And they like it, too.
I'm new to boardgames, though I shall nonetheless adopt a posh tophat-monocle cadence for the rest of my very first review. Lets get started, shall we?
*Hem* *Hem*
Oh good heavens, I need a posh cough drop... Jeeves!
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That's better
(Warning: It is strongly advised to read another review first: this is not a straight-to-the-point review; largely because pointy things are vulgar.)
I'm an ardent admirer of games with great theme, depth, and multiple integrated mechanics. In general, games on either end of the theme-mechanic spectrum fall into the categories of Ameritrash (an underclass cesspool) and Eurogames (a positively delightful cornucopia of wondrous dreams (sans soul)), both with games varying greatly on the depth-complexity scale. (Ameritrash is deep in the sense that the raw sewage clings on to your coattails. Harummph!)
Here's an elaborately illustrated scale for your graphic-whore needs:
Ameritrash|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|Eurogames
Poo|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--Delightful cornucopia of wondrous dreams
So, imagine my utmost suprise when I chanced upon a game in the Royal Society of BoardGames & Tea (RSBGT), one which did not lie on either end of the Poo-Delight spectrum. Instead, it was positioned in the very center, suspended in an infantile equilibrium, transcendent and detached, the archetypal "Delightful Poo"!
I have posh-i-bly discovered an enigmatic, hitherto undocumented species, a genetic anomaly, a proverbial rabbit in the Precambrian!
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Posh Monocled Scholar: "Milady, thy beauty doth rob mine poor tongue of speech..."
Dungeon Lords: "Thou dost flatter me, ser knight.![kiss]()
"
P.M.S.: "Nay, truly, thy smile doth stop mine heart."
Dungeon Lords: "Hee hee hee.![modest]()
"
P.M.S.: "Which is why I shall now dissect you."
Dungeon Lords: "![gulp]()
"
Well then, let’s start with the organs, shall we?
Organs/Or Components, You Pansy:
I was going to publish a series of polaroids for the components, though not before Jeeves pointed out the community's revulsion towards blood and gore. Even though I ultimately conceded to his point, the gentlemen and ladies who aren't mollycoddled, lily-livered nonentities can always proceed to the image section of Dungeon Lords, where there's a delightful plethora of 322 pictures ready for scientific perusal.
a) The tokens:
Colourful, elegant, and easily distinguished from one another. The choice to make card-sized tokens instead of cards for monsters receives a tip of the hat from me, as it facilitates prehension, thus greatly expediting gameplay. It's also a rather artistic touch.
A word of warning however: punching out the pieces can be a fairly hazardous business, for you risk ripping flaps of tissue if you're too hasty. It's always wise to carry a sharp scalpel (or scissors) for these iffy moments. Don't be daunted by a few unfortunate tears, however, as they're actually bare noticeable, courtesy of the immersive system.
b) The cards:
There are a total of 94 quaint little cards (45mm x 68mm), and like the tokens, their functions are to be determined later when extensive tests have been conducted. Through the powers of prescience (Jeeves says that it means I have a first sense, which is a rather confusing praise), however, I've discerned that they perform their tasks beautifully, with minimalistic semiotic iconography designed to expedite cognition.
The cards chafe easily, so it's recommended to have them plastinated as soon as possible (or alternatively, you can do that post-modernist hokum known as sleeving. *Sniff*, the lengths they go to to make things affordable for the proles.)
c) Wood (Yes, I realize that it's female. What's your point, Jeeves?):
There are 4 sets of 3 wooden minions in each colour, 30 square food particles tainted green with chyme and 30 gold coins. I ordered 5000 sets of Dungeon Lords upon this serendipitous discovery, and imagine my horrible chagrin when I realized that the "gold" coins were mere wooden tokens painted in gold! I had the last laugh, however, when my 5000 negative ratings sent Dungeon Lords crashing from rank 1 to 67.
There's also a starting player token, which is frankly nothing more than a chunk of cylindrical wood. However, a sticker is supplied to don the wood with a slasher smile, which is rather unnerving, and I perpetually dread the creature's annual visits to my dungeon. Do not be fooled into thinking that this is a "cute" game, as the horrors which lie in wait are not for the faint-hearted.
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The horror...
Strangely enough, Jeeves did not protest against the above polaroid of raw, abject terror. Curiouser and curiouser...
d) Imps:
I've also uncovered a cache of plastic imp miniatures in the bowels. I immediately drew a parallel to Athena's birth from Zeus's brain as the embodiment of pure wisdom. Perhaps imps are the embodiment of pure crappiness? The brownish hue certainly does not weaken the premise of my hypothesis. Further shitmus tests will have to be conducted.
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A healthy pile of imps. Jeeves says that it’s okay due to their doubtful status in the anatomy.
e) Congealed blood:
There's always some leftover cubes of congealed blood (approximately 40). They're strangely transparent, so I thought to give them a mention.
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Blood congealed for vivisection and educational purposes (which always makes it okay).
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Hematochezia (again, for education)
e) The gameboards:
There are a total of 7 boards: the central board, the distant lands board, the progress board (flips over to become the combat board) and 4 player boards(which may be folded to serve as dummy players). It's immediately apparent what functions these boards serve, what with the amazing illustrations (intravenous tattoos are all the rage these days) of publicans, mountain ranges, underground metropolises and even a camp for the Paladin (which is, apparently, an alpha white blood cell.)
Break for Tea and Component Breakdown:
*Takes a sip of Earl Grey*
Phew, how posh-i-tively tiring. Anyhoo, I have to say, the components are fantastic! A lot of thought was clearly given to the art design, the weight of which ranges wildly from Randy Jackson (a man of few words… or just a very limited vocabulary) to Michelangelo, satisfying both cognitive and aesthetic requirements in order to enhance the gaming experience. The only issues are with card durability and the horrible albino insert, both of which can be solved with plastination (Proles Instead Get: sleeves) and bottles of formaldehyde (PIG: ziplock bags).
In terms of both quality and quantity, I give this a tip of the hat!
