Review - Space Hulk: Death Angel - Tyranid Enemy Pack

In the first week of September 2014, Games Workshop announced the release of a new edition of Space Hulk. To honour this occasion, AlwaysBoardNeverBoring is running a series of Space Hulk themed reviews. Next up is an expansion for Space Hulk: Death Angel.

Space Hulk: Death Angel - Tyranid Enemy Pack
Designed by Brady Sadler
Published by Fantasy Flight Games
For 1 - 6 players (in conjunction with the Death Angel base game)

You know Space Hulk, right? It's that game where you send a team of heavily armed and armoured marines into the wreckage of a spaceship, and then watch hopelessly as an army of genestealers go all Jackie Chan on the poor sods.

Yeah. I love that game.

Well, you know Space Hulk: Death Angel, right? It's that game where you send a team of heavily armed and armoured marines into the wreckage of a spaceship, and then watch hopelessly as an army of genestealers go all Steven Seagal on the poor sods.

Yeah. I love that game too.

Well, you know one thing I have never thought when playing either of those games?

I have never thought, "Man, I wish these enemies were a bit more Bruce Lee."

I may not have thought it, but someone at Fantasy Flight Games sure did, and the Death Angel - Tyranid Enemy Pack expansion is the proof: A set of cards that takes a brutally tough game and ratchets the hurt levels from "wet towel on the ass" up to "stepping on an electrical plug with no shoes on."

Now, I don't often do expansions. They tend to add extra rules to games I already love, and they end up overegging the pudding. However, the Tyranid Enemy Pack is an expansion done right. It is simply a new deck of tyranid cards that replaces the existing genestealer deck. It is completely modular, allowing you to swap it in and out without any fuss, and it does not change any of the core rules. 

(As an aside, it is worth noting that, as this expansion is from Fantasy Flight Game's print on demand service, the cardstock is not the same as the cardstock used in the base game. The cards are smooth, rather than linen-finished, and there is a small amount of feathering around the edges where they were cut. Having said that, the cards shuffle like silk, and they are still really nice to handle. Furthermore, you never shuffle base game cards and expansion cards together, so the difference in card quality does not impact gameplay in any way.)

The main purpose of the tyranids is to add some variety to the way the enemies act during a game. While the genestealers in the base game all do exactly the same thing, the tyranids are a completely different kettle of piranhas. Now, as you trudge through the claustrophobic ruins of the hulk, you are going to meet a host of different foes, each with a rather delightful and evocative name:

The Raveners, which get multiple attacks; the Rippers, which chase down marines mercilessly; the Lictors, which are sneaky b*stards; and the Hormagaunts, which may bring additional tyranids to the party when they show up.

Sounds like fun, right?

And it is fun, if you like getting the beating of your life.

The gang's all here... to tear your face off.

But if you're craving an even greater challenge, you can introduce one of the four new objectives that ship with this expansion. Just shuffle the four objectives and randomly draw one instead of using the objective locations from the base game. Simple.

If only winning the objectives was so easy.

You see, each new objective represents a Hive Lord you need to kill: A gigantic, ferocious, unstoppable killing machine with slavering jaws, immense talons, and a thirst for terminator blood.

Having trouble picturing it?

Imagine the alien queen from Aliens.

Got it?

Right, now imagine you left your powerloader at home.

The Mawloc is one of the toughest adversaries.

Ultimately, the Tyranid Enemy Pack is an expansion for people who want a horrific challenge.

It piles on the pressure.

It pounds you mercilessly with enemies that are stronger, faster, and cleverer than the original genestealers.

It makes you suffer.

It makes you feel hopeless.

But then, it's an expansion for a Space Hulk game. What did you expect?

Review - Space Hulk: Death Angel

In the first week of September 2014, Games Workshop announced a limited release of the seminal classic, Space Hulk. To celebrate, AlwaysBoardNeverBoring is running a series of Space Hulk reviews. We started with Space Hulk: Third Edition (obviously). Next up, is Space Hulk: Death Angel.

