Almost to the end of the list now! These games are ones that I would play anytime, anywhere. These would always get a resounding “YES” from me, if ever asked to play
It’s one of the most satisfying dexterity games I’ve ever played. There’s a high skill ceiling, but also great potential for laugh out loud funny moments. From bouncing off two of your opponents disks to land in the centre, to fully missing the most basic of shots.
The translucent colourful dice are simply beautiful, and when beautiful components are paired with a simple yet satisfying puzzle, you get a perfect introductory game. I cannot tell you how many people I’ve convinced to start playing board games regularly when I see them doing a Sudoku, and I give them a nudge into the hobby with Sagrada.
The positive player interaction. One player builds a coal or iron mine, another player consumes it to build something else, both players benefit. That on top of some really interesting dynamics make Brass: Birmingham a top tier game.
Oh man, it’s a shorter list to say what I don’t love about Scythe. To pick one thing that really draws me into this game, I love that it’s a ‘cold-war’ game. The threat of combat is so much more present than the actual combat. I’ve had games where I was the loser of the only combat encounter of the whole game, but I ended up as the overall winner. It sounds counterintuitive, I know, but it’s endlessly satisfying.
My favourite Stefan Feld game by far. I love how simple each turn is, just use your two dice, but how efficently you use your actions determines how well you do in the game. There’s a push to fill your small provinces early to get the bonus points for doing so, but those large provinces offer huge rewards, if you can complete them. One day, I want to complete the whole board. I don’t know if it’s possible, but it’s what I want to do.
Oh gosh, Calico is a puzzle game with teeth, and I love it for it. Every hex you place feels impactful, and deciding to put a purple dots tile in one spot means you’re choosing to not pursue three other objectives with that spot. I have my head in my hands the entire time I’m playing Calico, which doesn’t sound like a good thing, but I love the burn this game gives my brain
Leaving a trail of workers behind and then doubling back to pick them up again is a genius mechanic. You want to be efficient with your actions, and spending time going back to a space you don’t need is painful, but running out of workers means you can’t do anything. I also love how fast Istanbul is to play, with most games taking around ~25 actions, you can fly through games, assuming no one is stalling at the market for too long.
The auction/bidding mechanic that makes money flow around the table, and the game constantly pouring more and more money into the economy letting the bids grow bigger and more ludicrous makes for exciting rounds. I love pricing one tile just a bit too high and watching my opponents agonize over spending that much cash on a single tile. I don’t even care if I win, I just want my friends to be uncomfortable for a bit!
It’s 15th century France, the Loire valley. As influential nobles, you do your best to lead your duchies to prosperity through careful trade and – stop. Let’s be real. No one actually cares about the theme of a game that’s as generic and overplayed as The Castles of Burgundy, right? How does the theme relate to the mechanics of the game? What do the dice even represent? None of that really matters. What you’re here for is to see if the dice game version of The Castles of Burgundy is fun to play or not, right?
In my The Castles of Burgundy: The Card Gamereview, I mentioned that I was hoping that it would be a distillation of the main game, streamlined and slimmed down to a smaller box, faster play time, and hopefully retain that Castles of Burgundy feel. I was disappointed with the card game product, but I’m back to take another stab at the apple, and see if the dice game is what I was actually searching for.
The Castles of Burgundy: The Dice Game, designed by Stefan Feld and Christoph Toussaint, comes in a very small box, about the size of a paperback book. Inside are 5 pencils, 5 dice, and a book of 100 player sheets, all double-sided. There are about 50 copies of each of the 4 different duchies for variability, and that’s it. To play, all players are given a single sheet, and a pencil. While the components in the box limit the number of players, there’s no reason you couldn’t play with as many people as you can find pencils for.
Two of the dice have colours on each face. Two of the dice have the normal 1–6 numbers, and the remaining dice has 1 or 2 hourglass symbols. Gameplay is just have one person roll all 5 dice, mark off the number of hour glasses on the time track in the top right corner, then choose a pairing of dice to fill in on your player sheet. One colour and one number. All the different provinces in your duchy have different requirements. The purple monastery hexes require a 1 or a 2. The Mines need a 3 or a 4, and the shipyards need a 5 or a 6. The green castles need to have the same number as an adjacent tile, the yellow animal tiles all must be the same number within a single province, and the orange city province must have all different numbers. When you complete a province, you’ll earn points based on the ‘era’, plus points based on the size of the province. Furthermore, once you complete a province, you’ll unlock a benefit that you can use later. Be it a worker that allows you to change the number dice to any number you want, a monk who does the same thing, but for the colour dice. A silverling that allows you to take a second pairing of dice, or goods you can ship for more silver and points.
