This article is going to be more of a review of a game that I really, really like. It is a game which I think is at the top of the pile for me not only because of the rules it uses as part of its experience, but mostly because of the wonderful, wonderful immersive theme that it brings to the table. This article is meant to be an attempt to get readers to understand the way that my mind works in relation to games and the way that I like to interact with rules and theme in order to bring me enjoyment. Now, I don't expect for everyone that reads it to completely agree with me: I would actually be shocked if everyone tended to agree with everything I say, but what I do hope to do is make you think about the subject of theme (which I already touched on before) in a slightly different way as you read about the two games that I will review in this article.
So, if the first thing you thought upon reading the title of the article was 'Vlaada', well, you might be surprised that this article will not review a single Vlaada game. Let me get something straight: overall I think that Vlaada's game are a wonderful fusion of rules and theme that is pretty unprecedented in most other games.
Dungeon Lords does in some way make you think like a dungeon keeper and every little rule has a particular thematic explanation to support it (although I have spoken to people that don't think it's enough like building a dungeon because it's not enough like D&D/Descent/etc: you can't please everyone).
Dungeon Petz feels like managing chaotic pets that might not do what you want them to do at any given time. Space Alert feels like you are in a rapidly disintegrating spaceship attacked from all sides. Galaxy Trucker feels like you are in a rapidly disintegrating spaceship attacked from all sides.
Through the Ages feels exactly like the games of Civilization that you play on the computer, even though the mechanisms are completely different and there isn't even a map. Bunny Bunny Moose Moose makes you feel like you are a complete idiot. All of them wonderful games (well, I don't know about the last one) and all of them perfectly suited to their theme. Unfortunately, I am not going to talk about any of those games, as appropriate as they might be.to this particular topic. If I mentioned any of those, the connection to theme would be too easy to explain. I want a challenge.
The game I want to review in this article is going to be Tigris & Euphrates. Merely by reading that, some readers might have punched their screen in disgust. 'A Reiner Knizia game being called thematic? You have gone too far Tekopo, TOO FAR!'. If you bear with me though, I hope to explain some of the thought processes that have me reached the conclusion that this is possibly one of the most thematic games available, although it hides it's thematic roots very well.
First of all, a brief explanation of the game for those that haven't had a chance to try what is rightly called Knizia's masterpiece. Tigris & Euphrates is a game based on Mesopotamia, the land of the two rivers: each player is in control of a dynasty within the region, with each player have 4 different kinds of leader (unlike most games, it is symbols that denote one player from the other rather than colours). Scoring is based on 4 different colours, with the winner being decided by who has the most in the colour that they have fewest points in (so, if your distribution is 4-5-6-6, your score would be 4). You gain points by having your leaders on the board and either expanding your own kingdoms or conquering other kingdoms: one novel feature of the game is that players don't exclusively own each kingdom, with shared ownership being possible as long as your leaders are a different colour from another player's. All expansion and conquest is done through the laying of tiles on the board. There are a few further features in the game (monuments, internal conflict as opposed to external conflicts, how combat works etc) but this small explanation has gone far enough, considering the aim was to give a brief overview of the game.
Reading the above, you might think that there isn't a lot of theme present: you play tiles on a board and (a bit like Acquire, if two kingdoms touch there is a conflict. How can laying down a tile possibly be compared to actually waging war or taking over a kingdom diplomatically? You might think that there is too much detach from playing the tiles and actually doing the actions that a ruler in those times would do. You might think that having to place leaders on the board and them taking up a space is way too abstract and gamey. And you would be right. If you look at Tigris & Euphrates at that level, the themacity of the game is not present, but the thing about Tigris & Euphrates is that it's not attempting to portray the world at such nitty-gritty level, but actually at a much higher, more simulation-like level. And it's at that level that the theme really starts to kick in and you appreciate the game as more than a simple Euro in which you want to get the highest score possible.
I was able to appreciate this level after I ran one of my Tigris and Euphrates game on a forum. By the end of the game, I had collected all of the updates, turn by turn, each showing the two actions that each player had chosen on each of their turns. For fun, I decided to turn all those pictures into an animated GIF in order to see the progression of the board. What I saw astounded me. The board developed in an almost organic way, each tile-placement almost like a shared decision by the players. You could see kingdoms grow, collide, collapse and then be reformed. Once mighty kingdoms would leave a few lonely tiles on the board (I've forgotten to mention that tiles can be removed from the board if you lose a fight), remnants of a once mighty civilisation that was now no more, lying in the dust Ozymandias-style. Even those remnants would eventually be scooped up by the next big empire. Large empires that had made too many monuments would be greedily attacked by their neighbours and quickly taken apart. Small kingdoms that hadn't had space or time to expand would be attacked by their larger neighbours, only for those neighbours to be destroyed from within either by internal strife or disasters (a type of tile that a player can play in order to create a dead-zone that doesn't count as any tile). Singularly, each placement of the tiles did not seem to drive the narrative necessary in order to have a thematic game, but taken in aggregate all the tile placements by all the players created a shared narrative that seemed to capture the essence of the era much more powerfully than many wargames I have played.
Upon noticing the above, the level of detail present in the game in order to adhere to theme seemed to increase, in my eyes: farms (as represented by blue tiles) can only be placed on river tiles, representing the need for flood-waters to fertilise the soil. The setting up of trade links from one place to another is also represented through the use of treasures. Internal strife is based mostly on religion (a powerful force during those times) while external strife is fought with the relevant colour/theme, be it religious power, farmyards, markets or even armies. It doesn't take long to realise that the placing of each tile doesn't always represent the placing of actual buildings/structures, but also the spread of influence from your kingdom.
Apart from this high-level theme, there is also a very compelling game underneath: a game about being cut-throat, striking when you are strong and trying to shore up your defences when you are weak. The interaction between players is cut-throat, with anyone attempting too much to keep to themselves likely to be beset from all sides if they aren't careful defending their kingdoms. The shared kingdoms can also make it difficult to expand your kingdom without also helping other people. The fact that you are scored on your lowest points in one of the four categories means that you can't just concentrate on a single strategy to win: you have to be flexible. The overall package of the rules really works to give a fulfilling, tactical experience.
In terms of negatives, the game is very much a Euro, much like most, if not all, Reiner Knizia's games. As much as I attempt to show that it has a wonderful sense of theme above, die-hard ameritrash players might find it difficult to find the theme within this game as I described it (although largely this is one of the reasons why I decided to write this review). When I say to people that I think that Tigris & Euphrates is thematic, many times they think I am joking, even when I attempt to explain the thought processes behind this analysis. The main issue is that Tigris is not traditionally thematic: it doesn't match with our commonly held assumptions of how a thematic game should feel and look: it looks like a Euro game with it's different colored cubes and tiles. Other issues present within the game is that, for a Euro, luck can play slightly too much of an element: it is perfectly possible to end up without any tiles in a colour you require and although you can re-draw as an action, if you fail to re-draw what you want, you are still in the same place but now missing an action. The game can also snowball if the players aren't careful, but usually aggressive play can prevent this. If players aren't aggressive enough, though, the game can end up being about who gets the luckiest with the tiles but hopefully as players get more confident they should quickly realise that sometimes it's best to be aggressive.
As I mentioned earlier, I don't really expect everyone to agree with my analysis of the game above and I would actually be interested in hearing anyone that disagrees with the points above. I hope, though, that this piece does showcase slightly better the way that my mind works and some of the reasons why I would give Tigris & Euphrates a very well deserved 5 angry scowling King Philips out of 5.
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