Truth be Told - "The Laugh out Loud Pretend to Know your Friends Game

Before we delve too deeply into the nature and wonders of Truth be Told," Buffalo Games' newest and perhaps most successful party game since Imaginiff, let me ask you to fill in this particular blank: "The most expensive thing I purchased last month was ____________ " And by "I", I mean "me," majorly speaking, fun himself. Given everything you know about me from all our years of virtual intimacy, what do you really think, honestly, was the most expensive thing I actually bought all last month? Wait, let me put it differently: what do you think I would admit, truthfully speaking, to be the most expensive thing, etc.? Got it? OK, now write it down, using one of the 8, write-on, wipe-off markers on one of those 8, thick, write-onable, wipe-offable cards so thoughtfully provided by those everso clever Buffalo Gamesters. Be sure you write your name on the top of the card in the assigned blank. OK, now put your card face-down and slide it over to me. Note, please, how I'm thoroughly mixing up everyone's cards, including mine.

Now, listen carefully as I read everyone's answers aloud - everyone's, including mine. Here they are, in no particular order:

A coffee pot
A subscription to the New Yorker
A pair of New Balance sneakers
A bag of marbles
A Panasonic TC - P50X1 - 50" plasma panel - 720p flatscreen TV

OK? Want me to read them again?

Now, on your paddle-like, write-on, wipe-offable, nicely thick True Answer Paddle cards, write the answer that you think was the one I gave. Remember, you get one point for everyone who votes for your answer. And one point if you vote for mine. (If you wrote down my answer, I find myself that much closer to you as well, insofar as I get a point too.) And now, one at a time, in sequential order, everyone, except me, of course, reveals their answers. I then, with great flourish and conceptual fanfare, reveal my "true" answer. Scores are recorded on the convenient, also write-on and wipe-offable scorekeeping card. And then, on to the next Truth Teller.

What actual fun! How comfortably unthreatening. How surprisingly well the scoring system works to keep the game light-hearted, fair and, uh, balanced. See, I want you to guess my answer, because it's a point for me, too. So I try to fill in my blank with something that's not only honest, but plausible, and predictable, even. And you really are thinking about me, reviewing everything you know about me, or can guess about me. The game is clearly not about trying to make me look bad, or you stupid, or trying to reveal something secret about me or yourself or anyone else who's playing, or trying to out-strategize anyone. It's not good for me or anybody to try to get you to guess wrong. When it's my turn, the game is all about me. Not about what you think of me. But about what you know of me, what you can guess about me. And then, when it's your turn, it's all about you.

There are a lot of party games that try to accomplish this "getting-to-know-each-other-better" experience. Few succeed like Truth be Told. Honestly.

Oh, by the way, it was a subscription to the New Yorker. Who knew?

Tayu

Tayu is an elegant strategy game in which players take turns laying "river tiles," competing to build connected waterways from one side of the board to the other. One player attempts to create as many channels as possible from north to the south of the board while the other tries to do the same from the east to the west sides of the board.

Published by Goliath Games, designed by Niek Neuwahl, the game takes its name from the legendary emperor of China, Yu the Great, the founder of the Xia Dynasty, who, according to Wikipedia, taught his subjects how to control flooding along China's rivers and lakes.

There are 84 rectangular tiles. Each tile is inscribed with a branching line. These two attributes - rectangular tiles and branching lines - help to make the game as unique as it is.

There are three kinds of tiles. On some tiles, the line reaches three different sides. On others, only two. In most versions, players take turns drawing the tiles from a bag and placing each new tile adjacent to one that has already been played. The game continues until all the tiles have been played. Score is then calculated.

To determine the score, count all the tiles whose rivers end on one side of the board, and then multiply that number by the sum of all the tiles whose rivers end on the other (so you score even if your river only reaches one side, but you score much more if your rivers reach both). There are four raised circles on each side of the board. Rivers that connect to those circles count double.

The game is very easy to learn - it takes only a few minutes to understand how to play. The whole game can be played in half an hour or less. Like any good game, understanding how to win is quite another undertaking - one that can keep you intrigued for many, many hours of deep play.

The game is nicely made. The tiles have buttons on the bottom which fit nicely into depressions on the board, though some care has to be taken to prevent yourself from accidentally knocking a tile out of position once its placed on the board. The strong, plastic board comes in two halves that snap securely together. The large, hefty, drawstring bag filled with tiles and the disassembled board fit perfectly into the game box.

Tayu is essentially a two-player game, though the three- and four-player versions are all worth playing. In the four-player version, players work as partners, one team playing East-West, the other North-South. Since all eight of our Tasters were interested in the game, we played it in teams, four on each side, sliding the board back and forth across the table. The board slid easily and the pieces stayed in place. It turned out to be fun and surprisingly absorbing for all players. Considering how many people were involved, it was a testimony to the visual and strategic attraction of the game.

