lose the coolness of the 3-D part.

In Evergreen, players will plant sprouts in six biomes on their own boards and then grow them to small and then large trees, all of which is done by drafting cards in each round. Players choose their sprout locations to build the longest possible chain of trees while also maximizing the sunlight they’ll take in from each of the four directions as the sun rotates around the board. Trees cast shadows behind them, though, so they block trees directly behind them from collecting sunlight (and points).

In each round, players will draft cards that dictate where and what they’ll be able to play. Each card shows a specific biome (or a white background that can stand in for any biome) and an action, the two of which are unrelated. For the biome, you can plant three sprouts, grow two plants to the next level, plant one sprout and grow one plant, or ignore the biome on the card and just do one of those two things in a biome of your choice. For the action on the card, it gets a little more interesting, because actions become more powerful the more often you take them. These include planting more sprouts, growing plants from sprout to small tree or small tree to large, adding a lake that immediately grows two adjacent plants, adding a bush that extends your chain of contiguous trees but won’t collect light, or taking immediate points from the rose action while adding nothing to the board.

The card that isn’t selected by any player goes to the fertility area of its matching biome, which matters significantly for end-game scoring. Each card can have one to three fertility symbol at its top, or a skull showing aridity, or no symbol at all. You discard the cards with no symbols on top, and you place cards with fertility symbols face-up on the matching pile. Aridity cards cancel out the last fertility card played to that biome – when an aridity card is left over after the draft for that round, you flip over the face-up card on that biome’s pile and play the aridity card on top.

The number of rounds in each season varies, decreasing by one for each season, from five rounds in season one (spring) to just two in season four (winter). At the end of each season, you score points for sunlight hitting your trees, getting 1 point for each small tree and 2 for each large one, but a tree only gets sunlight if it isn’t in the shadow of another tree between it and the sun. Small trees cast a shadow of one space and can block a small tree behind them; large trees cast shadows of two spaces and can block small or large trees behind them. This gets tricky as a large tree that receives no light because it’s blocked by a large tree in front of it can still cast a shadow and block large trees behind it, so, for example, four large trees all in a line would score just two points for the first tree and nothing for the next three. (The rule book depicts this way more clearly than I can explain without diagrams.) Then you count every tree in your biggest Forest (chain) of connected trees and bushes, taking 1 point for each in the cluster.

After you do the end of season scoring for winter, each player scores points for every biome by multiplying the number of large trees they have in that biome by the number of visible fertility symbols in the card pile for that biome. This can get pretty large, since that’s how multiplication tends to work, and can inform your strategy throughout the game both in what cards to try to push to the fertility zone and where to focus your construction of large trees. That’s the only additional scoring at the end of the game.

For whatever reason, Evergreen hasn’t quite caught on like Photosynthesis did, and I think that’s part of why it is now available in digital form on Board Game Arena and now as a standalone app for $4.99 on iOS, Android, and Steam. I think it’s a great game and have now played it on the table, on BGA, and on the iOS app (the last one vs AI), so I can vouch for all platforms. It deserves a wider audience than it’s gotten, and I would definitely choose to play it over Photosynthesis thanks to the greater player interaction and simpler components so I’m not always knocking over trees. It came out in 2022, so it won’t be on my best-of-2024 list, but it would have made my top 10 for its actual release year.