In Theory: When Star Wars Lore Becomes a Rules Engine, Not Decoration

By Søren Kamper

Søren is a guest writer here at Gamersdungeon, and we are thrilled to have him. It’s been a well-established goal that I have wanted to achieve to have more voices speaking through the Gamersdungeon platform, so big thanks, Søren, for your contribution. You’re always welcome!
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The best licensed games do not merely put familiar names on cards and miniatures. They ask a harder question: what should this universe force the player to do?

Star Wars is unusually easy to decorate a game with. Put Darth Vader on the box, scatter a few TIE fighters across the table, add a Wilhelm scream at a suitable moment and the licence is immediately doing visible work. The harder part begins when the box is open. A game can look exactly like Star Wars and still behave like something that could have been about medieval merchants, colonial railways or highly competitive turnip farmers. Theme is cheap when it only changes the nouns. The interesting licensed games are the ones where the verbs change too.

That is one reason Trials of Maya is such a useful recent example of the broader problem. A MOBA-inspired tabletop game cannot simply borrow colourful heroes and lanes as scenery; it has to translate a genre built around unique abilities, pressure, positioning and team roles into decisions that survive contact with cardboard. Star Wars tabletop design faces the same test. The galaxy already arrives with forty-nine years of expectations attached. The rules either turn those expectations into pressure, or they leave them sitting politely in the artwork.

The most interesting Star Wars games usually choose the former. Star Wars: Rebellion makes the Empire and the Rebel Alliance feel different before anybody quotes a film. Outer Rim turns the scoundrel fantasy into an economy of fame, jobs and people who are angry with you. Armada makes commanding a capital ship feel like issuing an order to something too large to change its mind quickly. The Clone Wars takes the relentless spread of a galactic conflict and turns it into cooperative triage. And, now, Zero Company shows that the same philosophy works when the table becomes a screen.

Rebellion: asymmetry does the storytelling

Rebellion works because its two sides are not simply different colours with slightly different unit values. The Empire has ships, troops, production and enough plastic to make the table look as though somebody has emptied a military warehouse onto it. The Rebels have a secret. Their base is hidden, the Empire has to find it, and almost every major decision follows from that imbalance. One side occupies space and gathers information. The other side survives by being difficult to locate, disrupting plans and making every Imperial deployment feel faintly suspicious.

Star Wars Rebellion is often described as “Star Wars In a Box”, a sentiment I fully agree with. It truly captures the sensation of watching A New Hope, with every mechanical and thematic detail perfectly captured. I fully agree with Soren here; it’s almost a magic trick what they manage to pull off with this game mechanically.

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That sounds obvious because it is exactly how the original trilogy works, but that is the achievement. The hidden base is not flavour text explaining why the Rebel player starts with fewer pieces. It is the central engine. Probe cards eliminate possibilities. Imperial fleets spread out because ignorance is expensive. Rebel missions create diversions because a weaker military force cannot afford to play the same game as its opponent. Even the victory conditions are telling different stories: the Empire needs to discover and crush the base, while the Rebels need to outlast the machine long enough for resistance and reputation to grow.

There is a useful comparison with War of the Ring, another licensed design where asymmetry is not a balance problem to be sanded down but the entire point. Sauron should have armies the Free Peoples cannot sensibly match. The Fellowship should have a different route to victory. In both games, the source material gives the designer permission to make the players uncomfortable in different ways. Balance does not require sameness. In fact, sameness would destroy the fiction.

Rebellion is not beyond criticism. Repeated play can expose its structure, and the hunt for the base can occasionally end with the strategic equivalent of opening the correct cupboard by accident. But even those weaknesses reveal how completely the theme and mechanism are fused. If the search loses tension, the game loses Star Wars with it. That is a far more interesting failure than a game whose theme could be replaced by changing the card art.

Outer Rim: Han Solo is a job description

Outer Rim operates at the opposite scale. There is no galactic command chair, no Death Star to position and no reason to care which government controls the Core. The fantasy is smaller and, in its own way, more recognisably Star Wars: get a ship, find work, improve the ship, hire somebody useful, annoy the wrong faction, and become famous enough that people eventually stop asking whether the hyperdrive was legally acquired.

Never had the pleasure, but it’s been on my radar for a long time. I have an affinity for Corey Konieczka’s work, in fact, looking at my gaming shelves, this designer takes up a lot of shelf space. I believe it’s his attention to detail when it comes to linking theme and mechanics together flawlessly that sets him apart as a designer.

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The goal is fame, but the important part is how many roads lead there. Bounties ask you to hunt people. Jobs turn the map into a chain of opportunities and complications. Cargo can be profitable until a patrol takes an interest. Reputation with the Empire, Rebels, Hutts and crime syndicates changes how safely you can move through the same space. The result is that being a scoundrel is not communicated by a portrait of Han Solo grinning from a card. It is communicated by the fact that your best plan is often profitable, questionable and likely to create a second problem before it solves the first.

That is what good thematic design does. It asks what behaviour the fiction should produce. Star Wars smugglers are not interesting because they own fast ships. They are interesting because they live inside networks of debts, favours, employers, rivals and authorities. Outer Rim turns those relationships into a playable economy. A patrol is not just an enemy token. It is a reminder that your previous decisions have a memory.

Armada: a Star Destroyer should not corner like a shopping trolley

Armada may be the purest example of a physical mechanism explaining fictional scale. Star Wars has always told us that capital ships are enormous, but film can cheat. A camera cuts, John Williams does the heavy lifting, and suddenly several kilometres of metal seem perfectly nimble. A tabletop game has to make mass something you can feel.

Soren is absolutetly correct here that Star Wars Armada captures the sensation of what we see on screen mechanically. The added magic trick is that Armada is a deep well of strategic possibilities. This is a war game in the purest sense, with a tremendous amount of Star Wars-based sci-fi realism assumptions that work as strategies. It remains one of my favorite miniature games of all time, a true masterpiece.

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The command stack does exactly that. Larger ships plan commands in advance, with orders buried in a queue before they are executed. A navigation command chosen now may be the thing that saves you later, assuming you guessed correctly about where the battle would be by then. That delay creates command friction without requiring a thirty-page subsystem about naval bureaucracy. The Star Destroyer feels large because your intentions take time to travel through it.

Movement reinforces the same idea. The manoeuvre tool does not merely measure distance; it gives large ships arcs, inertia and commitments. You are steering a capital vessel, not dragging a miniature to a convenient spot because the ruler says it fits. The contrast with the movement-first design of Star Wars: X-Wing is instructive. X-Wing uses hidden manoeuvre dials to create the uncertainty of a dogfight, where reading an opponent matters because fighters can change the geometry of a battle in seconds. Armada slows that thought process down. Both games are about Star Wars ships, but they are not asking the same question.

This is where a licence becomes useful rather than restrictive. The designer does not need one universal movement system for every spacecraft. A TIE fighter and an Imperial-class Star Destroyer should not feel related simply because both have engines. One is a knife fight. The other is urban planning with turbolasers.

The Clone Wars: Pandemic becomes a war

Star Wars: The Clone Wars takes a more visible shortcut because its foundation is the Pandemic System. That could easily have produced a reskin: replace disease cubes with battle droids, rename outbreaks, put a Jedi on the cover and go home early. Instead, the useful question is what the Pandemic structure already understands. Pressure spreads. Problems multiply while you are solving different problems. No player can be everywhere, and ignoring one region because another looks more dramatic is exactly how a manageable board becomes a disaster.

I’m going to have to take Soren’s word on this one; I have neither played Star Wars Clone Wars, nor am I a particularly big fan of the Pandemic series in general. For me, the issue that Soren suggests is not a problem in this variant of Pandemic games is that it suffers from “Alpha Gamer Syndrome,” where a single, experienced player is pretty much going to dictate the decisions for the less experienced players.

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That rhythm fits the Clone Wars remarkably well. Jedi move from planet to planet, droids accumulate, blockades obstruct routes, missions demand attention and villains push the game toward specific kinds of trouble. The system creates the feeling that the Republic is permanently short of time. Winning is not about clearing the map and admiring a clean galaxy. It is about deciding which crisis can be allowed to remain ugly for one more turn.

The best cooperative games understand that cooperation needs adversity rather than politeness. The appeal of designs built around genuine shared pressure is that the table has to negotiate priorities, not merely distribute chores. The Clone Wars inherits that strength from Pandemic and gives it a particularly suitable costume. Ahsoka, Obi-Wan and their allies are powerful, but the war is larger than any one of them. A Jedi can solve the problem in front of them. The rules make sure there is always another planet on fire.

Zero Company: the rules engine leaves the table

The interesting thing is that this design philosophy no longer stops at the edge of the table. Star Wars Zero Company is a single-player turn-based tactics game rather than a board game, but it is wrestling with the same question: how do you make the Clone Wars behave like more than a backdrop for blaster fire? Its answer is to make people, time and preparation into resources.

Everyone is talking about this game right now, it’s being hailed as one of the best Star Wars Games ever made by some reviewers, a claim I have heard many times said about many Star Wars Games. It does look awesome, and it’s definitely on the list!

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On the battlefield, operators spend action points to move, attack, assist, use abilities and hold positions with overwatch. That is the familiar tactical layer. The more interesting translation happens around it. At the Den, the company chooses between missions and non-combat operations, and it cannot do everything in a cycle. Injured operators may be poor choices for dangerous deployments. Relationships between squad members can strengthen or weaken, with bonds unlocking combat synergies. Optional permadeath means a bad decision can become a permanent absence rather than a quick reload-shaped inconvenience.

A complete Zero Company guide quickly becomes less about listing guns and more about explaining those interlocking systems: squad builds, bonds, recovery, resources, the Den and the consequences of deciding who goes where. That is precisely why the game belongs in this conversation. The Clone Wars are not only represented by clone armour, familiar planets and a Jedi in the squad. The fiction is asking the player to behave like the commander of a small organisation operating inside a conflict far larger than itself.

There is a faint tabletop logic to the whole thing. You look at a roster, weigh limited actions, accept that one objective may have to be sacrificed for another and then live with the state you created. The computer handles the arithmetic, animation and line-of-sight calculations, but the dramatic mechanism is familiar: scarcity turns lore into decisions. The player does not merely watch a squad become close. The rules pay out when those relationships become tactically useful, and punish you when people are injured, unavailable or dead.

The real question is what the licence makes you do

Licensed games are often judged first by recognition. Does Vader look right? Are the miniatures detailed? Is the terminology correct? Those things matter, especially with a universe as obsessively catalogued as Star Wars, but they are the easy part. A game can pass every visual inspection and still feel strangely hollow once the first turn begins.

The stronger test is mechanical. The Empire should make you feel powerful and blind at the same time. A smuggler should make money by creating future complications. A Star Destroyer should force you to think several minutes ahead because several kilometres of warship cannot simply perform a tidy little U-turn. A Jedi in the Clone Wars should be extraordinary and still unable to be on six planets at once. A mercenary squad should become more valuable, and more frightening to risk, as its people develop relationships and history.

One example I think could have been part of this list to make the point is Star Wars: The Queen’s Gambit. Strangely, the game does such an amazing job of linking theme and mechanics that it’s gained cult status among board game and Star Wars fans alike, and this is despite the fact that it’s actually not a particularly good game. It just nails that connection so well that it becomes “good” despite its flaws. It nails the point home that when theme and mechanics are synced up, even a mediocre game becomes good.

This is also why thematic games can survive long after the pleasure of recognising the artwork has faded. Star Wars: Destiny and Star Wars: Unlimited approach the licence through another design tradition entirely, but the same tension remains: familiar characters can attract us to the table, while the system has to give them something meaningful to do once they arrive. Theme is not the presence of Luke Skywalker. Theme is the set of pressures that makes a player understand why Luke Skywalker matters here.