In the three-player version, the third player scores by trying to prevent each of the other players from succeeding. Players determine what constitutes success by a process of bidding, like in contract bridge, trying to guess ahead of time how many points they will score.

There's an "advanced" variation where tiles are taken out of the bag and placed face down on the table. The tiles whose rivers reach three sides are distinguished by a concentric ring design on the center button on the reverse side. With all the tiles face-down on the table, you can easily see which have river segments that reach three sides, and be a bit more strategic in selecting the kind of tile that you bring into play.

All of these refinements point to a game that has been carefully designed to provide its players with very good reasons to explore the game in depth, to share it with many friends, and to cherish it for many years.

Dixit - a party game of subtlety, sensitivity and creativity

Dixit is a surprisingly lovely and subtle party game in which players try to guess which image was selected by the "storyteller." The rules are simple enough to learn in a few minutes. The 84 large cards are beautifully and evocatively illustrated. And the whole game can be played in well under an hour.

The subtlety of the game comes from the scoring system and from a growing understanding of the art of being a successful storyteller - for art is what it is.

The game begins with each player receiving six cards, dealt randomly from the deck. One player is selected storyteller. Once the storyteller has selected a card, she can give any kind of clue she wants. After she has given her clue, the other players try to find a card that will fit the clue well enough to get voted for. The storyteller takes her card and the other players selections, and lays them out, face-up, in random order. Everyone uses their voting chips to select the one card they think belonged to the storyteller. Players get the most points by voting for the storyteller's card. They also gets points for every player who votes for their card. In addition to the cards, the game includes a race track scoring board, voting chips, and 6 wooden bunny-like playing pieces, each of a different color.

What makes the game so intriguingly subtle is the result how the storyteller scores. If her clue is so good that everyone votes for her card, or so vague that no one votes for it, she gets no points. So there's an art here. If you're the storyteller (you don't actually have to tell a story, you can sing a song, utter a poem, act, mime, whatever you think will communicate your choice to almost everyone), it pays not only to be subtle, but also to have a good feel for your audience.

The need for both subtlety and social awareness makes Dixit a true party game. Though children as young as 8 can understand the game, unless they are compassionate and theatrically gifted (like my granddaughter), they will have trouble playing it successfully with anyone other than their peers. Though it may remind you of other games (Balderdash, perhaps? Apples to Apples?), it proves to be impressively unique, and hence a valuable addition to your games collection. Designed by Jean-Louis Roubira, with art by Marie Cardouat, Dixit invites strategic thinking, sensitivity and, most importantly, creativity. And for people who possess all these strengths, Dixit proves to be Major FUN.

(thanks to Marc Gilutin for recommending Dixit so strongly - he was right again)

Le Pass Trappe

Le Passe Trappe is a fast, somewhat furious, slightly noisy, significantly fun action game for two.

Note the elastic band on either end of the well-made, wood-framed board. Now cast your conceptual glance to the small, slightly-larger-than-a-puck opening in the center. Add to this the observation that there are 10 pucks. That's pretty much all you need to understand how the game is played.

The two players each start out with 5 pucks apiece. They shake hands and then, simultaneously, use their elastic bands to try to shoot all the pucks that are on their side through the opening and on to the other player's side of the board. The first player to clear her side of the board is the winner.

That's the basic game. There's a 45-second sand-timer, pegs and scoring holes on either side of the board for those wishing to explore more formal, tournament-like versions, or perhaps even solitaire (can you get all 10 checkers through to the other side before the timer runs out). The basic game is most definitely fun. In fact, one could easily say that it is Major FUN. During the three or maybe five minutes of play, you are totally absorbed - the noise, the speed, the challenge all combine to keep you engrossed. You can play again and again, and get very competitive about the whole game, without even needing to keep score. When there are a bunch of people who want to play, you can make it the rule that the winner gets to play someone new. In the mean time, the rest of the players can spend their relatively short wait cheering and jeering with equally passionate intensity.

Designed by Jean-Marie Albert, Le Passe Trappe is available in three different sizes. We Tasted the mid-size, because that's the way we are. But they all play alike and are sure to prove a good investment, for kids, for the family, at a games night or party, at a neighborhood event or sleep-over.

Tumblin' Dice

When Randy Nash first developed Tumblin' Dice, he did what any game inventor would do - especially one who created a game that people really loved - he started his own company. Recently, the older/wiser Mr. Nash licensed his game to Fred Distribution - a company with a genuinely deep appreciation for really good games. And they honored his concept, and made it a little more attractive, and just as well-made, and just as much fun.

The game is called Tumblin' Dice, which is exactly what it was called when we first gave it our highest award - the Keeper. I am happy to say, this renewed version is at least as much of a Keeper as it was then.