Component quality:
8.5/10 Posh Point Average (PPA).
(Dis)section 101 tips: Punch carefully, and remember to isolate the slasher smile sticker before you lose it amongst all the innards and gore!
Flavour Text:
Meanwhile, in the the mad scientist P.M.S.’s lab…
After an hour of extensive experimentation, I have discovered that the creature has a very alien anatomy. It would appear that there is a central immunity system and paradoxically mutual parasites which are located in different cavities of the body. Ostensibly, the parasitic creatures dig vascular canals by drawing on the body's resources, triggering attacks from the immunity system, thus indirectly fueling the cardiovascular system! When the parasitic dungeon collapses, it is reconstructed by the immunity system (and vice versa) in a perpetual cycle of constructive parasitism.
It's easier to explain by distilling the entire concept into a series of phases and processes, which we shall henceforth dub as: Gameplay. In fact, do let’s pretend that this isn’t an anachronistic bunny mutant, but rather a proletarian “boardgame”. It should definitely help the proles (that’s you) with conceptualizing the theory!
Gameplay:
The Evilometer:
This is a rather central feature of the "boardgame", so I shall get it out of the way right at the onset.
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The evilometer is, quite frankly, one of my favourite mechanisms in the "game". Reputation is a resource, and every bit of reputation you gain moves you down on the evilometer, making you posher. Paying reputation or gaining evil moves you up on the evilometer, making you more menacing (a prole would say, and I quote: "more badass".)
Both being nice and being evil have their benefits, which we shall see as we move along. In an orderly fashion.
The Paladin:
The paladin is, unlike the other pesky adventurers, remarkably refined and of impeccable poise and decorum. In fact, we often share a cup of tea over the weekends, discussing art and posh literature. Congruent to the Arthurian concepts of honour, however, such friendly courtesies do not extend to the battle field. The paladin and his disproportionately large sword have laid waste to many a dungeon, including that of mine. Despite these little disputes, the old chap and I never fail to reconcile over a nice cup of Earl Grey.
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The sphere things signify how much trap damage he may block... The crystals indicate his mana, the hearts indicate how much health he can heal and the arrow means that he's by the default position at the front of the party.
Once you've reached the paladin threshold on your evilometer, the paladin immediately arrives at the gates of your dungeon. The paladin is armed with thief's ability to prevent trap damage, the priest's ability to heal the party, the warrior's default position at the vanguard and the wizard's ability to cast spells. Needless to say, the paladin is a force to be reckoned with, and one should not take his arrival with idle concern.
Point scoring:
This is another thing to get out of the way. Points may be earned by building tunnels, rooms, hiring monsters, imprisoning adventurers and all of that hullabaloo. Points may be lost by having your posh dungeon tiles conquered or incurring debt.
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The 7 titles are another way of gaining points. The most evil player receives the title "The Lord of Dark Deeds" whereas the richest player receives is the "Lord of Riches". Each title grants 3 points, or 2 points if shared, making title points definite sums to be reckoned with.
Getting Started:
Randomly select the player order. Do this by spinning the slasher smile token, and whichever victim it settles its murderous eyes upon shall spontaneously burst into flames. And also they'll start the first phase for that season.
The 4 Seasons:
Perhaps you proles are unfamiliar with the concept, but there are four seasons every year, and in Dungeon Lords, there are 2 years, which means a total of 8 seasons. Still with me?
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The purple wooden token marks the "game"'s progress through the seasons
Winter is the first season of the year, and things move along at an understandably sluggish pace. In fact, this is the only season where there are no events or adventurers (proles) lining up to ransack your posh dungeon. The adventurers (proles) rather spend their insignificant days celebrating barbaric rituals such as Christmas, where they apparently sit around a tree boxing and drinking raw eggs. *sniff*
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An amazon celebrating Christmas
Every season (with the exception of winter) has 5 phases:
The Phases:
Phase 1: Assigning Orders
There are 8 different orders:
(In Sequence)
1) Obtain Food
2) Obtain Reputation (becoming less evil and more posh)
3) Mine Tunnels
4) Mine Gold
5) Hire Imps
6) Buy Traps
7) Hire Monsters
8) Buy Rooms
Each player always has 2 inaccessible orders placed face up on their board. Inaccessible orders are the second and third orders assigned in the previous season, and thus can no longer be performed this season. After factoring in the inaccessible orders of other players and much ruminating (ad hoc hypothesis that proles possess the faculties necessary for the process of thought) they then select 3 other orders to be lain face down.
When all orders have been selected, the starting player (the one who possesses that starting player token) reveals his first order, followed by the prole to his left. When all first orders have been revealed, the starting player reveals his second order and so on.
Whenever an order is revealed, a minion of the same colour is removed from the office and placed on the corresponding location on the central board. Here's a pictorial example:
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As you can see, the red player has the starting player token and therefore goes first. The two orders in the top row are inaccessible orders, whereas the three orders in the bottom row are assigned orders, where minions travel on to the map to realize their master's dark whims. How they manage to slip past the V for Vendetta token remains a mystery.
This is where the meat (posh meat, obviously) of the first phase lies. For example: The first minion who reaches the trap store has to pay 1 gold. The second minion gets it for free instead! The third player has to buy 2 traps or nothing at all, and since every location on the map only has 3 slots, the 4th minion doesn't get to do anything and has to return to stand on its order (see the green player's minion in the above illustration).
As you can see, a lot of second-guessing, foresight and ESP are required for this particular phase, dusted with a sprinkling of intrigue and deception.
Predominant Mechanics:
Innovative worker placement. Card management.
Phase 2: Executing Orders
Now that all the orders have been revealed, it's time to execute them.
If it still isn't clear enough (sigh, proles) how orders are executed, do take a look at the image below.
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The minion on the first slot pays one gold and gets 2 food.
The minion on the second slot pays one reputation and gets 3 food.
The minion on the third slot pays 2 reputation and gets 3 food + 1 gold.