Roll the dice, pick one pair of dice, and colour and a number, mark it on your sheet, and roll again. Continue following this pattern until all 3 ‘era’s’ are complete, and the player with the most points is the winner. The only bit of interaction between players comes in the form of completing all the hexes of a single colour to earn a small amount of bonus points. Beyond that, it’s a heads down, solitaire experience where you’re just trying to amass the most points, with nothing but the dice to get in your way.
If the goal was to have a shorter Castles of Burgundy experience, I think The Dice Game nails it. It plays start to finish in about 15 minutes, max. With a maximum of 10 and minimum of 5 dice rolls per era, this whole game exists within 15 to 30 actions. Sometimes you’ll start the game with nothing to do, as the colours and numbers rolled just don’t exist next to your starting tile. Not much to do but take a worker, then move onto the next round.
I don’t play many roll & write games, so I can’t really compare this game against others that share the mechanism. I do know one of the things I look forward to in these types of games is triggering cascading combos, and that doesn’t happen here. Players are restricted to only using one bonus on their turn, so the most you can do is “mark off this one, which completes this province to get points and this bonus, and I’ll use this bonus to take another pair, which marks off this one over here, which completes that province for points and a bonus”. That’s it, that’s the biggest turn that will happen in this game. Maybe if both of those province completions also trigger the “first to complete all of a colour” reward as well, but that’s surely an edge case scenario.
My biggest complaint with The Castles of Burgundy: The Dice Game is easily the graphic design. The player sheets are incredibly small, and there’s a lot of information packed onto each sheet. That itself doesn’t bother me, but the darker background and use of pencils feels like a major oversight. In theory, you’re supposed to circle a benefit when you earn it, then cross it out when it’s used, but the pencil lead blends in with the black circles, making it real hard to see at a glance what you actually have. More than once I passed whole turns, thinking I had no options, only to realize later that I actually had 2 workers waiting in the wings. Bigger sheets and white circles would have helped this problem massively.
That said, it is a fun little dice game. It’s a quick little puzzle that you can bang out during a quiet morning, or at any table in between activities. Playing with more players doesn’t increase the play time, but it also barely increases the tension. More players are competing for those “first” rewards, but at the end of the day, the only thing you’re competing against is your own score.
The Castles of Burgundy: The Dice Game won’t replace the full game anytime soon, but it’s a cute little distraction that I was happy to pick up. I enjoyed this much more than The Castles of Burgundy: The Card Game, but it’s not a game that I’ll be pushing to play with anyone and everyone.
At this point, trying to review a game like 2011’s The Castles of Burgundy is kind of like trying to review a Toyota Corolla, or a pizza. Everyone already has their own experience and opinions have already been formed. The Castles of Burgundy is a staple of the board game hobby, and it often comes up as the best ‘next step’ game for players who are ready to graduate their tabletop games into something a bit deeper and more complex.
Playing The Castles of Burgundy is simple enough. Each turn, all players roll both their dice, then in player order, they use both their dice to complete actions, such as taking a tile from the centre board into your personal supply, placing a tile from your supply onto your personal board, getting 2 workers (which will allow you to modify your dice), or shipping goods that you’ve collected for some points and silver.
The crux of the game is the pips of the dice dictate which spots are available to you. If you’re taking a tile from the game board to your player area, you can only take a tile from the area that corresponds with the pips of the dice you’re using. The same applies when placing a tile from your player board into your countryside, you can only place a tile on a spot that matches the colour of the tile, and the pip of your die. Of course, you can always use workers to modify your die pips to offset impossible situations, if you have them. You can always spend a die action to generate two workers, but that feels like a total waste of an action, so plan your turns wisely.
Every tile you place into your player board benefits you in some way. Many buildings give you a specific bonus action, grey mines will earn you silver every round, animals earn you points, yellow monastery tiles will either give you a persistent power, or, offer end game victory points. Furthermore, completing a province (a collection of same coloured spaces) will earn you victory points. More points the larger the province, and more points the earlier in the game you manage to do so.
All of these restrictions and bonuses makes The Castles of Burgundy feel like an intricate puzzle. Every action leads to more actions, and you’re constantly fighting between your short term gains and long term goals. Despite this complexity, the actual gameplay is broken down into bite sized pieces. On your turn, you have 2 dice. Some turns do spiral out of control when a player manages a wild combo of special actions that feels almost unfair, but for most of the game it’s just players quickly taking or placing tiles, then informing the next player it’s their turn.
The points in The Castles of Burgundy are plentiful and come from almost everywhere. The trick of the game is amassing more than your opponents. It doesn’t matter if you managed to score a respectable 186 points if everyone else around the table flew through the 200 point threshold. With points coming from a myriad of places, it can be hard to prioritize any one objective, especially when many of the big point scoring opportunities require more than the 2 actions you get on any given turn.
