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Zombies are everywhere and there’s nothing we can do to stop them.
Of course, by zombies, I mean “shows, movies, games and a paraphernalia related to the flesh-munching undead.” What was once a niche horror subgenre has become commonplace. The success of The Walking Dead has has pulled zombies kicking and screaming into the mainstream. Films like World War Z have given the traditionally genre an expensive blockbuster makeover. Zombies are everywhere. Yes, they’re even in board games.
If you want to join me up on a high horse, zombies actually feel more at home on your table than on AMC. At one time, the walking dead appealed to horror geeks and horror geeks alone, so it makes sense that this subject would be the peanut butter to tabletop gaming’s chocolate. Sure, there are bunch of posers who say they love zombies and have seen every episode of The Walking Dead, but folks like you and me can make Fulci references while killing armies of zombies on our kitchen tables with Goblin’s greatest hits blasting in the background.
Okay. Now that we’ve proven how much hipper and cooler we are than everyone else in the world, let’s get down to brass tacks and talk about some zombie board games. Specifically, let’s talk about the three best zombie board games, the cream of the crop in a stupidly saturated market.
The great joy of the zombie genre has always been its versatility. Zombie movies are rarely actually about the undead, using hordes of shambling corpses as an excuse to examine humanity at its worst and best. Similarly, zombie board games tend to use this eye-catching theme to play with varied mechanics. Strip away the subject matter and you won’t find three more different games than Last Night on Earth, City of Horror and Zombicide. Sure, all of them see you dealing with a nasty zombie problem, but they all offer their own unique flavors and rewards.
Last Night on Earth has been selling out at game shops since 2007 and for good reason: in addition to that ever-popular zombie theme, it’s insanely accessible and one of the first games newly minted gamers tend to pick up. Set in a small rural town (randomly constructed from modular tiles), the game splits the table into two teams: the humans and the zombies. Each human player controls an individual hero with unique benefits and barriers while the zombie player controls an entire horde of the undead. The players pick a scenario (escape town, kill twelve zombies, defend the mansion, etc) and then it’s off to the races, with both teams working to prevent the other from accomplishing their goals.
What’s truly special about Last Night on Earth is the instant playful antagonism it creates around the table. The hopelessly outnumbered human players have to work together or die quickly, so the result is an instant camaraderie. Plans and strategies are hatched, successful dice rolls are cheered, taunts are thrown at the zombie player and so on. But that zombie player, working alone but in control of a literal army, gets to plot in secret. Listening in on everything his delicious human opponents are saying, he can play the long game. Playing as a human and successfully killing a zombie is a good time, but playing as the zombies and watching your opponents slowly start to worry and panic as your horde cuts off their every escape is one of the most satisfying experiences you’ll ever have while gaming.
Although Last Night on Earth is a competitive game, it’s ultimately about cooperation, forcing people to band together if they want to survive. It makes you feel good about yourself and it builds bonds. You’ll never forget that time the Sheriff arrived in the nick of time to distract the zombies, allowing your buxom farm girl enough time to get to the truck and save the rest of the crew. Last Night on Earth is a truly cinematic experience, with the best games generating a story that feels like it was ripped out of a low budget horror movie. Even when you lose, it’s a game that’ll leave you happy and laughing and ready to try again with another scenario.
But what would happen if zombies really invaded your town? Would you band together, find a bunch of weapons and work together to destroy the horde? Or would you all cower in the few safe buildings, doing everything in your power to survive, even if it means turning off your soul and becoming a loathsome, despicable bastard? City of Horror is an cynical as Last Night on Earth is positive and it’s one of the most uncomfortable, gut-wrenching, friendship-wrecking games you’ll ever put on your table. It’s amazing, but it’s also the kind of game that can truly sour an evening if you play with the wrong group.
Like Last Night on Earth, City of Horror takes place in a small town under siege by zombies. Unlike Last Night on Earth, the zombies are controlled by the game itself, with each player taking control of a group of survivors. Your goal is simple: be the player to have the most survivors alive at the end of the game, when a military helicopter arrives to evacuate the town. The first thing you’ll notice during a round of City of Horror is that there’s rarely enough shelter for every character. There are almost no weapons and those that you do find are one-use only. The only way to keep your people alive is to be selfish and do nothing out of charity.
Example: zombies descend on the church and unless the survivors can kill a couple of them, they’ll be attacked. One player at the table has a molotov cocktail and can take care of the problem. But why should he? Why should he waste his valuable weapon to help someone else when his people need protection? The players in the church beg and plead, promising to give him cards and vaccines and future support if he’ll save their lives. And that’s what City of Horror is really about. It’s not about killing zombies, but about bargaining and manipulating everyone else at the table to further your interest. It’s a dark, soulless game that paints a grim picture of what people would actually do during a zombie invasion.
When zombies do invade a location and no one can defend themselves, there is only one thing to do: everyone present votes on which character they’re going to toss to the horde to keep them occupied while the rest escape. That’s right: the main gameplay mechanic of City of Horror is deciding which character you want to murder in order to keep your team alive. If you imagine this leading to grudges, bickering and petty vengeance, you’re imagining correctly.
One game of City of Horror saw the group barricaded in the bank vote to toss the eight year old girl into the crowd of zombies outside. Another saw a priest use explosives to blow up the water tower and every character on it as revenge for their actions earlier in the game. My girlfriend, usually open minded and down for any game, refuses to go near City of Horror anymore. She speaks of it with venom in her voice. It’s a masterpiece of feel-bad gaming.
