Dungeon Lords is the best game ever, or The Emperor Has No Clothes

Dungeon Lords is the most interesting, engaging, rewarding and fun board game that there has ever been.  It has pathos and irony, plays great with two, three, or four players, the art is wonderful, and it makes you a better person with a deeper understanding of life when you play it.  Of course, I just sort of have to take your word for it because I actually can’t figure out how to play it.  But everyone says it’s awesome! It has a really high ranking on BoardGameGeek (currently 69^th)! It must be the best!

Doesn't this look fun?

At what point is a game not worth playing due to the rules being so complex that the balance of time put into it is not worth the return of “fun” that I am getting out of it?  I’ll let you in on a secret. I play board games because I like them and I find them to be really enjoyable. Enjoyable in the actual moment of gameplay, not because I want to blog about them or to endorse the most obscure game that I can find.  So here’s the deal with Dungeon Lords. I just can’t make sense of it, the game is apparently over my head. The rule book is 24 pages with all sorts of pictures and snarky commentary from monsters! It comes with special boards that have the sole purpose of helping you learn how to play! (So clearly I’m not the only person who has struggled with this.)  I’ve had Dungeon Lords for about two years and not once have we actually played a game through to completion. It’s just too obtuse and far removed from what I want in a game.  I know that this is a personal thing, I’m not damning the entire thing, it’s just not for me.  Actually, I think I might be damning the whole thing.  Who wants to play this? Is it really fun?

I assume that the counter argument here is that once you learn how to play it’s a really great game.  It’s an acquired taste.  But I have so many other games that I really like, so why would I struggle with something in the hopes that one day it will maybe be as fun Ticket to Ride or King of Tokyo? I suspect that Dungeon Lords is actually a great idea more than a great board game.  The concept is awesome.  You take on the role of a monster that owns a dungeon. It is your responsibility to stock the dungeon with traps and monsters, and then adventurers show up and try to take your shit.  And you try to kill them.  Clever and just the sort of role reversal, meta gaming that I really dig.  Except that that the execution of it actually sucks.  There are so many counters and tokens to keep track of, all sorts of different phases to the game that all have their own rules, and the game just seems to move really slow.  Of course, when you have no idea what is really happening it tends to draw your interest away from the actual game. 

After two years I need to admit that Dungeon Lords is just a sunk cost, I will never get anything even close to the $50 that I spent on it back in enjoyment.  I think I may be writing this blog just so I can get some use out of it.  Currently, there is a stack of games on top of Dungeon Lords, it has literally been buried by just about every other game that I have. 

Animal Lord prestige class

The relationship between D&D characters and animals is well established in many parts of the game; there are animal companions for druids and rangers, wild shape, handle animal skills, nature summoning spells, and lots more.  It all makes sense since there is a long history of this type of relationship existing in fantasy stories and lore.  But for some characters it’s not enough to merely be friends with animals and summon them to do their bidding. No, other characters really intend to take it too far and cross some sort of line and maybe become an animal. Kind of?  And it is for these characters that the Animal Lord was born! The Animal Lord is similar to other prestige classes in that a character gives up progressing in their previous class, however it differs because it also seems like you get nothing in return for it.  Seriously, unless your idea of a new power is a claw attack that does 1d4 damage or the ability to detect horses.  And if it is, then this is totally the class for you. 

The thing I like most about the Animal Lord is the great degree of variety that you can find in them.  There are eight different Animal Lords listed (each one connected to a specific animal type) and the requirements are pretty wide open, so all sorts of builds can get into them.  Generally, any sort of warrior type makes the most sense.  The majority of Lords will be rangers and barbarians.  So really any character can wind up as a Horselord as long as they take Run as a feat.  Fifth level is the earliest point of entry. 

As I understand it, Animal Lords are essentially animals in their soul but were unfortunately born into some sort of humanoid form.  The prestige class is a way for them to get closer to who they feel that they really are. In a way that’s really sad. I feel bad for them, they just want to be accepted by their animal brethren. I feel even worse for them when they begin to acquire the shitty abilities that go with their search for identity.  At first level they get the ability to Detect Animals at will, but limited to the type that they are connected to.  I guess this is how they make friends in the animal world, especially when coupled with the Animal Bond that they have with the animal type as well (giving them a bonus to handle animal).  A 4th level they can Speak with Animals, but only once a day so I don’t think they are going to form any lasting friendships. It just seems so desperate.  They need to use magic to make friends. Who would want to adventure with one of these weirdos?