Space Hulk: Death Angel
Designed by Corey Konieczka
Published by Fantasy Flight Games
For 1-6 players, aged 13 to adult

Compact, and perfectly formed.

It's no fun being a terminator space marine charged with clearing the alien infestation from one of the gargantuan "hulks" floating through outer space. You're clumsy and slow, you're out of place, you're constantly being asked to do stuff that doesn't make sense, and you're surrounded by feral creatures that want to give you a sound beating.

It's a bit like being at school.

In fact, the original Space Hulk board game came out in 1989, when I was still at school. Maybe that's why I wasn't keen on it at the time: Playing it was just a bit too much like a busman's holiday.

Over time I grew to love Space Hulk... You know, after I finished school, and all the therapy started to pay dividends. I learned to appreciate the tension, the sense of clawing dread, the terrible panic...

But there was always a problem.

Space Hulk is a two-player game: One marine player versus one genestealer player.

What I really wanted was a way to experience that gruelling terror with a group of friends. Or even on my own in a solo game.

What I really wanted was Space Hulk: Death Angel.

This card game comes in a box that is as lean and compact as the original Space Hulk rules; but that box is full of gaming goodness: 128 full colour cards depicting marines, actions, events, aliens, locations, and terrain; a punchboard of tokens; and one dice... One dice made out of refined evil. But more on that in a minute.

With two expansions, the box is pretty packed.

As you would expect, the game is a valiant (and almost entirely successful) effort to distill the essence of Space Hulk. In other words, it is an effort to put you under stupid amounts of pressure, and to make you feel like you are constantly on the verge of losing.

The back of the box says, "44% chance of mission success with 86% squad casualties."

To be honest, I think those odds are quite generous.

Death Angel is an incredibly simple and streamlined game, but anyone confronted with the rule book is going to feel much like a young space marine scout confronting his first slavering genestealer. The mixture of bewilderment and panic is probably going to be enough to convince you that coming to this floating graveyard was not your best idea.

The rules are baffling, badly laid out, and incredibly long (32 pages for a simple card game is more overkill than a squad of marines with assault cannons on overwatch).

They are also complete.

The rules are actually good; but if you just sit there and try to read them, you're going to feel like you stepped inside an M C Escher painting.

I really struggled until I actually set up the game. Seeing the cards in play, suddenly all the rules I had been struggling with made perfect sense.

And so, my marines boarded the hulk, and the mission began...

In Space Hulk, you spend a lot of time in narrow corridors, walking in straight lines, and trying to avoid flank attacks. So, perhaps it is not surprising that in a card game seeking to recreate that kind of environment, you start by placing your marines in a column. Some of the marines are looking left, and some are looking right.

You reveal a location card, representing where the marines are at the moment. Then, you place items of terrain, such as air vents and dark corners.

And then the genestealers appear...

Random card draws dictate where they arrive. They could pop out of that tunnel on the left, or from that vent on the right. They could spill through a narrow corridor, or emerge from behind a closed door.

They arrive in hordes, and then they start to scurry... The genestealer that spawned in front of your sergeant suddenly skitters across the ceiling and drops down behind him. The genestealer you had lined up in the sights of your flamer suddenly dodges.

The game is on.

You respond with fire: Bolters blaze, your assault cannon whirs, lightning claws crackle as you slice through the approaching masses. Desperately, you order some of your squad to adjust their facing to tackle approaching enemies that are sneaking up behind. The stuttering white light of the bolters illuminates the foe. And still they press closer...

All this is achieved through a simple system of card play, and a single custom dice.

Each player has one or more pairs of marines, and each pair has exactly three order cards. One card is an attack action, one is a support action, and one is a move action. You simply choose one action for each pair, with the only rule being that you are not allowed to play the same action two turns in a row.

Two marines with their associated action cards.

The attack action allows your two marines to attack, your support action allows you to place a support token on any marine (which allows that marine to reroll a dice once), and the move action allows your marines to swap spaces with an adjacent marine, change facing, and potentially activate a special terrain feature such as a door.

