Should You Scratch the Board Game Gem Purchase Itch?

Several weeks ago, I played a board game called The Lost Ruins of Arnak, published by Czech Games. A beautifully colorful mishmash of deck-building and worker placement mechanism, the game involves exploring a stereotypically tropical locale for tablets, gold, arrowheads, and rubies, all the while researching a lost civilization and encountering powerful guardians. Thematically, the game leans heavily on the Indiana Jones adventure trope; this is not a knock against the game, though... Despite the decidedly apparent Euro-game elements, the theme shone through the mechanisms and, along with the superior art, evoked the thrills of the adventures of the man with the whip and fedora.

As my time with the game concluded, I found myself pondering familiar thoughts, specifically the itch-till-it-is-scratched desire to purchase this gem of a game. Yet, two counterthoughts caused me to pause: one was the acknowledgment that I already own a game like this called Dune Imperium; the other thought was the gnawing feeling that I have many great games I rarely have time to play. Both thoughts bolstered each other like a world-class beach volleyball duo; one thought set the ball, and the other spiked it. In the past, my thoughts would dig out the spike, but this time I was thankful they did not.

If you do not follow the metaphor, I'll state it plainly: I have so many great games that the urge NOT to buy more games has become stronger. When I first became interested in hobby board games, I followed the trajectory of a new enthusiast in the spring of his hobby: every time I played a new game, I made it my business to purchase it (as well as some of its expansions). I started with the classic "gateway" games; in fact, my first game was Ticket to Ride, which is as quintessential a gateway game as it gets. Next, it was Carcassonne, Settlers of Canaan (not Catan), Pandemic, and Alhambra. Then, I used a list of the past Spiel des Jahres winners (one of the prestigious board game design awards) as my roadmap to guide my purchases. Fast-forward to now and I own some of the most highly-ranked games on Boardgamegeek.com. I do not say that to brag as much as to demonstrate that I have done much to build a reasonably sizable collection of 60-70 good-to-excellent board and card games.

I have been collecting and playing these connoisseur board games for over 10 years. I have sold some and kept many, but now I view my collection as replete with fine options that I have little impetus to expand. This is not to say that I do not enjoy them; quite the opposite, I enjoy all of them. Yet, when a new game is released, I remind myself that I must own a very similar game to that new one. For instance, when I encounter a game like The Lost Ruins of Arnak, I force myself to compare it to other games in my inventory. Considering my somewhat eclectic collection, I often find a game that approximates the new one. In this case, I own Dune Imperium, which, like The Lost Ruins of Arnak, is a deckbuilder with worker placement elements and a game board. Sure, the themes are markedly different (Indiana Jones exploration versus Landsraad conflict), but the mechanics feel close enough not to justify a purchase (for me, anyway).

...Or doesn't it? The internal conflict of many board gamers is whether to stratch that gem purchase itch or not. It's like any other hobby, I suppose: if you are interested in kayaking, for instance, you buy a starter kayak, then a kayak with more features, and then better paddles, a customized seat, a flashy life-vest, and other accoutrements. Soon enough, you realize that you no longer ride that old kayak or use those old paddles (oars?); they just sit on the shelf. For board gamers, though, the problem is compounded because (and this may be a novel idea for some) the old games were not really supplanted by the new games.

Think about it... Let's say you still own those classic gateway games. Did any game really replace Ticket to Ride? If you have a game that truly replaced the theme and mechanics of Ticket to Ride, why not sell or offload Ticket to Ride? Why keep both? If both games are different yet similar, what is compelling you to keep them? Do you have time to play both? There are so many questions that one should ask oneself when facing a purchasing dilemma. Sadly, there is no one right answer when it comes to scratching that gem purchase itch. For me, though, I have a limited amount of time and a lot of great games that cover my favorite themes and mechanics. Why buy a new game that does what one of my current games does?

Over the course of the next several (or more) articles, I aim to revisit the "old" games of my collection. I will ask the questions I posed above, hoping to equip you with the tools you need to make prudent buying decisions. Sure, we should support the board gaming industry. Yes, it is okay to buy a (or numerous) board games, especially if it's within your personal budget (don't use your rent or utility money - that's my recommendation). However, whenever I stare at Yokohama or Lorenzo il Magnifico on my shelf, I lament at how I have not had the chance to dive into the strategic intricacies of the games I have. Why buy more when I have a lot of great ones?

Settlers of Canaan: 1HN Catan Redux

Among Christians, there seems to be a trend towards taking "secular" games and adding a Judeo-Christian flavor to it. The obvious examples of this are such games as Bible Scattergories and Bible Taboo (which is funnily ironic name), but some lesser-known ones are Ark of the Covenant, which was based on Carcassonne, and Redemption, which was the Christian community's response to Magic: The Gathering (it was not a copy of its gameplay, but it copied the collectability of Magic). Yet another prime example is Settlers of Canaan, which is the spitting image of Settlers of Catan.

