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.
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: (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: Tilt:
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: Tilt:
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: Tilt:
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: Tilt:
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.
Two-player board games have always held a special place in my collection. Partly because they’re simply easier to get to the table, but mostly because the experience feels far more personal. It’s just you and one other player, matching wits across the table without the downtime, debates, or scheduling headaches that often come with larger groups.
There’s also something wonderfully simple about choosing what to play. When only one other person’s preferences matter, finding the right game becomes a whole lot easier.
When I first sat down to write this list, though, I quickly ran into a problem. What exactly is the “best” two-player game?
Is it an epic historical war game? A fast card game? A thinky Euro? A cooperative puzzle? A tactical skirmish? Comparing those games directly felt a bit like arguing whether a Formula One car is better than a mountain bike. They’re built to do completely different things; it was awkward, simply didn’t make sense to me to have one list that jams everything into one place.
So rather than force them into one giant, slightly ridiculous ranking, I decided to organize this list by category.
For each category, I’ll crown my favorite game while also giving you two runner-ups. That way, instead of recommending just ten games, I can introduce you to thirty outstanding two-player experiences, each suited to a different mood, partner, or evening around the table. Hopefully that will be a lot more useful.
Whether you’re looking for a deep strategic duel, a relaxing cooperative adventure, or something you can teach in five minutes, there should be something here for you.
Let’s get to it.
1. Best Casual or Family Game
This is probably the category most hobby gamers find themselves reaching for.
Most of us gamer-gamers own shelves full of heavy Euros, sprawling campaign games, and intricate strategy titles, but the reality is that most people we invite over aren’t hobby gamers. They’re friends, family, neighbours, or colleagues who simply want to sit down and have a good time.
That means the game has to be welcoming and easy to get into.
For me, a great casual two-player game isn’t just easy to learn, it has to be intuitive. A new player should be able to rely on common sense rather than previous experience and still feel like they have a genuine chance of winning. If knowing the deck by heart or memorising opening strategies gives the experienced player an overwhelming advantage, then I don’t think it belongs in this category.
The best family games create close contests regardless of who’s sitting across the table. They let newcomers make sensible decisions, reward good instincts, and leave everyone feeling like they were competitive right until the final score.
Those are exactly the kinds of games I was looking for here.
3. Starship Catan
I have had Starship Catan in my collection for over two decades, and it still see’s play often enough that I just can’t ever see myself getting rid of it.
Poor Starship Catan has largely disappeared into history, overshadowed by the seemingly endless stream of Catan spin-offs that followed. That’s a shame, because in my opinion, it’s still the best two-player Catan game Klaus Teuber ever designed.
It takes the familiar Catan formula and strips away much of the randomness that people often criticize in the original, replacing it with a game that rewards clever planning without ever becoming intimidating. It’s one of those rare games that’s genuinely easy to teach, yet still offers enough meaningful decisions to keep experienced players engaged.
The presentation has aged remarkably well, too. The artwork has that wonderfully optimistic early-2000s science-fiction charm, the production is clean without being cluttered, and the gameplay strikes a lovely balance between competition and accessibility. You’re racing your opponent rather than constantly attacking them, which makes it an excellent choice for playing with spouses, family members, or friends who aren’t looking for a cutthroat experience.
Starship Catan is a pretty game, even by today’s standards, I think, thanks largely to Franz Vohwinkel, an artist whose work you have seen more times than you probably realize because he’s just about everywhere you look.
What really earns Starship Catan its place on this list, though, is how naturally people seem to understand it.
Like the original Catan, it rewards instincts that almost everyone already possesses. You don’t need years of hobby gaming experience or dozens of previous plays to feel competitive. Once the rules are explained, most players immediately understand what they’re trying to accomplish and can start making sensible decisions from the very first turn.
That’s exactly what I look for in a great casual two-player game.
And perhaps the biggest compliment I can give it is this: almost everyone I’ve introduced it to has immediately asked for another game. Twenty-five years after its release, that’s still a pretty impressive achievement that I can say about very few games in my collection.
2. The Duke
The Duke probably belongs in the abstract category, but this game is so approachable and will be so familiar to your casual observer that I had to add it here.
Another older game makes the list, but one that’s still brilliantly clever.
The Duke is often described as chess with a twist. Each player controls a small army of tiles that show their movement directly on the piece. Every time you move one, you flip it over, changing how it moves next turn. The goal is simple: capture your opponent’s Duke (king) piece.
There is a wide range of pieces that do all sorts of clever things, and in that respect it can feel like a far more robust game to onlookers, but you have very few pieces on the board at any given time, so the analysis here is not nearly as broad.
The rules can be taught in minutes, but the strategy runs surprisingly deep. Because most people already understand the basics of chess or checkers, new players immediately feel comfortable and start developing their own tactics from the very first game.
It’s also wonderfully compact, making it an ideal travel game, and most matches are finished in around 15–20 minutes.
Experience certainly helps here, but unlike chess, the learning curve is much shorter. After just a handful of games, new players will already have formed their own strategies and can put up a very respectable fight.
For me, it’s one of the smartest abstract games ever made, and one that deserves far more attention than it gets.
1. Patchwork
One of the easiest games to recommend to everyone, it’s a universal kind of fun.
I don’t imagine this pick will surprise many hobbyists. Patchwork has become the gold standard for introducing people to modern two-player board games, and I think it has earned that reputation for good reason.
The concept is wonderfully simple. You’re building a patchwork quilt by selecting oddly shaped tiles, trying to cover as much of your board as possible while managing your buttons (victory points) and time. The rules can be explained in five minutes, yet every turn presents an interesting little puzzle.
What makes Patchwork so perfect for this category is that success isn’t really based on experience with the game. Instead, it rewards spatial reasoning and problem-solving skills that everyone naturally brings to the table. A veteran may recognize a few patterns, but a first-time player can absolutely outplay an experienced one simply by solving the puzzle better.
I like to describe this game as “Tetris” like, something very easy for everyone to relate to.
Fast, approachable, endlessly replayable, and satisfying every single time, Patchwork remains my go-to recommendation whenever someone asks me for the perfect casual two-player game.
2. Best Hobbyiest Strategy Game
Not every board gamer is a hardcore strategist, but most hobbyists are willing to try just about anything. We bounce between Euros, area control, deck builders, cooperative games, abstracts, you name it. That doesn’t mean every strategy game is going to appeal to everyone, though.
For this category, I wanted games that I think almost any hobby gamer would enjoy, regardless of their particular tastes, simply because of the excellent and inspired game mechanics. These are the games I’d happily recommend to someone with a reasonably established collection because they’re simply excellent designs with broad appeal.
They’re a step up from the family games in the previous category in terms of complexity and challenge. The rules are a little (sometimes a lot) more involved, the decisions a little deeper, and you’ll probably be setting aside the whole evening rather than squeezing in a quick game after dinner. They will also require multiple plays to really get good at them, so they are specifically designed for people who are going to get together more than once.
Think of these as the modern strategy staples of two-player gaming. If you’re serious about the hobby, these are games you should probably experience at least once. As I have many other categories on this list, I have excluded games that I think fit into a tighter, more specific niche.
3. Through The Ages: A New Story of Civilization
Through The Ages is a versatile game that shows up on many of my best-of lists, including best of all time. It is, to me, among the best games the hobby has to offer.
This is definitely one of the heavier games on the list, and while it technically supports up to four players, I firmly believe it’s at its absolute best with two, though an argument can be made for three. With four players, this game really stretches the definition of board game night; it’s just too long.
Through the Ages is a civilization-building game where you’ll guide your nation from antiquity into the modern era, balancing military, culture, science, economy, and politics in a constant struggle to outscore your opponent. There’s an incredible amount of depth here, and it’s the sort of game that demands repeated plays before you truly appreciate all of its nuances.
Through the Ages is a card-driven game, but it’s not a card game. It’s probably closer to an action selection and resource management game; the cards are really a support mechanism.
What keeps me coming back is how dynamic every game feels. Despite its complexity, it never settles into routine. Every civilization develops differently, every draft presents new opportunities, and every opponent forces you to rethink your strategy.
It’s long, competitive, and occasionally downright ruthless, but if you’re looking for a two-player strategy game you can really sink your teeth into with a lot of replayability, Through the Ages is one of the very best in class.
2. The White Castle
White Castle is the new kid on the block, but I’m obsessed; it’s a contender for a 5 out of 5 review, which would make it only the second game to achieve this on gamersdungeon.net in 12 years as of this writing. It’s that good.
The White Castle is one of my favourite discoveries of the past year. While it’s excellent with three or four players, I actually think it’s a fantastic two-player strategy game as well.
This is an incredibly tight Euro where every decision matters. With only 9 (With base game) to 12 (with Matcha expansion) actions over the course of the game, every move feels significant, forcing you to squeeze every possible point out of your strategy. Despite that limited action count, the number of viable approaches is remarkable, making each game feel fresh and rewarding.
I also highly recommend the Matcha expansion. It adds another layer of strategic depth without increasing the rules overhead, making an already brilliant game even better.
The Matcha expansion adds an extra dice bridge and an additional action per turn, while also giving the game tremendous added depth. It’s one of those situations where the game is amazing without an expansion, but doubles down on the goodness with one.
Elegant, challenging, and endlessly satisfying, The White Castle is the kind of game hobbyists can happily play over and over while continuing to discover new strategies. It’s an exceptional design and an easy recommendation for anyone who enjoys deep, thoughtful Euros.
There is a The White Castle: Duel variant that’s designed for two players, but despite the good effort with that one, I still think the multiplayer version is superior as a two-player experience.
1. Star Wars: Rebellion
I know that not “everyone” is a Star Wars fan, but that is a tough pill to swallow for a guy like me who quite literally named his son Luke because of the original trilogy. Saying you’re not a Star Wars fan makes you, at the very least, a suspect individual!