This phase is where you find out if your first phase (order assignments/minion positions) went according to plan. If so, congratulations. Execute your orders as you planned. Otherwise:
If you find your minion in an uncomfortable position (yes, I know you empathize with their plight, Jeeves), you'll have to readjust your grand strategy and make quick tactical alterations. Should you bend over backwards and suffer a few losses, recant your orders to facilitate rallying in the next phase/season, or switch tracks completely by focusing on another resource instead?
For example:
Falling short of getting a free trap, your minion landed on the third slot. Should you pay 2 gold and buy the traps, when tax day is coming in the very next season? It also happens that tax day is in fall, and you need at least 1 trap to arm your dungeon against those pesky proles. Which can you afford more, the 2 gold, or the action point of reordering traps in fall?
A completely different way to handle this situation would be to forego the traps, and not to reorder them in the next season. Instead you may focus on getting the toughest possible monster (for example, a vampire) and playing the high reputation cost to your advantage, steering you clear of the priest (which are immune to vampires) and attracting the tougher thief to your dungeon (which has 0 traps). Risky risky, as monsters in the publican are completely random.
A second example:
The mint room (gold producing room) that you were vying for has been snatched up by your rival Dungeon Lord, and you are instead left with the souvenir shop (also a gold producing room, with different topographical requirements). The catch is that the souvenir shop has to be placed on the upper level of your dungeon, and the only available location suitable for the room is next to the entrance! Are you confident that you won't lose a vital production room when the adventurers attack? Are you confident that you won't lose more than one tile?
Or you could just buy it, and waste an action point the next turn to mine more tunnels, diluting the chances of the adventurers reaching your room. Is it worth the extra taxes, and consequently the extra gold you'll have to mine?
Predominant Mechanics:
Resource Management. Tile management.
Phase 3: Production
If you have enough imps (or trolls, which function as both worker and monster) left over from Phase 2 (where imps were used to mine tunnels and gold) then you can assign them to various rooms to produce or reproduce. Production rooms are only obtained in the first year, and it's always wise to have at least one such room to tide you through the resource intensive second year.
This is a fairly straightforward phase, with mostly linear decisions. Even so, the contingency of analysis paralysis still exists, especially for our indecisive flip-flopper friends:
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Say what you like about the man, but he's aged quite well
Predominant Mechanics:
Resource Management.
Phase 4: Events
Event tiles for the next season are always revealed. For example, if spring began, events and adventurers for summer would be revealed.
There are 3 kinds of events:
Taxes:
For every two tunnels you own, you pay 1 gold; rounded up.
Payday:
Hiring monsters costs resources such as food, reputation, gold, traps and even other monsters. On payday, pay them the same salary when hiring them. If you fall short of the terms of your agreement, they leave your dungeon and rampage through the city, costing you one reputation for each monster unpaid.
Special Events:
There are a total of 9 special events. Whenever a special event tile is revealed, a card from the special event deck is also revealed. Special events include:
Earthquake: Destroys 2 tunnels.
Title Envy: For every exclusive title in your possession, gain 1 evil.
Witch Hunts: Discard a monster or gain 3 evil. Alternatively, you may fling darts at Ann Coulter and lose one evil if you get her nose.
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Only three tries, mind you
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The events play a major role in the game's randomness, always having huge effects on "gaming" strategies as players plan their way around minimalizing taxes and the purchase of monsters. Special events require far more ratiocination however, as their disastrous effects often encroach on your posterior in the most counter-intuitive and convoluted of ways. (Or as the proles say and I quote: "Sneak up behind you and fuck you up the ass".)
Phase 5: Adventurer Assignment
This is the phase where the most vulgar of adventurers are assigned to the evilest Dungeon Lords, whereas the less offensive proles are assigned to the more tasteful and posh of dungeons.
Sounds simple and straightforward, doesn't it? It does? (Proles...)
*Sighs and adjusts monocle*
The weakness of adventurers is very, very subjective, and more often than not you will find an entire rabble of adventurers of the same ranking waiting to be assigned.
For example:
A Dungeon Lord who has 2 vampires is the second most evil and will obtain the priest this round. This is bad, because vampires cannot attack priests; so the Dungeon Lord should attempt to gain more evil to become the evilest player, thus landing himself the thief. This is far less crippling as he lacks traps which revolve around damage-infliction and his vampires can take out the thief in a jiffy.
A second example:
The third most evil Dungeon Lord had sent minions to spy at the university during summer. She finds that the first spell is Blind Rage, rendering her Dragon useless. There is already a mage at her front door, and if things go according to plan she can eliminate the mage with a Poisoned Meal. Unfortunately, being the third most evil player meant that a warrior would be assigned to her dungeon, and because warriors are always immediately assigned to the front of the party, her plan is foiled and she will unnecessarily lose one Dungeon Tile, costing her 2 points. Instead, she should increase her evil and land the priest, who will be assigned to the back of the party and whose heal will be cancelled by the Dragon's fiery breath.
End Of Season
When phase 5 of a season has ended, pass the starting player token to the player on your left. Thank goodness.
Differences in the second year
a) The second year sees more focus on victory points, such as the rush to purchase rooms which provide said points and the attempt to achieve the 7 titles.
b) It also sees stronger monsters and adventurers, and certain rooms even provide attack bonuses to monsters.
c) Being the last year, economic projections are unnecessary in fall, causing everyone to struggles for the best traps and monsters. This is very a good time to sneakily steal away some titles, at the expense of a conquered dungeon tile or two.
d) The paladin this year is even more fearsome than the last; his diction is even more precise and his dress is even more impeccable. Furthermore, he has displayed a natural flair for the harp, the bagpipes and even ballet to boot. Oh, and Jeeves says that he's better in combat, but who cares about that, really?
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The old chap's real name is actually Wally
e) Production is even more intensive this year, as you may double produce by similarly doubling the amount of workers.
f) The trap store is also more flexible, as you now have an extra choice whenever you buy a trap.