That is the difference between Star Wars as decoration and Star Wars as a rules engine. A TIE fighter is a miniature; uncertainty and speed make it a dogfighter. A bounty hunter is a portrait; fame, contracts and faction heat make it a career. The Clone Wars is a logo; cascading crises make it a war. When the design gets that translation right, the game stops asking us to admire the galaxy from outside. It makes us obey its logic for a few hours.

And that may be the finest trick a licensed game can pull. The box eventually closes, the miniatures go back into their trays, and somebody spends ten minutes looking for the one token that has somehow migrated under the sofa. But for the length of the game, the rules made the galaxy exist.


About the author

Søren Kamper is the editor of Star Wars: Gaming, an independent site covering the history, design and present-day world of Star Wars video games. He has been writing about Star Wars games since 2009.

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Review: Trials of Maya (2026) By Department Of Lore

Check Out Trials Of Maya Crowdfunder (Gamefound)

I’m a huge League of Legends fan. It’s kind of my secret hobby. I don’t play with anyone I know, I rarely talk about it or write about it, but each season I like to test myself and see how far I can push my official league rank. I’m never particularly good, but I’ve been playing for the better part of a decade, so you could say I’m pretty well-versed and passionate about this genre of gaming.

That’s why when Trials of Maya landed in my lap, a card-driven, MOBA-style tactical tabletop battler trying with all of its heart and soul to capture the excitement of the MOBA genre- to say I’m very excited is a serious understatement.

MOBA’s (Multiplayer Online Battle Arenas) like League of Legends are massive e-sports and businesses. Millions of people play and spectate every day; there are major events taking place all over the world all the time that draw huge crowds. So far as video games go, it’s pretty serious.

Reviewing Trials of Maya, however, was always going to be…. complicated.

In a sense, I know too much. I’ve seen too much, and I have way too many opinions about what makes MOBA tick. More importantly, Trials of Maya is a passion project, and I have a tremendous soft spot for those. I love independent publishers willing to pursue a clear vision, take risks, and put something genuinely personal into the world rather than rehashing the same old thing.

Trials of Maya isn’t some marketing-infused product rolling off a faceless corporate assembly line. It’s something a group of gamers dreamed about, struggled with, and eventually found the courage to put into the hands of people like me.

That makes criticism complicated.

I’ve played Trials of Maya. I’ve analyzed it. I’ve written, deleted, and rewritten parts of this review more times than I care to admit. I’ve argued with myself about scores and repeatedly wondered whether I was giving the game too much credit in some places and not enough in others.

Eventually, however, I had to put pen to paper and commit to the words I conjured up… For better or worse, this is my review!

Consider this my disclaimer.

Trials of Maya isn’t simply another game for me to review. It’s someone’s dream made tangible, built around a genre I’m perhaps embarrassingly serious about. It’s passion given form by creators who decided playing games wasn’t enough. They wanted to make one, pour themselves into it, and then take that terrifying leap of faith required to put it into the world and ask the rest of us to judge it.

The Trials of Maya crowdfunder kicks off in about 24 hours as of this writing; one can only imagine the nerves of these creative people who have spent the better part of half a decade working on a project with it all coming down to this one critical do-or-die moment. I have nothing but empathy, compassion, and respect for such bravery.

Unknown to the publishers and designers, however, they accidentally stumbled across a board game reviewer who probably knows more about what MOBA is all about than I imagine the vast majority of people who will review this game. My perspective is, without question, colored and seasoned by a decade-long love affair with this genre.

I lay all this out because I think it’s only fair to really understand who is speaking here. It’s a bit like the difference between a music fan reviewing an album and a musician doing so. These are not the same perspectives.

So with that bit of soul-searching out of the way, let’s talk about Trials of Maya and see if I can find that delicate middle ground between empathy and honesty while offering, dare I say it, the opinion of a MOBA veteran.

Overview

Final Score: christmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_star(4.50 out of 5) Awesome Game!

While artistry is definitely a major vein running to the heart of Trials of Maya, and almost certainly the first thing that will inspire and attract gamers to it, the soul of this game is its tremendous effort to capture the unique playstyle of a MOBA (Multiplayer Online Battle Arena).

And when I say capture it, I don’t mean simply borrow some terminology, throw a few miniatures onto an arena, and call it a MOBA. Trials of Maya goes considerably further than that, and perhaps this is why my attention to detail here might exceed what is really required from a typical board game review.

It begins with the Champions.

There is absolutetly no question where Trials of Maya inspiration comes from; there is a clear and unmistakable historical lineage to the roots of the MOBA genre, in the art, in the theme, in the mechanics, and really in the soul of this game, and nowhere is that more true than when you look at the Champion line-up. If you have a favorite League of Legends or DOTA champion, you will find a Trials of Maya variant. That isn’t mimicry or a lack of originality; it’s understanding and respecting your audience.

Each Champion is a genuinely asymmetric character with unique abilities, passive powers, and, perhaps most importantly, their own customizable collection of cards that drive their actions and define their impact on the battlefield. Champions fall broadly into the sort of familiar combat identities any MOBA veteran will immediately recognize. Tanks, ranged damage dealers, spell slingers, support characters, and various hybrids all have a place here.

The terminology may be slightly different in Trials of Maya, but the language of the genre is unmistakable.

More importantly, choosing a Champion is only the beginning. Your deck can be customized before the battle from the cards available to that Champion, while progression during the game allows you to further develop your character through what amounts to a miniature advancement tree, aka leveling up. The result is that two players sitting down with the same Champion are not necessarily going to approach that Champion in quite the same way.

Deck construction is very simple, each card in the game belongs to either a species or class (or both), and each champion is a member of a species and two classes. All you have to do is match up the symbols, and that card is legal in your deck. This allows for a very broad design space and tons of combinations that you will invent and re-invent a hundred times over. Like MOBA champions in video games, a single champion can wear many hats.

That distinction is important.

My prototype copy of Trials of Maya included four playable Champions, and initially I worried that this simply wouldn’t be enough variety for a game so heavily dependent on asymmetric characters. The version currently being prepared for crowdfunding, however, is considerably larger. The developers are advertising nine Champions, more than 340 cards, several game modes, and support for one to four players. No doubt, much more than that may arise between now and the conclusion of the crowdfunding campaign.

Trials of Maya is being envisioned as an expandable combat system. If the game finds its audience, it’s not difficult to imagine where that road leads.

More Champions. More cards. More combinations. More arenas. More ways to play.

Rome wasn’t built in a day, and while having access to more Champions during this review would certainly have been awesome, I discovered that there was considerably more to explore within those four characters than the number might suggest. The deck customization alone creates an almost intimidating amount of experimentation as you begin discovering different builds, combinations, and approaches to using the same Champion.

Then we have the battlefield itself.

This is the second great pillar of Trials of Maya as a game and arguably where its MOBA credentials become impossible to ignore.

Minions move through the arena. Objectives must be contested. Positioning matters. Movement matters. Timing matters. Team coordination matters.

Heroes shove, pull, strike, maneuver, and unleash special abilities in what is an elaborate and intricate ballet of combat. You are constantly thinking about where you’re standing, where your opponent might move, what your teammate is preparing to do, and whether committing to an attack now is worth exposing yourself to whatever comes next. That is, without question, the very essence of MOBA gameplay.

There is a ton of stuff you can do on your turn with any given combination of champion abilities, skills, and cards, but everything is organized and condensed into basic action categories that help streamline the game’s action. Very well tested, practical, and reduced down to the absolute essentials.

This is not a game where the board simply tells you how far away something is.

The arena is part of the weapon, a consideration for your strategy, a critical component of your tactics.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, there is the wonderfully subtle question of balance within all of these choices.

Which Champion do you select? Which cards do you bring? Which cards do you ultimately play into your tableau? How do those choices alter the actions available to you? How much energy do you have to fuel those actions? Which abilities do you develop as the battle progresses? How do you alter your strategy when you realize exactly what the opposing Champion is trying to accomplish?

What is going to be effective in battle is also going to depend on the gamemode you are using. A one vs. one siege mode means you only get a single champion on a much tighter field of battle where in a two vs. two siege mode you have two champions with much more space. That, in itself, we found, had a lot of impact on what cards you put in the deck and how you approach the game as a whole. The publisher recently announced a 3 vs. 3 siege mode as well, which is going to have a total of six champions on the battlefield; I can only imagine how different that will make the game. Point is, Trials of Maya is really many different games in one.

This is where Trials of Maya starts becoming less about executing a plan and more about constructing one while someone else is actively trying to dismantle it. Again, the very essence of MOBA gameplay.

All those interactions and mechanics must find a way for this game to be fair, to be balanced; anyone who has ever played a MOBA knows just how impossible such a task is, and replicating this to the tabletop comes with the same challenges.

In a broader sense, Trials of Maya is an explosion of all those nuanced little expectations a MOBA player might reasonably hope to find when opening this monster of a box. Champions. Builds. Abilities. Energy management. Minions. Objectives. Positioning. Combos. Progression. Team fights.

It’s all here.

And that leads me to what I think is one of the easiest and perhaps most relevant conclusions I will make anywhere in this review, and I can make it here and now in the overview.

Regardless of whether it ultimately succeeds or fails as an entertaining board game for the masses or for your local gaming crew, Trials of Maya captures everything that makes MOBAs addictive and brings it roaring to the tabletop.

Trials of Maya captures everything that makes MOBAs addictive and brings it roaring to the tabletop.

There are no cheap tricks here. No vague abstractions designed to convince you that something sort of resembles a MOBA if you squint hard enough.

Trials of Maya understands the assignment. It wants to be a tabletop MOBA game, and it nails that with resounding success. Hands down the best tabletop version of a MOBA game I have played.

The considerably more difficult question, and ultimately the one we are here to answer, is whether all of those wonderfully recreated MOBA concepts actually combine to make a great board game that will resonate with the boardgaming community that may not be familiar with the genre, its history, and its niche nuances. What happens when you play Trials of Maya without all that history and passion for the genre?

It’s here that I am going to start stumbling over my carefully chosen words, searching for some honesty and truth amidst my own self-imposed compromises as a fan who desperately wants this project to succeed because I am indeed a huge MOBA fan.

One final point before we descend into that particular abyss.

There is actually considerably more game in the box than what I am going to cover in this review. Trials of Maya currently advertises several different game modes and supports everything from solo play to team battles and free-for-alls, it endeavors to be much more than just a MOBA. I directed and mostly focused my experience on trying to understand this game to answer my specific question that was most relevant to what I wanted to get out of this game.

How well does this game capture the MOBA genre…?

The original MOBA game concepts can trace their lineage all the way back to the late 90’s with games like Aeon of Strife and Defense of the Ancients, originally mods to other games. Since then, the concept has evolved and splintered in various ways, creating many sub-genres and unique takes on the genre. Suffice it to say, what is and isn’t a MOBA concept could be a matter of debate, but I don’t think anyone who plays Trials of Maya and has been involved in any MOBA during any era of play will have any trouble making the connection here.

That was the experience I wanted from Trials of Maya, so that is where I spent the overwhelming majority of my time. I dipped my toes into some of the other modes, but Trials of Maya is a very big game that already took many plays to properly evaluate, and this review is going to be a monster based purely on the experience with that core gameplay, the competitive MOBA-inspired game. Diving too far beyond that would make this already insanely long review unreadable.

Hopefully that paints a sufficient picture of the battlefield.

Now let’s go looking for the devil in the details.

Components

Score: christmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_star
Tilt: christmas_starchristmas_star

Pros: Epic box with tons of content and variation, great manual, great design.

