Jesus, I fucking love boardgames! This year I was treated to Smallworld (Phillipe Keyaerts) from the Days of Wonder line (Memoir 44, Ticket to Ride).

As soon as you open the box, you think “oomph.” You’ve got to peel away several leaves of rulesy looking playsheets and two double sided, fold out boards before you’re blasted into nostalgia by an array of poppable playing pieces.

Rules

Before I even played Smallworld I knew I’d like the game. The rules were light. I mean, really light. You can explain them to your friends without looking at the manual, and they won’t even ask you to repeat yourself. It gives you faith in the design, which is backed up by the chunkiness of the playing pieces and the scenario dependant playing boards.

Unlike Fantasy Flight games, Smallworld smells of playtesting. You are continually surprised by the inclusion of odd assets, like when you first notice the mountain tokens which are put onto the mountain squares on the board. “Why would you need to put a mountain piece on a square that is clearly a mountain square?” you ask. Then later, when you omit their usage, you find that people start forgetting that they are on a mountain territory unless there is a piece to indicate it.

Play. Testing. These guys have done their homework.

Bits & Pieces

Another winner? You know how in Fantasy Flight games (see Arkham Horror), they give you a gazillion little pieces for play, and then assume you have a stock of elastic bands and money bags to keep it all neat? Well, Days of Wonder don’t assume anything. In the Smallworld box there is a space for everything. It’s filled with differently shaped grooves and nooks, so that with a little planning you can fit every piece into secure lodgings. There’s even a clear plastic roof for one set of pieces, to protect them from spilling in case of inversion.

Wouldn’t it be cool, though, if there was a guide as to where each piece should fit? So that you knew where each piece should be stored? Of course it would, and that’s why a map is included in the appendix, for obsessive tinkerers like me.

Game Play

Satisfied with the delicious artwork, ease of preparation and high production values, I was ready to leap into the fray.

Smallworld is a game of territories and expansion, with little in the random department. Despite this seemingly aggressive structure, the game plays out in an amiable fashion. That’s partly because no one knows for certain who is winning.

In Smallworld, at the end of your turn, you receive gold tokens for each territory you hold, augmented by your race’s powers. These tokens are turned upside-down, so unless you count in your head, you rarely have any idea of the amount of gold you possess, let alone the amounts of the other players. For me, this = good sportsmanship.

Play begins as you pick a race. In Smallworld, each race is coupled with a randomly determined power, and the chief stratgey is in choosing the right race/power combo, at the right time, in order to earn the maximum amount of gold (at the same time inhibitting the other players).

Every couple of turns, you’re encouraged to put your race In-Decline. You still earn pips from this race, but they’re no longer part of the war machine. You draw a new race and begin to expand with them instead. This constant changing and cycling reduces the hooliganism that is fomented with some tabletop wartime simulations. For me, again, this = good sportsmanship.

Smallworld is a fun game. The turns are short, I mean click your fingers quick, so even though there is no in-between turn activity for inactive players, it doesn’t matter too much, at least with a 2-4 player game. Buy it, play it, have fun. You’re gauranteed to love, if nothing else, the artwork for the Elven race.