This might seem like an unusual winner because it’s so heavily tied to its theme, in fact, had I not put it here, it would go into the Best Theme category for sure. That said, I get it, if you have absolutely no interest in Star Wars, then one of the other games in this category is probably a better fit.
That said, I’ve always found there’s a huge overlap between board gamers and nerd culture, and Star Wars sits comfortably at the centre of that Venn diagram. So I’m fairly confident this recommendation will resonate with a lot, if not most, people.
The reason Star Wars: Rebellion tops this category is that it succeeds on two fronts.
First, it’s simply an outstanding strategy game. Every session is packed with bluffing, long-term planning, military campaigns, political maneuvering, and difficult decisions. Both factions play completely differently, giving the game incredible replayability and making every match feel like a battle of wits, while remaining a reasonably approachable game.
Everything about Star Wars Rebellion reinforces Star Wars fandom; there is no question that Corey Konieczka is a huge fan; he would not have been able to create this game otherwise.
Second, and this is what elevates it above almost every licensed game ever made, it absolutely nails the theme.
Rebellion doesn’t just use Star Wars artwork; it lets you play the original trilogy. Every objective, every desperate Rebel mission, every Imperial search for the hidden base, and every dramatic space battle feels like it belongs in the films. The connection between the mechanics and the theme is about as close to perfect as I’ve ever seen.
If you’re a Star Wars fan, I honestly think this is a must-own game.
And if you’re not…Well, there’s a decent chance this game might make you one.
3. Best Historical Duel
Historical games, and historical war games in particular, are one of my favourite genres, which made this category surprisingly difficult. Narrowing the list down to just three games was no easy task.
There is one important caveat, though.
I’m not recommending games for experienced historical war gamers. That would be an entirely different list. Instead, I wanted to highlight games that I think any hobby gamer with an interest in history could comfortably dive into without spending six months learning hex-and-counter warfare.
To illustrate what I mean, I firmly believe Empire of the Sun is the greatest two-player historical war game ever designed.
There is no question that Empire Of The Sun is the best historical war game ever made, but to suggest it to anyone but the most dedicated historical war gamer would be madness.
It’s also one of the most complex board games I’ve ever played.
Even seasoned wargamers treat it with a healthy amount of respect, so recommending it to someone who’s merely curious about the genre would be doing them a disservice.
With that in mind, these are the historical duels I’d recommend first. They still deliver the tension, drama, and fascinating decision-making that make historical games so rewarding, but they’re approachable enough that a hobby gamer can jump in without feeling completely overwhelmed.
That’s exactly what this category is about.
3. Twilight Struggle
A classic is a classic for a reason; resistance is futile!
Despite one significant caveat, I think Twilight Struggle remains one of the best entry points into historical war gaming.
That caveat is the learning curve, not so much learning how to play but learning to play reasonably well. This isn’t a game you’re likely to become competitive at after a single play. Deck knowledge is absolutely critical, and it will probably take four or five games before you really begin to understand the subtle timing, strategic positioning, and difficult decisions the game throws at you. Until then, you’re going to get crushed by someone who has played before, and it’s going to happen fast.
Once it clicks, though, it’s exceptional.
Set during the Cold War, Twilight Struggle brilliantly recreates the political tension of the era through card play, influence, and global maneuvering. From the Space Race to proxy wars and diplomatic crises, the historical events feel naturally woven into the gameplay rather than simply pasted on as flavour.
Historical games are about history, so if a particular piece of history doesn’t interest you, a game based on it probably won’t change your mind. This is a great game, but like all historical games, you need to have at least a passing interest in the topic, and admittedly, The Cold War can be a bit dry for some.
It’s a wonderfully tense, deeply strategic design that rewards repeated play without ever feeling repetitive.
More importantly, it also helped popularize one of my favourite genres in board gaming: the card-driven influence control genre.
As it happens… that genre gets its very own category later on this list.
2. Sekigahara: The Unification Of Japan
Block games can be traced all the way back to pre-modern era gaming; In fact, you could argue the first board games ever made were block games like Senet. They are a rather classic format, but the concept is very simple. Block games tend to be relatively light historical war games in general.
I’m a sucker for two things: Japanese history and card-driven games, so Sekigahara was always going to have an uphill battle trying not to impress me.
This brilliant block wargame recreates the struggle to unify Japan using hidden wooden blocks, so you always know your own army but never quite what your opponent has assembled. Think Stratego, but with far more meaningful strategic decisions.
Stratego is a very simple take on the typical historical block game, but it’s a game most of us are at least familiar with in passing, as it’s been on store shelves since the 1940’s. It is, however, very one-dimensional; most block games, including Sekigahara, include elements like supply lines, terrain, and strongholds.
What I love most is that it delivers everything I want from a historical wargame without the intimidating complexity the genre is often known for. There are plenty of deep strategic decisions to explore, but the objective is always clear. You know what you’re trying to achieve; the challenge is figuring out how to do it with incomplete information and a hand of cards that never quite cooperates.
That uncertainty creates constant tension. Every battle is a calculated gamble, every move a bluff, and every commitment of troops carries real consequences.
One thing I really love about this game is that it really rewards repeated plays with the same opponent. Players will come up with gambits and strategies that work, then on the next game when they try the same thing, your opponent will be ready for you. There is a sort of evolution that takes place the more you play with the same person.
It’s certainly a confrontational game, so both players need to enjoy going head-to-head, but if they do, Sekigahara is one of the finest battles of wits I can think of.
1. Tide Of Iron
Historical war games come in many forms, but tactical war games tend to be something historical war gamers are particularly passionate about. You will often see historical war gamers argue about what qualifies and doesn’t qualify as a proper historical war game, even in cases like Tide of Iron, some may not agree that it’s sufficiently “historical”. Ignore nonsense like that; it’s a rabbit hole of stupidity.
It just wouldn’t feel right to have a historical gaming category without World War II making an appearance.
For me, Tide of Iron is the gold standard for introducing players to historical wargaming. It strikes an almost perfect balance between authenticity and accessibility, delivering enough tactical depth and historical flavour to satisfy seasoned wargamers while remaining approachable for hobby gamers taking their first steps into the genre.
That’s an incredibly difficult balance to achieve. Historical accuracy and detailed simulation usually come hand in hand with intimidating rulebooks, but Tide of Iron manages to capture the feel of battlefield tactics without burying players in complexity.
It’s also a fantastic production. The modular maps, miniatures, varied scenarios, and customizable forces make every battle feel different, while just enough dice-driven uncertainty reminds you that no battle plan survives first contact with the enemy. There is no better way to get someone to try this one than to simply show them what it looks like; the game sells itself.
Tide of Irons is a tactical game on the squad level, hailing from the big box era at Fantasy Flight Games. There are a lot of ways to expand your experience, including entire campaign books and expansions as well as many built-in variants for deeper immersion. If you enjoy the game, there is a tremendous amount of exploration available.
Most importantly, though…It’s simply a tremendous amount of fun.
The scenarios are varied, the tactical decisions are meaningful, and the game scales nicely for players of different experience levels. Whether you’re a history buff or someone who’s simply curious about the genre, Tide of Iron is the game I’d put on the table first.
It’s not just a great historical wargame. It’s a great board game, full stop.
4. Best Heavy Euro
For many board gamers, heavy Euros are something of a graduation ceremony. They’re not the games I recommend to someone who’s just discovered the hobby, but sooner or later most hobbyists become curious about what all the fuss is about. That’s usually the point where they take the plunge into heavier strategy games.
These are games that demand your attention. They’re longer, more complex, and packed with meaningful decisions. They often require several plays before you really understand what you’re doing, and a single game can easily occupy an entire evening.
The investment, however, is almost always worth it.
To me, heavy Euros represent some of the finest strategy game design our hobby has to offer. They’re intricate puzzles built around careful planning, efficient resource management, engine building, and long-term strategy. Luck usually takes a back seat, leaving success largely in the hands of the players.
They’re certainly not for everyone, but if you’re ready to dive into the deep end of board gaming, these are some of the very best places to start.
3. A Feast For Odin
This is a pretty complex game with tons of game critical decisions; it’s going to take many plays to get your head around the strategies involved.
While A Feast for Odin shines with three or four players, I actually think it’s just as enjoyable with two, making it an easy choice for this list.
This is the kind of game that feels like the culmination of everything you’ve learned from lighter Euros. Worker placement, resource management, engine building, and the wonderfully satisfying polyomino puzzle of filling your personal board all come together in one enormous Viking adventure.
It’s undeniably a heavy game, but I don’t think it’s overwhelming. The complexity comes from the sheer number of systems working together, rather than any individual rule being particularly difficult. If you’ve played a variety of lighter strategy games before, you’ll recognize many of the mechanics; they’re simply woven together into something much grander.
The amount of “stuff you can do” in this game is so broad that you may very well play the game half a dozen times and never take certain actions available to you.
Yes, it’s a little fiddly, and yes, it asks a lot of its players, but the payoff is immense. Few games offer this much strategic freedom while remaining so consistently rewarding to explore.
It’s a wonderful, thoroughly satisfying, albeit exhausting gaming experience.
2. Tapestry
The lovely thing about Tapestry is that the rules themselves are relatively simple, yet the amount of depth in this game- the sheer volume of possible strategies can be quite overwhelming. It’s a deep well, one I think is worth exploring for any serious gamer.
I should start by saying that I think Tapestry is at its absolute best with three players. That said, the two-player game is excellent and, perhaps more importantly, much faster. It feels less like a territorial struggle and more like a race to build the most efficient civilization.
