In Taluva, your objective is to establish your territory by building settlements on a volatile, volcanic island in the South Pacific. Each player’s turn consists of two steps:

1. Draw a random tile of three hexes, one depicting a volcano and the other two depicting two less-fiery terrains (grassland, jungle, lake, rock, or sand) and place it on the play area. You may place it adjacent to any hex, or you may place it on top of already-placed tiles as long as you observe the various restrictions: the volcano hex must be placed on top of another volcano hex; there cannot be any empty space beneath the tile; the volcano must “flow” in a different direction than the one it is covering; and you can’t bury an entire settlement. Also, if a hex has a tower or temple built on it, you cannot cover that hex, and the maximum height of a hex is three tiles — although orchestrating a scenario in which you could play a level-four tile is unlikely anyway. Any huts buried by a tile are removed from the game and not returned to their owners’ reserves.
2. After placing your tile, you must place one or more buildings via four specific options for doing so: you may place one hut on any vacant (non-volcano) one-height hex; you may place a tower on a vacant (non-volcano) hex that is three tiles high and adjacent to one of your settlements that does not currently contain a tower; you may place a temple on a vacant (non-volcano) hex adjacent to one of your settlements that spans at least three other hexes and does not currently contain a temple; or you can expand one of your existing settlements into all vacant neighboring hexes of a single terrain by placing a number of huts in each hex equal to its height. You cannot choose an option for which you have insufficient buildings in your reserve, and if you cannot place any buildings then you are eliminated from the remainder of the game.

Play continues until either the supply of volcano tiles runs out or one player exhausts his supply of two of the three types of building. In the case of the former (and more likely) condition, the winner is whoever placed the most temples, with towers and huts breaking further ties in a similar manner. The player who manages to achieve the second condition claims the “premature” victory.

At first glance it seems like Taluva has a pile of rules that restrict your choices, but game play simplifies once you realize the implied rule of “you can’t place one tile completely on top of another one” — since every volcano hex “flows” the same way on every tile, the only way to achieve the “different flow” condition is to have the new tile span two or three lower tiles. Once that becomes apparent, the other, more intuitive mechanics quickly fade into the background (with the assistance of useful rules summary cards), allowing you to concentrate on actually playing the game.

Taluva is a quick game — even with three of our four players never having played before, our first game only took about an hour; more experienced players should be able to complete a game in about 30-40 minutes. Your choice of tactics is subtle but important, as there is no random element beyond the types of non-volcano terrain on each hex; everything else is dependant on the actions and decisions of yourself and the other players, which makes for more satisfying strategy and conflict. Taluva is also a good-looking game, with the full-color, lightly textured tiles being made out of very thick cardboard and the four sets of wooden buildings painted in red, yellow, brown, and white to make them stand out on the predominant greens on the tiles. The choice to use cardboard instead of wood or plastic for the tiles mitigates both the overall cost and overall weight of the game without sacrificing durability; the wooden building pieces are rather small, but that shouldn’t be too much of a problem for most families/playgroups. Overall, Taluva‘s strategic emphasis, quick game play, and general aesthetics combine to offer a rewarding experience that doesn’t overstay its welcome.

Which Renaissance aristocrat can inspire the greatest intellectual works and gain the most prestige amongst his peers? That’s the premise behind The Princes of Florence (Princes), a game that combines auctions, restricted actions, limited resources, and a wide variety of options into seven turns of possibilities.

The strategy inherent in Princes begins before the actual gameplay, as you get to choose your starting roster of three Professions out of the four cards dealt to you; each Profession is inspired by different buildings, landscapes, and freedoms that you can potentially add to your palazzo over the course of your seven turns. Once that’s taken care of and you’ve received your starting Florins, the game begins.

Each turn is divided into two phases. In the Auction phase, each player bids on one of seven items that can aid them in their journey of inspiration; this is the only way these items can be acquired, so you will only be able to obtain seven of them over the course of the game — choose wisely. Further coplicating the matter is that once a specific item has been won, no other player can win that item on that turn, presenting a potential opportunity to deny your rivals of a vital piece of their strategy… that is, if you can outbid them. There’s also a limited number of each item available, so don’t miss your chance to pick up something you really need.

After the final player wins an item at the Auction, each player enters his Action Phase, wherein they have two opportunities with which to complete five different actions. These actions include completing the Work of one (or two) of your Professions, which is the primary method for gaining Prestige — and the only way to earn more Florins for future purchases… but at the expense of some of your hard-earned Prestige. Of course, unless you use actions to add buildings (if you have space) and freedoms (if any are left), the Works produced in your palazzo won’t be worth very much, so you need to plan carefully. As an additional complication, each turn carries an ever-increasing “minimum Work value”; if you can’t meet that minimum value, then you can’t produce a Work that turn… maybe you should invest in your palazzo (or a Bonus card to goose a future Work’s value) instead?

Once the final turn has ended, there is one final phase in which any Prestige Cards (purchased at Auction) may come into play. These can be powerful, game-swinging effects that might add from three to as much as eight Prestige points to your score if you can meet the conditions on the card. Picking one of these up early will allow you to tailor your plans to meet their conditions, but at the expense of a potentially vital stage of early palazzo development. After these last-minute adjustments, whoever has the most Prestige is the winner.

