by: Michael Barnes

CYCLADES, the new Asmodee/Matagot game from veteran designers Bruno Cathala and Ludovic Maublanc, is quite a surprise. I came into my first test game expecting to enjoy it because it seemed to make the most of its Grecian fantasy setting with great-looking artwork, multifaceted and thematic gameplay, and some really awesome figures including the best Kraken I’ve seen to date in a board game. What was surprising was not only how good the game actually was, but also how robust the design turned out to be.

CYCLADES is a kind of game that is surprisingly rare in the hobby field, one that has fairly stripped-down, back-to-basics rules but with a hearty stew of elements including direct player competition, development, and economics. There are action cards, auctions, and little plastic soldiers fighting for land. You can play it defensively or go all-out on the offensive. There’s collection mechanics and even a little negotiation if your group warrants it. It would be tough to say that this is a game for everybody regardless of their taste in games, but I’ll be damned if it isn’t pretty close to that estimation.

Set among islands in the Aegean sea in a Grecian world that is as much Edith Hamilton as it is Herodotus, CYCLADES tasks players with creating two metropolises from either a set of four buildings, each honoring a particular deity, or rounding up four Philosophers. The map is mostly sea so naval maneuvers and transport (and homage to Poseidon) are essential. Small islands feature a couple of building sites and possibly a Prosperity marker indicating that the island provides an income. Unit count is low and clutter is at a minimum- the geography and very high-level scale keeps the proceeding tight and focused.

In each round, four large god tiles are shuffled and players bid to pay tribute to them. Once a player is outbid, they immediately rebid on another god or bump down to Apollo, who is apparently the god of the broke-as-a-joke as he provides the destitute with a dollar and a new Prosperity marker to place on one of the islands to increase its value. The gods serve as an action/role selection mechanic as well, with each imparting exclusive rights to one of the game’s four principle actions. Zeus allows the player to buy Priest cards that provide discounts for future bidding. Ares is your man when you need to move or buy troops. Poseidon gets your shipyards working and your boats sailing. Athena doesn’t really do anything, but she’ll let you buy Philosophers and four of those net a metropolis. Each god also has a particular building that can be built when the player is their patron, and that’s primarily how you win the game.

It’s all pretty easy—the rules are extremely brief and there isn’t any bloat disguised as “clever mechanics” or indulgent folderol intended to make the game feel bigger or more strategic than it really is. The only other mechanics are a simple die-based combat scheme and the ability to purchase monster cards, which is where the game gets a little crazy—the good kind of crazy. The monsters are fun and add some nasty and dangerous effects that you’re going to want to save your money for; using the Pegasus to airdrop a load of infantry on a finished metropolis that an opponent has neglected to defend is awfully satisfying, and anyone who has ever seen either version of CLASH OF THE TITANS is going to find it hard to resist uttering the classic “Release the Kraken!” line when that critter pops up and capsizes a couple of boats sitting on a trade route space.

Cruising in at around 60 minutes at most tables, the biggest risk a game like this takes in attempting to pack in such a broad scope is in failing to provide the players with a sense of a complete narrative and developmental curve. Too often in games of this class I hear (and often say) that the game ends before it gets good. CYCLADES dodges this bullet fairly well and most games I’ve played have felt complete and extremely satisfying given the minimal time investment and rules weight, but there is a certain volatility that can lead to games ending abruptly or anti-climactically.