People are always telling me that I should do more Top 10 lists. They’re a staple of the hobby, and to be fair, I used to write a lot more of them in the past. I get it, I like them too. The problem is that whenever I sit down to make one, I inevitably end up recreating some version of my annual Top 20 Games of all time list. After a while, it starts to feel less like a new article and more like I’m just changing the title and hoping nobody notices.

This year, however, I’ve spent a lot more time playing games on Board Game Arena, the digital board gaming site. If you’ve never used it and are a board game fan, you definitely should give it a go. It’s probably one of the best resources available for trying games before deciding whether they’re worth buying. The library is enormous, especially if you’re a fan of Eurogames, and there’s always something new to discover as games are added all the time.

One of the unexpected benefits of BGA is that it exposes me to games I would not ordinarily pick up and probably not otherwise ever try. Some of those games have turned out to be absolute gems. Even more interesting, certain games actually play better online than they do on the table. Some games are fiddly with endless bookkeeping, complicated scoring, or enough upkeep to qualify as a part-time job. When all of that is automated, a game can suddenly become a much smoother and more enjoyable experience online than it ever could offline.

In fact, I’ve caught myself saying, “I don’t really like that game… but I love playing it online.” Which, as strange as it sounds, I actually find to be true quite often.

So that’s exactly what this list is. These are my current 10 favorite games to play on BGA. Some of them are games I already loved, some of them surprised me, and a few are games that I enjoy far more online than I ever would around a physical table.

1. Great Western Trail

This is one of my favorite games of all time. It has appeared on my annual Best Of lists for years, and I do not expect it to disappear anytime soon. What’s interesting, however, is that unlike many of the other games on this list, this is one I actually play very often online but rarely offline. A big part of that is thanks to the excellent Board Game Arena implementation. This is a case of the game being a bit of a pain to teach, and it’s quite fiddly on the table and can be quite long. BBG kind of fixes all that for you.

It’s difficult to point to any specific mechanic in Great Western Trail that keeps pulling me back; There is a hand management element, resource management, and traditional victory point salad. Other than the way you move being a bit unique in the game, there is nothing particularly standout about the mechanics. I think it’s more of a general strategic options thing, everything put together at once. The sheer volume of strategic possibilities GW offers demands a lot of exploration; it goes quite deep. Even after 118 plays, I’m still discovering new ways to win and combo, but more often than I would like, new ways to lose.

My history with the game is a little unusual. My original review was far from glowing. It took several more plays after this review before I really understood what the game was trying to do, and even longer before I truly appreciated just how brilliant it is. It is part of a very small number of games on this site that I have ever gone back on and re-reviewed.

At its core, this is a tight resource management game that rewards careful planning, efficient turns, and long-term strategic thinking. Success often comes from anticipating your opponents’ plans and finding ways to exploit the opportunities they create, an aspect of the game I adore.

My endorsement here is of the highest order!

2. White Castle

This was a relatively recent discovery for me, but wow, does this game deliver.

At its heart, White Castle is a tight worker-placement and resource-management victory-point salad game, a classic Euro formula. What makes it stand out is its shared dice pool. Players aren’t just competing for action spaces; they’re competing for the dice that power those actions as well, creating a sort of duality to the worker placement formula.

The result is a surprisingly interactive experience. Every turn feels like you’re making a multifaceted decision with significant impact both on your own position and denying opportunities to your opponents but on multiple fronts. It’s one of the more confrontational worker placement games I’ve played that doesn’t rely on cheap direct attacks or “take that” mechanics, like, for example, Lords of Waterdeep.

What really sold me, though, is just how tight the design is. Every resource, every action, every position is part of a grand strategic design, and there is absolutetly no room for error. You literally will take 9 actions in the entire game. The game rewards careful planning, clever sequencing, and the ability to squeeze every last drop of value out of your turn. It’s the kind of game where you finish a session and immediately start thinking about what you should have done differently.

In fact, this was one of the very few games I discovered on Board Game Arena that led directly to me buying a physical copy. That’s about as strong an endorsement as I can give.