The definitive trait of the class comes at third level and is called Wild Aspect, which is when the Lord actually begins to take on characteristics of their animal type.  Specific to each animal type, the abilities are an all around plethora of actual garbage.  Now, these are characters that are at a minimum eight level. You know what’s really useless for that character?  A claw attack that does 1d4 damage.  Its cool to fight like an animal, except that these characters can actually use weapons.  Do you think that a cat chooses to use his claws because they are awesome? No, it’s because they can’t hold a sword. If they could they would happily abandon their claws for it. (Maybe there is a Human Lord prestige class available to animals?) The sample character presented in the book is a barbarian/Apelord with the following attacks listed in it’s stat block: +14 melee (1d12+7/x3 with a greataxe) or +13 melee (1d4+5 with a claw).  Hmm...which should I attack with? 

And these crappy powers aren’t even active all the time! They start off at once a day for a minute a level.  I get it, having that claw attack all the time is way too powerful. The wizard would definitely get jealous. Other examples are the Sharklord’s 1d8 bite attack, the Horselord runs faster, and the Snakelord gets a weak poison bite. 

Fifth level’s Summon Animal is probably the only ability that is actually good.  The Lord can summon some animals to help him out, or maybe to just bullshit and have a conversation for a couple of minutes.  There are some decent options like a polar bear or a dire lion. 

There is also a bonus feat at sixth level and an attribute increase (+2!) at tenth level, but that’s about it.  The bonus feat is predetermined and features such stellar options as Trample for the Horselord.  The winner has got to be the Apelord’s Brachiation, one of the weirdest feats in the game. It’s actually pretty cool, but I’m not sure how good it is. 

I’ve only seen one actual Animal Lord in play, a strange Cat Lord (read more about his untimely demise here), but I think that’s enough.  There just isn’t really anything going on with them.  If you really like birds you can still dress up like one and act like one if thats what your character wants to do. The best of the bunch is the Wolflord, which is halfway decent though still subpar.  It gets scent and Improved Trip, but that’s not much for the level investment.  I think that any character is better off staying with their original class. 

Suel Arcanamach prestige class

The world of Dungeons and Dragons certainly has no shortage of character classes that blend magic and melee. The Abjurant Champion, Eldritch Knight, and Spellsword are just a few of the many masters of the martial and magical mixture. However, only one of this archetype is good at jumping, tumbling, and speaking some strange language that is the D&D equivalent of ancient Latin. That’s right, the somewhat odd, but actually really cool Suel Arcanamach. The prestige class has it’s roots in the World of Greyhawk campaign setting, where the Suel are some sort of something or other. Honestly, I’m not sure and I don’t think it’s all that relevant. Not because I don’t like the fluff of the character (I actually really like it) but because I usually just don’t really care about the history of fantasy worlds. I like to live in the present of made up worlds. All that being said, the Suel Arcanamach is an interesting class and a real good approach to the fighting spellcaster concept, but an even more interesting approach to prestige classes in general.

See, the unique thing about the class is that they are a spellcasting prestige class that does not need to know how to cast spells to get into the class. It’s probably a waste if your character can already sling spells, actually. The entry requirements for the Arcanamach (I’m making it campaign setting neutral and dropping the Suel) are a decent bunch, but more than anything they take an approach to prestige classes that I rarely see. One of the major problems that I have with a lot of classes is that you just fill some random requirements and then, suddenly, your character begins to develop an entirely new set of abilities. The same is also true of multiclassing into a new base class. Wait, how did my rogue learn to spontaneously cast Grease? But the Arcanamach actually resembles a character that is learning something, that is breaking away from just being a martial character and moving in the direction of acquiring some new skills.

They need a +6 Base Attack, proficiency with at least four martial weapons, four ranks in tumble and jump, and Iron Will. That seems like a somewhat standard, mobile combat build to me. However, they also need (and this is where is gets interesting) Combat Casting, five ranks in concentration and spellcraft, be able to speak Ancient Suloise, and must have read the Grimoire Arcanamacha or studied with someone who knows it really well. Remember, this is not a spellcaster to begin with. You’ve got to take Combat Casting without being able to cast spells! Awesome. Speaking some weird ancient language is sort of a throwaway for flavor, it’s not like it costs a feat, it’s just a language. And since most D&D characters seem to have ability to be tri-lingual or so, it’s not that big of a deal. The spellcraft ranks are a bit tough to swallow for a lot of martial characters, it’s just that very few of them have it as a class skill. And since it will probably be cross class it will also slow down the entry into the class by a level or two.