Think of it shuffleboard with dice. You'd be wrong, but you'd understand almost all you needed to know in order to start playing. There are four sets of dice, each a different colors (and lovely colors they are). Each set has four dice. Players take turns flick/slide/rolling their dice, starting on the top level, aiming towards one of the three platforms on the lowest levels. If your die reaches the third level, you get exactly as many points as are on the top of the die. If your die reaches the fourth level, you get twice as many points; the fifth level, three times as many, and if you reach the lowest level, you multiply the face of the die by four.

Since players are taking turns, there's a good chance that someone will knock your high-scoring die off the board. So the game can get quite competitive. There's a lot of opportunity to develop skill. But there's enough chance (despite my desire to maintain the illusion, I don't think it's really possible to determine what face of the die will show up at the end of a roll) to keep things interesting, even for the poor-of-aim.

The turns are very short, and a whole round can take only a few minutes. So everyone stays involved even when there are four players. And as soon as one round is over, and all the points are scored, people are ready and eager to play again. It's a perfect family game. For children who are still learning to add and multiply, it even has some educational value - not enough to spoil the fun, just enough to make their parents willing to let them play, too. If the multiplication is too hard, instead of multiplying you can just add extra points for dice that reach the scoring levels. Because of the skill required, and the competitiveness, adults can get intensely engaged. Because of the luck factor, anyone who can flick/slide/roll a die has a reasonable chance of winning. And, if you have some perverse need to make it even more challenging, you can try removing some or all of the pegs on the bottom two levels. I tried. I put them back.

Tumbln' dice is a big game. Some assembly is required. But it's easy and takes maybe 90 seconds the first time. And just as easily disassembled and snuggled back into its box, in maybe 45. Of course, somebody who hasn't played it yet will probably come over shortly after you've finally put it away, and you'll find yourself gleefully putting it back together again.

Tumblin' Dice is an investment in long-lasting, generation-spanning fun. The payoff is Major FUN.

For Sale

Stefan Dorra's auction game For Sale is another surprisingly engaging game from Fred Distribution. You get a set of 30, well-illustrated Property Cards (by artist Alvin Madden), another set of 30 Currency Cards, and a collection of 72 thick, cardboard coins, worth either one- or two-thousand conceptual dollars.

Before we go into detail about the design and mechanics of the game, allow me to leap to a conclusion: This is a remarkable little game - easy to learn, sweetly short (maybe 15 minutes), engaging from beginning to end, bringing people (3-6 players, ages 8 and up) closely together, almost always surprising, almost always making people laugh. Play it between games, play it to open or cap a game session, play it after dinner, play it before bed. Play it once. Play it again and again all evening long. Play it with strangers or friends or family, even. And it's still fun.

Aside from the elegance of the execution and cleverness of the design, what makes this game so successful is the interaction between players. It's all about learning each other: trying to predict what other people will do while remaining inscrutably unpredictable. Like a friendly game of poker, only friendlier, lighter-of-heart, and without any consequences other than fun, and getting to know each other a little better, and surprising each other a little more often.

The game is played in two phases. In the first phase, Property Cards are dealt out (3-6, depending on the number of players), face-up. Players then take turns, bidding for the card of the highest value, unless, of course, they are so taken by the clever illustrations that they start bidding for the property that looks the most fun (ooh, a tree house!). Which may be counterproductive in terms of things like winning, but fun's fun, and who can put a value on that?

The bidding process is unique and very efficient. After the first player makes her bid, the next either bids higher or passes. If you pass, you get the lowest-value Property Card. If you've already bid, take back half your bid (rounded down), and give the rest to the bank. If you continue, you must increase the bid. When all but one player have passed, that player gets the property of his choice and gives all his bid to the bank. This phase continues until all the Property Cards have been sold. If you're too enthusiastic of a bidder, you'll probably run out of coins before all the Property Cards are used up. Not to worry. You may not get the properties you want, but you'll still get something.

Once all the Property Cards are sold, the "real" part of the game begins. Now, players use the values of their Property Cards to bid for Currency Cards, whose value ranges from zero to $15,000. Here, the bidding process is a bit more familiar. Again, as many Currency Cards as there are players are dealt face-up on to the table. All players select one of their Property Cards, place it face-down on the table, and then simultaneously reveal their bid. The player whose Property Card has the highest gets the first choice of Currency Cards. The next highest gets the next choice, etc. Property Cards that were bid are returned to the bank and the next group of Currency Cards is revealed. This continues until all Property Cards have been used. Players then add up the value of all their Currency Cards and any remaining money coins. The player with the highest score wins.

It pays to conserve, it pays to observe, it pays to remember what cards have already been played, it pays to remember how risky or conservative people tend to be. It pays to play. Not in money, maybe. But in fun, most definitely. Major FUN.

