A popular subset of board games are those that are effectively role-playing games without the actual role-playing (not terribly unlike video game RPGs). They typically feature plastic miniatures, interlocking cardboard tiles, a booklet of scenarios, and lots of dice; one player is usually designated as the antagonist and controls the enemies and traps while the others represent the heroes and typically work together to defeat the scenario. 

Claustrophobia, designed by CROC and published by Asmodee, is one such dungeon crawl, although featuring play for only two players. It borrows the setting and theme from a previous game by the same designer (Hell Dorado), in which desperate humans on a devastated Earth have actually attempted to colonize parts of Hell. Needless to say the resident demons are less than thrilled about the existence of “New Jerusalem”.

One player is in charge of various human characters. The main human warrior (in most scenarios) is called The Redeemer, who has special abilities that vary from scenario to scenario; the remainder of the human player’s forces are comprised of condemned prisoners conscripted into service and come in two varieties: hulking Brutes and nimble Blades for Hire. The actual composition of the humans’ party varies in each scenario, but never exceeds five Warriors (two Brutes, two Blades, and the Redeemer). The humans also have a small number of advantages (special one-use cards dealt out randomly from a deck of fifteen) and occasionally some additional equipment like shields or even a blunderbuss.

On the other side are the Demons and their seemingly endless hordes of Troglodytes. Each scenario has a specific type of Demon, with its stats and abilities indicated on reference cards; the demon player can usually only summon their Demons twice per scenario and never have more than one in play at a time (mostly because only one Demon figure is included; they have access to up to eleven Troglodytes, however). Troglodytes pretty much define “cannon fodder”, but can gain various abilities temporarily via the “Board of Destiny,” which I’ll get to in a minute. The demon player can also draw Event cards that are largely analogous to the humans’ Advantages.

The turn sequence starts with the human player rolling action dice equal to the number of warriors they have in play. Each die is then assigned to one of the warriors, which will determine their movement, combat, and defense skills for that turn; the Redeemer’s gifts also trigger off specific values being assigned to him. Then in the humans’ action phase each warrior can move and explore the catacombs, drawing a random dungeon tile from the stack and having the demon player position it on the table; warriors can also engage in combat either before or after moving (but not interrupting a move; if you move first, you stop once you fight). Once all of the human warriors have performed their actions the game moves to the Threat Phase.

During the Threat Phase, the demon player rolls at least three “Dice of Destiny” and assigns them to his Board of Destiny. This board contains ten spaces with varying requirements (“two even dice”, “a total of seven”, etc.) and corresponding effects. After assigning dice, the demon player may summon warriors by spending Threat Points (usually accumulated via one of the Board’s options); Troglodytes cost one TP each, while Demons require five. There are restrictions, however: demons can only be summoned on tiles with at least one unexplored passageway, and only if no human warriors are present on that tile. A key part of the human player’s strategy will be managing exactly where the demon player can summon enemies; of course, there are abilities on the Board that can circumvent these limitations, so no position is truly “safe”. The demon player then gets an action phase just like the human player and then the process repeats until the scenario is over.

Movement is governed by two inherent rules. The “Tunnel Size Rule” that prevents any more than three warriors from each side from being present on a given tile; some tiles are exceptions and allow either only one or up to five from each side. The other governing rule is the “Blocking Rule”, which prevents a warrior from leaving a tile if he is outnumbered by opposing warriors. Some warriors have abilities that modify the Blocking Rule; Brutes have the Impressive talent which basically imposes the Blocking Rule on all opponents at all times, while Blades have the Elusive ability that allows them to ignore the Blocking Rule entirely. There are ways for the demon player to access these talents as well, and if those two abilities are ever in conflict they simply cancel each other out and the normal Blocking Rule is in effect.

Combat is quick and simple. The active warrior selects his target (all Troglodytes on a tile count as a single target) and then rolls a number of dice equal to his combat score. Every result that equals or exceeds the target’s current defense score (usually three) causes a wound. It only takes a single wound to slay a Troglodyte, but Demons usually take several hits before they go down. When a human warrior receives a wound, the human player chooses one of the lines of action to “turn off”; an action die assigned to that line in future turns results in the warrior being “exhausted” and unable to move, fight, or put up more than a token defense. The sixth wound dealt to a human warrior kills him.