If you enjoy deep, challenging worker placement games that reward smart play and punish sloppy decisions, White Castle is an absolute winner.

I should talk a bit about the expansion because this is also available on BGA. White Castle: Matcha introduces a 4th dice type and some new actions and cards that take this already pretty deep game and tight game and open it up a bit. It definitely complicates, and while I like I would not recommend it unless you’re playing this game on repeat and need something fresh. In that way, it’s a perfect expansion, as it does exactly what expansions should do: refresh a game you already like.

3. Shogun

Let me start with a confession.

I think Shogun is better in person, making this an exception to the general rule of this list.

In fact, if given the choice, I would almost always rather play it at a real table. The reason is simple: the dice tower.

That ridiculous contraption is one of the greatest gimmicks ever put into a board game. Every battle becomes an event. Players gather around it, cheer for impossible outcomes, groan at disasters, and generally make far more noise than any sensible adult should. It is glorious.

So yes, something is inevitably lost when you move Shogun online.

And yet, the Board Game Arena implementation is excellent.

The reason it still works so well is that beneath the spectacle, Shogun is also a fantastic strategy game. It remains one of my all-time favorites and one of the oldest titles in my collection.

At first glance, it looks like a straightforward dudes on a map conflict. Armies move around Japan, provinces are conquered, and players fight for territory. Simple enough, but the game is much more than that.

The twist is that, hidden beneath all that military posturing, is a surprisingly tight victory-point driven game. Scoring opportunities are limited, which means every point matters. Taking territory is important, but taking the right territory at the right moment is what actually wins games because, as the game progresses, players build point-scoring buildings in territories, dramatically increasing their value.

Then there is the action planning system. Every round, players secretly assign a whole series of actions in advance, often with incomplete information and only a rough idea of what everyone else is about to do. It is a brilliant mechanic that turns every turn into a mixture of strategy, prediction, and outright gambling, culminating in beautiful chaos.

You can devise a master plan worthy of a legendary daimyo. Or you can watch that plan collapse spectacularly because your opponent did something unexpected. Or because the dice tower decided it was feeling particularly mischievous that day. Probably both.

The combination of area control, hidden planning, resource management, and unpredictable battles creates a game that is constantly generating memorable stories. It is strategic enough to reward careful planning, chaotic enough to keep players humble, and interactive enough that nobody ever feels like they are playing a multiplayer solitaire game.

Shogun is one of those rare games that has stood the test of time for a reason. If you have never played it, you should. If you enjoy area control games, you should probably own it.

And if your gaming shelf currently contains Risk because you wanted a conquest, dudes on a map game, I would argue that Shogun is superior in every measurable way and solves that need far more elegantly.

4. Knarr

Knarr is one of those games that seemed to slip past a lot of people when it was released, myself included. It’s a shame because it’s a bonefied hidden gem and smash hit as far as I’m concerned.

Mechanically, it’s a straightforward tableau-based, card-driven engine builder wrapped up in a race for victory points. On paper, there isn’t a lot going on here, mechanically it’s simple and streamlined. In practice, however, the game offers far more strategic depth than its light rules would suggest.

One of the things I love most about Knarr is that it’s sort of a risk vs. reward style game when it comes to your strategy. Your options are to go for the slow burn and explosive end, hoping you will get to execute that final big turn for the win, or you race to finish to outpace people building proper engines, creating pressure on everyone. Once you commit to a path, you are largely along for the ride. The game is simply too short to completely change direction halfway through, so success often comes down to reading the table, spotting opportunities, and trusting your instincts in the early game.

There is certainly a bit of luck involved. You can’t control what cards will appear, and part of the challenge is figuring out how to make the best use of whatever opportunities are currently available. The best players are not necessarily the ones with the perfect plan, but the ones who can adapt when the cards refuse to cooperate. Reading people’s options is also fairly important here.