So what martial class makes the best Arcanamach? The natural assumption is that a character that already has some magic would be the best, something like the Hexblade or Duskblade. The catch is that the Arcanamach does not advance casting the way that most prestige classes do, but rather has it’s own spell list. Therefore, the mediocre casting of the Hex-and Dusk-blades will never get any better. The character that seems to make the most sense, to me, is the Swashbuckler. It has good fighting, doesn’t use heavy armor (which will interfere with the Arcanamach spellcasting), access to some Charisma skills, and also those physical skills that the class needs. The problem is that the Swashbuckler sucks after three levels, so what to fill those other levels before qualifying? This is where the Hexblade comes in.

Swashbuckler 3/Hexblade 3 makes a real good entry into the Arcanamach. For one it can easily meet all of the requirements by 6th level, allowing access to the class at 7th level. But more than that I see this combo making sense. A physical, swashbuckling character adventures for a little while and gets exposed to some of the more magical aspects of the world and begins to develop a taste for magic (i.e. he becomes a Hexblade). Some magical abilities begin to develop but it isn’t until he discovers an ancient tome that teaches him to blend magic and melee that he actually learns the skill himself. And if you wanted to take it one more level in Hexblade you could get a familiar and some first level spells. Not a bad option.

Okay, you’ve finally found a logical way to get your character to be an Arcanamach. After all this, was it worth it? D8 Hit die, medium base attack, two good saves, and 4+ skill points are a nice start. They also receive Charisma based spontaneous casting that advances slightly quicker than a normal progression, which is a good way to make up for the late entry. The spells they get come from the wizard list, but are restricted to Abjuration, Divination, Illusion, and Transmutation. It’s not everything, but there are plenty of awesome options contained within those schools. After a couple of levels your Arcanamach can be casting Shield, True Strike, Protection from Arrows, Blur, Haste, and many others.

They also get a handful of other abilities, none of which are great but all have their uses. Some extended spells, dispelling strikes, and the ability to reduce spell failure in armor.

At the end of the day the Arcanamach lags behind classes like the Abjurant Champion and the Duskblade in terms of power. But it is so much cooler than those, because it actually makes sense as an example of a character growing into a new type of power, which is what prestige classes should be. It’s not overpowered, it lets a character do something that a base class build can’t do, and the requirements mean that you actually need to commit to the build by making some not so great choices. I also really like classes that are self reliant and can actually do the things that they are supposed to do, as opposed to relying on magical items and the party cleric to buff them up. The backstory of the Arcanamach is that they originally started off as bodyguards and assassins, particularly ones that were experts at killing mages. This class seems capable of doing those duties.

The Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh

I haven’t had much time lately to concoct compelling fantasy role playing universes, so in order to get my role playing back on track I decided to dig into some published modules and source material (which I have oodles of around the house). The first adventure that I decided to run was the classic Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh (U1), one of the favorites of my youth. It tells the story of a spooky haunted house and what is really going on inside of the abandoned manor on the outskirts of the remote fishing village, Saltmarsh. Originally published for 1st edition, I decided to run it for 3.5 since that is the version that most of the players know the best. I saw that there were some 3.5 conversions of it out there but I figured I know enough about D&D to convert it on the fly. And besides, the whole point of a module was to save myself some time. Additionally the 3.5 Dungeons Masters Guide II has an example of a premade city, which just so happens to be Saltmarsh. So plenty of stuff for me to draw on.

The main reason that I am generally not into modules is that they require the players to follow a somewhat linear path, which is not really the way that I enjoy playing the most. Sure, I will lure the players in with hooks but I really like when they just sort of pursue the agenda that they are most into, which is usually killing things, rejecting authority, and then looting all the corpses that they have left behind. And yes, I actually play with adults. But it’s a lot of fun. So my hesitation in running a module is that they would break from it right away. But the Sinister Secret is a well thought out adventure and I though that they would be into it. And they were. At least the first half of it.

The Sinister Secret is actually the first in a series of three related modules (the U series of old D&D) but I planned from the beginning that I only wanted to run the first. The following two (Danger at Dunwater and The Final Enemy) are a little too heavy on dungeon crawling and require the party to act nobly in order to progress the story and I knew that was not going to happen. So I modified some of the background info and made the haunted house of Saltmarsh stand on it’s own as an adventure. For example; the smugglers are working closely with a merchant in town rather than selling weapons to lizardmen or sahaugins or whatever it is that they are doing in the published module. This way it can all wrap up neatly and the party can move on.