Cons: Some components are fiddly and fall over easily.

Before getting into components, there is a vital disclaimer that needs to be planted firmly at the top of this section.

I am reviewing a prototype.

That comes with the very important understanding that these are neither the final components nor, technically speaking, the final version of the game. Judging prototype components as if they were coming out of a finished retail box would not only be unfair; it would be rather pointless.

So I approached this section with a generous eye toward what is clearly a game that will still likely see some development before launch, while trying to remain realistic about what works, what doesn’t, and, perhaps with a side order of amateur advice, what I might do differently.

Let’s start with something that requires no such generosity.

The manuals, rules index, and reference cards are exceptional.

In fact, what I received with this prototype is already far beyond what I have seen accompanying plenty of finished and released crowdfunded games. Trials of Maya is a fairly complex game with a substantial vocabulary of rules, abilities, interactions, and exceptions, and having good documentation is not simply a luxury here. It’s essential.

Thankfully, the designers appear to understand that.

The material is well-organized, easy to navigate, and enormously helpful both while learning the game and when hunting down some obscure interaction in the middle of a battle. This is exactly the sort of attention to detail that more complex games desperately need and so often fail to receive.

Excellent work.

While I think the rules are well written and the rulebook laid out beautifully, I don’t think reading the rules is going to give you a clear picture of what it’s like to play Trials of Maya. There is a lot of subtle nuance; the experience of playing the game and reading the game have a much wider gap than most games. In fact, even the first introductory game you play of Trials of Maya is not very representative of the full experience.

The cards, arguably the most important physical component in Trials of Maya, are equally impressive.

You are going to handle these things constantly, and thankfully they are exceptionally well designed. The iconography is clean, the language is generally clear, and there is an intuitive simplicity to their layout that makes processing information surprisingly easy given how much is actually going on. I can’t speak to the final quality of the stock, as my cards were clearly prototype quality. I expect the stock quality will be much higher in the final product.

My only request comes courtesy of this old hound dog’s increasingly questionable eyesight.

Bigger text, please.

The anatomy of cards speaks volumes to just how wildly different each card can be and the weight of any given card’s impact on the game. A card like Whirling Weights has far more implications for the game than you will discover the first few times you play. Once you get going and really dive into the many effects and stats represented by the iconography of cards, you will find yourself debating benefits and drawbacks of each card in the game obsessively. Suffice to say there are no bad cards; everything is situational.

The player boards are another standout and, frankly, already look final-product worthy to me. They are beautifully designed, wonderfully functional, and do an excellent job of organizing what could otherwise become a fairly intimidating amount of information. Cards, abilities, upgrades, and resources all have their place, and you can evaluate the state of your Champion surprisingly quickly with a glance across the table.

The main battlefield boards are similarly attractive and functional, though this is one place where I would make a change.

I would make them bigger.

Not dramatically bigger, perhaps ten to twenty percent, but enough to give everything a little more room to breathe. Alternatively, some of the components that go on the board could be made smaller.

Trials of Maya can become a crowded game. Champions, minions, health chips, objectives, and various other pieces begin occupying the battlefield and eventually obscure some of the information printed underneath them. This matters because the terrain itself is mechanically important. Higher ground, lower ground, zones, spikes, and other battlefield features added during combat can influence your decisions.

At the start of the game, the battlefield is neatly organized, but once you start moving stuff around, using cards and abilities, this battlefield will get very chaotic and very tight. As big as the battlefield is at first glance, it becomes increasingly more difficult to see it with all the stuff you are going to put into play.

In our plays, we regularly found ourselves lifting miniatures and stacks of health chips simply to answer the question, “What am I actually standing on?” It reminded me a bit of historical war game chits where you are constantly having to handle them not to move them, but to move them out of the way to see important information underneath them.

It’s a minor nuisance rather than a serious problem, but more real estate would improve both usability and readability considerably.

Then we have the miniatures.

These are either exceptional board game pieces or merely fair miniatures, depending entirely on which ruler you use to measure them.

As a miniature wargamer myself, I’m probably a little spoiled. Put these next to the increasingly absurd quality of modern dedicated miniature games, and they are not going to win that beauty contest.

That, however, is hardly a fair comparison.

Measured as board game components, they are way above and beyond what is necessary. The sculpts have plenty of character, they look great on the battlefield, and they give Trials Of Maya the physical presence a game like this absolutely needs. With a little green stuff, some cleanup, and an experienced painting hand, I see no reason why these couldn’t become very respectable painted miniatures.

These are exceptionally nice board game pieces, but miniature wargamers will not be impressed. That is not a fair criticism; in fact, I consider it a compliment in a sense that we are even making the comparison. It illustrates how high the production quality is and how far Trials of Maya pushes it. That you can actually draw a comparison at all with a straight face speaks volumes of the effort here.

There are a couple of problem areas in Trials of Maya.

I point these out cautiously and primarily in the interest of due diligence. More importantly, the designer and publisher are already aware of these particular criticisms and have indicated that they intend to address them before release. For posterity, they must be mentioned.

The first are the poker-style chips used to track the health of minions.

The prototype uses very light plastic chips that simply don’t stack particularly well. They topple over easily, and when several units are running around with towers of health underneath them, one poorly placed hand can suddenly turn the battlefield into an archaeological excavation.

Perhaps this is less of a problem for people who don’t possess my clumsy fat fingers, but I found it genuinely disruptive.

Smaller and heavier replacements would solve the problem immediately.

The spawn points and upgrade points have a similar prototype quirk. These tall standees are somewhat top-heavy, and the suction cup-style bases on my prototype did not always grip the battlefield particularly well. As a result, they were regularly knocked over, especially since their height means you are frequently reaching around or over them to manipulate units.

Again, this feels very much like a prototype problem rather than a design problem, and one the developers are already aware of.

Beyond those issues, Trials of Maya contains a small mountain of tokens, markers, cardboard pieces, and plastic components used to track its various systems. These were all of good quality in my prototype, clearly designed and thoughtfully implemented.

No complaints there.

Finally, I would be remiss not to talk about the art.

Good lord, this is a beautiful game.

Trials of Maya is absolutely drowning in artwork, and so much of it is exceptional. When the entire game is laid out across the table, Champions standing on this strange crimson battlefield surrounded by cards, boards, and wonderfully illustrated components, it has an unmistakable presence.

It looks like Trials of Maya.

That may sound like a strange compliment, but in a hobby filled with thousands of games fighting for our attention, developing a visual identity that is immediately recognizable is no small accomplishment.

You can say whatever you like about the game’s almost fanatical commitment to the color red, but this is clearly an artistic choice and one I can only nod toward in appreciation. I am certainly not qualified to dissect the finer points of artistic theory, but I know when something catches my eye.

Trials of Maya is eye candy to the ninth degree.

More importantly, given everything I have said about this being a passion project, the artwork may be the place where that passion is most visible. There is an enormous amount of original art here, and it gives the game a sense of identity and authorship that feels increasingly precious in our modern age of AI-generated imagery.

And since that question inevitably comes up these days, I checked; I found no evidence that AI-generated artwork was used to create Trials of Maya.

I don’t doubt that Trials of Maya will inevitably be accused of using AI-generated art; at this point, pretty much all games are. Arguably, it’s becoming more and more difficult to spot the difference, but the publisher did release a lot of footage of their team working, and you can see artwork from Trials of Maya in different stages. If this is AI art, you got me fooled.

Whatever criticisms I ultimately level at this game elsewhere in this review, its artists should be immensely proud of what they have created here.

Taken together, the components in my prototype are already exceptional in many places and very promising in others. There are a few rough edges, certainly, but they are exactly the sort of rough edges I would expect to find in a prototype and, importantly, the developers already appear to be sanding them down.

If the final production improves just a little bit on what I have sitting in front of me, I suspect Trials of Maya is going to be one hell of a box to open for fans.

Theme

Score: christmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_star
Tilt: christmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_star

Pros: Master Class is capturing a video game genre in a board game.  Awesome setting, fantastic art.

Cons: Its dedication to the color red some might find excessive.

Trials of Maya is actually only one piece of a much larger narrative universe called Maya, a setting that was developed well before this particular game arrived on my table.

There is already a novel, notably included as part of my prototype package, with ambitions for the universe extending into other mediums including graphic novels and even a proposed film.

I have to admit I have not read the book yet and I do feel guilty about it, but I have not worked on anything but preparing for the Trials of Maya review for nearly 3 weeks, and just about every free moment I have had to dedicate to gamersdungeon.net has been swallowed whole by the effort. I do, however, look forward to reading it, I love it when games put this much effort into their lore.

That’s important because there is considerably more to Maya as a setting than you’re ever going to discover simply by playing the board game.

The world of Neh has some immediately recognizable science-fantasy elements, perhaps most notably some similarities to Avatar’s Pandora. At the heart of this civilization are the enormous Maya trees, a biological network to which billions of people can tether themselves and enter elaborate simulations and experiences.

One such experience is the Trials.

Within the fiction, people can embody legendary Champions and enter simulated arenas where they fight, compete, and test themselves in battle. Looming behind all of this are the Divyas, immensely powerful, almost godlike rulers who use the Maya network to observe humanity, predict behavior, and subtly influence society itself.

There’s considerably more going on here, and I suspect that is exactly why the novel was included with the game. Trials of Maya isn’t merely trying to give you enough flavor text to justify why miniatures are beating the snot out of each other. It wants to trigger curiosity about the larger universe behind the game.

For the purposes of this review, however, we can boil the premise down to something considerably simpler.

The Trials are simulations in which legendary Champions are tested in battle.

That explains the fiction.

I would argue, however, despite a wonderful effort to provide us with a great setting for the game, that it isn’t actually the most important part of the theme of the game.

The real thematic achievement of Trials of Maya is its attempt to replicate the experience and, perhaps more importantly, the culture of classic competitive video game genres, most notably the MOBA.

There are other influences here as well. Across its various modes, you can see echoes of tactical games like Fantasy Tactics and different variations on the arena battle concept, including the glorious chaos League of Legends players will recognize from the ARAM game mode.

Of all the various nuanced MOBA concepts built into Trials of Maya I think from a game mode perspective, the closest comparison I can think of in the genre would be the ARAM mode in League of Legends. It too has a single lane where teams are just trying to push through and destroy their opponent’s base, and you’re always one breakthrough away from collapsing the enemy defenses.

It is the MOBA elements that beat loudest at the heart of the game.

What impressed me is just how specifically identifiable these influences are while playing. Trials of Maya doesn’t simply tell you that it is inspired by MOBAs. You can identify the lineage through the decisions you make, the conversations you have, and eventually even the arguments you get into with the people sitting around the table.

That, to me, is what good theme actually does and means. It says something about the game’s appeal to a specific fandom and community.

There should be a clear connection between what a game claims to be about and what you actually spend your time doing.

What is the game about? How is the game about that?

Trials of Maya has remarkably good answers to both questions.

It achieves this connection in several ways. The first and most obvious is the art.

The visual presentation is immediately reminiscent of the elaborate and often rather bizarre fantasy artwork we have grown accustomed to seeing in games like League of Legends and DOTA. This goes beyond simple mimicry. There is a deliberate attempt to create an unconscious visual connection for anyone familiar with the genre. Again, the artists are speaking directly to the fans.

You look at these Champions and instinctively understand what sort of world they belong to.

I love making these comparisons; it just feels good to know that there is this clean connection to the heart of the genre in Trials of Maya. Here is Trials of Maya’s Naag compared to League of Legends Cassiopeia. They are both fast-moving mages that poison you. Mimicry is the greatest form of flattery; I love it!

The second and considerably more important connection is the Champions themselves.