Perhaps the biggest compliment I can give Knarr is that one game is rarely enough. Whenever my regular online group plays a round, it’s rare that someone doesn’t immediately demand a rematch. It’s addictive, occasionally frustrating, and consistently entertaining. This is a game that will keep your gaming group up late every time. I’ve had many painful mornings because of this one.

Knarr went straight from Board Game Arena to my shopping cart. It’s easy to learn, easy to teach, accessible enough for newer players, and still offers plenty of depth for experienced gamers. The expansion adds a lot to the game; if you get a chance to grab it, it’s a no-brainer.

An outstanding game and one that deserves far more attention than it’s gotten since its release.

5. Middle Ages

I should probably begin this entry with a disclaimer. I have only played Middle Ages three four times.

As a result, its appearance on this list may be a little premature. There is every possibility that six months from now I will discover some fatal flaw and wonder what I was thinking.

That said, based on what I have seen so far, I really like it.

What immediately stands out is how unique the game feels; it’s not a mechanic I have seen before. There are plenty of games that ask players to plan ahead, but Middle Ages builds its entire identity around that concept.

The core mechanic is a bit odd, but ultimately fairly simple. Each round, you choose the action you will perform next round while simultaneously resolving the action you selected during the previous round. The action you choose next round will determine the turn order and will determine which building you put into play, how you score, and what special action you can take. You can see what buildings will be available 4 rounds in advance. The trick to the entire game is knowing how to navigate a clean path that yields the most victory points through building combinations by predicting what your opponents are going to do and what will be available on your turn. Do that well consistently and you are going to wint his game.

If that explanation sounds confusing, it’s because it is, and this game will seem very complex the first time you play it. It’s really not; that impression fades quickly.

In fact, learning and teaching the game is probably harder than actually playing it. I remember being thoroughly confused the first time I sat down with it. Thankfully, once you get over that first game hump, everything clicks surprisingly quickly. Beneath the awkward explanation lies a remarkably straightforward game.

The real magic comes from the timing.

Many of the actions are surprisingly confrontational, creating plenty of opportunities to disrupt plans, steal opportunities, and generally make life difficult for everyone else at the table. It creates a wonderfully dynamic experience where long-term planning is important, but short-term flexibility is equally valuable.

Of course, if everyone else is trying to do the same thing, things can get delightfully messy. Which is where much of the fun comes from.

Four games is hardly enough time to form a definitive opinion, but Middle Ages has already made a strong impression on me. It is clever, interactive, surprisingly tense, and refreshingly different from many of the other games currently making the rounds.

Ask me again after ten more plays…but yeah, for now, I think it’s good.

6. The Castles of Burgundy

This is another game that firmly belongs in my “great on Board Game Arena, probably not for my collection” category.

The Castles of Burgundy hardly needs an introduction. For more than a decade, board gamers have been singing its praises from every rooftop available. It remains one of the hobby’s most celebrated Eurogames and continues to sit comfortably among the highest-ranked games of all time on BoardGameGeek.

To be fair, I completely understand why.

The game is incredibly clever. Every turn presents you with a simple challenge: here are your dice, now figure out something smart to do with them. It sounds straightforward, but the sheer number of options available creates a deeply satisfying puzzle, and a puzzle is exactly what this game is.

Unlike certain other famous dice games (fuck you Catan!) that I could happily launch into the sun, The Castles of Burgundy never feels like it is actively trying to ruin your day. Yes, the dice can be frustrating. They will occasionally betray you. They will occasionally mock you. But the game gives you plenty of tools to manipulate results, mitigate bad luck, and salvage a plan that has gone horribly wrong.

Success comes from finding opportunities, building combinations, and squeezing as much value as possible from every action. Like any great point salad game, there are dozens of paths to victory and just as many opportunities to accidentally wander off a cliff.

What I find particularly amusing is that, despite genuinely enjoying the game, I have yet to finish anywhere other than last place.

Normally, that would be a warning sign. Instead, I find myself wanting to play more.