The module is broken up into two sections; the first is the investigation of the “haunted house” and subsequent uncovering of the smuggling ring; the second part is the taking of the smugglers boat with the help of some townsfolk, ultimately smashing the smuggling ring for good. The party that I played with had zero interest in the second half of the adventure. They knew that the boat was out there, but did not seem to care about it one way or the other. In fact, they never even told anyone in town that the house was actually filled with smugglers and not ghosts! Instead, they came back to town with some gold and confirmed that yes, the house was haunted and the townsfolk should continue to stay away from it. Hmm, I did not expect that. What it came down to was a desire to head off to a bigger city or a place with more opportunity. They came out of the house with some strange, and valuable, items like a skull made of solid gold and an apple that was also solid gold. They knew they couldn’t get good value for them in the small fishing village so they were on their way to greener pastures.

It has been a long time since I have run a 1st edition module and some things really jumped out at me as to how the game has evolved over the years. One of the most interesting involves the nefarious waghalter, Ned Shakeshaft. Ned is planted in the house to slow down the party, ideally he joins the party under the guise of being a thief that was waylaid when he came into the house and at some point attacks the party after earning their trust. Now, the way that the module is written makes it so that there is really no way for the party to prove that he is up to no good. Which I thought to be really odd and strange. First off, what sort of adventurers are not going to suspicious of this guy? His story sort of adds up, but come on? The text of the module says, “...it will not be possible for the party to unmask Ned simply.” He is well prepared to answer their questions and has a somewhat plausible story to tell them. Ultimately it comes down to what the party wants to believe and how they want to act towards him. It is sort of forcing the party into a metagaming role, I think. Basically, there is no mechanic to determine if he is lying or not, nor is there one to represent Ned’s obvious skill in weaving a tale to tell. Now, of course, 3.5 D&D has a mechanic for this. Sense Motive vs. Bluff is all about this. As it happens one of the party has a very high Sense Motive and used it in this situation (unfortunately for them Ned had a high Bluff and the party wound up buying his fishy story). I think I prefer this way. One of the other characters firmly believed that Ned was up to no good, but sort of fell in line when the investigator character said that Ned was on the up and up. This is a more accurate reflection of a character’s in game skills than just letting the player’s decide what is happening. I think it also encourages better roleplaying in the sense that the party will then have to play along with their perceived view of Ned, even if it is what they, as players, do not believe.

The adventure is designed for character levels 1-3, which is really nice. There seems to be a dearth of cool, low level modules that provide a decent challenge. However, it is also written for 5-10 players! Wow. That’s a lot of players. Again, it’s a reflection of the early days of D&D when a much larger group would gather for the game and probably play for an entire day. I’ve done the big group thing and I’m not much of a fan of it, but it was easy to alter it for a smaller group (four players). I do like the premade characters in the back of the book, especially Megaron the Bold and Gerald the Seeker. Who would name their character Gerald? Also strange is Caine the Despised, the Cleric/Magic User with a 17 strength and 10 intelligence. I see why he is despised.

One other aspect of the module that was top notch was the artwork. It wasn’t just generic fantasy work pulled from a neutral source, but actually detailed drawings of what was happening in the module. I thought that it was great and actually helped me understand the setting better since I could actually see what it was supposed to look like. An excellent inclusion.

The Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh is a really solid adventure. The plot is well thought out and makes a lot of sense. It is not just a group of bad guys hiding out and stocking up on magic items, waiting to be killed by adventurers and looted of their booty. It is through no fault of the module that the party did not follow it through to the end, they just had a different agenda. Which is really the beauty of D&D. The players can go anywhere and do whatever they want. And on that note, it’s on to Greyhawk! Which I am totally geeked about.

We Hardly Knew Ye: Newport the Goblin

(One in a series about adventurers who were better off staying at home.)

Who was he? Newport was a third level goblin rogue. A sneaky little fellow with excellent lockpicking skills and some opportune sneak attacks, he endeared himself to his fellow party members with his brutal style of cold hearted murder, most exemplified by his savage killing of a town magistrate that wanted the party dead. Newport snuck into his house and waited outside of the nursery of the man’s child. When he exited the room Newport (along with his hobgoblin partner, Thatcher) ran him through with a sneak attack that quickly took out the adversary before he even had a chance to react. The party rejoiced. Previously, Newport had showed off his quick reflexes by grabbing a falling wine bottle in the cellar of the magistrate’s house, thus preserving the party’s under cover status as they snuck into the house.