Combat:
Combat is actually fairly straightforward. At the end of every year, those lower class barbarians envious of your posh-i-ness invade your dungeon; whereas you strive to knock them out with traps and monsters and then throwing them in prison. Which is just as well or these heartless barbarians will whitewash your walls. Oh. The horror.
(Actually, you want the proles to do your paintjobs, it's always much easier than doing it yourself. I mean really, who do you think painted the Buckingham Palace, the Queen? Just remember never to make it too easy on them, or they'll sense that something's up.)
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The Entrance Hall is already done, but it's really rather shoddy work. We'll have to make the prisoners repaint over the next week.
Combat is divided into 4 rounds, represented by 4 random combat cards (you can use your minions to spy on these during any season). There's a total of 18 combat cards, with 9 for each year.
Sequence of actions during a combat round:
1. Use traps (One trap maximum. Payment of one gold required when used in rooms. A special room allows two traps to be installed for free.)
2. Wizards (and Wally) cast a fast spell.
3. Send monsters to attack (In addition to any number of ghosts: One monster maximum. 2 in rooms.)
4. Priest (and Wally) heal the team.
5. Wizards (and Wally) cast a slow spell.
6. The party tries to conquer the dungeon tile. If they succeed, flip the tile over and send them to conquer (paint) somewhere else for the next combat round.
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4 rounds of combat - 1,2,3,4
Each combat card describes the spells that will be casted by wizards and paladins during that round. The spell of the first round always consumes 1 mana, the second round consumes 2, the third round consumes 3 and so on. The droplets of blood on the bottom-right corner represent fatigue, which is the damage the adventurers will inflict upon themselves by trying to conquer (paint) the tunnel or room. If the first adventurer has 1 health left and conquering requires 3 fatigue, the adventurer dies and the remaining 2 fatigue is passed on to the next adventurer.
If all adventurers are eliminated by fatigue, they may not conquer (paint) the tunnel or room.
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More combat cards images from the Royal Society of Boardgame & Tea (RSBGT).
Spells illustrated with lightning gilded sapphires are fast spells: cast after traps have been triggered; whereas spells illustrated with veined green jades are slow spells: cast after the monsters have attacked.
Jeeves, TEA!
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I have to say, there's no tea like posh tea
Well, that sums up the "game"! The Dungeon Lord with the highest amount of victory points at the end of the game wins! Do remember to record your scores for every "game" in a notebook, so after 20 or so games you may convert the numbers into line graphs, which is always very amusing!
The Posh Thoughts
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I do hope that you've gotten the gist of the "game", as my intention was to take you on a ride through the whole "gaming" process, thus giving you an idea of what the "game" plays like, what it feels like, and how terribly proletarian you are.
Everyone has their own taste in games, after all, as the proles say: to each their own, even though they only say that to convince themselves that they don't have terrible taste; but to each their own.
I do hope that I've finally either persuaded or dissuaded you from buying this game.
Jeeve's Thoughts
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Does this game have any depth or theme?
As is evident from my master's unnecessarily lengthy review, this game has depth. Great depth, in fact, and it comes from the mellifluous blend of different mechanics into a huge thematic whole. One honestly does feel like they're building a dungeon to defend against the yearly raids by a ragtag party of hooligans and ragamuffins.
What about player interaction and downtime?
Player interaction, while social and indirect, is still significant. Apart from the yearly dungeon raids, there is virtually no downtime, and even then, all players are always interested to find out what goes on in the opponent's dungeons.
Is the rulebook any good?
It is, frankly, quite brilliant, and Master Posh loves it. The humor is zany and appropriately applied to avoid being intrusive; instead, it helps the reader to remember the rules, more often than not eliciting chuckles in reminiscence (Master Posh chuckles politely, of course). There have certainly been complaints about bad humor, though one must note that humor is subjective, and since the majority of readers enjoyed the humor, one can only assume a bad sense of humor or Dunning-Kruger on the the dissenters' behalf.
The following is the namesake of my Master's review:
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(Posh here, I'm still curious as to how the magic works. Honestly, what in the world does a romantic dinner have to do with the spell? Jeeves claims that he doesn't know either, but I just don't trust the sly old fox.)
But isn't it hard to find specific sections in the rules?
It's a definite possibility, though my Master Posh is too intelligent to require perusing the rules twice, so it is of no import to him.
How long does the game last?
10 hours. To be fair, however, Master Posh does have to take a 4-hour trauma therapy whenever the starting player token arrives at his dungeon.
How well does the game scale?
It does scale quite well, actually. 4 players are, without a doubt, the optimal number for Dungeon Lords. A 2-player game is still enjoyable, and even introduces different strategies, whereas 3-player games can even be just as fun as 4-player games. Do note that we play 3-player games with certain house rules:
The assigned orders of the dummy player are to be lain face down; the dummy is also to receive the starting player token and has to place minions in turn just like the human players. It certainly bolsters the excitement, as the dummy player can be rather unpredictable.
How's the replayability?
It is excellent. You will most certainly get every single penny's worth out of this... *uh hum* "boardgame". As is manifest from my master's review, the game is constituted of many different processes, whilst the variability in events only further adds to the replay value. Thus far, we have played over 15 games (approximately 23 hours) in the span of 2 weeks, and yet it remains as enjoyable as ever. Surely it would be far more replayable if the games were splayed out across a larger timescale.
Is this your favourite game?
Master Posh's favourite game will always be my favourite game. So, no, as Master Posh favours Arkham Horror over Dungeon Lords whenever there is adequate time.
How would you rate this game?
I present to you my master's ratings:
Component Quality: 8.5 PPA
Gameplay: 10 PPA
Theme: 10 PPA
Base Replayability: 10 PPA
Interaction: 9 PPA
Fake Gold Coins: -10 PPA
Starting Player Token: -30 PPA
Game PPA: 1.071428571
Forget the snob, I wanna know what's your rating?
I am unable to comment on that. If it counts for anything, however, it has been years since Master Posh last gave a game the rating of over 1.05802934514. So, boldly speaking, this counts as a 10.