A scenario can usually be completed in around 45 minutes to an hour. But despite only allowing two players to go at it for such a short time, Claustrophobia consumes a TON of table space. The dungeon tiles are enormous, approximately five inches square of extremely thick cardboard. Many scenarios require at least ten of these tiles laid out in a serpentine manner. Then there are the human player’s card stands, which are one of the neatest innovations offered by the game if a bit bulky. These stands hold reference cards for the human warriors and has indentations to accommodate the action die and damage markers. On the demons’ side of the clutter is the Board of Destiny, made of the same heavyweight cardboard as the dungeon tiles but about eight inches square, plus his accumulation of Threat Points. Then you need space for rolling dice, unused miniatures (mostly on the demon side), referring to the scenario in the rule book, and two small decks of cards. It all adds up rapidly, to the point where an eight-foot table that can normally accommodate three one-on-one games is dedicated to just this one game; anything smaller will probably require some compromises.

But greedy spacial requirements aren’t necessarily a reason to dismiss a game. Unfortunately, a high price tag often is. In addition to thirty-six thick dungeon tiles, cardboard reference cards that are placed in plastic stands, a dozen dice, plastic damage markers, and various cards and tokens, Claustrophobia also includes seventeen fully painted miniatures! That all combines for an MSRP  of around $65, which can be a lot to ask for a one-on-one game. It’s a solid game (both mechanically and literally) with some neat features, but there are better games available for much less (and to be fair, a few that cost more, like Agricola — although they usually support more than two players). If you can find this for less then retail it should become more appealing, as few games of this nature can boast such a short session time. Regardless of what you’re willing to pay for it, adding to the value of Claustrophobia is the fact that additional scenarios are available online from the creators, expanding the game beyond the six that are included in the box; also included is a bidding variant that allows advanced players to modify the existing scenarios to provide a further challenge.

One of the most fun gaming mechanics is the “press your luck” element; typically this involves one player continuing play until either they decide to stop or until some unfortunate outcome forces them to end their turn and lose all of their progress. The Sid Sackson design Can’t Stop! is that element distilled to its rawest form, which makes for fast and fun play.

On their turn, a player receives four six-sided dice and the three “runner” tokens. On their first roll, they have to generate two numbers by pairing the dice as they see fit. They place runners on the board in the columns indicated by those numbers. Then they can either stop or roll again. On each subsequent roll they have to be able to generate at least one of their previously-rolled numbers, at which point they advance the respective runner one space; the third runner is a one-time safety net that can be placed on an off result if — and when — one occurs.

When a player stops, he places his colored tokens on the last positions of the runners and passes the runners and dice to the next player. On that player’s next turn he can resume from those positions should those numbers come up again. Other players’ tokens on a column are ignored unless using one of the included variants. Of course, should a player fail to hit one of his three targets he ends his turn and removes the runners without gaining any ground.

If a player stops with a runner at the top of a number’s column, he has won that column and that number is no longer available for any player’s use; this is also true for the rest of that player’s turn while the runner is in that position. Each number requires a different number of hits to win, based on how likely those numbers are to come up. It takes thirteen hits to win column 7, but only three for both 2 and 12; each step in between is two additional hits. The first player to claim three numbers (or more in variants for less than four players) wins the game. 

Rolling a combination that allows you to only place one runner thanks to the other pair producing a “dead” result gives you an additional safety net on your subsequent rolls (another included variant does not allow this). Once all three runners are placed then the claimed columns become irrelevant for that player’s purposes. However, it is entirely possible for an initial roll to produce no viable results later in the game once two or three numbers (or even one in the case of 2 and/or 12 and a roll of all ones or sixes) have been claimed.

Naturally the only real strategy in the game comes from knowing when to pass the dice, although how you split up your initial roll(s) can affect your turn as well. Everything else is luck, obviously, but in a filler game like this that’s not too much of a hindrance. In theory it’s possible for the game to end on the first player’s first turn with a spectacular series of rolls! The far more likely scenario is a player slowly making progress along his three columns while the other players try to egg him on into making “just one more roll” and potentially missing, effectively wasting his entire turn.

Can’t Stop! supports up to four players; it suggests ages nine and up but really any kid capable of adding up to twelve should do fine. Technically the game can be played with nothing but four standard dice and a score pad, but the package offered by Face 2 Face Games is only $30 and features some solid plastic tokens and game board; the box is large, but only because of the 13 x 11 board (shaped like a stop sign). Like most filler-level games, it will quickly earn its worth in entertainment value in only a few sessions and is a nice casual game for all levels of experience.

Image by GamerChris

There’s been a murder in New Angeles (or the moon colony of Heinlein), and you’re trying to figure out the guilty party — and maybe even uncover the conspiracy behind the killing — while dealing with your own personal issues. You’ve got twelve days, and you’re not the only one working this case. 

Welcome to the sci-fi noir world of Android, by epic game designers Kevin Wilson and Dan Clark (published by Fantasy Flight Games, like most of Kevin Wilson’s output).