What makes Tapestry such a great heavy Euro is that the strategic depth far outweighs the rules complexity. The rulebook is surprisingly approachable, yet the game offers an enormous amount of long-term planning, resource optimization, and engine building, not to mention dynamics. It’s an ideal stepping stone for players looking to move into heavier strategy games without first having to learn a hundred pages of rules.
A big part of the game is the ability to anticipate your opponents’ strategies and plan your own, while making sure you’re getting under your opponents’ feet now and then to slow them down. There is a bit of a give and take here that I really like, and this is a lot easier to do when playing Tapestry with two players. The more players you add, the more complex this games strategy becomes.
Experience definitely matters, though. Your scores will improve dramatically as you learn the game, which means newcomers can feel outmatched during their first few plays. Fortunately, almost all of the information is open, making it easy for experienced players to offer advice without spoiling the experience.
Deep, elegant, and remarkably accessible for its weight, Tapestry remains one of my favourite introductions to heavier Euro gaming.
1. Marco Polo II: In The Service Of The Khan
This is a heavy Euro that I think a lot of people passed on mainly because of the subject matter, but I personally think it’s one of the true standouts in the heavy Euro category.
Now we’re talking about serious Euro gaming.
Marco Polo II: In the Service of the Khan is one of the finest economic strategy games I’ve ever played. Building on the award-winning The Voyages of Marco Polo, it expands the original with more strategic variety, greater flexibility, and a simply fantastic production. I genuinely love both games, but if I had to choose one, Marco Polo II gets the nod.
This is one of those rare games that, while you can play it with up to 4 players, is absolutely best as a duel. In fact, I would argue against playing it any other way.
While the game uses dice, don’t let that fool you into thinking luck dominates the experience. Like The Castles of Burgundy or Catan, the dice create interesting constraints rather than determine the winner. The real challenge is adapting your strategy and making the most of the opportunities you’re given.
There is a lot going on in this game, and the fact that it uses dice does give it that “luck” element that I don’t think everyone will appreciate. That said, you’re not going to win this game because you got lucky with the dice; far from it. The dice are just a factor to contend with in the same way Castles of Burgundy, for example, uses dice.
What I admire most, however, is how competitive the game remains regardless of experience. A veteran will usually make better decisions, but new players rarely feel completely outclassed. Scores stay surprisingly close, and every game feels like a genuine contest rather than a lesson in how much more experienced someone else is.
It’s a wonderfully rich strategy game with enormous replayability, and despite being one of the very best heavy Euros I’ve played, I still think it’s criminally underrated on BoardGameGeek. If you’re ready to dive into the deep end of Euro gaming, I wouldn’t necessarily start here, but you definitely want to end up here at some point.
5. Best Themed Games
One of the greatest strengths of board games is something no other medium can quite replicate: the connection between theme and mechanics. A good board game doesn’t just tell you a story, it makes you live it through the decisions you make.
Most hobby gamers would probably agree that theme alone can’t save a bad game. We’ve all played beautifully produced games with incredible artwork that turned out to be mechanically dull. Equally, we’ve played brilliant abstract designs wrapped in themes so forgettable they could have been about almost anything.
The magic happens when the two come together.
When every mechanic reinforces the theme, every decision feels natural, and you stop thinking about rules and simply start playing the role the game asks of you. That’s when good games become great ones.
The following three games all achieve that in spectacular fashion. They don’t just have great themes; they make you feel like you’re living them.
3. Fury Of Dracula
I will grant you that Fury of Dracula is niche, but the connection between theme and mechanics is so strong and so much fun, it’s not going to be a problem for anyone.
Although Fury of Dracula is designed as a one-versus-many game, I honestly think the very best way to experience it is as a two-player duel.
At its heart, this is a wonderfully atmospheric game of cat and mouse. One player controls Dracula as he secretly moves across Europe, leaving a trail of clues behind, while the other commands the famous vampire hunters in a desperate race to track him down before it’s too late. The day-and-night cycle, hidden movement, and constant sense of uncertainty create a level of tension that very few board games can match.
What I love most is how perfectly the mechanics reinforce the theme. Every clue feels significant, every wrong turn feels costly, and every encounter with Dracula becomes a memorable story in its own right.
The thing with Fury of Dracula, that “niche” part, is that you really want someone who knows how to play Dracula really well. The difficulty is sort of set by that player. A poor performance by Dracula can make it feel flat and disappointing. When Dracula is executed well, however, it’s just a box of fun.
I enjoy the multiplayer version, but I find the constant table discussion often gives away too much information to the Dracula player and introduces long stretches of downtime for the vampire hunters. This dulls down the game and results in a lot of the tension escaping through the cracks. In a two-player game, every decision is immediate, every bluff matters, and the psychological battle between hunter and hunted takes centre stage.
It’s tense, cinematic, endlessly replayable, and one of the finest examples of theme and mechanics working together.
I absolutely adore this game. It does not get to the table often enough.
2. Star Trek Fleet Captains
Star Trek Fleet Captains, for fans of Star Trek, would make this my number one pick without any question. When it comes to picking the best themed game, I effectively picked War of the Rings because I’m a Middle-earth fan first, a Star Trek fan second.
Trekkies are a unique breed of nerd. More than any other fanbase I know, they care about the details, the nuance of the shows and movies. Get those wrong, and they’ll let you know about it.
Star Trek has been adapted into dozens of board games over the years, and if I’m being honest, most of them have ranged from forgettable to downright awful.
Star Trek: Fleet Captains is the exception.
Rather than simply wrapping Star Trek artwork around generic mechanics or trying to squeeze the theme into some adaptation of another game, it is designed from the ground up and captures what Star Trek is actually about. Exploration, diplomacy, scientific discovery, dangerous away missions, impossible decisions, and yes, the occasional spectacular space battle. It understands that combat is only one part of the Star Trek experience, that science and utopian philosophy are the main characters.
Normally, when a game uses stock images, especially in franchise games, I consider it a red flag, a short cut indicitive of what the rest of the game will be like, but in Star Trek Fleet Captains, the characters are the stars of the show, and they are so iconic, so memorable, that I think it just works. It’s not a shortcut so much as a bit part of getting you in the mood.
Every ship, captain, and mission feels like it belongs in the universe, and the two expansions only deepen that experience without losing what made the base game special.
If you’re a Star Trek fan, this is THE board game to own.
And while it supports more players, I honestly think it’s at its absolute best as a two-player duel.
1. War Of The Ring
War Of The Ring is so thematic, it borders on an activity more than a game. You are literally rewriting the Trilogy as you play, making your own decisions, your own story branches, and yet it all culminates in everything wonderful you expect from the Lord of the Rings story. I love this game.
War of the Ring is to Lord of the Rings what Star Trek Fleet Captains is to Star Trek. Same boat, different franchise.
This magnificent asymmetrical strategy game doesn’t simply retell Tolkien’s story, it lets you live it. One player commands the Free Peoples, desperately trying to buy enough time for the Fellowship to reach Mount Doom, while the other unleashes the overwhelming military might of Sauron. Every decision reinforces the central theme of the books: hope triumphing against impossible odds.
It’s a complex game, and I’ll happily admit that the rulebook can be intimidating. But there comes a point where flawless execution outweighs complexity, and War of the Ring crosses that line with ease.
I could write an entire thesis on why this game is so amazing, but all you really need to know is that it just bleeds Lord of the Rings from every orifice, and this is more than enough to satisfy a Lord of the Rings fan. It’s Lord of the Rings, in a box.
This isn’t just another licensed game. It’s an experience.
For many fans, it’s practically a hobby in its own right, offering endless opportunities to relive, or rewrite, one of the greatest fantasy stories ever told.
If you’re a Lord of the Rings fan, I honestly can’t recommend a better board game. Accept no substitutes.
6. Best Card-Driven Influence Control
I know this is a strangely specific category. Two things.
First, this is my favourite genre in all of board gaming, so my list, my rules. Indulge me a little here.
Second, I genuinely think this subgenre deserves the attention. There are at least two dozen outstanding two-player card-driven influence games, and narrowing this list down to just three was harder than picking the winners in several of the previous categories. Honestly, this could have been a Top 10 list all by itself.
The genre works so well with two players because it’s built around history’s great rivalries. Whether it’s the Cold War, ancient empires, political struggles, or ideological conflicts, these games are almost always about two opposing forces trying to outmanoeuvre one another through careful planning, clever card play, and long-term positioning rather than outright military conquest. I’ve already snuck in Twilight Struggle in the Best Historical Duel category.
The three games I’ve chosen here represent what I consider the very best the genre has to offer.
That said, they vary enormously in complexity. Some are approachable enough for newcomers, while others demand repeated plays before they truly reveal their brilliance. So while I have a clear winner, the best game for you will depend entirely on how deep you want to dive.
If this genre appeals to you, I’d encourage you to do a little extra research before buying.
3. Washington’s War
It has the look of a very traditional historical war game, and the assumption might be that it’s going to be very complicated, but nothing could be farther from the truth. This game is very light on rules complexity, though it’s quite deep strategically.
Of the three games in this category, Washington’s War is by far the most approachable, making it an excellent introduction to the card-driven influence genre.
Set during the American War of Independence, one player commands the British Empire while the other leads George Washington’s struggling Continental Army. The conflict is beautifully asymmetrical. The British possess overwhelming military strength, while the Americans must survive long enough to build support and ultimately secure French intervention.
The struggle for control of the thirteen colonies creates a wonderfully tense tug-of-war, with influence, positioning, and timing often proving more important than outright military victories.
What makes Washington’s War so appealing is how streamlined it is. Compared to many games in the genre, the rules are refreshingly clean, the number of special exceptions is kept to a minimum, and the card play remains elegant without sacrificing strategic depth.