Why do you even work for that guy?
Well, the sex is good.
Thanks for reading!
I'm new to boardgames, though I shall nonetheless adopt a posh tophat-monocle cadence for the rest of my very first review. Lets get started, shall we?
*Hem* *Hem*
Oh good heavens, I need a posh cough drop... Jeeves!
That's better
(Warning: It is strongly advised to read another review first: this is not a straight-to-the-point review; largely because pointy things are vulgar.)
I'm an ardent admirer of games with great theme, depth, and multiple integrated mechanics. In general, games on either end of the theme-mechanic spectrum fall into the categories of Ameritrash (an underclass cesspool) and Eurogames (a positively delightful cornucopia of wondrous dreams (sans soul)), both with games varying greatly on the depth-complexity scale. (Ameritrash is deep in the sense that the raw sewage clings on to your coattails. Harummph!)
Here's an elaborately illustrated scale for your graphic-whore needs:
Ameritrash|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|Eurogames
Poo|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--Delightful cornucopia of wondrous dreams
So, imagine my utmost suprise when I chanced upon a game in the Royal Society of BoardGames & Tea (RSBGT), one which did not lie on either end of the Poo-Delight spectrum. Instead, it was positioned in the very center, suspended in an infantile equilibrium, transcendent and detached, the archetypal "Delightful Poo"!
I have posh-i-bly discovered an enigmatic, hitherto undocumented species, a genetic anomaly, a proverbial rabbit in the Precambrian!
Posh Monocled Scholar: "Milady, thy beauty doth rob mine poor tongue of speech..."
Dungeon Lords: "Thou dost flatter me, ser knight.
"P.M.S.: "Nay, truly, thy smile doth stop mine heart."
Dungeon Lords: "Hee hee hee.
"P.M.S.: "Which is why I shall now dissect you."
Dungeon Lords: "
"Well then, let’s start with the organs, shall we?
Organs/Or Components, You Pansy:
I was going to publish a series of polaroids for the components, though not before Jeeves pointed out the community's revulsion towards blood and gore. Even though I ultimately conceded to his point, the gentlemen and ladies who aren't mollycoddled, lily-livered nonentities can always proceed to the image section of Dungeon Lords, where there's a delightful plethora of 322 pictures ready for scientific perusal.
a) The tokens:
Colourful, elegant, and easily distinguished from one another. The choice to make card-sized tokens instead of cards for monsters receives a tip of the hat from me, as it facilitates prehension, thus greatly expediting gameplay. It's also a rather artistic touch.
A word of warning however: punching out the pieces can be a fairly hazardous business, for you risk ripping flaps of tissue if you're too hasty. It's always wise to carry a sharp scalpel (or scissors) for these iffy moments. Don't be daunted by a few unfortunate tears, however, as they're actually bare noticeable, courtesy of the immersive system.
b) The cards:
There are a total of 94 quaint little cards (45mm x 68mm), and like the tokens, their functions are to be determined later when extensive tests have been conducted. Through the powers of prescience (Jeeves says that it means I have a first sense, which is a rather confusing praise), however, I've discerned that they perform their tasks beautifully, with minimalistic semiotic iconography designed to expedite cognition.
The cards chafe easily, so it's recommended to have them plastinated as soon as possible (or alternatively, you can do that post-modernist hokum known as sleeving. *Sniff*, the lengths they go to to make things affordable for the proles.)
c) Wood (Yes, I realize that it's female. What's your point, Jeeves?):
There are 4 sets of 3 wooden minions in each colour, 30 square food particles tainted green with chyme and 30 gold coins. I ordered 5000 sets of Dungeon Lords upon this serendipitous discovery, and imagine my horrible chagrin when I realized that the "gold" coins were mere wooden tokens painted in gold! I had the last laugh, however, when my 5000 negative ratings sent Dungeon Lords crashing from rank 1 to 67.
There's also a starting player token, which is frankly nothing more than a chunk of cylindrical wood. However, a sticker is supplied to don the wood with a slasher smile, which is rather unnerving, and I perpetually dread the creature's annual visits to my dungeon. Do not be fooled into thinking that this is a "cute" game, as the horrors which lie in wait are not for the faint-hearted.
The horror...
Strangely enough, Jeeves did not protest against the above polaroid of raw, abject terror. Curiouser and curiouser...
d) Imps:
I've also uncovered a cache of plastic imp miniatures in the bowels. I immediately drew a parallel to Athena's birth from Zeus's brain as the embodiment of pure wisdom. Perhaps imps are the embodiment of pure crappiness? The brownish hue certainly does not weaken the premise of my hypothesis. Further shitmus tests will have to be conducted.
A healthy pile of imps. Jeeves says that it’s okay due to their doubtful status in the anatomy.
e) Congealed blood:
There's always some leftover cubes of congealed blood (approximately 40). They're strangely transparent, so I thought to give them a mention.
Blood congealed for vivisection and educational purposes (which always makes it okay).
Hematochezia (again, for education)
e) The gameboards:
There are a total of 7 boards: the central board, the distant lands board, the progress board (flips over to become the combat board) and 4 player boards(which may be folded to serve as dummy players). It's immediately apparent what functions these boards serve, what with the amazing illustrations (intravenous tattoos are all the rage these days) of publicans, mountain ranges, underground metropolises and even a camp for the Paladin (which is, apparently, an alpha white blood cell.)
Break for Tea and Component Breakdown:
*Takes a sip of Earl Grey*
Phew, how posh-i-tively tiring. Anyhoo, I have to say, the components are fantastic! A lot of thought was clearly given to the art design, the weight of which ranges wildly from Randy Jackson (a man of few words… or just a very limited vocabulary) to Michelangelo, satisfying both cognitive and aesthetic requirements in order to enhance the gaming experience. The only issues are with card durability and the horrible albino insert, both of which can be solved with plastination (Proles Instead Get: sleeves) and bottles of formaldehyde (PIG: ziplock bags).
In terms of both quality and quantity, I give this a tip of the hat!