Additionally, each action offers a special ability unique to the marine pairing. For example, the player who controls the librarian gets to make a special psychic attack when playing his attack card, and so on.

The design of the cards is exceptional, and really does create a lot of tactical options. Sure, at the end of the day you are making a 50/50 choice each turn (because you cannot use the same card twice in a row), but that's fine, because it's not just about your choices, it's about the choices the entire team is making. There is plenty to have heated discussions about, and yet there are never so many options that players feel overwhelmed.

It is an incredibly streamlined, incredibly effective, and incredibly challenging design. And that challenge is compounded by the presence of that bloody custom dice.

Expect to see the "0" often; the skull never.

When you attack a genestealer, you roll the dice and you successfully kill the genestealer if a skull turns up. There are three skulls, so there is a 50% chance of killing an alien with a basic attack. That's not so bad.

When genstealers attack a marine, you roll the same dice. If the number that turns up is less than or equal to the number of attacking genestealers, your marine dies.

Instantly.

Just to emphasise the point, this dice has a face with a "0" on it, and caps at "5." So, if your marine is attacked by a single genestealer, you have a 33.3% chance of dying. If you are attacked by five genestealers, there is nothing you can do about it... You're alien chow.

And the dice hates me.

It must do.

It defies the rules of chance to get quite as many "0" results as I get. It verges on the ridiculous.

Support tokens. THEY DO NOTHING!!!

But if you manage to defy the dice for long enough, your marines move to a new location (by replacing the current location card). New terrain is laid out. Some genestealers chase after you, while some may get locked behind closed doors.

You press on. Ever onwards. Until you reach the objective location.

Here you have a special task, such as blowing up something, or clearing out all the genestealers. If you succeed, you win.

If you fail, of course, your helmet gets used as a nice decorative vase.

Death Angel is easy to play, easy to teach, but tough to master. It is exciting and tense. There are real decisions to make. And yet...

And yet...

Whether you win or not is only partially down to your tactics.

The order of the events you draw, the numbers you roll on the dice, the locations where the genestealers arrive: Every variable directly impacts your chance of success, and only sometimes does good play get you out of a jam.

It is possible to march into the hulk and romp home to victory without taking a casualty. It is just as possible (in fact, much more likely) that you will march into the hulk and suffer a horrifying defeat. And afterwards, you will review your performance, and you will realise there really wasn't anything you could have done differently. You handled the challenges as they turned up, but the dice failed you. You did what you could, but it wasn't enough.

And then you will set up the game and play again.

Because it's fun.

Genestealers. Nothing to worry about...

Yes, there are times when the luck has to go your way. Yes, there are times when the actions you need to take are blatantly obvious.

But then there are the stories.

Your marine standing valiantly at the rear, hacking to bits genestealer after genestealer with his lightning claws before finally succumbing to weight of numbers. Your sergeant blowing the reactor, sacrificing himself in order to suck a horde of genestealers into outer space. Your librarian toasting genestealers with his psychic blasts before being sucker-punched from behind by that one genestealer nobody saw coming.

It's all there...

The heroism, the misery, the insurmountable odds, the last-minute victories, the teeth-gnashing defeats.

The essence of Space Hulk.

Review - Space Hulk: Third Edition (2009)

In the first week of September 2014, Games Workshop announced a new limited edition of the classic tactical squad-based miniatures game, Space Hulk. This edition would be almost identical to the 2009 third edition release, but with a few extra scenarios and board sections. This is fantastic news for those people who have always wanted a copy of the game, but who are not prepared to pay the obscene eBay prices.

To celebrate, AlwaysBoardNeverBoring has decided that this week is going to be Space Hulk week. I will be bringing you a series of reviews relating to man's desperate battles with aliens in outer space. Starting, of course, with my review of Space Hulk: Third Edition (2009).

Space Hulk: Third Edition (2009)
Designed by Richard Halliwell
Published by Games Workshop
For 2 players, aged 12 to adult

In my youth, a hazy period of time that was longer ago than I like to think it was, I owned a lot of Games Workshop games, or games produced in association with Games Workshop. I had Heroquest, Advanced Heroquest, Warhammer Quest, Space Crusade, Advanced Space Crusade, Necromunda, Talisman, Battle Masters, Blood Bowl... The list goes on, but I won't.