It’s no surprise that many historical gamers consider it a modern classic. As a spiritual successor to We the People, it refines many of that game’s ideas into a tighter, more accessible package.
Iconic historical leaders are key to the game; they are the movers and shakers that will decide the fate of the war, and this game respects that historical importance through the rules and impact they have on gameplay.
If you’re curious about card-driven influence games but aren’t ready to tackle the heavier titles, Washington’s War is exactly where I’d recommend you begin.
2. Caesar: Rome vs. Gaul
Another cover that has that “historical War Game” look, but the reality is that this is a game I think anyone can learn; in fact, it’s much simpler to get your head around than more popular variants of this mechanic like Twilight Struggle.
Caesar: Rome vs. Gaul is a deeper and more demanding game than Washington’s War, but I still think it’s remarkably approachable for what it is.
The conflict is wonderfully asymmetrical. Caesar commands the disciplined might of the Roman Empire, while the Gauls are little more than scattered tribes desperately trying to resist one of history’s greatest military commanders. Naturally, that means the pressure is on Rome. The Gauls have the advantage of time, difficult terrain, and a defensive position, while Caesar must execute an efficient campaign before the opportunity slips away.
One of the reasons I enjoy introducing this game to new players is that the roles naturally suit different experience levels. A newcomer can take the Gauls, whose strategy is a little more intuitive, while the experienced player tackles the far more demanding challenge of leading Caesar.
War, or perhaps more specifically combat, is a much bigger part in this game than most card-driven influence control games, and it’s a much better game for it.
Despite being a proper wargame, I don’t think it’s any more difficult to learn than many modern heavy Euros. Most of the mechanics are straightforward, and the cards do a fantastic job of bringing the historical figures and events to life while presenting both players with a fascinating strategic puzzle.
Victory for Rome is genuinely difficult, and that’s exactly what makes playing Caesar so rewarding. It’s a bit lopsided, but that is very specifically why I think this game is so good.
1. Imperial Struggle
Imperial Struggle is a pretty complex and deep game, it does favor experience and can be quite unforgiving, but any mistake you make in this game you won’t repeat. There is a natural strategic learning curve here, and you will quickly get your head around it. Just don’t expect to become an expert right away; this game takes many plays to learn to play well.
There isn’t much debate in my mind.
Imperial Struggle is the finest card-driven influence game ever designed, and one of the greatest board games ever made. It currently sits at #2 on my personal Top 20, and I don’t see it moving any time soon.
Set during the century-long global rivalry between Britain and France, the game isn’t simply about military conquest. You’ll compete for influence through diplomacy, economics, colonial expansion, and, when necessary, outright war. Every decision feels like part of a much larger struggle for control of the world.
What elevates Imperial Struggle above almost everything else in the genre is how seamlessly it blends history with gameplay. The mechanics don’t just represent the conflict, they explain it. Before playing this game, I knew surprisingly little about the historical rivalry between these two empires. After dozens of plays and plenty of reading inspired by the game, I’ve come to appreciate just how brilliantly the designers captured this fascinating period of history.
It’s unquestionably a game for experienced players. I wouldn’t recommend it as your first historical game or even your first card-driven influence game.
But it should absolutely be your destination.
I think most look at this map and find it a bit off-putting, even if they appriciate it’s artistic beauty. All of this stuff after a couple of plays, however, will make sense, and by your second or third game you will be able to access the board state at a glance, and that is very specifically because this map is so well made.
Once you’ve worked your way through the genre and finally arrive at Imperial Struggle, you’ll either understand why so many players consider it the benchmark against which every other card-driven influence game is measured or Twilight Struggle will be your favorite game in this genre. There is a reason that the community is split on this, Twilight Struggle is in a sense, the common standard, but if I can be so bold as to say, true aficionados will recognize that Imperial Struggle is the true masterpiece.
7. The People’s Choice
This may be my list, but after so many categories, it only feels fair to let the wider board gaming community have its say as well.
Whether you agree with them or not, there are good reasons these games consistently appear at or near the top of rankings on BoardGameGeek and countless other “best of” lists. They’ve been played by thousands of people, recommended time and time again, and have earned reputations as some of the finest two-player games ever published.
Of course, these rankings change over time. New releases often generate a lot of excitement, and the hobby has a tendency to fall in love with the latest masterpiece before settling into a longer-term consensus.
That’s perfectly fine.
For this category, I’ve combined the community’s favourites while excluding games I’ve already covered elsewhere in this article, along with more niche titles that, while excellent, appeal to a much smaller audience.
These are the games that have achieved something much rarer.
They’re not just critically acclaimed; they’re genuinely popular, widely played, and have become modern classics in the two-player gaming world.
3. Jaipur
I’m not sure I would put this game on any list I would create, but I do appriciate it’s elegant design, straight-to-it gameplay, and fantastic pacing.
Before 7 Wonders Duel, before Patchwork, and before the explosion of dedicated two-player games we enjoy today, there was Jaipur.
Released back in 2009, Jaipur arrived at a time when two-player hobby games were usually long, heavy strategy affairs. Lighter games almost always catered to larger groups, leaving very few options for people simply looking for a fantastic game to play with one other person.
Jaipur changed that.
This wonderfully elegant set-collection game proved that a dedicated two-player game could be quick, approachable, and strategically satisfying without sacrificing depth. It quickly became one of the defining gateway games of the hobby, and for years it was the game almost everyone recommended when someone asked, “What’s the best game for two players?”
In board gaming, a simple-looking game is far more likely to trigger a positive response than a complex-looking one. In particular, a game with pretty but few components does a lot to alleviate that stress casual gamers feel when you open a box.
Although newer titles have inevitably stolen some of the spotlight, Jaipur has quietly endured. Its recent reprint has introduced it to a new generation of players, and it’s still easy to find games on Board Game Arena, a testament to just how timeless the design really is.
To me, Jaipur is one of those games every hobby gamer should experience at least once. Like Catan or Ticket to Ride, it’s become something of a rite of passage.
Nearly two decades later, it’s still one of the finest two-player games ever made.
2. 7 Wonders Duel
7 Wonders Duel is a stone-cold modern classic, of that there is no doubt.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a “Best Two-Player Games” list that didn’t include 7 Wonders Duel. More recently, The Lord of the Rings: Duel for Middle-earth has joined the conversation, but the original remains one of the defining two-player games of the modern era.
When 7 Wonders took the hobby by storm, a dedicated two-player version felt almost inevitable. Remarkably, it wasn’t just a good adaptation; it became a classic in its own right.
It’s a very pretty game; it’s a simple game, yet it’s a strategically deep game. It’s kind of a perfect storm, so I’m not at all surprised by its popularity. The fact that it can be played in under 30 minutes is just a cherry on top.
The game strikes a near-perfect balance between accessibility and depth. The rules are easy to teach, games rarely overstay their welcome, and beneath the elegant drafting system lies a surprising amount of strategic nuance. Whether you’re pursuing science, military dominance, or simply outscoring your opponent, every draft presents meaningful decisions.
More than a decade after its release, 7 Wonders Duel is still a fixture at game nights around the world.
There aren’t many games that can claim that kind of longevity. That’s the mark of a true modern classic, and I agree with it wholeheartedly.
1. Azul
This abstract game from 2017 blew the doors off the board gaming hobby. It’s sitting pretty along with titles like Settlers of Catan and Ticket To Ride in terms of popularity.
While Azul is an outstanding multiplayer game, it loses remarkably little at two players. In fact, it’s become a regular fixture on “Best Two-Player Games” lists, and I completely understand why.
More than just a successful board game, Azul helped define a generation of modern tabletop gaming. Like Settlers of Catan before it, it’s one of those rare titles that escaped the hobby and found its way onto the shelves of mainstream retailers and family homes around the world.
The premise couldn’t be much simpler. Players draft colourful tiles to decorate a palace wall, creating a wonderfully elegant puzzle that can be taught in just a couple of minutes. It’s one of those games that almost anyone can learn, making it a perfect replacement for classic family favourites like UNO or Yahtzee when someone says, “Let’s play a board game.”
I think, when it comes to board games, one universal truth is that people love puzzles.
Despite its simple rules, there’s far more strategy here than first meets the eye. Reading your opponent, timing your drafts, and balancing immediate points against long-term planning creates a game that’s easy to enjoy but difficult to perfect.
Elegant, beautiful, and endlessly replayable, Azul has earned its place as one of the defining modern classics of the hobby, and like all modern classics, there are literally dozens of variants.
8. The Dodo Bird Category
Some games simply go the way of the dodo.
They’re out of print, increasingly difficult to find, and if you do stumble across a copy, there’s a good chance it’ll cost you a small fortune. That makes them difficult to recommend today, at least from a practical standpoint.
But I couldn’t bring myself to leave them off this list.
These are games that, in their prime, would have comfortably earned a place somewhere in the rankings. They’re classics that deserve to be remembered, even if publishers have chosen to let them disappear into history.
Who knows, perhaps one day they’ll return in a shiny new edition.
Until then, these are my favourite extinct two-player masterpieces.
3. Star Wars: The Queen’s Gambit
A franchise game from Avalon Hill is by default a major red flag, but with Queen’s Gambit they really knocked it out of the park.
When The Phantom Menace hit cinemas in 1999, Avalon Hill (under Hasbro) was given the license to produce a board game based on the film. Like most movie tie-ins of the era, expectations were… low.
We couldn’t have been more wrong.
Today, Star Wars: The Queen’s Gambit is one of the rarest and most sought-after modern board games ever produced. If you can even find a copy, expect to pay anywhere between $500 and $1,300 on the secondary market.
The reason is simple: it wasn’t just an impressive production; it was an excellent game.