Champions in Trials of Maya have a tremendous amount of complexity and diversity in their builds, and this is where I think the game captures something considerably more subtle about MOBA culture.

You are going to have opinions about these Champions. Strong opinions.

You’re going to dissect their advantages and weaknesses. You’re going to discover combinations that you think are amazing. You’re going to find a favorite. Someone else is going to tell you that your favorite is terrible or declare it overpowered. Someone is going to disagree with you. Round and round we go.

And then you are going to take those arguments to the battlefield and try to settle them.

That is MOBA culture.

The endless discussion about Champions, builds, counters, strategies, and balance isn’t simply something that happens around games like League of Legends and DOTA. It’s part of the experience of being invested in them.

Trials Of Maya understands this, and it actually, in a sense, explains some of the mechanical and gameplay design decisions that might not register with casual board gamers, as they are aimed squarely at lifetime fans of the genre. A potential problem for the game as a product seeking wider appeal, while being a love letter to the fans, the MOBA culture and genre.

Champion builds and Champion strategies aren’t peripheral systems added to give players some customization. They are central to the experience because they create the same analytical obsession that makes the MOBA genre so endlessly fascinating to its fans.

Then we come to perhaps the most ambitious thematic element of all.

Change. Trials of Maya is intended to be a living ruleset in the same way MOBA’s are living designs.

Trials of Maya has very clearly been designed with room to grow. More Champions, more cards, more builds, and more possibilities can be introduced into the system, and every addition has the potential to force players to re-evaluate what they thought they already understood.

Introduce a couple of new cards for a Champion and suddenly an overlooked strategy might become viable. Give an existing Champion access to a new combination and yesterday’s underdog might become tomorrow’s king of the hill.

The meta changes. Again, that is incredibly MOBA. It also speaks to one important question: is this a lifestyle game? We will need to talk about that a bit later, but the short answer is… Yes, I think so.

There is some danger here.

Unlike a PC game, a physical board game can’t simply download a patch on Tuesday morning because the designers discovered that a Champion is winning 78% of their matches.

Once you print a card, that card exists.

There is certainly design space for corrections, replacements, and alternative cards, but expanding Trials of Maya will require careful curation. Too many additions could eventually make the game unwieldy, and poorly considered additions could create balance problems that aren’t nearly as easy to solve on cardboard as they are with a server-side update.

That is a challenge and responsibility the designers will need to manage carefully.

What matters right now is that Trials of Maya hasn’t been designed simply as a MOBA-inspired board game. It has the bones of something more ambitious.

It wants to become a living game. A game you explore. A game you discuss. In a word, a lifestyle game built around fandom of the genre.

A game where you have a favorite Champion and a favorite build. A game where new releases send you back to old Champions to reconsider them. A game where players debate strategies, discover combinations and develop a shared language around how the game should be played.

In other words, Trials Of Maya isn’t merely trying to recreate how a MOBA plays. It’s trying to recreate what it feels like to be invested in one.

There has been a fair amount of criticism about the way the Trials of Maya crowdfunder release has been subdivided into many add-on products. It has an almost collectable game vibe to it. I do understand and mostly agree with the criticism as it creates an unnecessary FOMO environment that might result in many people deciding to not get the base game at all, out of frustration that they won’t be able to get all the champions, cards, and “stuff” that is actually available for the game. Given that the game endeavors to be a lifestyle game, a more steady and condensed release schedule would have been preferable. One big box with everything!

That distinction is incredibly important to the theme and the gameplay.

The fiction gives Trials of Maya its world. The Champions give it personality. The artwork gives it identity. The mechanics give it authenticity. And the expandable nature of the system gives it the potential to develop the sort of constantly evolving conversation that defines the games that inspired it.

Whether Trials of Maya ultimately finds a large enough audience to become that kind of lifestyle game is impossible for me to predict.

But the foundation is absolutely here.

In terms of theme, I think Trials of Maya has nailed the hammer on the head. This is what I would call a near-perfect execution of theme in a board game. It’s uncompromising, for better or worse, targeting a very specific audience and gaming culture. The designers, artists, and writers clearly had a vision of not only what Trials of Maya should look like, but what playing it should feel like.

They brought that vision to the table in exquisite detail. Thematically, Trials of Maya is the gold standard. If you’re going to commit to a theme and playstyle, for example, like making a MOBA game on the tabletop, this is how you do it.

Gameplay

Score: christmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_star
Tilt: christmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_star

Pros: Very streamlined and easy-to-understand rules with a lot of strategic and tactical depth.  Tons of customization.

Cons: Stalemates can form that grind the action into grueling trench warfare that isn’t very exciting.

In Trials of Maya, players have a very simple objective: get across the battlefield and destroy the enemy tower. Straight to the point, no victory points, no fuss, just a target.

Naturally, actually doing that is considerably more complicated.

Between you and that tower are enemy Champions, minions, control points, and, perhaps more specifically, another player trying to do exactly the same thing to you.

This creates the basic rhythm of Trials of Maya. Push forward, establish control, develop your Champion, deploy minions, and look for the opening that lets you finally crack the enemy defenses and take down that tower.

Structurally, it feels remarkably like a MOBA, though the entire game operates on a single battle lane and definitely feels more focused, less broad. This doesn’t take anything away from the feeling that this is, in fact, a MOBA. Instead, it streamlines it a great deal to function as a board game. It’s just a good design philosophy when making board games: get to the heart of it as quickly and efficiently as possible.

Minions, a key resource in the game for both players, begin the game neutral and must first be defeated before they become available as allies you control. This gives the game the feeling of that early MOBA strategy where initially you’re not just charging into a team fight straight out of the gate. You need to build up your strength first.

In our first game, our instinct was to rush into battle and start fighting, but from a strategy stand point their is more finesse required. The first few rounds you really want to build up your strength, get your tableau organized in a planned way, and collect some minions before trying to tower dive and win the game. Engaging the enemy prematurely can be very costly.

As you damage enemy minions, you collect health chips that are used when you deploy allied versions of your minions. More health means they can stay in the fight longer. Just one of several ways you can power up your advantage.

Meanwhile, neutral spawn and purchase points scattered around the battlefield can be captured, allowing your forces to return closer to the action rather than marching all the way from your base when they respawn. Along the way you can complete objectives drawn as cards each round to collect experience points so that you can upgrade your champion.

Experience points can be used to upgrade abilities, skills, and increase health and energy generation. The faster and more efficiently you can complete these objectives, the bigger edge in the match you can garner.

There are several ways you can upgrade your champions during play, but I don’t think this is something you can sort of pre-plan. The circumstances of the battle will determine what you need at any given moment, so it feels very dynamic and responsive. You’re definitely not going to do it the same way each game.

The result is a battlefield increasingly defined by positioning and points of strength. Where you fight matters as much as how and when you fight.

It all works, but the real star of Trials of Maya is, as already mentioned, unquestionably the Champions.

Champions and Cards

I said it in my overview, and I’ll say it again here: this game is about the Champions. As it should be!

Each has a very clear identity built around their statistics, skills, and abilities. You could easily slap familiar MOBA labels on them. Tank, mage, sniper, and so on.

But anyone who has spent enough time playing MOBAs knows those labels are really just starting points.

The fun begins when players start messing with their builds.

Every Champion has a customizable deck that lets you refine, exaggerate, and sometimes bend their intended role. Kshar, for example, is essentially a fast-moving mage, but the right cards can make him considerably more supportive. Equip him differently and he can become far more durable than his basic statistics would suggest.

That’s important because experimenting with builds is a huge part of what makes MOBAs so addictive. Someone discovers a combination. Everyone complains that it’s broken. Someone else figures out how to counter it. Suddenly your group has developed its own little meta.

Trials of Maya gets this. In fact, this might be the single most convincing part of the entire design.

The cards themselves are fantastic. There are attacks, spells, reactions, defensive abilities, utility effects, and Relics that function essentially as equipment. Some reinforce what a Champion already does well, while others allow you to push them in unexpected directions.

Deck construction rules are very reminiscent of a collectable card game; I think most players will agree that you are going to want to have a large pool of cards to maximize your flexibility before the game when constructing decks. This is where that FOMO is really going to kick in; just knowing something exists that you don’t have is going to feel frustrating. The truth, however, is that the base game comes with lots of options to explore.

More importantly, the way those cards enter play creates one of the game’s smartest systems.

Cards are placed into a tableau representing the abilities currently available to your Champion. As new cards enter, existing cards move through the tableau until eventually dropping off the end. When they do, they generate energy.

That creates a wonderfully nasty little dilemma.

You want powerful cards in your tableau because those are the abilities you can actually use. But you also need cards moving through it with good energy values because energy is what allows you to do anything in the first place.

Better yet, finding combinations of cards and getting them to the table at the right time has this awesome delayed pay-off effect, the feeling of a cool strategy coming together.

A card played now might not become energy for several rounds, which means you’re constantly balancing what you need your Champion to do now against what you’re going to need several turns from now.

That’s good stuff, resource management as such is a key tactical consideration for just about everything you do.

Most of this information is also visible to your opponent. I can see your tableau, your energy, and what you’re positioned to generate next round. I might not know exactly what’s sitting in your hand, but I can make a pretty educated assessment of what you’re capable of doing on any given round. This opens the game to clever timing and concentrated strikes that feel tight and responsive to the action on the table. The game isn’t about just splashing everything you’ve got every round; you’re looking for good opportunities.

Trials of Maya is a very deterministic system; there is very little hidden information and no random die rolls or other randomized elements. You have clean visibility of your opponents’ status and the state of the board. You know exactly what you’re working with at any given moment; the only real surprises are the hidden cards a player may spring on you from their hand.

Trials of Maya isn’t asking you to bluff your way through a chaotic card game. It’s asking you to study the battlefield, calculate possibilities, and prepare several turns ahead.

When all of these systems come together, Trials of Maya can be fantastic.

Unfortunately, getting them to come together consistently is also where I ran into my biggest challenge with the game.

The Great Maya Stalemate

I mentioned in my preview that Trials of Maya seemed to have a pacing problem, though I want to rephrase that and say… sometimes. It sometimes has a pacing problem.

After repeated plays, how often and why this happens can vary wildly, and it’s not really something you can always control or identify the exact cause.

What tended to happen in our games was that a front formed somewhere near the middle of the battlefield. Minions respawn quickly, movement is limited, often hampered by opposition, and the map is relatively tight, so eventually both sides crash into each other, and everything grinds to a halt.

You kill my minions. I kill yours. You kill my champion, I kill yours. They come back. We do it again.

There were games where this began to feel like World War I trench warfare. The front moved slightly forward, then slightly backward, bodies piled up everywhere, and yet somehow the actual strategic situation remained almost exactly the same round after round.

The problem isn’t that nothing is happening. Plenty is happening. The problem is that nothing is progressing for extended periods, often spanning many rounds of play.

Video game MOBAs have stalemates too, but there you’re still dodging attacks, firing abilities, farming minions, and constantly repositioning. There is activity even when there is no progress because it’s an action game and you’re smashing buttons like a maniac. Not really so, in a tabletop strategy game

That distinction matters on the tabletop.

In Trials of Maya, an attrition battle can consume four or five or more rounds or, in some of our games, a significant portion of the entire match. Eventually someone cracks the line, and suddenly the game comes alive. Champions break through, big abilities start firing, towers become vulnerable, defenses are hastily put together, and everything begins tumbling toward a conclusion.

Those breakthrough moments are fantastic, and it’s genuinely exciting. It’s where you want to be all the time, and it’s for those moments that you are going to pull this game out. The stalemates can and often are quite dull and repetitive.

This remained true for us across repeated plays, including with four players.