Every loss feels less like a defeat and more like a challenge. Somewhere inside this elegant machine is a strategy that works. Other players seem capable of finding it with alarming consistency. One day, I intend to join them.

Until then, while I’m late to the party, The Castles of Burgundy remains a great BGA discovery. I’m not sure I will ever own a copy, but I can fully understand why people love this game.

It vexes me.

And I shall prevail.

7. Beyond The Sun

Beyond The Sun is another game on this list that falls firmly into the “I keep playing it because I find it fascinating” category, but I doubt I would ever buy it.

Whether I actually love it or not remains an open question.

What I can say with confidence is that it is… interesting in an academic, connoisseur of board games kind of way.

The best way I can describe Beyond The Sun is that it feels like two only vaguely related games somehow got stitched together and, against all odds, the result actually works.

On one side of the board, players compete over a sprawling technology tree through a worker placement system. Researching new technologies unlocks powerful abilities, creating entirely new worker placement spaces that only the player who discovered them can use. Much of your overall strategy is shaped by how you navigate this constantly evolving network of technologies.

On the other side of the board, there is a surprisingly aggressive little space conquest game taking place. Fleets move around the galaxy, players compete for influence, and planets are eventually colonized for valuable rewards and endgame objectives.

What makes it all work is that both halves of the game share the same economy. The actions you take on the technology board fuel your expansion efforts in space, while success in space provides resources and opportunities that feed back into your technological development.

The whole experience feels like an enormous efficiency puzzle.

There is player interaction. In fact, the space board can become downright hostile at times. Yet somehow, despite ships moving around and players competing for territory, most of your attention remains focused on optimizing your own engine and finding the most efficient sequence of actions possible.

That contrast is part of what makes the game so interesting. It feels interactive without being overly confrontational. Competitive without being particularly emotional.

And fascinating throughout.

The funny thing is that I am still not entirely sure whether I would call Beyond The Sun “fun.” I know that sounds absurd, given the amount of time I have spent playing it, but there is a difference between enjoying something and being intellectually captivated by it.

Beyond The Sun falls into that second category for me.

Every game leaves me wanting to explore a different technology path, try a different strategy, or see how another combination of systems might unfold. It is the kind of design that keeps provoking questions long after the game is over.

That curiosity alone has earned it a place on this list. I don’t know if I would recommend it as a purchase, but on BGA you should definitely try it, especially if you have an academic curiosity about board game design.

8. Aquatica

Aquatica occupies a similar space on this list as Beyond The Sun, an academic curiosity more than a fun game.

I am not entirely convinced that I love it. I am not even completely convinced that I would describe it as fun or even a good game.

And yet, I keep playing it.

That probably sounds like a terrible endorsement, but hear me out.

Again, as a self-proclaimed connoisseur of board game design, I find Aquatica fascinating. There is something about its unusual approach to engine building that continues to pull me back in. I have logged over a dozen games so far, and I am still trying to fully wrap my head around what makes it tick.

At its core, Aquatica is a tableau-building card game where players are constantly trying to create temporary engines from whatever cards happen to be available at the time. The experience feels less like constructing a finely tuned machine and more like creating temporary boosts that you hope will have a domino effect.

I think that is the unique spark here that your tableau, the cards you buy, is a temporary resource in your engine. Unlike many engine builders, where you gradually assemble a powerful machine that produces increasing returns throughout the game, Aquatica lets you use a resource once, and then you kind of have to start over. Your engine is constantly changing shape, firing off effects, collapsing, and being rebuilt into something entirely different.

The result is a game that feels surprisingly dynamic. Every turn becomes a puzzle involving the cards in your hand, the cards available for purchase, and the opportunities hidden within your tableau. Plans rarely survive intact for very long, and adaptation is often more important than execution. Other players can also alter the board state in front of you, which creates another uncontrolled layer to the puzzle.

It is a strange design that sort of skirts expectations.

One thing I have heard repeatedly, although I cannot personally verify it, is that Aquatica can be somewhat fiddly when played physically. If true, it is exactly the sort of game that benefits enormously from Board Game Arena handling all the bookkeeping behind the scenes. Though I have to say this is not the best interface on BGA, it can be a bit fiddly here as well.