The Queen’s Gambit recreated all three climactic battles from The Phantom Menace simultaneously. One player commanded the Gungan army against the Trade Federation droids, another led Queen Amidala’s assault on the royal palace, while, towering above it all on a magnificent multi-level board, Darth Maul faced Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi in one of the most iconic lightsaber duels in Star Wars history. While the game could be played multiplayer, it very clearly worksed best as a two-player experience.
The Queen’s Gambit is as much spectacle as it is a game. It’s as much fun to look at as it is to play. Finding a reasonably priced copy of this game is not going to be easy.
Mechanically, it’s surprisingly approachable, but it’s the production that made it unforgettable. Few games have captured the feeling of recreating a movie quite so successfully. Later titles, such as the 2015 edition of Star Wars Risk, borrowed elements of the formula, but none matched the spectacle or table presence of The Queen’s Gambit.
For years, Star Wars fans have hoped for a reprint. While nothing has been officially announced, rumours of a spiritual successor or modern reimagining continue to circulate.
If it ever happens, I’ll be first in line, but don’t get your hopes up!
2. Star Wars: X-Wing
There are a few different editions of this game in terms of rules and releases, but the original, 1st edition Star Wars X-Wing was the best we ever got.
I’m honestly trying not to turn this into a Star Wars list, but some games are simply too good to ignore.
At its peak, Star Wars: X-Wing wasn’t just the best two-player miniatures game on the market, it was arguably one of the best two-player games, period. To this day, I struggle to think of another miniature game that combined accessibility, tactical depth, and cinematic action quite so perfectly.
X-Wing captured the feeling of fast-paced dogfights better than any game before or since. It was simultaneously epic and intimate, with every maneuver dial and every firing arc creating meaningful decisions. In many ways, I never really thought of it as a miniature game; I just thought of it as an exceptionally good game.
A huge part of its success was how approachable it was. The ships came pre-painted, games were played on a compact 3′ x 3′ battlefield, setup took minutes rather than hours, and a competitive collection could be built for roughly the cost of a handful of modern board games. Compared to most miniature systems, it felt refreshingly affordable and easy to get into.
Star Wars dog fighting at it’s best!
During its golden years, X-Wing was an enormous success. Unfortunately, like many collectible miniature games, it eventually became a victim of its own expansion cycle. New releases arrived at an increasingly aggressive pace, balance became more difficult to maintain, and many players felt the focus had shifted from refining the game to continually selling new products. Interest gradually declined, ownership changed hands, and eventually production came to an end. It was, in a way, a victim of its own success, and I would argue corporate greed.
Unlike some of the games in this category, however, X-Wing isn’t impossible to find. Fantasy Flight Games printed enormous quantities of ships over the years, so the second-hand market is still full of them at very reasonable prices.
Officially, though, Star Wars: X-Wing has gone the way of the dodo. And that’s a genuine loss for tabletop gaming.
1. Battlelore
The command and colors system is a lot of fun, but there is no question that this is the definitive variant for me! Although I will say that Battle of Hoth, the latest iteration, is really awesome too and mostly for the same reason.
Richard Borg’s Commands & Colors system has become one of the most successful tabletop wargame engines ever created, spawning adaptations covering everything from the American Civil War to Ancient Rome, Napoleonics, World War II, and even Star Wars.
For fantasy fans, however, there is only one game that truly stands above the rest: BattleLore.
Taking the proven Borg formula and transporting it to the world of Terrinoth was an inspired decision. The familiar command card system remained intact, but the addition of magic, legendary creatures, unique faction abilities, and asymmetrical armies gave BattleLore an identity all of its own. It felt less like a historical simulation and more like a fantasy battlefield where anything could happen.
What made the game truly shine was its range of expansions. New factions, creatures, heroes, and scenarios allowed players to customise the experience in countless ways. Unfortunately, that’s also what makes collecting BattleLore today so painful. The core game is difficult enough to find, but completing a collection now requires a considerable investment on the secondary market.
BattleLore was a lot more unit-focused than other versions of the Command and Color system. The game understood that fantasy monsters needed to be special.
Thankfully, the Commands & Colors system is still alive and well. Games like Star Wars: Battle of Hoth prove that Richard Borg’s design remains as compelling today as ever.
As for BattleLore, I remain optimistic. Unlike other games in this category, this one feels destined for another life.
Here’s hoping someone gives it the reprint it deserves.
9. Best Two-Player Abstract Games
There are already a few abstract games on this list, but by “abstract” I’m talking about games that don’t even pretend to have a theme. These are games that fully embrace the puzzle, strip away the narrative, and rely entirely on clever mechanics and meaningful decisions.
There are a staggering number of abstract two-player games out there. In fact, most pure abstract games are designed specifically for two players, which made this one of the hardest categories to narrow down.
I also think it’s one of the most important categories on the list. While the theme is often what draws hobby gamers in, it can have the opposite effect on people outside the hobby. Asking someone to roleplay a medieval merchant or command an alien invasion isn’t always the easiest sell.
Puzzles, however, are universal.
Abstract games remove that barrier completely. They’re easy to explain, immediately familiar, and appeal to something almost everyone enjoys: solving interesting puzzles. I’ve found they’re often the easiest way to get even the most reluctant non-gamer to sit down at the table, and before long, they’re asking for another game.
3. Hive
Hive is a game, even if you have never played it, that will feel familiar. It has the quintessential “of course something like this exists” thing to it.
While Hive isn’t completely devoid of theme, what’s there exists almost entirely to help identify the different insects and their unique movement. You’re never meant to immerse yourself in the world or tell a story. The theme simply gives the mechanics a memorable face.
At its heart, Hive is a wonderfully elegant abstract game. Each player places insect tiles onto the table, with every piece moving according to its own simple rules. The objective couldn’t be more straightforward: surround your opponent’s Queen Bee before they surround yours.
Despite the simplicity, there’s plenty of room for clever play. Positioning, timing, and anticipating your opponent’s next move are everything. Much like chess, you’re often trying to force a particular response before springing your real plan, although Hive is considerably easier to learn and far less intimidating for newcomers.
It’s compact enough to throw into a backpack, can be played almost anywhere, and takes only a few minutes to teach. That combination of accessibility, portability and strategic depth has made Hive a modern classic.
It may not receive the same attention as some of the bigger names in the hobby, but it’s one of those games I can happily recommend to almost anyone.
2. Onitama
Yes, I hate the shape of this box too, but what is inside is well worth finding an odd place on your game shelf to put this thing.
Very reminiscent of The Duke, which I also love, I don’t feel bad about including both games on this list. They share the same core concept, but each has enough personality to justify its place.
Each player begins with four students and a master on a compact 5×5 board. Rather than every piece having its own movement, players instead share a small pool of movement cards. On your turn, you perform one of the available moves, then pass that card to your opponent and take a new one. It’s an incredibly clever system that ensures the puzzle is constantly evolving throughout the game.
The objective is wonderfully simple. Capture your opponent’s Master or move your own Master into your opponent’s temple.
Like all great abstract games, the rules can be explained in just a few minutes, but mastering the strategy is an entirely different challenge. Every move changes not only the current position but also the options available to both players on future turns, creating an elegant tactical dance where planning ahead is just as important as reacting to what’s in front of you.
Onitama is a kind of modern-day chess, yet oddly enough it feels like an ancient game from China. It’s a thinker, and you can attain a pretty high level of mastery over it.
This is very much a “one more game” kind of experience. Matches are quick, every setup feels different thanks to the randomized movement cards, and it’s the sort of game that quietly keeps finding its way back to the table.
More than a decade after its release, it’s still one of the finest abstract games ever designed, and one that I expect will remain in my collection for many years to come.
1. YINSH
I doubt anyone would ever buy this game on impulse; it’s in the hobby the sort of game that get’s passed around and recommended by gamers to gamers. Which is sad because it really is one of the best abstract games ever made.
Yinsh is part of Kris Burm’s celebrated GIPF Project, a series of abstract games that includes equally strange-sounding titles such as TZAAR, DVONN, ZÈRTZ, LYNGK and, of course, GIPF itself.
I haven’t played every game in the series, so I can’t honestly say how they all compare, but if BoardGameGeek’s rankings are anything to go by, Yinsh is widely regarded as one of the finest. Having played it, I find it hard to disagree, not just in the series but so far as abstract games go in general.
The objective is deceptively simple. Players move rings around the board, leaving markers behind as they travel. Create a line of five markers, and you remove one of your rings from the game. Be the first player to remove three rings, and you win. There are, of course, various shenanigans beyond that, including flipping opponents’ markers.
Explaining the rules is easy. Playing well is another matter entirely.
Yinsh is one of those games that forces your brain to think differently. Every move changes the state of the board, flipping markers, creating new threats and often setting up combinations several turns into the future. It reminds me a little of a more involved Othello or Go in the way every move influences everything around it, yet the puzzle is entirely its own. The strategic possibilities go far deeper than anything I’ve ever been able to master.
It doesn’t look like much, but this game has a very deep level of mastery; it’s a true brain burner. This is a game of pure skill, plain and simple.
For a game with no theme whatsoever, Yinsh also has a wonderful physical presence. The chunky rings, solid components, and clean, minimalist design make it a pleasure to play.
More than twenty years after its release, Yinsh remains one of the premier abstract games ever designed, and I suspect it will still hold that reputation twenty years from now.
10. New Kids On The Block
Thanks to the explosion of board games since the early 2000’s more games are published each year than the year before, so there is never a shortage of new games to try.
Now I consider a game new if it was released in the last 2-3 years, mainly because unless a game is some sort of phenomenon that attracts a lot of attention, it can take that long for a game to get sufficient traction and exposure before you even hear about it, let alone try it.
The following are the three best 2-player games released in the last couple of years.
3. Lord of the Rings: Duel For Middle-Earth
You might assume that this is just 7 Wonders Duel with a Lord of the Rings skin; it is not, and saying that about this game is just willful ignorance.