The one game that I never owned was Space Hulk.

That may seem unusual, considering how highly regarded the game is; but there you have it.

I think the reason I never really wanted it was because it seemed less colourful and varied than the other games I liked. All the terminators were pretty much the same, and they trudged through very similar-looking corridors, shooting a bunch of identical aliens.

But as I grew older, I grew wiser. I started to realise that Space Hulk is an immaculate game.

Yes, I said "immaculate."

It is a lean, muscular game with a stripped back design that exposes all the bloody guts of the thing and makes you root around in the filth and bile. It is a visceral, atmospheric experience that wrings the maximum amount of tension from just a handful of game mechanisms. Some might say it is an elegant design. It's not. It's about as elegant as a punch in the face.

Thematically, it is everything you could want from a science fiction game. Hundreds of wrecked space craft have fused together over time to create a floating mass of metal, infested with alien life forms that scurry through the husk like vermin. A group of terminator space marines infiltrate the wreck in order to exterminate the aliens, retrieve valuable artefacts, and most importantly, retrieve lost honour.

It was a bad call, Ripley. A bad call.

The game barely squeezes into the box.

The theme sets the bar high, and the game lives up to it in every possible way: You create a maze of brutally narrow tunnels with modular board pieces, you grab a pitifully small group of terminator space marines with woefully inadequate weapons, and then you start your mission...

Your terminators are slow. Really slow. They have limited action points, and by limited I mean, "not enough." When turning to your left or right costs you one of your four actions, getting anywhere with any kind of speed is arduous and difficult, and making a bad move that costs you several actions to rectify could be fatal.

But why would you make a bad move?

Because you're on a timer. That's why.

The game tokens.

At the start of your turn, the timer flips. And then you flip. Your rational brain turns to mush. Your best laid plans suddenly seem impossible to execute. Even rolling the dice seems to take too long. So you scramble to get things done, desperately trying to move up to ten marines, setting up firing arcs, covering routes where you expect enemies to appear, advancing as far as possible... as far as you dare... while the sands drain away inexorably.

You form your squad into single file, and then push into the claustrophobic tunnel ahead. Here there is no room to manoeuvre; you have to continue, or you have to fall back. If you have placed the wrong marine at the front of the line, it's game over. If you didn't leave a marine defending your rear, it's game over.

You made your decision fast, and now you watch in agony as your slow marines plod through the motions, revealing too late - always too late - that you have just made a bad call.

Your marine with the flamethrower doesn't have line of sight because he is not at the front of the line; your sergeant doesn't have enough command points left to defend himself; the marine at the back... well, you never liked him anyway.

Looks like fun, right?

And now your opponent, who is playing the genestealer aliens that infest this ship, places a small cardboard token on the board. A blip.

A small round counter, representing the readout on your marines' motion scanners.

A small round counter that could be a single alien scurrying to hide, or a swarm of aliens in a tightly packed mass waiting to turn your marines into confetti. Horrible, meaty confetti.

He places one. Then another. And another. Suddenly the board seems too small, and the enemy are too many.

One of the blips is RIGHT THERE, only a few spaces from your tightly packed smorgasbord of marines who are just waiting to get peeled out of their armour like crab meat.

It's okay. You're okay. You put one of your marines in that corridor, and you used two of his valuable action points to put him in overwatch. That means his bolter gun is loaded and ready, and if anything moves in his line of sight he gets to take free shots at it.

No worries.

Your opponent flips the blip to reveal it is a swarm of genestealers, and they spill into the tightly packed corridor. They move faster than the marines. Much faster. They get six action points each, and they get to make free 90 degree turns as they advance, allowing them to dart through the maze at terrifying speed.

Your marine fires his bolter. You roll two dice. You need at least one six to kill the genestealer, but you roll double three. You miss. Even worse, the bolter jams when you roll doubles. Your marine frantically tries to unjam his gun.