The most common criticism of The Castles of Burgundy is the bland, beige player board. There’s nothing exciting about a grid of hexes with dice printed all over the place. The next most common criticism is the luck factor, which inevitably comes up in any game where you roll dice to dictate your actions. It’s crushing when you roll double 2’s for four turns in a row. You exhaust all you can possibly do with those numbers, and end up burning actions to generate more workers in a desperate attempt to do anything. Further to that, it sucks when other players just happen to roll exactly what they needed every round. That said, there are 25 dice rolls per game, the luck should balance out with that many rounds.
In the years following the original release, two more editions have been produced. In 2019, Alea and Ravensburger published a new edition with updated artwork and a couple expansions included (the pictures in this post are from this version), then in 2021 Arcane Wonders crowdfunded a lavish new edition. While I haven’t laid my hands on the latter, I recently played with my friends copy of the 2019 edition, and felt quite disappointed. The new art is lush and colourful, but the iconography on the tiles is incredibly small and hard to read. I have read that this edition is more colourblind friendly, but it’s still not perfect. I vastly prefer my old copy to this newish edition.
As I said before, The Castles of Burgundy is a modern classic at this point. It’s been over a decade since its original release, some would argue it’s prolific designer Stefen Feld’s best game. It’s the kind of game that everyone who is interested in the board game hobby should play at some point, and while the original version is a beige map with a boring cover, the gameplay itself holds up spectacularly. It’s wildly satisfying to play and offers a great experience, even after a decade of playing board games.
What is a point worth? This is a question that comes up frequently when I’m learning new games. After the rules are done and the scoring conditions are being discussed, I have to ask what the average score tends to be. Unfortunately, I am frequently playing new games where no one at the table has any anecdotal evidence of what’s average final score, can be.
If you’ve played a lot of games, you may have run into this problem. Say you’ve just finished off a game of Castles of Burgundy. You managed a pretty good score, just squeaking over that 200 point mark. Feeling pretty good about that score, your friend pulls out Agricola. During the rules teach they mention that if you can’t feed your family during a harvest, you’ll have to take a beggar card for every food you’re short, and those are worth -3 points. “No problem” you think to yourself. 3 points is basically nothing. Flash forward to the end of the game and the winning player earned 30 points. You look down at those three beggar cards you took right off the bat and realize that 9 points is ~30% of a winning score.
In some games, it’s fairly easy to get a feel for how valuable a single point is. In Dune: Imperium, the first player to get to 10 points triggers the end of the game, and probably wins. In that case, it’s easy to see how valuable a single point is. In Food Chain Magnate, your money is your score, and the game ends when the bank is depleted. You know the total sum of ‘points’ available from the moment the bank breaks the first time.
Players all choose how much money the bank will have at the start of Food Chain Magnate
Other games have their scoring a bit more nebulous. Wingspan for instance, the final score will be highly dependent on which scoring objectives come out, which birds are available, and how many scoring cards each player managed to take into their hand. The scores in Isle of Skye can swing wildly, depending on just the order in which the objectives get scored!
Another thing to consider is some games have a fairly set amount of points, no matter the player count. Vikings and Raiders of the North Sea are two games that don’t scale with player counts. The competition for each point becomes fiercer the more players you add to the game. This is especially frustrating when someone offers anecdotal evidence, “Oh yeah, Otter and I played Raiders of the North Sea a few months ago. Our scores were in the 80 point range”, not realizing that in a 3 player game, 60 points a more average score.
11 points is a big difference in a 4 player game of Raiders of the North Sea
So, naturally, when playing so many different games, it can be hard to value a point. Knowing when to throw away a card that offers you two points in favour of something else can be key. I’m not going to take one of the 4 point buildings as my first pick in Castles of Burgundy, but in some other game, getting an easy 2 points is a worthy trade-off. And Bigfoot finally got sick of my whining, so he created Goodat.games to solve my whining.
Goodat.games queries BoardGameGeek’s user submitted scores and plots out the average score on a handy graph to answer the question, “What is a point worth?” It includes filters to sort by the number of players, narrow down the subset of data based on a year or month, and can even tell you what the average score is for each placement in a game (e.g. the average winning score in a 4 player game of 7 Wonders)
What’s the average winning score of a 4 player game of 7 Wonders? Around 58
Goodat.games is a work in progress, but it has become such a handy tool in my board game life, that I feel compelled to share it with the world. There are limitations, like it doesn’t have every game available, and adding new games requires a 10-minute buffer as to not make too many API requests and get itself blocked by BGG. Games that have the same name as others, or trying to specify which edition or expansions, are all extremely tricky things to try and solve for. But for my purposes, it has become a site that I pull out anytime I’m learning a new game. Now I never need to guess at what the value of a point is. In Gizmos, the difference between a 1 point card and 3 point card is the difference of 3% of your final score, and 10% of your final score. Meanwhile, in Whistle Mountain, the average score is 134, so the difference between a 1 and a 3 point tile is .7% and 2% of your final score.