I already mentioned this game earlier on the list, but I think it’s good enough to deserve a category all of its own.
At its heart, this is clearly built on the foundations of 7 Wonders Duel, but rather than simply applying a Lord of the Rings skin to an existing game, it meaningfully improves the formula.
The familiar drafting remains, but the victory conditions have been reworked to better fit Tolkien’s world. Instead of simply chasing points, players are constantly balancing military control, the Fellowship’s journey to Mount Doom, and the support of Middle-earth’s allies. Every path to victory feels thematic and keeps both players engaged until the very last turn.
For me, this is essentially 7 Wonders Duel 2.0. It takes everything that made the original great, wraps it in one of the greatest fantasy settings ever created, and adds enough new ideas to justify owning both games.
While there is quite a bit going on in this game, the simplicity of the core mechanic maintains it as a casual or newbie-friendly game, much in the way 7 Wonders Duel could be described. It’s just good gaming with a cool theme.
If you pick up the Allies expansion, I think the game gets even better. The unique faction abilities add a welcome layer of asymmetry that makes the Free Peoples and the Shadow feel even more distinct, bringing the theme to life in ways the base game only hints at.
For fans of Tolkien, this is rapidly becoming one of the definitive two-player games, and I wouldn’t be surprised if, ten years from now, it’s remembered even more fondly than the game that inspired it.
2. Dune: War For Arrakis
I don’t doubt its potential, hence its presence on this list, but there are quite a few great interpretations of the Dune universe in board games, many of them are stone-cold classics.
Dune: War for Arrakis sets out to do for Frank Herbert’s universe what War of the Ring did for The Lord of the Rings and Star Wars: Rebellion did for Star Wars. That’s an incredibly ambitious goal, but from what I’ve seen so far, it’s a remarkably successful attempt.
Like those games, War for Arrakis is built around two highly asymmetrical factions battling over the fate of an iconic setting. Event cards bring key moments from the story to the table, action dice drive difficult decisions, and famous units such as the Fremen and the Sardaukar all play exactly the roles you would expect.
I’ve only played it once, so I’m not ready to declare it a masterpiece just yet. A single learning game is rarely enough to fully appreciate something of this size. What I can say is that it immediately gave me the feeling I was hoping for. It felt big, cinematic and unmistakably Dune. That’s often something I can recognise after just one play, and it left me wanting to get it back to the table as soon as possible.
If you’re looking for a great Dune game, Dune: Imperium is still my favourite, especially with three or four players. It’s one of the best worker placement games ever made. War for Arrakis, however, isn’t trying to compete with it. It’s a completely different experience.
In my experience, there are two types of people in the world: people who love Dune and people who hate Dune. I don’t think this game will make you a fan if you’re not already, and if you love Dune, this one is likely going to stick the landing.
This is a game about the war for Arrakis itself. It puts the conflict between House Atreides and House Harkonnen front and centre, delivering the kind of grand, narrative-driven experience that only a dedicated two-player game can provide.
If it continues to impress over repeated plays, I wouldn’t be surprised if it eventually joins the ranks of the genre’s all-time greats.
1. Toy Battle
For anyone active in the hobby of board gaming, seeing Toy Battle on this list should come as no surprise; it’s a phenomenon- this is a game everyone is playing.
With its bright colours, chunky toy soldiers and Saturday morning cartoon presentation, it would be easy to dismiss Toy Battle as a children’s game. I assure you, it’s not.
Toy Battle is one of the smartest two-player games released in years, proving once again that simple rules and deep strategy often make the best combination.
Players deploy units onto the battlefield, each bringing its own unique ability, in an effort to capture the opposing headquarters. The rules can be taught in minutes, but the interaction between unit powers, board positioning and the game’s clever supply line system creates an endlessly fascinating tactical puzzle.
Every decision matters. Commit too early and you leave yourself exposed. Wait too long and your opponent seizes the initiative. It’s one of those rare games where every turn feels important without ever becoming complicated.
Its dominance at the 2025 Golden Geek Awards surprised absolutely nobody. Toy Battle arrived seemingly out of nowhere and immediately established itself as one of the premier two-player games on the market.
Simple to learn, lightning fast to play, yet incredibly rewarding to master, I genuinely believe Toy Battle is well on its way to becoming a modern classic. If people are still talking about it twenty years from now, I won’t be the least bit surprised.
Conclusion and Final Notes
The truth is that I could put this list together 10 times and come up with different games to put into each category, not to mention easily come up with more categories; the goal here isn’t really to make some sort of definitive statement but to expose hobbyists to some games they may or may not have heard of.
To me, a good top 10 list is going to give you a hankering to buy/try something new, and hopefully I have managed that with this list.
I’ve been described by friends as many things over the years, but my personal favorite is “a fully functioning idiot.” Honestly, I think that’s a fairly accurate assessment.
That same quirkiness extends to my taste in board games, which is probably why my enthusiastically recommending a cooperative game about escorting elephants across the African savanna sounds completely out of character.
Generally speaking, I don’t like cooperative games, regardless of theme, but theme is rarely the problem for me.
Why sign up to review a cooperative game if, in general, I don’t like cooperative games? This picture is the answer. I saw this and thought to myself, that is one beautiful game I would like to see in person. The use of color, wonderful components, and amazing art really brings this game to another level. I figured if I end up liking it, it will be an easy game to get to the table.
Even more strangely, when I do like one, it rarely seems to be the ones everyone else loves. I have no explanation for this phenomenon other than the possibility that I’m simply wired differently somehow, or I’m a cooperative gaming hipster. Who knows!?
Take Pandemic, for example, one of the most beloved cooperative games around. I actively dislike it. Pandemic Legacy did nothing to change my opinion; it was just an extended version of the same game with the same problems. Gloomhaven bored me to tears. I still maintain it’s essentially shitty Dungeons & Dragons with all the roleplaying surgically removed, and I never understood the obsession with Clank! either. Its repetative if it’s anything.
Clearly, I’m the problem? Perhaps. Perhaps not.
So why has a cooperative game about herding elephants managed to win me over?
The answer has surprisingly little to do with elephants.
What I enjoy most about cooperative games is genuine adversity. I want a game that repeatedly beats us into the dirt before we finally scrape together a victory through experience, better teamwork, and a little bit of luck. That moment where everyone around the table erupts because you’ve finally solved a puzzle that seemed impossible three games earlier. That’s the magic of cooperative gaming to me and coincidentally, it’s what makes for a good solo game as well.
Which checks out. Among the cooperative games I love, you will find games like Lord of the Rings: The Card Game. An absolutetly brutal and unforgiving deck builder and the lesser-known Peloponnesian War by Mark Herman, a game, if you can win, you should call the designer, he will be impressed! Both are great games to play cooperatively, but for me, these are just fantastic solo games.
Peloponnesian War is a historical war game and technically a solo game. Yet, I found Tembo reminded me of it a bit because it’s this really great puzzle that you have to solve, and I love living inside my head, obsessing about a game that is just absolutetly crushing me as they say “is the juice!”. The Peloponnesian War was the last game I played solo that did that, and it’s exactly what I got out of Tembo, which was really great. I love a good challenge.
Tembo delivers exactly that energy.
I’ve also discovered over the years that there are three things I absolutely cannot stand in cooperative games.
First, I dislike “alpha gamer” designs where one experienced player effectively takes everyone’s turns for them. Pandemic has always been the poster child for this. Once someone at the table knows the optimal strategy, everyone else gradually becomes an unpaid intern carrying out instructions.
Second, I have very little patience for cooperative games that secretly don’t want you to lose. You know the type. They’re less games than guided theme park rides where the illusion of danger is far greater than the actual challenge. If failure requires the combined tactical brilliance of a potato, something has gone wrong.
Finally, I want games that earn their victories.
If my group beats a cooperative game on the first attempt, chances are it wasn’t difficult enough. That’s admittedly a slightly unfair benchmark because the people I regularly play with are seasoned hobby gamers. We tend to solve difficult games faster than most groups. Fate: Defenders of Grimheim is a good example. I genuinely believe it’s an excellent challenge, yet we’ve somehow managed to beat it every single time it’s hit the table on the highest difficulty level.
Tembo is different. I’ve now played it well over a dozen times. I’ve won once. And that’s exactly why I keep coming back.
Even the introductory challenges continue to force me into difficult decisions. Every defeat leaves me convinced there’s a better strategy waiting to be discovered, another approach I haven’t considered, another tiny optimization that might finally tip the scales in my favor.
That’s exciting. That’s the sort of cooperative game I want to play.
Behind the adorable artwork, charming elephants, and wonderfully approachable rules lies a genuinely demanding puzzle, one that’s far cleverer than it first appears.
And for someone who generally doesn’t enjoy cooperative games as a whole, that’s about the highest compliment I can give.
Overview
Final Score: (3.85) Great Strategic Puzzle
The best way I can describe Tembo is as a deceptively simple puzzle that’s constantly trying to outsmart you.
The objective itself couldn’t be more straightforward. You’re guiding a herd of elephants across a randomized savanna, escorting them safely from one side of the map to the other. If all your elephants make it to the destination, you win.
Unfortunately, the game seems to have taken that simplicity as a personal challenge.
The first obstacle is that your herd can’t simply march to the finish line. Along the way, there are six key locations that must be visited before victory is even possible. Every detour costs precious time and resources, forcing you to constantly weigh short-term efficiency against long-term necessity.
Checking off the different locations before you march your elephants to the finish line is the big catch here, but the complexity is tripled down on because you have to manage this little trip around the savanna while avoiding lions and staving off the Matriarch cards.
Then there’s your energy supply.