His scream echoes through the corridors.

The rest of the team need to push on. They must push on. There is honour at stake... And their lives.

These dice hate me.

And if that sounds like something you would enjoy. Then you need to own a copy of Space Hulk. The fact it is one of the most beautifully produced games I've ever seen, with astounding artwork, thick cardboard tiles and tokens, and stunning plastic miniatures, is really just the icing on the cake. The big, bloody, meaty cake.

But wait. Wait.

There has to be a downside, right? No game is truly immaculate.

Space Hulk does indeed have faults.

For a start, you need to assemble the miniatures (and paint them if you want). I enjoy modelling and painting, so this isn't a problem for me (although my set is still unpainted after five years); but if you just want to break open the shrink wrap and play the game, better think again.

Terminator marines are cool.

While the miniatures are fantastic, they are also a bit cumbersome to use at times. For example, it is vitally important to know which direction miniatures are facing, but with the dynamic poses of the marines, this is not always easy. To be fair, I never had this problem (the rules state that where the miniature is looking represents the front of the model), but it is a fair criticism that the facing of each miniature is not as immediately obvious as it really should be.



Which way, exactly, am I going?

The genestealers might bother some people too. In older editions of Space Hulk, the genestealers tended to get their limbs tangled up during play. This time around, Games Workshop tried to minimise that problem by sculpting the genestealers at different heights and in different poses. Some of them are towering over the board on pillars, while others are bursting up through the floor. I think this is neat; but some people do not like the look of a genestealer running around dragging a piece of the ship with it.

He looks friendly enough... Shall we ask for directions?

And to be fair, some of the genestealer miniatures are a bit whacky. Four of them have bad sculpts and they only have three arms instead of four; and one of them looks like he is having fun sexy time with an iron girder.

Speaking of genestealers; playing as the aliens isn't anywhere near as fun as playing as the marines. Genestealers are all the same, with the exception of a boss monster called the Brood Lord, so options on any turn are sometimes limited. I enjoy the challenge of playing the genestealers, figuring out when to reveal blips, amassing my troops, and then watching the marine player panic. However, there is no denying that the marine player has more to do, and more to stress about.

That's a nice collection of skulls you have there.

And then there are the scenarios... Some of them are completely one-sided, making them a real challenge for one player (and one of them is basically broken, making it impossible for the marine player to lose). This makes it almost essential to swap sides after playing, so the other player gets to see what it is like when the shoe is on the other foot.

And that's it. If those things don't sound like things that would bother you, I think you should try this game out. In fact, I truly recommend Space Hulk to anyone who likes tense, atmospheric, puzzle-like games with lean rules and a strong science fiction theme.

Of course, some people might just refuse to buy it because... you know... Games Workshop.

Yeah, I couldn't really sign off without addressing the big faceless corporation in the room.

A lot of people dislike Games Workshop. A lot of people hate Games Workshop.

I don't.

I do believe they make very bad decisions. Often.

I believe they have lost touch, and I believe they are struggling. They built an empire that anyone would be proud of, and some of the richest, craziest fantasy and science fiction settings in gaming history. I would love to buy games in those worlds; but it just isn't possible most of the time. When they bother to release a board game, like Space Hulk, I buy it. The rest of the time, I just ignore them, and leave them sitting in their ivory towers making stupid mistakes, while their forward-thinking rivals gobble up the market share.

So no, I don't hate Games Workshop. If anything, I pity them.

The detail on the miniatures is exquisite.

In some ways, the company reminds me of those terminator marines, trudging through the shattered hulks. They are slow moving, set in their ways, and totally dedicated to a dying order. And as they advance relentlessly, their faster, smaller, more agile opponents swell in numbers, and occasionally make sneak attacks. One by one, the terminators fall, and their mission becomes more desperate. They want to turn back... They need to turn back... But the corridor is long, and they have travelled far along it.

And so they press on into darkness.

We all know how that story ends.

It ends with a jammed bolter, and radio static.