Component quality:
8.5/10 Posh Point Average (PPA).
(Dis)section 101 tips: Punch carefully, and remember to isolate the slasher smile sticker before you lose it amongst all the innards and gore!
Flavour Text:
Meanwhile, in the the mad scientist P.M.S.’s lab…
After an hour of extensive experimentation, I have discovered that the creature has a very alien anatomy. It would appear that there is a central immunity system and paradoxically mutual parasites which are located in different cavities of the body. Ostensibly, the parasitic creatures dig vascular canals by drawing on the body's resources, triggering attacks from the immunity system, thus indirectly fueling the cardiovascular system! When the parasitic dungeon collapses, it is reconstructed by the immunity system (and vice versa) in a perpetual cycle of constructive parasitism.
It's easier to explain by distilling the entire concept into a series of phases and processes, which we shall henceforth dub as: Gameplay. In fact, do let’s pretend that this isn’t an anachronistic bunny mutant, but rather a proletarian “boardgame”. It should definitely help the proles (that’s you) with conceptualizing the theory!
Gameplay:
The Evilometer:
This is a rather central feature of the "boardgame", so I shall get it out of the way right at the onset.
The evilometer is, quite frankly, one of my favourite mechanisms in the "game". Reputation is a resource, and every bit of reputation you gain moves you down on the evilometer, making you posher. Paying reputation or gaining evil moves you up on the evilometer, making you more menacing (a prole would say, and I quote: "more badass".)
Both being nice and being evil have their benefits, which we shall see as we move along. In an orderly fashion.
The Paladin:
The paladin is, unlike the other pesky adventurers, remarkably refined and of impeccable poise and decorum. In fact, we often share a cup of tea over the weekends, discussing art and posh literature. Congruent to the Arthurian concepts of honour, however, such friendly courtesies do not extend to the battle field. The paladin and his disproportionately large sword have laid waste to many a dungeon, including that of mine. Despite these little disputes, the old chap and I never fail to reconcile over a nice cup of Earl Grey.
The sphere things signify how much trap damage he may block... The crystals indicate his mana, the hearts indicate how much health he can heal and the arrow means that he's by the default position at the front of the party.
Once you've reached the paladin threshold on your evilometer, the paladin immediately arrives at the gates of your dungeon. The paladin is armed with thief's ability to prevent trap damage, the priest's ability to heal the party, the warrior's default position at the vanguard and the wizard's ability to cast spells. Needless to say, the paladin is a force to be reckoned with, and one should not take his arrival with idle concern.
Point scoring:
This is another thing to get out of the way. Points may be earned by building tunnels, rooms, hiring monsters, imprisoning adventurers and all of that hullabaloo. Points may be lost by having your posh dungeon tiles conquered or incurring debt.
The 7 titles are another way of gaining points. The most evil player receives the title "The Lord of Dark Deeds" whereas the richest player receives is the "Lord of Riches". Each title grants 3 points, or 2 points if shared, making title points definite sums to be reckoned with.
Getting Started:
Randomly select the player order. Do this by spinning the slasher smile token, and whichever victim it settles its murderous eyes upon shall spontaneously burst into flames. And also they'll start the first phase for that season.
The 4 Seasons:
Perhaps you proles are unfamiliar with the concept, but there are four seasons every year, and in Dungeon Lords, there are 2 years, which means a total of 8 seasons. Still with me?
The purple wooden token marks the "game"'s progress through the seasons
Winter is the first season of the year, and things move along at an understandably sluggish pace. In fact, this is the only season where there are no events or adventurers (proles) lining up to ransack your posh dungeon. The adventurers (proles) rather spend their insignificant days celebrating barbaric rituals such as Christmas, where they apparently sit around a tree boxing and drinking raw eggs. *sniff*
An amazon celebrating Christmas
Every season (with the exception of winter) has 5 phases:
The Phases:
Phase 1: Assigning Orders
There are 8 different orders:
(In Sequence)
1) Obtain Food
2) Obtain Reputation (becoming less evil and more posh)
3) Mine Tunnels
4) Mine Gold
5) Hire Imps
6) Buy Traps
7) Hire Monsters
8) Buy Rooms
Each player always has 2 inaccessible orders placed face up on their board. Inaccessible orders are the second and third orders assigned in the previous season, and thus can no longer be performed this season. After factoring in the inaccessible orders of other players and much ruminating (ad hoc hypothesis that proles possess the faculties necessary for the process of thought) they then select 3 other orders to be lain face down.
When all orders have been selected, the starting player (the one who possesses that starting player token) reveals his first order, followed by the prole to his left. When all first orders have been revealed, the starting player reveals his second order and so on.
Whenever an order is revealed, a minion of the same colour is removed from the office and placed on the corresponding location on the central board. Here's a pictorial example:
As you can see, the red player has the starting player token and therefore goes first. The two orders in the top row are inaccessible orders, whereas the three orders in the bottom row are assigned orders, where minions travel on to the map to realize their master's dark whims. How they manage to slip past the V for Vendetta token remains a mystery.
This is where the meat (posh meat, obviously) of the first phase lies. For example: The first minion who reaches the trap store has to pay 1 gold. The second minion gets it for free instead! The third player has to buy 2 traps or nothing at all, and since every location on the map only has 3 slots, the 4th minion doesn't get to do anything and has to return to stand on its order (see the green player's minion in the above illustration).
As you can see, a lot of second-guessing, foresight and ESP are required for this particular phase, dusted with a sprinkling of intrigue and deception.
Predominant Mechanics:
Innovative worker placement. Card management.
Phase 2: Executing Orders
Now that all the orders have been revealed, it's time to execute them.
If it still isn't clear enough (sigh, proles) how orders are executed, do take a look at the image below.
The minion on the first slot pays one gold and gets 2 food.
The minion on the second slot pays one reputation and gets 3 food.
The minion on the third slot pays 2 reputation and gets 3 food + 1 gold.