Settlers of Canaan is, by and large, the same game as Catan. Much like Catan, the Settlers of Canaan board is laid out in hexagons with each one producing one of five resources: grain, sheep, wood, clay, and ore; and, each hex has a number from 2 to 12. You start off with placing a settlement and a road at the vertices of three hexagons. After each player has laid out two settlements and two roads (the two settlements may or may not connect to each other), they gather up one card for each resource their settlements touch. Then, gameplay begins. For those who are familiar with Catan, Canaan is very similar: a player rolls two dice, and then all players, including the rolling player, collect resource cards for each hex that their settlements touch that matches the number rolled. After that, the current player gets to trade resources with other players and build settlements, cities, and roads, or acquire development cards depending on which resources he or she possess. Canaan's Development cards are also similar to Catan's development cards, except that there are "Priest" cards instead of "Knight" cards and there are thematic cards that are similar in effect to Catan cards, but named differently. As in Catan, Canaan has bonuses for the longest road (two points) and most priests (two points). There are also developments that award victory points, just as in Catan. 

It would be too easy to state that Catan and Canaan are essentially the same game, but there are four key differences. The first difference is that the hexes in Canaan are fixed in position on a gameboard, whereas the hexes and numbers are randomly placed at the start of each game in Catan. This gives Catan a fresh feel every game, while Canaan's board is set (yet sufficiently balanced in its placement of resources, in my opinion). The second difference is that the Canaan has Jerusalem and its wall at the lower part of the board; players can add a stone to the wall of Jerusalem by spending the appropriate resources during their turns. Whoever has a majority of stones in Jerusalem's wall gets a two-point bonus and a favorable trade ratio of two of any resource chosen for the "King's Blessing" in exchange for one of any other resource. The third key difference is the Robber: in Catan, if you roll a 7, you control the Robber, a nefariously black token that can be placed on a hex, rendering that hex ineffective until the Robber is moved. In addition, the player who places the Robber can then take a card from a player whose settlement is touching the occupied hex. Thus, it is called the "Robber." However, in Canaan, the Robber is called "the Plague." It works the same way as in Catan, except that a dark stone is placed in Jerusalem's wall. Lastly, there is a copper hex that provides one resource of a player's choice if a 10 is rolled and a player has a settlement touching that hex; this is somewhat minor, yet noteworthy because there is no "wild" tile in Settlers of Catan and this may affect early-game settlement placement.

Gameplay continues in Canaan until a player gains twelve victory points, which is two more than Catan, thus extending the game a bit. Points are tracked on the gameboard on a separate counter, so the need for math during the game is reduced (unlike Catan, in which there is no scoreboard and you have to constantly count people's settlements and cities). As with Catan, the accumulation of settlements and cities is important, but the most fun part of both games is negotiation. Can I get the ore and grain I need to transform my one-point settlement into a two-point city? Will someone trade me that clay I need to build that settlement? Will I get that clay and stone I need to allow me to lay that precious stone in Jerusalem so that I can take the King's Blessing from someone? All of these questions are more often solved in trading than with mere dice rolls; this is the beauty of Catan and Canaan.

The Settlers of Canaan, much like Catan, is a wonderful family game that also serves as a gateway game to more complex Euro-style games, which are often economy-based with indirect competition. In Canaan, you don't trounce your opponents as much as lock them out of certain hexes with key settlement placements. In this way, I can see how Cactus Game Design saw that they could tweak the classic Catan with a Judeo-Christian theme and it would be palatable for Christian families. I certainly understand that sentiment and am appreciative of it, but I admit that, of all games, Catan was one game that didn't need a makeover. By itself, it's a fine family game that is non-violent and only as cutthroat as the players who play it. I have played Catan and Canaan and found that Catan would be just as agreeable as Canaan, if not better because Catan has a bevy of expansions from which you can enhance the game. One thing I should mention is that I suppose that the concept of "stealing" wasn't Christian enough, so the "Robber" was changed to a "Plague, but is "Plague" really better than a "Robber?" I mean, I know that it's wrong and sinful to steal, but it's a legitimate game action to take someone's card with the Robber/Plague; if it's a legit move, is it really "robbing?" In my opinion, it is this kind of kneejerk reaction to secondary elements in games that often drives the Christian-theme market (and sells games to overly "religious" people).

This takes me to a point I made in a previous post about magic: I don't have a hard and fast rule against all references to magic in games. If magic is an integral part of a game, I make a determination about whether it would affect me and my sons or not. However, if it's an ancillary part of the game, such as it is in the Zelda video games or in such board games as Dominion, I may allow it depending on the imagery and the rules. I look at Catan in the same way when it comes to "robbing"; I know it's not stealing in the sinful sense, and I know that it's defined in the rules. Why can't we just call it "robbing" instead of a "Plague," which just sounds even more awful, in my opinion?