George Orwell once wrote an essay in which he fondly described his favourite pub: The Moon Under Water. He goes into great detail about the clientele, atmosphere, and offerings of The Moon Under Water before musing that, sadly, no such place exists (even though a few, he says, come quite close to his vision).
But what about the ideal board game? Unless you’re a lifestyle gamer, devoting all or nearly all your gaming time to a single game like Chess or Go or Magic: the Gathering, you’d probably be hard-pressed to come up with a list of ten games that you’d be happy to play exclusively for the rest of your life, let alone one. Perhaps Orwell, if he ever happened upon The Moon Under Water, would have been content to never visit another public house. I, on the other hand, know that I will never come across a game so great that it will chase away my desire to play anything else.
Still, I’m sure that every gamer has in their mind a list of traits that describe their “ideal” eurogame (in order to limit the scope of the discussion a bit). This is a game they would always be excited to talk about, play, and teach to new players, and they’d probably never turn it down, even after a long, grueling game session. With that, here is my review of my ideal eurogame: Merchants of Moonwater.
Merchants of Moonwater plays best with 3 players, though it scales very well to 2 and 4. It doesn’t need extensive modification to the rules to work with 2, and the rules haven’t been twisted in order to force it to work with 5, 6, or 7 players. It doesn’t overstay its welcome: games rarely last more than 90 minutes, and the structure of turns is simple enough that even if you’re playing with the sort of people who are particularly prone to analysis-paralysis, individual turns never last too long.
The theme of Merchants of Moonwater permeates the entirety of the game, from the artwork to the details of players’ turns. Every quirk of the rules has an explanation that ties it back to its theme, and the gameplay gradually builds up towards an exciting and satisfying conclusion. Winning the game isn’t just something you get to do after having collected the most points: it’s a mark that you have achieved something truly inspiring in the story that the players have woven while playing. Even so, Merchants of Moonwater never sacrifices mechanical elegance for the sake of theme – it still is a eurogame through and through after all.
Set-up is variable without being too random. Every game plays differently, but players can still make use of the knowledge they’ve accrued through repeated plays to adapt to new situations. There is a low amount of randomness involved, and it is never punishing: random elements serve to restrict players’ options rather than determine their failure or success once a course of action has been chosen. Players may not be in full control of what fate offers them, but they can rest assured that once they’ve made their decision, its outcome is not left up to the vagaries of the dice or cards.
Merchants of Moonwater features plenty of indirect player interaction. There are always numerous opportunities for players to mess with each others’ plans, but to intervene with another player’s progress is not a decision to be taken lightly. It needs to be carefully weighed against your other options, and it certainly requires more thought than simply playing a single card that reads “your opponents lose five coins”.
There are several resources in Merchants of Moonwater, but they are much more than coloured tokens to be pushed around. Each resource has a clear, well-defined mechanical role: different actions in the game require different proportions of resources, which makes choosing which resources to focus on a strategic decision in its own right, and discourages indiscriminate hoarding. The same goes for tracks on which players advance throughout the game: they confer very different benefits, and so anything but interchangeable.
Merchants of Moonwater has a venerable mosaic of different mechanics, some tried and true, some fresh and bold. None of them feel disconnected from each other: at no point do you feel you are playing a minigame parallel to the “real” game. The mechanics are just complex enough so that there is no one obvious path to victory, but intuitive enough to preclude players having to look up the minutiae of every action they take in the rulebook.
Speaking of: the rulebook is clear and intuitive, with robust, illustrated examples, an extensive F.A.Q., and a comprehensive index. It has a summary of the rules on the margins to help players who have played the game before quickly find information during play. Consulting it is rarely necessary: there are player aid cards that skillfully summarise most of the information required to play through the game.
The box is hefty and strong: it will not crease even if considerable weight is placed on it. It’s as big as it needs to be: all the game material can fit reasonably snugly inside it, without much room to wiggle around. There is no insert, so there is no fear that cards won’t fit once sleeved.
The artwork is a sight to behold: it has a distinctive style that pops out without being distracting, and there are plenty of unique pieces of artwork on the components. The graphic design is elegant and utilitarian at the same time: it is functional and serves to complement the player’s understanding of the rules, rather than obfuscating them. The game doesn’t try too hard to be language independent, and avoids the mistake of having an overabundance of icons served without context, hindering rather than aiding communication of game concepts to players.
Finally, the components are nothing short of pure tactile pleasure: thick player boards, sturdy tiles and cards, and beautiful, bespoke wooden meeples. Dice are wooden as well: there are absolutely no plastic components. The only plastic in the box is in the ample number of plastic resealable bags that are provided alongside a couple of cloth bags that allow you to draw tiles blind without stacking them.
Maybe this description asks too much, maybe it doesn’t. Merchants of Moonwater may never be made, or it may already exist under a different name. My vision for it is cobbled from different games I’ve played over the years. I know many games that come close to it, but I can’t think one off the top of my head that perfectly matches it. But I certainly won’t complain: even if Merchants of Moonwater doesn’t exist, I’ve played enough fantastic games to last a lifetime. I’m not going to let perfect be the enemy of good.
And, to conclude by paraphrasing Orwell, “if you know of a game that has a rich theme, clear mechanical distinction between resources, variable setup with low randomness, multiple paths to victory and no plastic bits, I should be glad to hear of it, even though its name were something as prosaic as Medieval Towns or Stone Miners”.