Whether Aquatica ultimately becomes a favorite of mine remains to be seen. What I can say is that very few games have managed to keep me this curious after so many plays.

That alone makes it worth trying.

Give it a shot. It might not capture your imagination the way it has captured mine, but if it does, do not be surprised if you find yourself queueing up “just one more game” while trying to figure out what on earth makes it so compelling.

9. Harmonies

Harmonies is a perfect example of a game I would never buy, but am more than happy to play on Board Game Arena.

That is not a criticism of the game. Quite the opposite, actually. Harmonies is an excellent design. The reality is simply that it lives well outside my usual gaming preferences. An abstract puzzle game about building habitats for animals is not exactly the sort of thing that normally finds its way onto my shelf.

More importantly, I know my gaming group.

If I brought Harmonies to game night, everyone would give it a fair shot. We would play a game, nod appreciatively, make a few comments about how clever it is, and then immediately return to conquering empires, managing medieval economies, or fighting over cubes. The game would quietly disappear into the collection and never see daylight again.

Board Game Arena changes that completely.

Online, Harmonies becomes the perfect middle-weight filler game. It is quick, engaging, easy to set up, and delivers just the right amount of brain burn without demanding an entire evening. It is the kind of game I am always happy to squeeze in between heavier titles.

The gameplay itself is wonderfully clever. Players build habitats using colorful terrain pieces while drafting animal cards that reward specific patterns and arrangements. Every turn feels like a small puzzle, with multiple competing priorities fighting for space on your board. There are animal objectives to complete, bonus scoring opportunities to chase, and just enough point salad sprinkled throughout to keep you second-guessing every placement.

It is thoughtful, satisfying, occasionally frustrating, and surprisingly addictive. The kind of game that makes your brain hurt just enough to remind you that you are having fun.

I may never own Harmonies, but I am always happy to see it hit the virtual table.

10. Lost Ruins of Arnak

I feel obligated to include Lost Ruins of Arnak on this list. I am doing so under protest.

Let’s get this out of the way immediately: it is a good game. In fact, it is probably a very good game. The design is clever, the decisions are meaningful, and there is clearly a tremendous amount of depth hiding beneath its relatively approachable exterior.

The problem is that Lost Ruins of Arnak and I are currently involved in a bitter personal feud. After eighteen plays, I have yet to win a game.

Not only have I failed to win, but I have rarely come close. At this point, I am less an explorer searching for ancient ruins and more an archaeologist excavating the remains of my own shattered confidence.

What makes this particularly frustrating is that the game does not appear especially complicated or novel.

Mechanically, Arnak is built from familiar ingredients. There is deck building. There is worker placement. There are tracks to move up. There is resource management. None of these concepts are new, and individually they are all things I understand perfectly well.

Yet somehow, when combined together, they form a mysterious puzzle box that my brain simply refuses to open.

I watch other players effortlessly chain actions together, convert resources into other resources, advance research tracks, discover sites, recruit assistants, and somehow continue taking turns long after I have passed and started questioning my life choices.

Most of the time I don’t even understand how I lost. I simply know that at the end of the game everyone else has more points than I do.

Repeatedly.

To be fair, I completely understand why Arnak has such a devoted following. It is one of the most celebrated games of the last several years, and an incredibly polished design. Every mechanism feels carefully crafted and intentionally connected to the others. It is easy to see why so many people consider it a modern classic.

I just happen to be standing outside the secret clubhouse, pressing my face against the window and wondering what everyone else is so excited about.

Eventually, I will return. I will once again venture into the jungle. I will once again attempt to decipher its mysteries.

And perhaps one day I will finally discover the ancient secret that allows a player to score points.

Until then, Lost Ruins of Arnak sits at the bottom of this list as punishment for being naughty and refusing to let me win.

I am aware that this is not how rankings work.

I stand by my decision.