I’ll concede that there may be some deeper tactical answer we simply haven’t discovered; despite my best efforts to play as many games as I could squeeze in, I don’t think even at this point that I’m particularly efficient with it. That’s a good thing, mind you; it means there is more to discover and I still have the urge to bring it out and play.

Maybe experienced Trials of Maya players will eventually learn how to dismantle these situations more effectively.

I’ve been playing games for a few decades, though, and I like to think I’m reasonably clever. If there’s an obvious answer buried somewhere in the system, I couldn’t find it.

The Rhythm of the Game

Ultimately, I had a lot of fun playing Trials of Maya, but it’s important to understand what kind of fun we’re talking about, and I think this is the key to the whole review. It speaks to who this game is for.

This isn’t an explosive action game, nor is this a game you play once and put away. It’s meant to be studied; it’s meant to be replayed, and most importantly, it’s designed with the assumption that you are going to make this a staple of your regular gaming. You’re going to get into it.

I played Aristeia by Corvus Belli late last year, not exactly a MOBA, but it was a battle arena game that shared a lot of DNA with the genre. The most notable thing about that game is that you had this great moderate depth in strategy, but it was also action-packed. In a 3-hour game session, you would easily play 3-4 games, and that gives you an opportunity to try different heroes and different hero builds. It felt quite right.

It’s not that the game is slow, but it’s cerebral and deeply tactical with occasional explosive action sprinkled in. You’re studying the battlefield, managing resources, developing your Champion, and trying to engineer a breakthrough several turns before it actually happens. Not to be confused with “complex”, because while the rules are robust, this is a medium-weight game, but there is a lot to unpack strategically.

Our games generally ran around two and a half to three hours for a short game and considerably longer most of the time. Experience with the game didn’t necessarily make them shorter. As we became better at defending ourselves and understood the systems more clearly, stalemates could actually become harder to break and last a lot longer.

I think if I had one wish for Trials of Maya, it would be that the game was a bit faster and a bit shorter.

Give me a 45 to 60 minute version of this where we finish a match, complain about each other’s ridiculous Champion builds, tweak our decks, reset the battlefield, and immediately go again.

That’s the Trials of Maya I think would shine much, much brighter.

Because the deck construction, Champion development, and counterplay practically beg for repeated matches. I want our group developing a meta. I want someone discovering an obnoxious build that dominates games until the rest of us figure out how to dismantle it.

The current gameplay has a lot of heart, and it’s genuinely good, but I can honestly say that after a three-hour match, nobody was shouting “Again!”

We were putting the game away, not unhappy with our experience, but certainly exhausted by it.

That’s probably my biggest reservation about Trials of Maya.

I really like this game. In fact, I enjoyed the prototype enough that I’m planning to back the crowdfunding campaign when it launches, which probably says more about my feelings than any score I eventually slap on the end of this review.

But Trials of Maya isn’t currently a “Let’s play a round” kind of game.

It’s a “Next Tuesday we’re playing Trials of Maya” kind of game. You need to plan a session, and you know going into it, it’s probably just going to be the one match.

Board gamers know the difference.

There’s a fantastic tactical game here. The Champions work. The cards work. The customization works. Most importantly, Trials of Maya understands why people become obsessed with MOBAs in the first place.

I just want the pacing to catch up.

Make the breakthroughs more frequent. Let the Champions explode onto the battlefield more often. Reduce the time spent grinding against an immovable wall of minions and get us back to those moments when someone pulls off a ridiculous combination, and everyone around the table starts shouting.

Because when a Trials of Maya match breaks out and lets its Champions loose, it really is fantastic.

Replayability and Longevity

Score: christmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_star
Tilt: christmas_star

Pros: For fans of the MOBA genre, the customizable champions and uniquely familiar tactics are going to keep you glued to your seat for hours.

Cons: The game length and pacing are going to be a problem for the impatient.

I’m going to keep this section relatively short because I think the situation is pretty straightforward.

From a pure content and customization perspective, Trials of Maya has tremendous replayability. Between Champion builds, deck construction, different card combinations, and the inevitable strategies and counter strategies that develop between players, there is an enormous amount to explore.

Throw expansions and additional Champions into the mix, and I could easily imagine Trials of Maya becoming a lifestyle game for the right group.

The problem isn’t whether there’s enough game here. It’s whether you’re going to get it to the table enough to discover it.

With a single match potentially consuming most of an evening, Trials of Maya asks for a considerable investment before you move beyond simply learning the game and start truly experimenting with it. It took me many hours and several sessions before I felt like I understood the game well enough to properly assess it.

That’s simultaneously one of its greatest strengths and biggest weaknesses.

There is a lot here. Getting to it takes time.

Perhaps the best comparison I can make is that Trials of Maya is to tabletop MOBAs what Twilight Imperium is to science fiction civilization-building games.

If you play Twilight Imperium once every couple of years, it’s an enormous, complicated game that consumes an entire day. But get a dedicated group together that plays regularly, learns its factions, understands its politics, and develops grudges and strategies between sessions, and it becomes something else entirely. The commitment isn’t an unfortunate side effect of the experience.

The commitment is the main part of the experience.

Twilight Imperium I think, is a great representation in terms of the sort of gaming group you need in order to really get everything out of the design. When you have a dedicated group, TI4 is one of the most amazing gaming experiences you will ever have. The reality however, is that, while I’m aware of this, the fact that I don’t have such a group means we basically never play it. You really need that buy-in, and that might not be so easy. I think Trials of Maya may suffer from that same issue, which doesn’t say anything negative about its quality; it’s just a reality of the sort of game it is.

I think Trials of Maya has some of that same DNA.

Get four players invested in their Champions, tinkering with decks between games, developing strategies, countering each other’s builds, and creating their own little meta, and I think there’s enough depth here for a group to really sink its teeth into and have an amazing experience.

Play it occasionally with different people, and I’m not convinced you’ll ever reach the good stuff.

That’s the strange contradiction at the heart of Trials of Maya’s longevity. Mechanically, its replayability is enormous. Practically, accessing that replayability requires considerably more commitment than most games ask of you.

For the right group, that’s potentially golden. For everyone else, Trials of Maya may simply ask for more time than they’re willing to give it.

Conclusion

Man, I’m happy to finally reach the end of this review. This one took some work.

After all the playing, analyzing, rewriting, second-guessing, and arguing with myself, however, I think there’s really only one thing you need to know about my experience with Trials of Maya.

I’ve already picked out a permanent spot for it on my shelf.

When the finished game arrives, I’m going back in.

Trials of Maya is, to me, an expression of everything I love about this hobby. It’s creative, unusual, ambitious, surprising, and clearly made by people who genuinely love games.

Is it perfect? Absolutely not. I think the pacing needs work, matches run longer than I’d like, and accessing the game’s considerable depth requires a level of commitment that won’t suit every group.

But when Trials of Maya clicks, it really clicks.

If you’re both a MOBA fan and a board gamer, like me, this is an easy recommendation. Trials of Maya understands the genre in a way few tabletop adaptations I’ve played ever have. The Champions, deck building, progression, positioning, and constant search for combinations and counters capture that wonderful MOBA obsession with builds, tactics, and experimentation.

I’ve played quite a few attempts at bringing the MOBA experience to the tabletop over the years. Trials of Maya is one of the best I’ve encountered.

The harder question is how far it can reach beyond that admittedly niche audience. I’m less certain there. It’s a big game asking for a big commitment, built around a very specific style of tactical play. That’s going to make it a tougher sell for some groups.

But maybe that’s okay.

Trials of Maya knows what it wants to be. More importantly, it has the courage to actually be it. It’s worth noting as well that you can play this game with only a single partner, so you don’t need a large group of dedicated players to have a good time with it.

I started this review talking about the difficulty of separating my sympathy for a passion project from my responsibility to actually judge the game sitting in front of me.

Well, I’ve judged it. It earned the spot on my shelf. It’s an epic box.

I say go for it.

First Impressions: Trials of Maya (2026)

Check Out Trials Of Maya Crowdfunder (Gamefound)

When this monster-sized box showed up at my house, I was already pretty amped up by the sales pitch. An expandable, card-driven, MOBA-style game? Hello yes! I love MOBA games; god only knows how many hours I burned playing League of Legends, Heroes of Newerth, and DOTA.

Suffice it to say, this was a concept that spoke to me directly. In fact, it’s the sort of game I have been looking for so desperately that, in the absence of its existence, I tried to create one myself. I’m about as close to a target audience for Trials of Maya as you’re ever going to get.

What is a MOB? It stands for Multiplayer Online Battle Arena, a genre of gaming that involves players (typically 5 vs 5) running unique characters from a large roster all with special and unique abilities fighting on a map over a serious of towers and the ulimtate price, the opponents base camp. First team to blow up their oppossitions base camp wins.

League of Legends in particular for me was THE MOBA to play. Like most MOBA’s, it’s about the Champions first and foremost and all the crazy interaction between all their various powers. This is really what I’m hoping Trials of Maya gets close to as a game.

I should fully disclose before we get going here that this First Impression article is based on a single two-player siege mode game. This is not the review; That we will do later, but I felt, given that the crowdfunding for this one is going live next month, there are probably plenty of people out there looking it up.

Trials of Maya is here… I played it, and it’s time to talk about it.

Opening The Box

This box, and everything in it, feels like more than just a game. It’s a work of art, crafted with a clear focus on turning the simple act of discovering a new board game into a unique visual experience. I knew from the outset this wasn’t going to be just a box opening, and Trials of Maya did not disappoint.

Just the art in this game speaks volumes to the design team’s dedication, though I think this is not only expected, but demanded by MOBA fans. Art in MOBA games is part of the allure, so a board game trying to represent this genre would need to do the legwork. Fortunately, Trials of Maya does indeed pass this trial with flying colors.

Everything here feels as though it was created through the lens of an artist. Personal… designed from the heart. The illustrations, graphic design, components, books, colors, and physical presentation have all been tied together into a single piece of work with a singular vision. Combined, they create the sort of presentation most games don’t even strive for, let alone achieve.

There is an included novel that tells a story from the universe in which the game is set (Just getting into that), offering an inside perspective on the setting and theme. There is striking artwork, and a genuine effort to entice through elaborate, if not sometimes overproduced components. Mind you, I’m working with a prototype here. Even the smallest details seem carefully matched to everything around them, creating a unified whole that comes together almost like a painting.

Every detail in Trials of Maya feels like the result of countless hours of contemplation and creativity. It’s not always successful, but you can’t discount the effort here; this game is someone’s baby boy born from blood, sweat, and tears, that much is clear

To give you one particularly strange and wonderful example, the included novel has a cover that is itself a 3D art piece. The game actually comes with a pair of 3D glasses that reveal the full effect of the cover art.

Why? Why would anyone go through the trouble of doing something like that in a board game?

Supporting a board game with a novel is not unprecedented; in fact, we saw exactly this in Syncanite Foundation I reviewed earlier this year, but I find things like this make me giddy, especially if I’m really into a board game. I love exploring a cool new settings.

I think the answer can be found in the particular sort of nostalgia Trials of Maya is trying to evoke. The rise of MOBAs belongs to a generation of gaming that grew up surrounded by loud colors, experimental visual design, and a fascination with 3D entertainment. Movies, games, and advertising were constantly trying to leap out of the screen at us. Even the bright red glasses themselves fit perfectly into the color palette and visual identity of Trials of Maya.

It is nostalgia expressed through art, a kind of unnecessary cherry on top, but it speaks volumes to the love affair the designer/producers of this game have with it.

3d Movies were a bit of a gimmick, and I’m not sure it panned out quite how Hollywood hoped it would, but I remember it like it was yesterday, and it was pretty awesome!