Energy is brutally limited and slowly drains away as you play certain cards. You can replenish it by visiting certain places scattered around the board, but doing so often requires abandoning the route you actually wanted to take. Ignore your energy, and you’ll eventually grind to a halt. Chase it too aggressively, and you’ll waste so much time that victory slips away anyway.
It’s a wonderfully uncomfortable balancing act. The elephants themselves introduce another layer of complexity.
Your herd must always remain connected, forming an unbroken chain stretching across the landscape. Periodically, you’ll need to play a Matriarch card, relocating the lead elephant somewhere else in that chain before gathering up the rest of the herd and beginning the journey again from that new position. It’s a clever mechanism that constantly forces you to rethink your route instead of simply extending the same line across the board.
As if that wasn’t enough, you’re also building the savanna as you play.
The terrain itself is created by laying down landscape cards, determining not only where your elephants can travel, but also providing the resting places needed to recruit additional elephants into your growing herd.
The game is further complicated by lions that will periodically activate and hunt your elephants, which, when successful, will permanently remove members of your herd and weaken your chances of success.
The lions can absolutetly devastate any attempt at a victory, no matter how brilliant your strategy, they are the big trump card that you must be ready for at all times. In most scenarios, their starting location really determines just how difficult a scenario will be.
Individually, none of these systems are particularly difficult to understand. Collectively, they’re fiendishly difficult to master.
That’s where Tembo really shines.
Every turn feels like you’re solving a Rubik’s Cube where twisting one side somehow rearranges three others. You finally solve your energy problem only to discover you’ve broken your elephant chain. You build the perfect route only to realize you’ve skipped a mandatory objective. You manage to get your chain set up correctly, only to have it cut by a lion attack. Every solution creates two brand-new problems, and somehow that’s exactly what makes the game so satisfying.
For all of those reasons, I absolutely adore Tembo.
Interestingly, though, I don’t think the cooperative aspect is actually its biggest strength.
Don’t misunderstand me, it’s an excellent cooperative game I would recommend to any group of gamers. Sitting around a table with friends trying to untangle this puzzle is hugely rewarding, particularly after several failed attempts. Everyone contributes ideas, everyone spots different opportunities, and those eventual victories feel thoroughly earned.
But for me……the real magic is the solo game.
I’ve been slightly obsessed with Tembo for the better part of two weeks. I’ve replayed the opening challenges more times than I care to admit, and despite losing, well, pretty much always, I keep coming back for “just one more attempt.”
That’s the sign of a great puzzle to me, if it feels like I can’t solve it, that drives me to try over and over again.
Every defeat feels deserved. Every loss convinces me I was only one or two better decisions away from success. Every new game teaches me something I hadn’t noticed before.
I’ve only managed to beat the game a handful of times on the most basic difficulty levels after two weeks of trying. Either I’m stupid, or this game is hard!
Normally, that would frustrate me. Instead, it just makes me want to shuffle the cards and try again.
That’s probably the strongest recommendation I can give. Tembo isn’t simply difficult.
It’s addictively difficult, and for players who enjoy slowly unraveling a beautifully constructed puzzle, I think that’s exactly what makes it special, and it’s the main reason to get into this game.
Components
Score: Tilt:
Pros: Looks great, feels great, is great. Quality publication with an eye for great art.
Cons: You would have to be pretty picky to find a problem here.
Reviewing components has become a slightly strange exercise these days. Twenty years ago, component quality could make or break a game. Today, the industry standard is so consistently high that most productions simply clear the bar. It has almost become a pass-or-fail category rather than a meaningful differentiator.
Tembo is a perfect example of that.
Everything in the box is exactly what you’d hope it would be. The cards are excellent, the modular board tiles are thick and durable, the wooden elephant tokens are charming, and all of the cardboard components feel like they’ll comfortably survive hundreds of plays. Long before the components begin to show any wear, you’ll almost certainly have exhausted the game itself.
The presentation deserves particular praise. Once everything is laid out across the table, Tembo does a wonderful job of evoking the African savanna. The warm color palette, inviting artwork, and clean graphic design all come together to create a game that’s simply pleasant to look at.
Tembo is more than just pretty, its very functional. Good use of iconography, a very well laid out rulebook, and good reference material make learning to play and executing this game that much easier. This is the standard I think all games should meet.
The insert also deserves a quick mention. It’s thoughtfully designed, keeps every component neatly organized, and makes setup and teardown refreshingly painless. It sounds like a small thing, but after wrestling with enough poorly designed inserts over the years, I’ve learned to appreciate the ones that simply do their job.
If I had one criticism, it’s that the production occasionally wanders into the realm of unnecessary spectacle.
The cardboard standees used for trees and location markers certainly look nice on the table, but functionally, they don’t add very much. A simple token or tracker could have communicated the same information while reducing both production costs and setup time. I understand the designers were aiming for immersion, and aesthetically it works, but it also feels like an easy place where the game could have been streamlined without sacrificing the experience.
That’s a relatively minor complaint, though.
Overall, Tembo is a beautiful production. The artwork is gorgeous, the components feel premium without being excessive, and everything has clearly been designed to withstand repeated play. More importantly, the production serves the game rather than distracting from it. The iconography is clear and easy to remember, and there are plenty of cheat sheets and reference material, so you don’t have to go searching through the manual to answer the few questions you might have during play.
In the end, I really don’t have much to complain about.
It’s a polished, attractive package that feels every bit as refined as the gameplay inside.
Theme
Score: Tilt:
Pros: The art sells this theme, and for a strategy puzzle game, the theme comes across surprisingly well.
Cons: This family-friendly theme may result in a disconnect between expectations and reality. It may look like a family game, but this is definitely a complex strategic puzzle that casual gamers will struggle with.
For games that are fundamentally abstract puzzles, theme often takes a back seat to mechanics. Whether you’re moving cubes through a medieval marketplace or elephants across the African savanna, the underlying puzzle usually remains the real attraction.
Tembo is no exception.
I’m a sucker for a pretty game with pretty colors, but at the end of the day Tembo’s theme and eye candy is not the main attraction here; this game lives by the wonderful strategic puzzle it presents, the eye candy is just a cherry on top.
That said, if you’re going to wrap a puzzle in a theme, marching a herd of elephants across the African savanna is a pretty inspired choice.
There’s something immediately calming about it. The artwork evokes the same feeling as a lazy Sunday afternoon watching a wildlife documentary, complete with the soothing narration of Sir David Attenborough gently explaining why the elephants are, once again, making better life decisions than the humans.
The artwork deserves particular praise.
The color palette is absolutely gorgeous. Warm oranges, rich greens, and soft earth tones combine to create a board that is both inviting and unmistakably African safari. Every illustration feels carefully considered, giving the game a personality that’s difficult not to appreciate. It’s one of those games that naturally draws people over to the table simply because it looks so attractive.
The adorable presentation is both one of the game’s greatest strengths and, oddly enough, one of its greatest deceptions.
Everything about Tembo screams “friendly family game.” The rules are straightforward, the elephants are charming, and the presentation couldn’t be more welcoming.
Then the game proceeds to repeatedly crush your spirit.
It’s almost comical how vicious the puzzle hiding beneath those cute illustrations actually is. I can easily imagine families picking this up expecting a relaxed cooperative adventure, only to discover they’ve accidentally signed up for an advanced logistics course run by elephants.
That contrast is strangely endearing.
The theme itself isn’t deeply woven into every mechanism, but it provides enough context that every action makes intuitive sense. You’re exploring the savanna, guiding your herd, managing their energy, and carefully navigating the landscape toward safety while avoiding predators. The mechanics never feel disconnected from the story the game is trying to tell.
As I understand it, Tembo is part of a broader series of nature-themed games, although I haven’t had the opportunity to play the others.
My understanding, mind you, I did the absolute minimum amount of research here, is that Deep Blue is a member of the game series that Tembo completes. Looking at the wonderful use of color here, that would not surprise me. It definitely piqued my interest.
What I do know is that designer Asger Granerud has developed a reputation for elegant designs with memorable themes. Between Flamme Rouge, Heat: Pedal to the Metal, and now Tembo, there’s a clear pattern of taking relatively straightforward mechanisms and wrapping them in themes that immediately resonate with players.
The theme isn’t the reason I keep coming back to Tembo. The puzzle is.
But the beautiful presentation, charming artwork, and wonderfully peaceful atmosphere certainly don’t hurt. They make repeatedly losing feel just a little less painful, which, given how difficult this game is, might be one of its smartest design decisions.
Gameplay
Score: Tilt:
Pros: The simple rules disguise a very complex puzzle that requires a lot of game knowledge and experience before you succeed. Great challenge.
Cons: Despite best efforts from the design perspective, some games you will simply lose because of a bad draw, and some you will win because you got lucky.
Whenever I review a game, there are two questions I always ask myself.
The first is simple: Have I played this game before?
Not literally, of course. But most games borrow ideas from somewhere. Worker placement, deck building, tableau building, drafting; modern board games are built on decades of fantastic design, they are usually evolutions, not revolutions. But every now and then, a game presents a puzzle that feels genuinely fresh, a design that makes me stop and think, “I haven’t quite seen that before.”
Those games always get my attention.
The second question is equally important: Can I solve it immediately?
If the optimal strategy reveals itself during the first play, my interest tends to fade rather quickly. What keeps me coming back are games that slowly reveal themselves over repeated plays. Games where every defeat teaches you something, every victory results in you uncovering another layer, and you’re constantly left wondering if there’s an even better approach waiting to be discovered.
Tembo ticks both boxes.
On the surface, it looks like a pleasant little family game about escorting elephants across the African savanna. The rules are approachable, the artwork is adorable, and nothing about the presentation suggests a strategic monster lurking beneath. And perhaps Tembo is not exactly that, but it’s certainly a lot more than what’s on the tin suggests.