Newport was a member of a society of somewhat civilized monstrous humanoids. One day while out hunting, they returned to find that their entire clan had been killed by adventurers! No good adventurers. Killed everyone they knew, took all of their possessions and then left the area. The party was on a revenge mission. Unfortunately for Newport, he will never get that satisfaction.

What happened? A bit overeager, Newport may have bitten off more than he could chew by foolishly charging into a fort occupied by some rangers. Generally it’s not a very good idea to have the rogue with eight hit points (he was wounded) be the first one into the melee, and this example just further supports that somewhat sound theory. Waiting for him was the Forest Warden, a burly fellow with a great axe who just so happened to have Goblin as his favored enemy. Newport may as well have been a pinata. He wound up killed with a single shot, a clean slice across his chest that left him chopped into two pieces. This spurned numerous Newport:Dead Without Pleasure comments from the players at the table.

It probably would have made more sense for the orc barbarian to charge in first, but no one ever said that these monsters were genuises. The orc happen to be outside lighting the fort on fire. The fort that Newport had just charged into. In defense of the orc he had just been introduced to the exciting world of burning down the homes of humans (it started with the Magistrate) and was clearly excited by the prospect of another arson.

Personally, I enjoyed Newport and was a bit sorry to see him go. It is somewhat ironic that the player had just told me the day before that he was really enjoying Newport and looking forward to seeing how he developed. Not going to happen now.

Master's Gallery review

I’ve really enjoyed both Incan Gold and High Society from the Gryphon Games bookshelf series, so I though that I would give Master’s Gallery a shot, which is another game in the series of quick playing games. At first I was intrigued by what I thought was a pretty clever game mechanic and I enjoyed the quick play. However, subsequent games have left me a little bit disillusioned and feeling like the game actually lacks much strategy and that playing it is sort of like running through the motions without having to think very much. I know, it sounds like a real blast.

Master’s Gallery is a card game for two to five players played over four rounds. There is a deck of 95 Masterpiece cards, each of which is a painting from one of five famous artists; Van Gogh, Monet, Degas, Vermeer, and Renoir. Players take turns placing a card in front of them on their turn, once a single artist has six cards out on the table (five in a two player game) from all of the players combined the round ends and the players score for that round. The artist with the most cards gets a three placed on their artist card, the second most gets a two, and the third gets a one. The other two artists do not score for this round. So, If I have three Van Goghs out when the round ends and each Van Gogh is worth two points I wind up with six points for them. Very easy. Almost too easy, actually. The scoring tokens earned each round stay with the artists for the entire game. Next round each Van Gogh card is already worth two points, plus whatever it may earn on each round. Because of this game mechanic cards are worth much more in the latter rounds of the game since they have been accumulating tokens from the previous rounds, which seems like it should matter a ton but I’m not sure that it does.

The problem is that every time I have played it the game seems to sort of go the same way. Something like this: Player A plays a Renoir, Player B plays a Vermeer, Player C plays another Renoir. It’s now my turn. I have a couple of Van Goghs in my hand that I would like to play, but it’s not really worth it since they will probably wind up with little value. However, if I play a Renoir it is all but assured of being the high valued artist for that round and I want my cards to be worth the most. So I play a Renoir. On the next turn A and C follow suit with another Renoir, as do I and then the turn ends (if it even makes it back to me) and we all share in the wealth of the high valued Renoir. Why wouldn’t I play a Renoir? So I can put down a single Van Gogh and get one point for it, when a Renoir is going to be worth three? It’s just sort of a system that doesn’t reward anything other than joining with the masses and trying to get in on the big score before the round ends. And it will continue each round because Renoir cards are already worth three points, so keep playing whatever Renoir cards that you have!

There are some cards that have an additional action attached to them when they are played, such as playing another card or putting an extra point token on an artist. These make the game even less interesting in a way because they seem to really determine who wins the game. Using the above example let’s say that on his first turn Player A played a Renoir with a symbol on it that allows him to immediately play another card of the same artist. So he has two Renoirs out now. This is just letting Player A end the turn even quicker and score even more points. I have played multiple rounds where one or two players only get to go once before it ends and wind up with practically no points, whereas some players have four cards down thanks to some special powers that they happened to come by randomly. I guess my complaint is that it’s just not very fun and frustrating, and not even in a good way because it made me think hard about strategy. But frustrating because I think I’m playing the game the same way that my cat would play, and that’s not a knock on my cat or myself.