I don’t think everyone will have the same reaction, but if you grew up during the rise of MOBAs and were deeply immersed in gaming culture at the time, there is something about Trials of Maya that may feel oddly familiar.

Yet for all that familiarity, this is certainly not another game drawing exclusively from the familiar well of Western fantasy. The Tolkien-inspired traditions and Appendix N influences that dominate so much of fantasy gaming are largely absent here.

Instead, Trials of Maya has a striking Indo Asian aesthetic, with characters, clothing, architecture, symbolism, and mythology that appear influenced by Indic and broader Asian artistic and cultural traditions. Combined with its science fantasy elements, it gives the world an identity that feels immediately distinct from anything else you will see out there.

I spend a great deal of time reviewing games, reading about games, and as a side effect reviewing artwork. We get all kinds, but for me personally, I love it when art is both really unique and exceptional, while still comfortable and familiar in a way. This definitely has a League of Legends Wukong feel to it and I love that.

I am going on and on here, but I think that is justified. So much effort has gone into the presentation of Trials of Maya that it deserves to be lingered over.

In a word, Trials of Maya is absolutely gorgeous. We are off to a really great start!

Setup and Components

While Trials of Maya is artistically impressive, we have to put the artistry aside for a moment because even in a First Impressions article, my job is to offer the reader a dose of reality. I don’t want to be all hype and no substance. Anyone interested in this game is going to want a breakdown of the game itself.

Eye candy is eye candy. The game is the game.

There is no question in my mind that in order for a modern, crowdfunded board game to do well, it must indeed be eye-candy. That is the visual advertisement, but in the end, once you get a game to the table, the game lives and dies by its gameplay.

My friend and I set aside half a day to sit down with Trials of Maya and play a one-on-one siege game, one of several game modes the system offers. The Siege Mode is, in effect, the base mode of what we think of as a MOBA game. Towers, minions, lanes of sorts, and the push.

Ahead of his arrival, I read through the rulebook and reference material, trying to get a handle on the game, and got everything set up so that we could dive straight in.

The Rulebook is laid out beautifully with very focused areas and clear language. I have read a lot of rulebooks in my day from independent publishers and crowdfunded games, and universally they are usually so bad they are barely usable; I was very pleasantly surprised that the Trials of Maya dev team did some quality, professional work here. It made a huge difference for our experience with the game.

Now, it’s important to mention for a second time that I’m working with a prototype of Trials of Maya. Keep that firmly in mind as a lens through which to view the following comments.

While the components look fantastic laid out on the table, and much of the physical design is exceptionally well conceived, even during setup I could see that Trials of Maya was going to be a fairly fiddly game.

The hexagonal battlefield is very tight, and there is a lot of stuff that goes onto it, leaving surprisingly little room for fat fingers to maneuver. Setup itself was not particularly complicated, albeit it took about 20 minutes. The physical components, while gorgeous through and through, were something of a mixed bag in the usability department, ranging from fantastic to …meh.

The player boards, for example, are really well thought out. Components fit snugly into designated spaces, and everything is organized in a visually accessible way. It was particularly convenient to be able to look across the table and, with a quick glance, understand the board state of my opponent. Critical to executing the game successfully and being fully informed.

I really loved the character cards; everything is well organized, has a clear purpose… every aspect of the tactile design aces the test, and it looks gorgeous to boot!

The cards were similarly successful. The iconography is relatively simple, and we adjusted to it quickly. Most of the cards we encountered during our game were clear, and whenever something was not immediately obvious, there was handy reference material included with the game that made answers easy to find.

My friends and I have all designed a lot of cards for our games over the years, and this is exactly what you want. Nice looking, clear text, clear iconography, and consistency. This is how you make cards for a card game. Well done!

Some of the physical components in this prototype, however, were clumsy.

Several pieces were easy to knock over and awkward to grab, resulting in quite a few frustrating fumbles during play. The stackable chips in particular, used to track the health of minions, while a good idea conceptually, had a tendency to topple over. The various spawn and upgrade markers had similar problems because they stood upright and were rather top-heavy.

You get a better sense of the board from the side here, but there is a lot of three-dimensional stacking here; those plastic chips are feather light, and even a tiny bump can knock a stack over. Don’t get me wrong, I think using chips to track health of units is clever and looks great, but if you’re going to use chips in a game like this where they get handled a lot, they need to have some weight to them like poker chips.

There was also a more practical issue with the battlefield itself. Many components completely covered the hex they occupied, making it difficult to see symbols or terrain features underneath them. Walls and other important battlefield information could effectively disappear once the board became populated. The board really could have been 20% bigger.

None of this is catastrophic, but in a game built around positioning and tactical information, where you’re constantly moving pieces around, physical usability matters.

There is still time before release to tighten some of these components up and, in fact, the designer has expressed a commitment to doing exactly that. Trials of Maya is clearly in the final stages of production preparation, and I would expect that a number of these details will change before the finished game reaches players.

For that reason, I would not personally count these issues against the game at this stage. This is precisely what prototypes are for.

Still, it’s worth mentioning because there is an important distinction here. A game needs to be both beautiful and easy to use. Trials of Maya has unquestionably nailed the first half of that equation. The prototype suggests there is still some work to be done on the second.

With everything finally set up, however, it was time to dive in.

Both my gaming partner and I were excited; I in particular was holding my breath because I desperately want this game to be good.

Gods! I need a good MOBA tabletop game, let this be the one!

Rules, Mechanics and Gameplay

As one might expect, right out of the gate we fumbled around with the rules and got a few things wrong. This is not particularly unusual with a brand new game, especially one that is a bit more complex and comes from an independent publisher clearly willing to experiment with new mechanics and ideas. I only mention it because the game came with a strong solution.

The rulebook was very well written. Whenever we discovered that we had misunderstood something, we were quickly able to find the answer, correct ourselves, and keep going. The reference booklet and reference cards reinforced this, and before long we were playing without needing to constantly stop and consult the rules.

This is big for me because I find universally that most independent crowdfunders have terrible rulebooks; Trials of Maya succeeded where most people fail, and this is such a critical element of getting off on the right foot with a new game. Big kudos to the design team!

After a couple of rounds, Trials of Maya started to come into focus.

We began to see the strategy, understand the rhythm of the game, and recognize how all of its interconnected systems were supposed to work.

The aha moment had arrived. It was time to get down to the business of crushing each other’s souls! We were itching for the action.

My gaming partner and I were pretty focused during the game, so we did not spend much time discussing our opinions while we played. We were too busy trying to successfully navigate our characters around the battlefield, uncover combinations between cards and abilities, manipulate minions, and control important areas of the board as we fought our way toward each other’s towers.

Because that is essentially the game.

Each round you gain energy from cards that slide off your tableau as well as play new cards. You then spend that energy executing actions from the cards in play in your tableau, moving your character, attacking enemies, and triggering various special abilities. Meanwhile, your character develops and becomes increasingly powerful as you complete objectives and gain XP.

In other words, pretty much exactly what you would expect and I hoped from a MOBA board game.

Very much like actual MOBA’s, pushing forward and controlling the forward position is key to the game. You want to be fighting closer to your opponent’s tower so that when an opportunity opens up you’re within striking distance. As such, controlling neutral spawn points is a major point of contention in the game.

This is a card-driven tactical game about fighting with your character and controlled minions, pushing toward the enemy tower and trying to pull off various gambits and shenanigans as you outmaneuver your opponent.

Each character felt genuinely unique, with clearly defined strengths and weaknesses. Some were fast, some excelled at range, and others were built to stand their ground and absorb punishment. There were only four characters available in this prototype, but it was not difficult to imagine another thirty.

There is no question that Trials of Maya feels infinitely expandable in this area, and I suspect that discovering new characters and learning how to exploit their unique abilities is going to be a big part of the long-term appeal of the game. In fact, like a MOBA, I would expect in groups where the game is played often, META’s will form as they would in League of Legends or DOTA, with homebrew tournament rules undoubtedly forming.

The Trials of Maya prototype came with four characters, each with their own deck of cards, abilities, skills, and stats. Even with just four characters, there is plenty to explore mechanically, but you can see how very obviously, more is better! I haven’t mentioned the quality of the sculpts here, mainly because I find pictures tell the story for the most part. I can say that the miniatures in my box were actually a lot nicer and more detailed than the ones depicted in the marketing material. These are very paint-worthy minis

The customizable card decks add another layer to that potential.

You can essentially create your own version of each character by modifying their deck. We did not experiment with deck construction during our first game, choosing instead to use the recommended starting decks, but halfway through the game I already had strong opinions about which cards I wanted to remove and what sorts of cards I would want to replace them with.

That’s a very good sign.

The potential here is exceptional and, more importantly, I would argue the game is already very fun in its current form. There are several other game modes still to explore, and I strongly suspect that a four-player siege game is going to be considerably more chaotic and exciting than our one-on-one match. Though I am deeply concerned about the game’s length. Our two-player game stretched well into the 3rd hour, and while we were new and a slow first game is understandable, I worry that a 4-player game is going to be a pretty extended affair.

I personally thought Trials of Maya succeeded in bringing the MOBA genre to life on the tabletop, though I would argue it felt a bit slow. Perhaps the most accurate description of the experience came from my gaming partner. At the end of the match, he looked up from the board and uttered a sentence that perfectly encapsulated what both of us were thinking.

“This was a really fun game, but it had some jank.”

I completely agree. That statement, however, requires some explanation.

First, I will remind you once again that this is a First Impressions article about a prototype game. After a single play, I would not feel comfortable being held to account for any definitive conclusions about its finer mechanical details; these are gut instincts firing here. We are going to tackle the depth of this game in the review later after having a few more plays under our belts.

Think of what follows less as criticism and more as an advisory observation from two people who have spent an ungodly amount of time designing and playing prototype games ourselves, desperately trying to get the jank out of our own designs.

It’s experience shining through and, perhaps more importantly, an acknowledgement of just how difficult it is to truly streamline a game.

Jank, for lack of a better term, is what happens when a game is clearly on the right track and has a fundamentally good design, but still has mechanics or physical elements that need refinement. It’s a kind of threshold for a game. It’s when a game is so close to its final version that you can taste it, but there are still little pieces of friction getting between the players and the experience, which can turn a fun game into a frustrating one. Typically and perhaps most commonly, Jank causes games to be longer than they should be.

Jank is the demon every game designer eventually has to tango with, but perhaps more problematically, crowdfunded games are famous for leaving the Jank in on release. Something I’m always weary of.

I think that is exactly where Trials of Maya is in this prototype, and I really hope it’s not too late for the designers to address and fine-tune this game further.

Some of the jank comes from the components themselves, as I have already described. The game is simply a bit too fiddly right now, slowing it down and making it feel a bit clumsy.

These strike me as very solvable problems.

In fact, the next time I play Trials of Maya I will probably just use my clay poker chips for tracking minion health, for example, as a solution to chips toppling over all the time. Clay poker chips are designed to stack, they stay put, they are easy to grab, and they are smaller in diameter. In a game where moving stacks of chips around the battlefield is a constant activity, you want this part to be smooth as silk.

Anyone who has ever played poker with plastic, rather than clay poker chips, will instantly know what I’m talking about when I say light plastic chips do not stack and fall over all the time. It’s why in poker you use heavier, clay chips. I can’t even describe how huge of a difference this would make for Trials of Maya.

There was some mechanical jank as well, though this is where I become much more cautious about drawing conclusions after a single game.

Both my partner and I felt that something about the handling of allied minions was still a little off.

During the game, the neutral minions that begin on the battlefield are quickly converted into allied minions controlled by the players. This part we liked, but we soon discovered that stacks of allied minions die quite quickly and, almost immediately, those same minions begin spawning back onto the battlefield.