That’s wonderfully deceptive. As I’m writing this review, I’ve played Tembo roughly fifteen times. I’m still discovering new ideas. I’m still excited to play.
What’s interesting is that my first impression was actually fairly lukewarm. After my opening games I remember thinking, “This is interesting… but I’m not sure there is much more here than a push your luck game.”
Then I lost. Again. And again.
Losing at Tembo is not hard to do; things can escalate and get out of control pretty fast, especially once the lions get close to the herd. It can be a bit frustrating at times.
Those defeats bothered me enough that I refused to write this review until I’d actually beaten the introductory scenario. More importantly, as I lost, I could see that it wasn’t luck that was driving my defeats.
Eventually, I did win. That’s when the obsession started.
Instead of feeling satisfied, I immediately wanted to tackle the next challenge. Then the next one. Then the next. Every victory revealed another layer of the puzzle, and what initially looked like a pleasant family game gradually transformed into one of the most fascinating strategic puzzles I’ve played in a while.
The best way I can describe Tembo is that it rewards thinking several turns ahead without ever becoming mechanically complicated, with some luck management. The rules remain wonderfully straightforward, but the game is a lot deeper than the rules suggest.
The strategy doesn’t end with solving one of the puzzles; there is a lot more to learn after finishing the first couple of scenarios.
Whether you’re playing solo or cooperatively, I think three elements combine to make the game exceptional.
Every Puzzle Feels Different
The first is the dynamic map.
Every scenario changes the layout of the savanna, but the map tiles themselves also rotate between games. Add to that the impact of the locations of the lions and suddenly every puzzle demands a different approach.
Some layouts reward speed. Others reward caution. Some practically force you to detour for energy, while others encourage aggressive expansion before the lions begin closing off your options.
How you build up the savanna with cards is vital to any strategy, but you’re always working with the constraints of the cards you have drawn. There is a lot of nuance in this little card game built into Tembo, it takes several games for the lights to come on.
The game constantly asks you to reassess your plan rather than relying on whatever worked last time.
Information Is a Resource
The second thing Tembo quietly expects from its players is card counting.
Keeping track of how many Matriarch cards remain in the deck, how many Lion cards have already appeared, and what your odds are on the next draw becomes increasingly important as the difficulty ramps up.
It’s a little like Blackjack. Your odds of winning feel random until you card count, and then suddenly it feels far more strategic. Vegas refers to using strategy in Blackjack as cheating, because it’s that effective. Though card counting here is an intended element, there is even a reference card that helps you do it, and of course, it’s considerably less complicated to count cards here than in Blackjack. It’s an obvious part of the strategic expectation designed into the game.
You never have complete control over what happens next, but understanding the probabilities dramatically improves your chances of making the right decision.
Ignoring the deck is possible. Winning while ignoring is not unless you get really lucky.
Resource Management Is Everything
Finally, and most importantly, there’s resource management.
Energy and rested elephants are the lifeblood of the game. You’ll never have enough of either.
Energy constantly disappears, forcing difficult decisions about when it’s worth diverting from your route to replenish it. Running out is one of the endgame loss conditions, so its nescessary to keep your levels up. Meanwhile, your elephant herd gradually shrinks as lions become more aggressive and the board grows increasingly hostile.
Managing those two resources while simultaneously planning your route, tracking the deck, and preparing for future Matriarch resets creates an astonishing number of possible board states.
Every turn feels meaningful. Every mistake has consequences. Every successful move feels earned.
It’s very easy during your first few games to fall into the trap of simply hoping things work out.
“I’ll probably draw the card I need.”“Hopefully the lions don’t appear here.”“Maybe I can squeeze out one more move…”
Sometimes you’ll even get away with it. Tembo quickly teaches you that hope and luck is not a strategy.
The greater difficulty scenarios demand careful planning, disciplined resource management, and a willingness to think several turns into the future. That’s where the game truly comes alive.
Interestingly, while the cooperative and solo experiences are mechanically almost identical, I actually prefer the game solo. The cooperative restrictions around discussing cards create a slightly different challenge, and it’s still an excellent multiplayer puzzle, but it was the solo mode that completely hooked me. It’s where I’ve spent most of my time, and it’s where I think Tembo truly shines.
What I love most about the design is that it never advertises any of this.
On the surface, Tembo looks like an approachable cooperative family game with adorable elephants. And it kind of is, but hidden underneath that theme is one of the smart, very satisfying strategic puzzles well worth exploring by veteran gamers.
That’s a wonderful achievement. And it’s exactly why I think Tembo is a very underrated game. It deserves more attention in my humble opinion.
Replayability and Longevity
Score: Tilt:
Pros: It’s going to take a lot of replays to complete all of the difficulty levels, and you’re definitely getting your money’s worth.
Cons: Eventually, the puzzle will feel solved, and the game will run out of steam permanently.
Replayability is perhaps the most difficult category to score in Tembo because the answer depends entirely on what you’re expecting from the game.
From a pure value-for-money perspective, I don’t think there’s much to complain about. At roughly the €35–40 price point, Tembo offers a tremendous amount of gameplay. It took me around fifteen plays just to consistently solve some of the introductory scenarios, and I suspect the later challenges will demand at least that many again before I feel like I’ve truly mastered them. Then there is the potential of introducing it to new players and enjoying their discovery and experience.
Frankly, that’s already more plays than many games in my collection ever receive.
There is a campaign mode that comes with Tembo, and for this review, I did not even attempt it. I think it’s for an advanced level of play. Just reading the instructions, I could see how very difficult a challenge that will be, but it does give the game a bit of extra longevity.
When I look across my shelves, the list of games I’ve played thirty or forty times is surprisingly short. Tembo is well on its way to joining that club, and that’s saying something.
That said, I don’t think Tembo is the sort of game you’ll play forever. At its heart, it’s a puzzle. And puzzles, by their very nature, have an endpoint.
I don’t necessarily mean they’ll ever be completely “solved.” The randomized maps, card order, and dynamic board states ensure there’s always some variation from game to game. But eventually you’ll reach a point where the game has taught you most of what it has to teach. The surprises become less frequent, the strategies more familiar, and your decisions increasingly instinctive.
For some people, that might sound like a weakness. I don’t see it that way.
Not every game needs to become a lifestyle game that lives permanently on your table. Sometimes a game simply needs to provide dozens of hours of engaging, memorable gameplay before gracefully stepping aside for the next experience.
Tembo strikes me as exactly that kind of game. It’s a journey with a destination.
Eventually, you’ll reach the end, feel immensely satisfied that you made it, and happily place it back on the shelf knowing it earned every play it received.
I think there’s something rather fitting about that. After all, every migration eventually comes to an end.
Conclusion
When I sat down to write this review, I honestly wasn’t sure where I was going to land. If anything, I expected to be fairly lukewarm on Tembo.
Cooperative games and I don’t exactly have the best relationship, and if I’m being completely honest, I wasn’t particularly excited when I first agreed to review it. There was even a small part of me that regretted saying yes.
I’m very happy to report that I was completely wrong.
Tembo didn’t just surprise me; it quietly became one of my biggest gaming obsessions of the past few weeks.
It’s an unusual game. A cooperative strategy puzzle about escorting elephants across the African savanna isn’t exactly the sort of pitch that immediately grabs my attention, yet behind that simple, yet charming presentation lies one of the most satisfying and cleverly designed cooperative puzzles I’ve played in quite a while.
What impressed me most wasn’t the difficulty. It was the very subtle depth brought out slowly, even if it was a bit frustrating at times.
Tembo is one of those rare games that’s incredibly easy to learn but remarkably difficult to master. The rules are concise, intuitive, and approachable, yet the strategic puzzle hiding beneath them took me well over a dozen games before I felt like I truly understood what the designers were asking of me.
That’s exactly the sort of challenge I enjoy and certainly wasn’t expecting it from Tembo, a game about herding elephants.
I love going into a game with low expectations and being pleasantly surprised; it’s actually one of my favorite things about being a tabletop games reviewer.
Although Tembo plays wonderfully as a cooperative experience, it was the solo mode that completely won me over. It captures everything I love about solitary puzzle solving: the constant experimentation, the gradual discovery of better strategies, and the satisfying feeling that every defeat is teaching you something rather than simply wasting your time.
Yes, sometimes the game just beats you because of bad luck, not unlike a bad beat in poker, and that is going to happen now and again, but the more you play, the less often it happens, and that is experience kicking in. It might seem random, especially at first, but this game hides a lot of strategic subtlety.
If you enjoy cooperative puzzle games that genuinely expect you to think, titles like The Crew, The Gang, or even the more puzzle-oriented side of Spirit Island, I think you’ll find a lot to love here.
I also think it makes an excellent family game, with one important caveat.
Don’t mistake approachable rules for an easy game.
Tembo is genuinely difficult, and younger players or more casual families may find the constant defeats frustrating. Fortunately, the designers anticipated this. The support cards provide valuable assistance, and there are optional rules that soften the challenge for groups who simply want a more relaxed experience, like playing without event cards. Personally, I recommend keeping the event deck in play. It adds another layer of unpredictability and keeps the puzzle feeling dynamic, even if it occasionally results in spectacular failure.
Spectacular failure, in my opinion, is half the fun.
Tembo won’t be for everyone. If you’re looking for a light-hearted cooperative game where victory is almost guaranteed, you’ll probably bounce off it.
But if you’re the kind of player who enjoys wrestling with a difficult puzzle, learning through repeated defeats, and finally earning a victory that feels genuinely deserved, Tembo is an easy recommendation.
A beautifully produced, deceptively deep, and wonderfully addictive puzzle game that earned its place on my shelf the hard way, by making me want to play “just one more game” fifteen times in a row.