Assuming the role of one of five characters, each with his or her own abilities and issues, you and the other players have to manage your time (basically actions) each day as you try to gain the most victory points. While a substantial amount of points can be gained by proving your guilty hunch correct (this isn’t Clue, and there isn’t one “correct” guilty party), that’s not the only patch to victory. You might want to investigate the conspiracy (represented as a simple puzzle with four branching paths) or make sure your own house is in order first (each player has several “plots” that represent various personal problems; each one has several possible outcomes, both good and bad). There’s a lot of balls to keep in the air, and not a lot of time in which to do so. Setting your priorities is just one factor of the strategy you’ll need to survive.

The bulk of your turn will consist of moving from one location to another. Each detective has an arced, compass-like ruler that represents how far his or her vehicle can travel for one time; if you have a dropship pass you can spend it and one time to move to any location, regardless of distance. Once at a location, you can follow up any lead that may be present, gaining either evidence (either incriminating or exonerating) to place face-down in the “file” of one of the suspects or digging into the conspiracy; some locations might also have their own ability that you can use once per day at the indicated cost of time and favors (basically the game’s currency, available in four different types plus character-specific types that count as multiple normal types). When you follow up a lead, it is moved to a different location by the player on your right, representing the trail of evidence. Time can also be spent to play one of your “light” cards, if you meet the conditions listed on it, or to draw a card of your choice (either one of your light cards or another player’s dark cards, played during their turns); you have a Twilight State that shifts up and down as cards are played, so you usually have to balance your light and dark usage. Finally, you can spend one time to discard a card if you’ve reached your limit and anticipate drawing more; cards can also be discarded to reduce costs of other cards, so this option is rarely used but sometimes necessary. There are other ways to spend time, but those are the major ones.

As you go about your business you will accumulate good and bad baggage on your current plot, determined randomly at set-up. Each branch of the plot has different conditions to gain baggage; some are passive (whenever you place evidence on a suspect), some are active (whenever you sacrifice two time). At certain times during the game the plots advance: if there is more good baggage than bad, they resolve positively; otherwise (including ties) they resolve negatively. After the first plot fully resolves, you randomly select one of your remaining plots for the second week of the game.

After the final day of the game, the evidence on the suspects is revealed. Different types of evidence have varying effectiveness against different suspects (e.g., few witnesses testify against “Vinny the Strangler,” although he’s not so good with paperwork and other documents); the highest-valued evidence in a suspect’s “weak” file and the lowest-valued evidence in their “strong” file are removed, then the guilt is totaled up. Whoever has the highest total is the murderer (and whoever has that suspect as their guilty hunch receives points) while everyone else is innocent (and the players’ innocent hunches pay off). Then other sources of VP are added up and however has the highest total is the winner.

Mechanically, Android appears to be very complex due to all of the available options but in reality it’s simple enough that most players should pick things up quickly. The real trick is keeping the attention of new players, as the game can theoretically take at least three hours to play; if they’re not having fun, that can drag on and really hurt the experience. The theme of Android is awesome, and a strong hook to get players interested along with the cool-looking art and other bits, but often overlooked due to the time it would take to read the flavor text on the cards — especially while you are watching other players’ actions to see if you can play dark cards against them and/or give them bad baggage. Bear in mind that the suggested age range is 13+, due to the extensive reading, complex mechanics, and somewhat mature themes.

Due to the time commitment, Android will probably need a game session dedicated to it, most likely on a weekend. I would definitely recommend printing out some player aids and/or rules summaries from BoardGameGeek.com as well, as they condense the game’s 50-page rulebook down to a manageable — and less intimidating — size (to be fair, most of the large-type rule book’s space is artwork and flavor, but still). There are six different murders — most with their own special rules — as well as several event cards (which happen on non-plot days, including one of three murder-specific ones) to keep things fresh over multiple plays, should you decide to give the game another go. Due to the price this is definitely a “try before you buy;” it’s certainly not for everyone, but those who enjoy the theme and mechanics will find themselves coming back to it as often as possible. 

Last time I discussed Ghost Stories, a cooperative struggle against the evil spirit Wu Feng and his seemingly endless hordes of ghostly minions. There is only one way to win Ghost Stories, and three ways to lose. The game is hindered by a reliance on randomness, especially as more players become involved, which can turn some players against it. Fortunately, the recent expansion, White Moon, addresses some of these problems.