This phase is where you find out if your first phase (order assignments/minion positions) went according to plan. If so, congratulations. Execute your orders as you planned. Otherwise:
If you find your minion in an uncomfortable position (yes, I know you empathize with their plight, Jeeves), you'll have to readjust your grand strategy and make quick tactical alterations. Should you bend over backwards and suffer a few losses, recant your orders to facilitate rallying in the next phase/season, or switch tracks completely by focusing on another resource instead?
For example:
Falling short of getting a free trap, your minion landed on the third slot. Should you pay 2 gold and buy the traps, when tax day is coming in the very next season? It also happens that tax day is in fall, and you need at least 1 trap to arm your dungeon against those pesky proles. Which can you afford more, the 2 gold, or the action point of reordering traps in fall?
A completely different way to handle this situation would be to forego the traps, and not to reorder them in the next season. Instead you may focus on getting the toughest possible monster (for example, a vampire) and playing the high reputation cost to your advantage, steering you clear of the priest (which are immune to vampires) and attracting the tougher thief to your dungeon (which has 0 traps). Risky risky, as monsters in the publican are completely random.
A second example:
The mint room (gold producing room) that you were vying for has been snatched up by your rival Dungeon Lord, and you are instead left with the souvenir shop (also a gold producing room, with different topographical requirements). The catch is that the souvenir shop has to be placed on the upper level of your dungeon, and the only available location suitable for the room is next to the entrance! Are you confident that you won't lose a vital production room when the adventurers attack? Are you confident that you won't lose more than one tile?
Or you could just buy it, and waste an action point the next turn to mine more tunnels, diluting the chances of the adventurers reaching your room. Is it worth the extra taxes, and consequently the extra gold you'll have to mine?
Predominant Mechanics:
Resource Management. Tile management.
Phase 3: Production
If you have enough imps (or trolls, which function as both worker and monster) left over from Phase 2 (where imps were used to mine tunnels and gold) then you can assign them to various rooms to produce or reproduce. Production rooms are only obtained in the first year, and it's always wise to have at least one such room to tide you through the resource intensive second year.
This is a fairly straightforward phase, with mostly linear decisions. Even so, the contingency of analysis paralysis still exists, especially for our indecisive flip-flopper friends:
Say what you like about the man, but he's aged quite well
Predominant Mechanics:
Resource Management.
Phase 4: Events
Event tiles for the next season are always revealed. For example, if spring began, events and adventurers for summer would be revealed.
There are 3 kinds of events:
Taxes:
For every two tunnels you own, you pay 1 gold; rounded up.
Payday:
Hiring monsters costs resources such as food, reputation, gold, traps and even other monsters. On payday, pay them the same salary when hiring them. If you fall short of the terms of your agreement, they leave your dungeon and rampage through the city, costing you one reputation for each monster unpaid.
Special Events:
There are a total of 9 special events. Whenever a special event tile is revealed, a card from the special event deck is also revealed. Special events include:
Earthquake: Destroys 2 tunnels.
Title Envy: For every exclusive title in your possession, gain 1 evil.
Witch Hunts: Discard a monster or gain 3 evil. Alternatively, you may fling darts at Ann Coulter and lose one evil if you get her nose.
Only three tries, mind you
The events play a major role in the game's randomness, always having huge effects on "gaming" strategies as players plan their way around minimalizing taxes and the purchase of monsters. Special events require far more ratiocination however, as their disastrous effects often encroach on your posterior in the most counter-intuitive and convoluted of ways. (Or as the proles say and I quote: "Sneak up behind you and fuck you up the ass".)
Phase 5: Adventurer Assignment
This is the phase where the most vulgar of adventurers are assigned to the evilest Dungeon Lords, whereas the less offensive proles are assigned to the more tasteful and posh of dungeons.
Sounds simple and straightforward, doesn't it? It does? (Proles...)
*Sighs and adjusts monocle*
The weakness of adventurers is very, very subjective, and more often than not you will find an entire rabble of adventurers of the same ranking waiting to be assigned.
For example:
A Dungeon Lord who has 2 vampires is the second most evil and will obtain the priest this round. This is bad, because vampires cannot attack priests; so the Dungeon Lord should attempt to gain more evil to become the evilest player, thus landing himself the thief. This is far less crippling as he lacks traps which revolve around damage-infliction and his vampires can take out the thief in a jiffy.
A second example:
The third most evil Dungeon Lord had sent minions to spy at the university during summer. She finds that the first spell is Blind Rage, rendering her Dragon useless. There is already a mage at her front door, and if things go according to plan she can eliminate the mage with a Poisoned Meal. Unfortunately, being the third most evil player meant that a warrior would be assigned to her dungeon, and because warriors are always immediately assigned to the front of the party, her plan is foiled and she will unnecessarily lose one Dungeon Tile, costing her 2 points. Instead, she should increase her evil and land the priest, who will be assigned to the back of the party and whose heal will be cancelled by the Dragon's fiery breath.
End Of Season
When phase 5 of a season has ended, pass the starting player token to the player on your left. Thank goodness.
Differences in the second year
a) The second year sees more focus on victory points, such as the rush to purchase rooms which provide said points and the attempt to achieve the 7 titles.
b) It also sees stronger monsters and adventurers, and certain rooms even provide attack bonuses to monsters.
c) Being the last year, economic projections are unnecessary in fall, causing everyone to struggles for the best traps and monsters. This is very a good time to sneakily steal away some titles, at the expense of a conquered dungeon tile or two.
d) The paladin this year is even more fearsome than the last; his diction is even more precise and his dress is even more impeccable. Furthermore, he has displayed a natural flair for the harp, the bagpipes and even ballet to boot. Oh, and Jeeves says that he's better in combat, but who cares about that, really?
The old chap's real name is actually Wally
e) Production is even more intensive this year, as you may double produce by similarly doubling the amount of workers.
f) The trap store is also more flexible, as you now have an extra choice whenever you buy a trap.