I Love a Good Bargain

I love a bargain. I'm one of those people who buys an extra bottle of milk he doesn't need, just because it's "buy one, get one half price." There's nothing quite like the satisfaction of kicking back with a long, cool glass of slightly gone-off milk, knowing you got it for marginally less than the usual sticker price.

My love of bargains explains why I spend so much time in charity shops searching for that elusive copy of Heroquest, and an equal amount of time in Poundland, hoping there might be some discontinued card game that has somehow turned up among all the broken toys and blind-packaged oddities.

And my love of bargains is why I bought Coin Age.

Coin Age is one of those games that came into existence following a successful Kickstarter campaign.

(You know, Kickstarter: that site where you pay a load of money and then, at an unspecified time in the future, someone sends you a box of disappointment.)

Normally, when I back something on Kickstarter I am pretty excited about the prospect of receiving it. Coin Age was the exception. I backed it solely because you could get the game delivered to your door for just $3. Okay, I paid $5, which was the suggested minimum amount, but I didn't have to... I love a bargain, but I'm not an asshole.

So, I dropped my $5, and then pretty much forgot all about this game. Which is just as well, because it was delayed by about six months. If I had been waiting expectantly for its arrival, I might have been a bit annoyed.

Then, this Saturday, after I had spent the day painting a garden fence (it was a big fence), I came into the house to find the postman had dropped off a little envelope with Coin Age printed on the front. Which was a nice surprise.

Postman's been.

And it's pretty cool considering what I paid.

Inside the envelope there is a plastic ziplock bag, a rule sheet, two punchboards of tokens (for people who don't want to play the game with real money), four sticker sheets (for people who fancy defacing their pocket change), two double-sided game boards the size of playing cards, and one game board made in plastic so you can slip it in your credit card wallet.

Isle Oyou... Get it?... I'LL OWE YOU! HAHAHAHA!

I admit, I wasn't quite as excited opening this as I was receiving my two Dark Darker Darkest Kickstarter boxes, but that is hardly surprising.

But yeah... It's all really nice. The punchboards are relatively thick, the game boards are good quality and nicely printed, and the rules are clear.

Money money money...

The game itself is a simple area control game, but it looks like it has some good strategy for such a compact title. I'm not going to review the game just yet, because I haven't played it. But I should be able to get some games in with Mrs Never Boring soon.

So, until then, I guess that's all I have to say.

Now, you'll have to excuse me. I left some milk out, and I really should go drink it...

Review - Ingenious: Travel Edition

Ingenious: Travel Edition
Published by The Green Board Game Co.
Designed by Reiner Knizia
For 2 players, aged 8 to adult

It isn't much to look at, I admit...

I've heard about this thing called a vacation, and recently I've been thinking it might be nice to try one.

As a novelist, freelance editor and writer, blogger, dad, and husband, free time isn't something I tend to have in huge quantities.

Now, don't get me wrong; I've done that thing where you go to another country. For example, for Christmas 2013, I took my daughter to Disneyland Paris. It was the most magical experience, and the look of sheer delight on my daughter's face as we passed through the main gates into a world of larger-than-life Disney characters and artificial snow is something I hope I never forget.

It even made going to France tolerable.

(I'm joking. I'm joking.)

(Nothing would make that tolerable.*)

However, going to Disneyland wasn't exactly a vacation. It was a week of running to get to different rides, running to beat other people to the queue to see the princesses, running to find somewhere to eat that wasn't booked solid, running to get a good spot before the parades started, and just running to fit as much as possible into each day.

Endless running.

I still have this recurring nightmare where Mickey Mouse chases me down a long corridor that goes on forever.

But that's besides the point.

The point is, when I was packing for my trip to Disneyland, I optimistically slotted a few games into my luggage, hoping that I would have some time to play games with my wife in the evening while my daughter slept.

What was I thinking? My daughter didn't sleep.

The games never even made it out of the luggage.

But one of the games I packed was Ingenious: Travel Edition. A cute, portable edition of the classic abstract game by Reiner Knizia.