The result was a revolving game of attrition where minion deaths primary impact on the game was slowing it to a crawl.

Minions were returning as quickly as we could kill them, you really couldn’t “clear the lane” for those familiar with MOBA terminology. Movement is fairly limited for all but the most mobile characters as it is; the battlefield is extremely tight, and the sequence of play allows minions to spawn at the beginning of a player’s turn and then act during that same turn, often in the same turn they died.

As a result, the board state could collapse and rebuild itself in one swift sequence of actions during the same turn. There is little breathing room, in one turn you achieve success, in the very next it’s all undone, and there is not much you could do about it.

This attrition results in the game being a lot less decisive with really heavy attrition and, as a consequence, a lot longer than I think it needs to be.

Something about that rhythm felt off to both of us.

I definitely want to play Trials of Maya a couple more times before making any stronger judgment about it. There may be, in fact, likely are aspects of the minion system that we simply failed to appreciate during our first game, and I suspect a four-player game could reveal considerably more nuance. Not to mention that the custom deck building I think is going to become a key feature of the game on repeated plays. Even after a single game, I felt quite ready to build my own deck.

We were slicing and dicing minions by the handfuls; they were leaving play and returning at breakneck speeds. It was fun at first, but this attrition really slowed the game down to a crawl and extended its overall playtime quite dramatically.

What I had considerably less trouble forming an opinion about was the card play.

I loved the card powers and the mechanic of sliding cards off your tableau to generate energy. There was a clear strategy and rhythm to it. It quickly became clear that every card had subtle benefits and drawbacks. There were cards I desperately wanted to get into play, while others seemed less useful until some unexpected situation or coordinated combos suddenly transformed them into the most important card in my hand.

That was really fun.

Even better was discovering some of the funky shenanigans possible when certain cards and abilities started interacting.

At one point I suddenly realized that a particular combination of cards in play would allow my character to essentially shoot across the entire battlefield, bypass the enemy forces and make a direct assault on my opponent’s tower.

I caused devastating damage in short order and nearly pulled off a win right then and there. That was the first time the game felt responsive, less about attrition and more about action. And in that moment, Trials of Maya did exactly what I wanted it to do; it felt like I had hoped it would.

I think in a way, the overarching jank in Trials of Maya is that it’s too slow most of the time; when the action exploded like that, it was the first time the game felt really good, and I think that is what this game should be. A quick 30-45 knife fight in a phone booth of moves and counter moves, not a slow strategic game of attrition.

For a moment, it felt like a classic League of Legends tower rush. Like a proper MOBA game, and I think that is precisely what this game should be striving for. MOBA’s are not thinking, strategic games, they are action games that require quick thinking and quick decisions.

First Impression Conclusion

I don’t particularly like writing first impression conclusions.

There is a sort of finality implied by the word conclusion when the reality is that I’m only just beginning to explore Trials of Maya. If there is one thing I have learned from reviewing games over the years, it’s that my opinions can change wildly during that process.

I remember playing Lord of the Rings The Card Game for the first time and absolutely hating it. A year later, it held the number one spot on my Top 10 Best Games of All Time list, a position it would hold for nearly a decade.

Never judge a game by the first time you play it, over the years, I have learned this lesson many times over. From Lord of the Rings, the card game that I hated the first time I played and became one of my all time favorite games, to Eclipse that I hailed as the next coming and now I can’t even stand to look at. All games deserve at least 2-3 plays before you judge (says the game doing a First Impressions article after one play!)

I have seen games go the other way too.

The point is that first impressions can be wrong. Sometimes spectacularly so.

After my first game of Trials of Maya, however, there are three things I feel reasonably confident saying.

First, it was fun.

That sounds like an almost insultingly simple observation, but ultimately it is the most important one, and I think the designer would agree; those are magical confidence-building words to the ears of a person who spent half a decade working on a passion project. Trials of Maya is a game I genuinely cannot wait to get back to the table. It’s beautiful, strategic, highly customizable, and filled with possibilities that I have barely begun to explore.

Even with some prototype jank and a few mechanical questions lingering in my mind, when we packed the game away I was already thinking about the next match.

That matters.

Second, I suspect Trials of Maya may be at its best with four players.

Our two-player Siege game occasionally felt a little isolated. With only two heroes running around the much smaller battlefield, it seemed like there was space in the design waiting to be filled. It kind of felt like an introductory game, with depth that simply wasn’t there for us to explore to keep things simple. I’m very curious to see what happens when four heroes are unleashed on the battlefield with custom decks, creating more combinations, more threats, and presumably considerably more chaos.

In fact, before even getting four people together, I’m tempted to try a two-player game in which we each control two heroes just to see how dramatically that changes the experience. I just wonder about the playtime: how long is a 4-player game going to take?

Third, and perhaps most importantly, I think Trials of Maya has layers that we barely touched.

Toward the end of our game, I started catching glimpses of tactical possibilities that simply had not occurred to us during the opening rounds. Movement, positioning, pushing and pulling characters around the battlefield all seemed considerably more important than we initially understood. The relationships between cards, heroes and minions began revealing opportunities for combinations and clever plays that our basic starting decks only hinted at.

Strategy games, especially customizable card games ones usually have a lot of subtle nuance that may not be evident in a first playthrough. I suspect Trials of Maya definitely falls into that category. It definitely requires more exploration.

That is ultimately what excites me most and may also quell my criticisms. Trials of Maya did not leave me feeling like I had figured it out.

It left me feeling like I wanted to figure it out.

Maybe the game is, in fact, much faster once you know what you’re doing. Maybe that feeling of slow-paced attrition was just the impression of a newbie still trying to come to grips with the game’s strategies.

When that enormous box first arrived at my house, Trials of Maya sounded like the sort of game I had been waiting for. An expandable, customizable, card-driven tactical game that attempts to capture the characters, combinations, battlefield positioning, and tower assaults of a MOBA on the tabletop.

After one game, I am not prepared to tell you that Trials of Maya has completely fulfilled that promise.

I am prepared to tell you that I desperately want to play it again.

For a First Impression, I cannot think of a better conclusion than that.

Review: Ninjago: Destiny’s Bounty Adventure

I took a shot at reviewing what really amounts to a proper “kids’ game” by any definition, but more specifically, a game designed exclusively for kids and their parents. Ninjago: Destiny’s Bounty Adventure falls squarely into that category and, by that categorization, needs to be reviewed accordingly.

I say that here and now because I generally review all games by the same standard. I try not to make a lot of exceptions to that rule, but there are two types of games where I think it makes sense to bend it a little: party games, like the recently reviewed Hitster: Battle of the Generations, and kids’ games, like Ninjago.

With that said, there is still a standard you can apply to kids’ games. Plenty of great games work perfectly well for younger players, especially around the 8+ age range that Ninjago is targeting, so there is definitely something to work with here. Being a kids’ game isn’t a free pass.

A good example of a classic kids game is The Game of Life, which to me kind of sets the standard for kids games. Nice art, pretty components, a bit of randomness with a fun theme.

LEGO has made plenty of attempts in the past to blend building LEGO with playing board games, but I would argue that the results have been less than stellar. In fact, most have been pretty forgettable.

There is always hope, however, especially when you’re working with a popular franchise like Ninjago which, I’m told by some of the younger members of the family, is “kind of a big deal.”

In fact, they were the reason I chose to review this game in the first place. They were sort of the target audience I hoped I could reach with it, and ultimately, their reaction was always going to matter more than mine.

One big exception when it comes to LEGO games is Creationary from 2009. I remember getting this for my kids and playing it over and over again. They really nailed it with this one.

Alright, here we go. Let’s take a look at Ninjago: Destiny’s Bounty Adventure.

Overview

Final Score: christmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_star(3.15 out 5) Fun Kids Game 

Ninjago: Destiny’s Bounty Adventure is a cooperative family game in which players control Ninjas from the Ninjago universe with the goal of defending a ship called Destiny’s Bounty from a pirate attack. Players move around the ship fighting pirates, upgrading their Ninjas, and doing some silly stuff like drinking tea and reading comic books, which is something I presume is normal in Ninjago, but admittedly I know very little about this universe.

The premise is simple, easy to establish, and sufficiently exciting when properly voiced in a grim gargle to young kids amped up to play a game that combines two fun activities: Fighting imaginary battles with LEGO people and boardgames.

There are no issues with the sales pitch here. This is a very easy game to get to the table with kids.

When it comes to kids games, it needs to look fun, and Ninjago: Destiny’s Bounty certainly does that very well. The game looks very nice laid out on the table.

One of the big standouts, perhaps unsurprisingly, is how well LEGO knows its audience. I think only people with kids in the 8–10 age group will truly understand this, but no matter how much money you spend on LEGO, in the end, your kids are mostly going to play with the little LEGO people. That is what they want. The rest of the stuff inevitably goes into a box to be forgotten until they get much older and building LEGO becomes a thing again.

LEGO for an 8-year-old is about those little plastic men that you can dress up, equip with cool weapons, and pretend to fight with.

Ninjago gets it and plays full service to this shared mentality.

You’re not asked to build any complex structures or vehicles. What you’re going to do is build your Ninjas, give them cool weapons and equipment and then have fights with them. It’s the literal joy center for LEGO lovers in this age group.

The rules for the game itself are relatively straightforward, though I can’t help but think one big opportunity was missed here mechanically, namely in the way fights are resolved.

LEGO understood the assignment here. This is a game about playing with Ninjago figurines; that is your bread and butter.

There is a cooperative element where Ninjas need to work together to take down enemies, but fights are deterministic. Each Ninja has a “strength,” which is more often than not insufficient to take down an enemy alone, so your teammates have to jump in and help you.

Mechanically, this is fun and encourages cooperation, but the deterministic nature of combat feels like a bit of a misreading of the audience’s desire.

At 8 years old, kids want risk versus reward. They want the unknown. They want, for the most part, to roll dice. This is why games like King of Tokyo are such smash hits with a younger audience: big monster fights with lots of dice, yes please!

What makes this omission particularly strange is that LEGO has a potentially brilliant solution sitting right in front of them. They can create dice out of LEGO with unique faces, faces that could potentially be upgraded and changed because the entire die is basically built out of LEGO.

I’ve seen them do this in other games and I was half-expecting it here.

The deterministic method works fine, but it lacks the excitement and unpredictability you get from a die roll. At 8 years old, randomness and luck are exciting prospects. It’s your turn, you get to roll the die, and everyone watches to see what happens. That’s fun.

Ninjago really could have used one of these as part of the game mechanic.

Making strategic decisions and trying to beat a number by positioning Ninjas accordingly on the board? It’s great for a more strategic experience, but it’s not particularly exciting for an 8-year-old.

Most of the game boils down to running into rooms, discovering what enemies are in there, and trying to beat them as a group. It’s a simple, straightforward, and very easy-to-understand premise. Periodically, you get to upgrade your Ninja and, while I think the game is generally fairly easy to win for an adult, for 8-year-old kids it can actually be pretty difficult.

Which is fine.

Eight-year-old kids love to win, but losing is what gets them to try again and again, so I think a bit of difficulty is a good thing.

There are several different “adventures” included in the game that progressively increase the difficulty. They don’t alter the game in any significant way beyond adding more enemies and the occasional special rule that can make previously successful strategies more difficult.

It works fine as a difficulty progression. When the kids figure out how to beat an adventure too easily, you simply move on to the next one. There are also bonus adventures available online that you can print out, extending the game further.

Altogether, I think Ninjago: Destiny’s Bounty Adventure is a game for kids and their parents, but I think that is about as far as it goes as a game. It’s far too simple to entertain adults on its own.