Combat:
Combat is actually fairly straightforward. At the end of every year, those lower class barbarians envious of your posh-i-ness invade your dungeon; whereas you strive to knock them out with traps and monsters and then throwing them in prison. Which is just as well or these heartless barbarians will whitewash your walls. Oh. The horror.
(Actually, you want the proles to do your paintjobs, it's always much easier than doing it yourself. I mean really, who do you think painted the Buckingham Palace, the Queen? Just remember never to make it too easy on them, or they'll sense that something's up.)
The Entrance Hall is already done, but it's really rather shoddy work. We'll have to make the prisoners repaint over the next week.
Combat is divided into 4 rounds, represented by 4 random combat cards (you can use your minions to spy on these during any season). There's a total of 18 combat cards, with 9 for each year.
Sequence of actions during a combat round:
1. Use traps (One trap maximum. Payment of one gold required when used in rooms. A special room allows two traps to be installed for free.)
2. Wizards (and Wally) cast a fast spell.
3. Send monsters to attack (In addition to any number of ghosts: One monster maximum. 2 in rooms.)
4. Priest (and Wally) heal the team.
5. Wizards (and Wally) cast a slow spell.
6. The party tries to conquer the dungeon tile. If they succeed, flip the tile over and send them to conquer (paint) somewhere else for the next combat round.
4 rounds of combat - 1,2,3,4
Each combat card describes the spells that will be casted by wizards and paladins during that round. The spell of the first round always consumes 1 mana, the second round consumes 2, the third round consumes 3 and so on. The droplets of blood on the bottom-right corner represent fatigue, which is the damage the adventurers will inflict upon themselves by trying to conquer (paint) the tunnel or room. If the first adventurer has 1 health left and conquering requires 3 fatigue, the adventurer dies and the remaining 2 fatigue is passed on to the next adventurer.
If all adventurers are eliminated by fatigue, they may not conquer (paint) the tunnel or room.
More combat cards images from the Royal Society of Boardgame & Tea (RSBGT).
Spells illustrated with lightning gilded sapphires are fast spells: cast after traps have been triggered; whereas spells illustrated with veined green jades are slow spells: cast after the monsters have attacked.
Jeeves, TEA!
I have to say, there's no tea like posh tea
Well, that sums up the "game"! The Dungeon Lord with the highest amount of victory points at the end of the game wins! Do remember to record your scores for every "game" in a notebook, so after 20 or so games you may convert the numbers into line graphs, which is always very amusing!
The Posh Thoughts
I do hope that you've gotten the gist of the "game", as my intention was to take you on a ride through the whole "gaming" process, thus giving you an idea of what the "game" plays like, what it feels like, and how terribly proletarian you are.
Everyone has their own taste in games, after all, as the proles say: to each their own, even though they only say that to convince themselves that they don't have terrible taste; but to each their own.
I do hope that I've finally either persuaded or dissuaded you from buying this game.
Jeeve's Thoughts
Does this game have any depth or theme?
As is evident from my master's unnecessarily lengthy review, this game has depth. Great depth, in fact, and it comes from the mellifluous blend of different mechanics into a huge thematic whole. One honestly does feel like they're building a dungeon to defend against the yearly raids by a ragtag party of hooligans and ragamuffins.
What about player interaction and downtime?
Player interaction, while social and indirect, is still significant. Apart from the yearly dungeon raids, there is virtually no downtime, and even then, all players are always interested to find out what goes on in the opponent's dungeons.
Is the rulebook any good?
It is, frankly, quite brilliant, and Master Posh loves it. The humor is zany and appropriately applied to avoid being intrusive; instead, it helps the reader to remember the rules, more often than not eliciting chuckles in reminiscence (Master Posh chuckles politely, of course). There have certainly been complaints about bad humor, though one must note that humor is subjective, and since the majority of readers enjoyed the humor, one can only assume a bad sense of humor or Dunning-Kruger on the the dissenters' behalf.
The following is the namesake of my Master's review:
(Posh here, I'm still curious as to how the magic works. Honestly, what in the world does a romantic dinner have to do with the spell? Jeeves claims that he doesn't know either, but I just don't trust the sly old fox.)
But isn't it hard to find specific sections in the rules?
It's a definite possibility, though my Master Posh is too intelligent to require perusing the rules twice, so it is of no import to him.
How long does the game last?
10 hours. To be fair, however, Master Posh does have to take a 4-hour trauma therapy whenever the starting player token arrives at his dungeon.
How well does the game scale?
It does scale quite well, actually. 4 players are, without a doubt, the optimal number for Dungeon Lords. A 2-player game is still enjoyable, and even introduces different strategies, whereas 3-player games can even be just as fun as 4-player games. Do note that we play 3-player games with certain house rules:
The assigned orders of the dummy player are to be lain face down; the dummy is also to receive the starting player token and has to place minions in turn just like the human players. It certainly bolsters the excitement, as the dummy player can be rather unpredictable.
How's the replayability?
It is excellent. You will most certainly get every single penny's worth out of this... *uh hum* "boardgame". As is manifest from my master's review, the game is constituted of many different processes, whilst the variability in events only further adds to the replay value. Thus far, we have played over 15 games (approximately 23 hours) in the span of 2 weeks, and yet it remains as enjoyable as ever. Surely it would be far more replayable if the games were splayed out across a larger timescale.
Is this your favourite game?
Master Posh's favourite game will always be my favourite game. So, no, as Master Posh favours Arkham Horror over Dungeon Lords whenever there is adequate time.
How would you rate this game?
I present to you my master's ratings:
Component Quality: 8.5 PPA
Gameplay: 10 PPA
Theme: 10 PPA
Base Replayability: 10 PPA
Interaction: 9 PPA
Fake Gold Coins: -10 PPA
Starting Player Token: -30 PPA
Game PPA: 1.071428571
Forget the snob, I wanna know what's your rating?
I am unable to comment on that. If it counts for anything, however, it has been years since Master Posh last gave a game the rating of over 1.05802934514. So, boldly speaking, this counts as a 10.
Why do you even work for that guy?
Well, the sex is good.
Thanks for reading!