Worm up!

There's something gently lovable about Worm up! O, it's fun, all right. Major FUN, in actual fact. But it's funny, too. And so spare in its design that it's what you might call endearing.

The colorful little game box contains 5 sets (each in a different color) of 7 wooden hemispheres. These are used to make worms - take a set, put the hemispheres, hemi-side down, in a column, and there you have it, your basic worm.

Then there are 4 black cylinders. Also wooden. And some cardboard pieces. Thick, durable cardboard to be sure. One of these pieces serves as the finish line, and two of the cylinders fit on either end of it. The other two cylinders are placed about 2-feet away to create the starting line. The other cardboard pieces are also in 5 sets. Each set consists of 5 rectangular tokens, numbered 4, 5, 6, and 7, and one with an X on it.

Once the goal and starting line are set up, players line-up their worms. Each of the 3 to 5 players selects one of the cardboard tokens, places that token face-down on the table, and turns their tokens over simultaneously. Players who have chosen the same number token don't get to move their worms. The others move their worms, one segment at a time, starting from the last segment, and sliding that segment to the head of the worm, the player who chose the lowest number going first. The X token allows you to either move your worm (any number that hasn't been already chosen) or move the goal (which takes on evermore strategic significance as the game progresses). To move the goal, you put your finger on one of the cylinders (anchoring it), and then, with your finger on the other cylinder, rotate the goal as far as you want to.

You can move your worm in any manner you wish, positioning pieces so as to make it twist and turn to block your opponents, as long as each worm piece is placed adjacent to the piece most recently moved to the head of the worm. Even though you're just sliding these little wooden half-domes from the back to the font of the line, as the game progresses, the worms seem to move in a wonderfully wriggly, worm-like fashion. Because the pieces are so simple, the illusion is that much more powerful.

And of course trying to predict what tile the other players might choose so you can choose differently is endlessly surprising, turn after turn.

The game takes maybe 10 minutes to play, though we had to play it twice before we felt that the game was over, and then had to have a quite serious discussion about why we should really be playing it at least one more time. It's good for families whose kids are a precocious 7 or older. It's good for kids. It's a good game to play between more serious games. Gentle fun. A happy little diversion.

If I were Alex Randolph, the designer of the game, I would consider it a minor masterwork. And I would take equal delight in the production quality. The packaging is very spare - very little space is wasted. The rules are brief and easy to learn.

There's a quote by Randolph on the side of the box. I think it explains much about why his game is as fun, and as elegant as it is:

"Somehow," he writes, "I feel that boardgames are the beginning of everything truly human, and so, ultimately, of the highest human endeavors, especially those which I find most precious, because they have no purpose outside themselves. They are, themselves, their purpose. Poetry, art, music, story telling, pure mathematics, pure science, philosophy...all are spiritual luxuries. Luxuries are things that delight us, that we long to possess, but that we can very well do without. They are not practical. They are not needed for our survival. And board games? Board games are luxuries, too, of course, albeit minor and marginal, but in the sense of non-utility, perhaps the purest."

Cir*Kis

Cir*Kis is as much of a puzzle as it is a strategy game as it is an exploration of the geometry of the decagon (like an octagon, only with 10 sides). One of the interesting properties of a decagon is that it can surround a five-pointed star with satisfyingly geometric aplomb.

Each of up to 4 players gets a collection of 9 different shapes of the same color. These shapes vary in size from the easy-to-find-but-difficult-to-position "big slice" to the easy-to-lose "sliver" which can only be placed in clearly demarcated spaces on the edges of the board. The board is covered with a raised pattern of circles (actually decagons) and stars and irregular shapes connecting them. The pieces fit into and over the design on the board. It requires a certain amount of dexterity and a significant amount of perceptual discrimination to figure out what fits where. The strategy, of course, is in understanding why.

After the first move (the rules suggest that the youngest player goes first), the next player has to place their piece so that it is adjacent to the last played. As soon as a player is able to complete a shape (a circle or star), she scores. If her color is in the majority, she scores 10 points. If not, only 5.

You can also get a free turn, which means that you can take the lead, which can be of significant strategic import if you are significantly strategic. The opportunities are rather rare, which make them of even more strategic interest - you must either place one of your pieces in a space surrounded by other pieces, or complete the center star or be the first to place a sliver piece.

Visually, Cir*Kis is as compelling as any other tessellation. The conceptual challenge of separating figure from ground adds significantly the strategic challenge of playing the game.

For 2-4 players, aged 8 and up, Cir*Kis offers a unique challenge to the eye and mind. It might remind you of Blokus or Pentominoes, but there really is no other game quite like it - lovely to look at, visually challenging, strategically deep enough to be played again and again, Major FUN.