Besides, the fun of this game isn’t really the game.

It’s the activity of pushing around little LEGO Ninjas, making fighting noises and having a bit of fun being silly with the kids for half an hour before they get bored and bugger off to do the next thing.

And frankly, for a game like this, that’s probably exactly the point.

Components

Score: christmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_star
Tilt: christmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_star

Pros: Great value for LEGO fans, quality components, everything is up to specs.

Cons: Beyond the LEGO miniatures, there is nothing that will wow you.

LEGO is expensive. The obvious statement is obvious, but considering this is both a LEGO product and a board game, at around $45 it’s actually pretty reasonably priced. At least comparatively.

I say this up front because most of what is in this box feels like a carefully considered compromise between cost and value.

The LEGO pieces themselves are the obvious winners of the package. You get four minifigures along with all of their equipment pieces, which comparatively speaking already accounts for a decent chunk of the value in the box.

Then you have the actual board game components, which are all of good quality. There are two boards, several decks of cards and a healthy pile of tokens. Combine all of that with the LEGO pieces and I think you’re getting pretty good value for your money.

The LEGO artwork on the cards is well done, colorful and fun. The cards themselves are very good quality, which is good, because kids are rough with games.

The artwork has that classic LEGO look and connects nicely to the Ninjago theme. It’s colorful, clean and immediately recognizable for what it is. As a whole, the component package is quite good.

There really isn’t much else to say about it.

Nothing in the box blew me away, but nothing disappointed me either. Remove the LEGO branding and you’re looking at about what you would expect from a typically packaged and professionally published board game today.

The LEGO pieces are ultimately what elevate the package, both in terms of presentation and value. They give the game its tactile charm and, considering what LEGO sets cost these days, make the $45 price tag feel surprisingly reasonable.

Theme

Score: christmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_star
Tilt: christmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_star

Pros: Great art, fun theme, and of course LEGO’s!

Cons: There is a bit of a disconnect between the audience’s expectation and the somber way the game plays out.  Not quite the action-packed game it could have been.

I’m not going to feign interest here. Ninjago is a theme I don’t know much about, nor particularly care about. What I can say is that I recognize the excitement surrounding the franchise for a younger audience and, in that regard, I think this game kind of nails it.

The fun of Ninjago is in the characters. Each has a unique style, with their own equipment, weapons and power upgrades, and the game leans heavily into all of that.

Ninjago is a fully original franchise created by LEGO, supported by cartoons, video games, books, comics and a theatrical movie, not to mention a considerable library of LEGO sets.

There is no question about Ninjago’s popularity.

It’s also worth noting that Destiny’s Bounty isn’t some invention created for the board game. This is effectively the flying headquarters of the Ninja team in the lore and has appeared in numerous LEGO sets over the years. Kids who are into this franchise will know exactly what it is.

Having the game take place aboard Destiny’s Bounty is right on theme.

From that perspective, I think Ninjago: Destiny’s Bounty Adventure is pretty spot on. It hits all the beats you would expect out of a game like this. You have the familiar location, the characters, the equipment and, of course, plenty of Ninja fighting.

Ninjago is not some small franchise; this is a major production at this point and very popular. I think they could have gone a lot bigger with this game.

Simply playing with the LEGO is already fun for kids, so the question is whether imposing rules on that experience adds something or gets in the way.

I think that will land differently with different kids, but most kids understand games and the basic premise of winning and losing. Giving their imaginary Ninja battles some structure, objectives and a sense of risk doesn’t really take anything away from the LEGO experience. If anything, it gives everyone around the table a reason to play together rather than simply smashing minifigures into each other.

Quite possibly the biggest challenge with this game will be holding on to all the pieces because, undoubtedly, kids are going to want to break this box out like any other LEGO set and play with it as a toy.

I suspect more than a few copies of Ninjago: Destiny’s Bounty Adventure will eventually be missing a sword, a helmet, or an entire Ninja because someone needed it for a completely unrelated LEGO battle three weeks earlier.

Gameplay

Score: christmas_starchristmas_starchristmas_star
Tilt: christmas_star

Pros: Simple rules, lots of fun ways to upgrade your Ninja with a great focus on teamwork.

Cons: Lacking a bit in the fun factor area, a bit slow and methodical for a game about Ninja fighting.

At the center of Ninjago: Destiny’s Bounty Adventure is a cooperative game in which players must strategically position their Ninjas so that, on any given player’s turn, they can jump in and assist in taking down enemies that inevitably pop up as event cards are drawn.

In a way, the game is a kind of tower defense game, fitting because as you progress you will be able to upgrade your Ninjas and get better at taking down enemies faster, which becomes something of a necessity for success.

On each turn, a player can make a move and activate a clear action, which lets them pick up any benefits in a room as well as fight any enemies there. If other Ninjas are nearby, they can jump in and help with the fight.

The combat mechanic is very simple and deterministic. You take your Ninja’s strength, add the strength of any other Ninjas participating in the fight, and compare the total to the enemies in the room. If you have enough strength to take them down, you remove their token and put it on the victory track.

Each round, however, the enemies move around the board on predetermined paths that eventually lead them to certain areas where they score for the bad guys, forming the serpent, which acts as a sort of timer.

If the players manage to complete the adventure before this timer is filled, they win. Otherwise, they lose.

Along the way, players will get opportunities to upgrade their Ninjas with special gear that can give them a wide range of advantages, from increased strength and movement to special abilities like being able to ignore bad guys and move past them.

I think I would describe this game as pretty basic from a gamer’s perspective. I doubt anyone accustomed to playing strategy games is going to have much trouble crushing this game, even on their first go. For 8 to 10 year olds, however, it might not be so easy, as it does require a bit of planning, positional thinking and anticipation of enemy movement.

It’s strategically simple for a gamer, but perhaps not so obvious for a kid.

There is a puzzle to solve here, this is not going to be something 8-10 year olds are going to find easy to win, which I think is a good thing; it will help with it’s longevity a bit.

To me, this is really the only sensible way to design a game like this, so I don’t see anything wrong with the approach in terms of difficulty or depth. Even if, from my perspective as an adult and a gamer, the experience is very surface level, there is enough here to challenge younger players without overwhelming them.

My issue with the game is really the fun factor.

If you’re going to make a silly LEGO game about Ninjas fighting pirates for kids, I’m not sure “strategy,” per se, should be such a major factor in the gameplay.

The deterministic nature of the game suggests that strategy, tactics and a deeper understanding of the game’s rhythm are how you unravel the puzzle and succeed. That can certainly be its own kind of fun, but with a bunch of 8 year olds sitting around the table looking forward to Ninja fights, it feels a little at odds with the premise, or perhaps more accurately, with the kind of fun the premise promises.

To put it plainly, I think the game should have more luck.

Specifically, and preferably, it should have you throwing some dice.

You want those little moments of anticipation. The cheers when someone rolls exactly what they need, the groans when everything goes horribly wrong and the inevitable “oh no!” when a Ninja completely whiffs an attack. Those are the sorts of moments I expect from a silly LEGO game aimed at kids.

As it stands, Ninjago is a little too somber and calculated for what it’s trying to achieve as a gaming experience.

Don’t get me wrong, I think 8 year olds can absolutely learn a strategy game like this. My experience, however, is that kids are generally more interested in roleplaying their Ninjas and having fun fighting with them than they are in thinking several moves ahead about positioning and tactics. A simple luck based mechanic like rolling a die would have gone a long way toward meeting those expectations.

Beyond the basics, Ninjago does have a really nice tactile element, and I think that elevates the gameplay considerably. It’s fun to move your LEGO Ninjas around Destiny’s Bounty and imagine them leaping into fights, kicking pirates off the ship and coming to each other’s rescue.

The ability to upgrade your Ninja’s with weapons and equipment is the big sales pitch here mechanically. This is what the kids are going to want to do; it’s the most exciting moment in the game when you get to pick your upgrade.

You can almost hear “Kung Fu Fighting” playing in the background as you play this one.

There is a fun game here, and mechanically I think it is pitched at about the right level for its intended audience. I just wish the gameplay embraced the chaotic, energetic spirit of LEGO Ninjas fighting pirates as enthusiastically as the presentation does.

Replayability and Longevity

Score: christmas_starchristmas_star
Tilt: christmas_starchristmas_star

Pros: The LEGO figures will still be fun even if you get bored of the game.

Cons: A bit too slow for kids, a bit too simple for adults.

The mileage on replayability here is going to vary quite a bit. As a board game, Ninjago is very clearly aimed at a younger audience, perhaps with a parent or two joining in, and I think that fairly niche situation is ultimately the only place where the game belongs.

This is not a game you’re going to pull out with your typical hobbyist group, and I can’t imagine many people outside of younger kids having much interest in returning to it.

How long Ninjago entertains those kids, however, is probably going to depend a lot more on how much they enjoy playing with Ninjago figures than how much they enjoy the actual game.

That distinction is important because, as a game, even among a group of kids I think the shelf life here is fairly limited.

There is some variability in how things play out and the upgrades give the Ninjas a sense of progression, but once you’ve figured out the basic rhythms of positioning, cooperation, and dealing with enemies, there isn’t a whole lot more for the game to reveal.

This is not the first Ninjago game, I actually remember this one. A much smaller production, but it had a die, and I think probably this one should have had one as well.

I think the biggest contributing factor is that Ninjago never quite delivers the exciting fun factor its theme suggests. This is a rather somber little strategy game about positioning, and while I think that can entertain, it’s caught in an awkward middle ground. It’s too shallow to hold the attention of most adult gamers for very long, yet perhaps a little too calculated and predictable to generate the kind of excitement that keeps kids demanding another game.

The LEGO pieces themselves may ultimately have more longevity than the game they’re packaged with, and that’s not necessarily a terrible thing. Kids can take the Ninjas out, play with them, incorporate them into their LEGO collections and continue enjoying that part of the product long after the board game has stopped hitting the table.

I don’t think any of this significantly devalues Ninjago: Destiny’s Bounty Adventure as a package, particularly given the reasonable price point, but strictly in the longevity department, I think Ninjago as a game is going to come up a bit short.

Conclusion

Ninjago: Destiny’s Bounty Adventure is a very simple, deterministic game that incorporates a beloved kid-friendly franchise and the always fun hobby of building and playing with LEGO.

It’s a game for kids, and I think that is ultimately all the game set out to be. On those terms, I think it largely succeeds. It’s approachable, easy to teach, offers just enough strategy to get younger players thinking and makes good use of the LEGO pieces and Ninjago theme.

If anything, my disappointment with Ninjago is less about what it is and more about what it could have been.

The biggest thing missing for me is that fun factor sweet spot you’re kind of hoping a LEGO game about Ninjas fighting pirates is going to hit. There aren’t many big moments or exciting outcomes, and the deterministic nature of the game takes some of the wind out of what should be a fairly energetic premise.

A little randomness, some dice chucking and a bit more drama could have created those cheers, groans and ridiculous moments that kids tend to remember after the game is over.

That said, I don’t think Ninjago is a bad game. Quite the contrary, I can easily imagine a few rounds around the table with some wide-eyed kids who love the franchise, moving their Ninjas around Destiny’s Bounty and having a great time doing it. There is charm here, the production is good, the price is reasonable and the game is pitched at an appropriate level for its audience.

I just don’t know that the game itself has enough staying power to become one of those childhood board games that gets pulled off the shelf again and again for years.

Ninjago: Destiny’s Bounty Adventure does what it sets out to do and does it reasonably well. I just wish it had been a little less careful, a little more ambitious and, perhaps most importantly, a little more willing to embrace the wonderfully silly chaos of kids, LEGO and Ninjas.

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