There is still only one way to win, although there are even more possible incarnations of Wu Feng that might turn up. White Moon even adds one more way to lose, but it makes one of the previous loss conditions a little less likely and — more importantly — adds a bunch of new tricks to help the taoists in their struggle. Finally, it also adds new ghosts and one new village tile; one random tile will not be included in the village when you set up), and ten (additional) cards are randomly removed from the Ghost Deck prior to adding the Incarnation(s) in order to keep the numbers consistent. Which ghosts are — and are not — included can have a dramatic impact on how the game plays, which keeps the game fresh.

The main addition to the game are two dozen villagers inhabiting the previously mostly-empty hamlet. Eight stacks of three villager tiles are placed on the shop tiles (only the top villager is face-up), with the ninth tile (recommended to be the center tile for most plays) housing a Portal through which villagers can be sent in order to rescue them. The villagers come in families that range from one to three members; rescuing an entire family bestows that family’s boon to the active player. Many of these boons are powerful artifacts that grant additional abilities (some of them one-shot, others continuous), while additional Qi, Tao Tokens, or other benefits are also possible. Unfortunately, each villager that dies inflicts a curse on the poor taoists, some of which can be very nasty — including immediately calling forth one of the unused incarnations of Wu Feng (this is the curse of the Wu family, appropriately)! If twelve villagers are killed, then the players lose the game.

Villagers die in one of several ways. The most direct is via a new ability of the ghosts that “devours” one every time it happens. If a tile that would become haunted contains villagers, then all of those villagers are killed instead (and each of their curses applied) and the Haunter re-sets as normal; villagers are aware of the threat posed by Haunters and the closest revealed villager to a Haunter will run away the first time it advances… but if they can not run (because the tile they would run to is haunted, non-existent, or already containing its limit of three villagers), then they die. Finally, one of the villagers’ curses it to kill another villager (not to mention one family that haunts their tile upon death). When not running away from Haunters, villagers can move along with taoists as long as the destination tile is not already full. Taoists on the Portal’s tile can use their action to rescue the top villager of that tile’s stack. Finally, the Graveyard tile (if present and not containing three villagers already) can resurrect a slain villager.

One other villager who assists the taoists is the spirit of Su-Ling, who gave her life to secure the ashes of Wu Feng so long ago. Whenever something bad happens to the players — a villager dies, a tile becomes haunted, or the Curse Die is rolled (even if it yields a blank result), then Su-Ling may be placed at the end of that turn. Su-Ling neutralizes the center ability of whichever ghost she is placed in front of: Haunters do not advance, Tormentors do not force the Curse Die to be rolled, etc.. While she cannot be placed in front of the mighty Wu Feng, this is still an incredible ability that can buy the players a ton of time, but that’s not the limit of Su-Ling’s powers. If she is placed next to a corner tile and there is no Moon Crystal on the pedestal next to her, she can place one there from the reserve.

Moon Crystals can also be obtained via the Herbalist village tile (if present), defeating certain ghosts, or via one of the family rewards. Players can place them on the pedestals if they end their turn on an appropriate corner tile or spend them as if they were Tao of any color (although they cannot be shared on other players’ turns like actual Tao). If all four pedestals contain Moon Crystals, then after the active player’s turn there is a special Mystic Barrier phase.

Starting with the player (or board) to the left of the active player, the Mystic Barrier can either consume a Moon Crystal to rescue a villager (if none are present at the Portal then the player may choose any revealed villager to rescue) or roll all four Tao dice (including the grey die normally only rolled by one of the powers of the green taoist) against all of the ghosts on that board; remaining Moon Crystals can be spent as if they were wild Tao, but regular Tao and any reroll abilities of the taoist (including artifacts) are not applied — and nor are the curse/rewards of any ghost exorcised in this manner. Once all four boards have had their Mystic Barrier phase, any unspent crystals and Su-Ling are returned to the reserve. My group has dubbed this the “spirit bomb,” and the destruction it can wreak on the ghosts is significant — and if along the way you happen to rescue the family whose boon is to erect the Mystic Barrier, you get to do it again! 

It’s amazing how much more I appreciate Ghost Stories when played with the White Moon expansion. Su-Ling is invaluable in containing threats while you deal with more pressing matters, and rescuing villagers isn’t as much of a distraction as it would seem at first glance. Being able to “sacrifice” three (or fewer) villagers to delay a haunting is also surprisingly effective in buying you more time to deal with threats, although you do run the risk of a nasty backlash from the curses. Without the expansion, Ghost Stories is a game of attrition and heavily luck-dependent; with it, strategy takes a much stronger role in determining the outcome, although a nightmarish shuffle can still smack you around. I won’t go so far as to say you shouldn’t play without White Moon under any circumstances (you should at least do it once, if only to have a “before” frame of reference), but I know I’m never going back to playing without it.