Ingenious is a simple game in which players use tiles shaped like two hexagons fused together with a symbol on each hexagon. At any one time, a player has six pieces in hand, and on a turn, players simply place one piece on the board.

The cute playing pieces.

Scoring is just as straightforward. When you place a piece, each symbol has up to five adjacent spaces, and these represent the directions in which it is possible to score. You add up all the symbols in a continuous line, in each of the five directions, that match the symbol on the piece played. You score that many points in that colour.



A diagram for scoring, because my description isn't very good.

But here's where it gets really fun: At the end of the game, your final score is your lowest score out of the six different symbols. That means you need to constantly balance what you are doing. Sure, you could score 18 points in blue stars over the course of the game, but if you only score 10 purple rings, then your final score is 10.

More of those cute playing pieces.

The only other rule of note is that, if you score 18 points in any symbol, you get to shout "Ingenious" and place another piece, creating the opportunity to string together combos and really get ahead of your opponent.

And that's basically the whole game. Super streamlined, easy to teach, and about as clever as it gets.

Considering the game boils down to the simple act of placing a single tile, there is an incredible amount of strategy and tactics. Do you play a tile to block your opponent from scoring? Do you race to score lots of points in a single symbol in order to get bonus turns? Do you try to keep all your scores level so you can string together an epic turn where you hit 18 points with multiple symbols one after another?

And when it is your opponent's turn... Oh, the agony. That moment where you know the piece you want to play. You know where you want to play it.

And then your opponent reaches for a tile...

Not there. Don't place it there. Not there. No.

No...

AAARRRRGGGGHHHH!

Infuriating, hilarious, and yes... ingenious.

I have had my copy of Ingenious: Travel Edition for some time now. It was bought for me by a good friend, and I have played it a lot. It has a lovely moulded plastic board, with cute moulded pieces that lock into place so nothing moves around while you are travelling; and it has sweet scoring pegs that remind me of that old game Mastermind.

The board, moulded in plastic to prevent pieces sliding around.

Unfortunately, being a travel edition, everything is very small. The pegs are difficult to manipulate, and the playing pieces aren't big enough to feel substantial as you drop them onto the board.

Worst of all, the travel edition is restricted to just two players.

That is why I didn't hesitate to buy the "full-scale" version of Ingenious when I found it in one of my local charity shops (still sealed, and priced at just £3, which is silly). Since then, the travel edition hasn't had a look in, and to be fair, I cannot see myself fumbling around with those little pegs anymore.

As such, despite being a superb game, Ingenious: Travel Edition is not staying in my collection.

I mean, sure, I could keep it for when I go on a vacation sometime. But really, when is it likely I'm ever going to do that?




* Honestly, I am joking. My time in Disneyland Paris was an absolute joy, and the people there were amazing.

I'm going to ramble now... You don't need to read this; it has nothing to do with games.

Every day I queued with my daughter to see a princess. For anybody who has never done this, it involves waiting for around two to three hours in a long corridor with no seats. At the end of the corridor, there are two different screens, and behind each screen is a princess. You get to see one of them, and you do not get to pick.

My daughter had been pestering me to see Rapunzel every day.

Every day we saw Not-Rapunzel.

On the very last day, we got up to the screens, and the woman working the gate smiled and told us we would be going through the screen on the left. While we waited, I took the chance to talk to her, and explained that we really wanted to see Rapunzel, and so far we had not been able to. She smiled kindly at my daughter, and them motioned me towards the screen on the right. Not the one on the left.

We rounded the corner, and there was Rapunzel. My daughter nearly died on the spot. I almost burst into tears. And as Rapunzel chatted to my daughter (and my daughter explained how her favourite princess was Aerial!), the woman who had guided us to this screen popped her head around to see how much happiness her small act of kindness had generated.

I never got to thank that woman. I don't even know her name, and I doubt she will ever read this. And she has probably done the same thing for thousands of families, and for her it might not have been a big deal. But that woman made my daughter's holiday complete, and she enabled me to do something that every dad wants to do for his kids... Make a dream come true.