As you can see, Princes offers a dizzying array of options and a tormentingly limited number of chances to take the ones you want (or need). There are strategic decisions that have to be made at every turn, and making the wrong choice could result in a sacrifice of Prestige in order to fill your meager coffers with enough Florins to proceed. It’s a delicate balance that may seem overwhelmingly complicated at first, but most players pick up on the basics quickly and are soon in the clutches of the varied strategy provided by Princes.

The physical appearance of Princes isn’t quite as intricate as the actual gameplay, however. There is a substantial amount of text, including three different types of cards (actually four, but Recruiting cards are all identical), and some rules aren’t outlined on the players’ palazzo sheets, so additional reading for reminders might be necessary on occasion. The other pieces are mostly lightweight cardboard with basic illustrations; the Florins are a little thicker, because they get handled more often. Landscapes and buildings are arranged in Tetris-like structures that must be fitted into your palazzo’s limited space when purchased; additionally, buildings cannot be adjacent to each other unless you have won your second Builder at Auction, adding yet another layer to the game’s strategy. The final components are colored wooden markers for keeping score on the track and for marking which Auction items have been won by which player.

Of course, Princes isn’t out to win any beauty contests. The very premise of the game is the completion of great intellectual works (ok… some of those have aesthetic roots), so naturally its greatest strength is its intellectual challenge. While this may provide something of a barrier to the more casual gamer, the depth of play offered by Princes will reward anyone willing to give it a shot (or two).

In the American Old West — or at least in movies set in that time — sheriffs and deputies faced off against ruthless outlaws and renegades in winner-take-all horseback gunfights set against the dusty backdrop of saloons and poker games. Bang! recreates those hallmarks of the so-called “spaghetti westerns” (and their Italian origins) in a fast-paced card game for 4-7 players.

To begin, each player is dealt a character card; these represent parodies of various Western legends, with names such as “Willy the Kid”, “El Gringo”, and “Calamity Janet”. Each character has a special power, as in Cosmic Encounter, and the number of hits the player can take before being eliminated; your current “hit” total is also your maximum hand size. The second cards dealt out are the role cards, most of which are kept hidden from the other players; the sheriff is revealed and gains an extra “hit”. The other characters are mostly outlaws (who win collectively when the sheriff is killed), but at least one of them is the deputy and secretly allied with the sheriff in his quest to rid the town of its unsavory element(s). In larger games there is also a Renegade, whose unenviable goal is to be the last man standing. Finally, everyone is dealt a starting hand of three cards.

Once the set-up is out of the way, play begins with the sheriff. On your turn, you draw two cards from the deck; cards include various pieces of equipment (such as guns and horses), “Bang!” cards, “Missed!” cards, and various special events. You then play as many cards as you wish, with the exception of only being able to play one “Bang!” card under normal circumstances. Certain cards are restricted by range (how many seats away you’re sitting from your intended target), which is usually where most of the equipment comes into play. If someone plays a “Bang!” card on you, you take a hit unless you respond with a “Missed!” card of your own. When you’re done playing cards, you must discard down to your current life total and then play passes to the left.

All of the cards have symbols on them that represent what they do. A few are too complicated and have a symbol referring to the instructions, but these are rare. Certain cards (and certain characters’ abilities) are centered around the “Draw!” mechanic: each card also has a playing-card suit/value in one corner. When a player has to “Draw!” he flips over the top card of the deck and compares its suit/value to the card’s requirements to see what happens.

Obviously, most of the action is centered around the sheriff, as the majority of the other players want him dead. If anyone kills an outlaw — even another outlaw — that person draws a three-card reward. If the sheriff mistakenly kills his deputy (or one of the two deputies in a seven-player game), then he suffers a stiff penalty. The game ends when one of the surviving characters achieves their victory condition.

A large amount of this game’s strategy comes from bluffing your role and trying to figure out where the alliances of the others lie. Deputies rarely fire on the sheriff, but if the outlaws don’t (or can’t, due to range problems) shoot at him, then the sheriff may wind up hurting those who are actually helping him. Further complicating matters is the Renegade, who will usually masquerade as a deputy by helping the sheriff pick off the outlaws (who will win if the sheriff dies before they all do).

Once your family/group gets past the initial hurdle of learning what that the various symbols mean and how the special cards work, Bang! proceeds quickly and smoothly. It’s probably not destined to be a centerpiece of game night, but it can serve as a nice diversion or as a warm-up for the Big Game.

In typical “designer” board game fashion, Goa is a game wherein the players compete to build some archaic and ridiculously themed contrivance using far too many pieces of cardboard and wood. Or to be more specific, in Goa you compete to construct colonial era spice trading empires.

You’ll obtain both plantations and colonies that produce the pepper, ginger, nutmeg, cloves, and cinnamon. You will then use those spices in a number of ways to increase the power of your empire obtaining better abilities in the game, as well as coveted victory points.

Goa is very iconic of modern board gaming as it represents the best and the worst the industry has to offer. The game play is deep and delightfully subtle while the theme is dry, disinteresting, and clumsily implemented. You’re left simultaneously challenged by its complexity while disgusted by the large collection or arbitrary cardboard that litters the table by the end of the night.

The anal retentive amongst you will delight in the opportunity to keep everything straight and tidy. Fans of other RA