One thing that I really didn’t like about this game is that the description of the game says that the players are art dealers and gallery owners involved with valuing the Old Masters. I didn’t feel that way at all. I just felt like I was putting cards on a table, the thematic implications of those actions were so removed from the game that I didn’t even think about it. Would it have been too much to give each player a sheet that looks like a gallery wall with empty frames? Maybe then I would have at least have had an idea of who I was and what I was doing, rather than just numbly placing paintings on the table. I mean, the word is gallery is even in the title of the game. In comparison Incan Gold is also a rather simple card game, but it tells a nice story and contains a narrative as you go. I felt none of that in Master’s Gallery.

I can’t really complain about the art in this game considering that it is done by some of the great painters in history. I’m not a real big fan of Impressionism, but I can’t really argue with Monet and Degas. Thematically the art is the focal point of the game, which is actually pretty cool. Honestly though, I find myself barely looking at the actual paintings, my focus rarely going beyond the colored border and the symbol that may be in the corner.

In the end Master’s Gallery falls short of being a good game. There just doesn’t seem to be much reason to play. It does only take about 20 minutes to play a game, so I suspect that it will find it’s way onto our gaming table from time to time just because we can play an entire game quickly. When a game’s best quality is that it ends quickly it probably isn’t all that good to begin with.

High Society review

Once, deeded lands and blue blood were required to be among society’s elite, but now you can just buy your way into the upper crust! In High Society players compete to see who can squander their newly found riches the fastest by amassing a collection of expensive and ostentatious items. Gems! Yachts! A carriage! Okay, so the carriage isn’t quite as exciting but you do need some way to transport all of your new stuff I suppose. Obtain the most gaudy and frivolous wealth and you win! High Society is a quick playing card game for three to five players. The whole thing takes about 20 minutes to play.

Gameplay is very simple. Every player begins with a bundle of cash in a bunch of different denominations. At the beginning of each turn an item comes up for auction and the players take turns bidding on it, with the high bidder eventually winning the stained glass window or the champion thoroughbred. Each of the ten items is valued at somewhere from one to ten (the carriage is worth one, while the chateau on the lake is the most valuable). At the end the player whose items total the most in value wins. It isn’t quite that simple because there are some catches to how you can bid and score.

The real strategy comes in how you bid and spend your money. Each player has eleven money cards to spend, each of a different value from 2 million to 25 million. Once you bid on an item you can’t pull that particular bill from the table, you can only add to it. For example; if you bid 4 million on a painting and then your opponent bids 8 million, you are not allowed to replace your 4 million with a 10 million. You can add a 6 million to it for a bigger bid but that 4 million stays in place. It matters because you may find that you have used up all your small bills when you want some towards the end of the game. It may make sense to lead with a big bill and try to scare the other nouveau riche away from the bidding altogether.

The other tricky things are the negative cards that come up for auction. I’m not sure what sort of auction house allows a Mansion Fire to go up for bid, but unfortunately it is a reality of your situation. The negative cards totally suck for everyone. You are either going to wind up with something that really crushes your final score or you are going to spend a lot to not have to take it. Essentially players are paying to not have the negative event effect you. I actually think that this might be the best part of the game. And it’s also why you need to hang onto some of those small bills, so you can maybe get out of the negative auction without having to throw down some massive dollar amount. Wouldn’t you rather spend it on a castle?

The final twist comes when the game ends. The player that has the smallest amount of cash left in their hand immediately loses. It’s as if the crocodile from Cleopatra wandered over to 19th century America for a snack. So make sure you keep some cash in the bank or all of your worldly possessions mean nothing. The remaining players then add up their total value and adjust for whatever negative cards they have. Someone wins. I’ve seen players win with a single luxury item, often the big spenders find themselves eliminated in the crocodile round.

In some ways High Society has the same pitfalls as Incan Gold in that the art is sort of crummy. I would be way more impressed with the castle and inclined to spend millions on it if it just looked a little more extravagant. The game is really simple, which is why I think it could use a little boost from the art in the game. Don’t get me wrong, the art is not dreadful. But I do think that a game like this is fun when people get into the feel of the game and actually want the items. Which would be easier to do if they actually looked awesome. I like High Society. The best thing about it is that is quick and really easy, but that’s not a knock on it at all. The world needs game like this because sometimes you only have a half hour and still want to enjoy a game.