After the darkness of City of Horror, a game like Zombicide should come as a welcome change of pace. Although similar to Last Night on Earth upon first glance, it’s actually a very different experience, a “dungeon crawler” style game stripped down and given a coat of impressive zombie-themed paint. You’d be hard-pressed to find a better produced game than Zombicide, which costs $90 but earns it with gorgeous modular tiles, impressive figurines, fun art and a more zombie figurines than you could possibly imagine.
Zombicide is a fully cooperative game, with each player taking on an individual hero and a deck of increasingly nasty cards controlling the movement and spawning of the zombies. Depending on the scenario, the Zombicide board can range from tiny to massive, but the urban setting is a nice change of pace from the cramped small town feeling of Last Night on Earth and City of Horror. Trying to navigate an entire city crawling with the undead is a terrifying and stressful experience. Although it’s certainly possible to feel overwhelmed in other zombie games, Zombicide is the first to truly paint a seemingly insurmountable situation. When you realize that your battered troupe of survivors has to battle though six zombie-infested blocks and the game has the proper components to create that sense of scale, the feeling of dread is palpable.
Although it’s the best game out there at actually making you feel like you’re stuck in the middle of a zombie infestation, Zombicide is also one of the simplest and most straightforward games you’ll ever bring to table (sometimes to a fault). Movement and combat are incredibly simple, so much of your focus will be on working together to survive instead of battling the rulebook. Although the odds are always against you, the game rewards teamwork and dramatic gestures, so laughter, cheering, exclamations of love and high five are par for the course in a Zombicide session. There is nothing in this game that’s as clever or radical as City of Horror’s voting system, but sometimes you just want a big bowl of buttery popcorn. This is the tabletop equivalent of a crowd-pleasing blockbuster — it’s simple, built to appeal to as many people as possible, totally accessible and leaves everyone pumped when the final zombie (or human) falls dead.
But which one of these games is the best? On some level, it’s unfair to compare them. Without the zombie theme, each of them operates on such a different level that it feels strange that they’re even connected at all. I’m partial to City of Horror’s unrelenting bleakness, but I also can’t get enough of Zombicide and its “kill as many zombies as possible while your teammates cheer on” approach to the genre. Last Night on Earth is probably the most well-rounded of the bunch, but it’s are leaves a lot to be desired — it’s not nearly as sexy to look at as the other two.
The simple recommendation is to buy ’em all since they’re all going to scratch different itches. If you’re new to gaming, Last Night on Earth is probably going to be your new favorite game for a few months. If you want something that’s actually going to challenge you (and doesn’t have any dice or random chance), City of Horror is the best kind of poison. Zombicide is going to make everyone happy, even thought it’s lacking any kind of actual depth.
In short, there’s no reason to pick up the licensed Walking Dead board game unless you hate yourself and enjoy bad things. Zombies may be everywhere, so it’s by default that they’ve invaded plenty of exceptional tabletop games.
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It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
My bumbling but stone-cold-evil ship captain was supposed to cross the Atlantic without a hitch. Brian’s simple-minded saboteur was supposed to sink the ship in act of petty vengeance. Chris’ eccentric detective was supposed to track down that mystical dagger that’s gone missing. And Toni…well, I’m not sure what Toni’s original plans were, but I’m fairly certain she didn’t see herself instigating the end of the world with a plot that would earn Cthulhu’s nod of approval.
In short, it was safe to call the whole thing a fiasco. Which is really appropriate since we we were playing a game of Fiasco, the brilliant and endlessly repayable indie role playing game that just-so-happens to be one of the greatest things to ever hit my table. It’s the perfect RPG for people tired of hack-and-slash fantasy. More importantly, it’s the perfect RPG for people who are completely new to this type of game.
Segue: accomplished.
Designed by Jason Morningstar, Fiasco is a RPG that’s about as far from a session of Dungeons & Dragons than you can possibly imagine. More like a loosely structured combination of writer’s room and improv exercise than a typical game, Fiasco asks three to five players to build a perilous, verge-of-disaster style situation before gleefully tearing it down. Although the rule book cites the pitch-black comedies and noirs of the Coen brothers as a chief influence, the game is only limited by the imaginations of the players, with the group around the table building a story that can be realistically devastating or completely out of this world.
Did my latest group set out to tell a story that felt like a Marx brothers comedy written by HP Lovecraft? No, but it’s what emerged organically from all of us putting our demented, beer-drenched, horrifyingly immature brains together.
The real beauty of Fiasco is that it offers seemingly unlimited depth from a very simple framework of rules. First, players select a Playset, AKA, the setting in which your tale of woe and mayhem will take place. Some of these are simple (“A Nice Southern Town”) and some get awesomely specific and niche (the De Medici family in Renaissance Italy), but with dozens of official and unofficial sets available for free online, you’ll surely find one that appeals to your group. Then you roll a whole bunch of dice in the middle of the table and must use the available numbers to build a web of relationships, needs, objects and locations that tie everyone at the table together. Eventually, every player at the table will be connected in perilous, unstable, selfish and hilarious ways, with a story already beginning to emerge.
If you and the player to your left share a crime relationship and and a need to get revenge on a family member, then maybe the guy you want to take down is the player to your right, who has been established as your father-in-law. And maybe that player is the mayor, who shares some shady blackmail photos with the player to her right. You can already see the possibilities, and that’s only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the web of relationships you’ll build.
And then it’s all carefully plotted chaos from there (or not so carefully plotted, depending on your group). Players take turns establishing scenes, with everyone roleplaying their characters as they pursue whatever it is that they’re after (the more selfish and petty the better). Outcomes of scenes are decided by the non-active players handing out black or white dice, deciding whether or not a scene ends well or poorly for the subject. It’s a brilliant system — if you want your character to succeed at his plans, you’ve got to captivate the rest of the table and convince them that your scene should end well.
There are no winners or losers in Fiasco — it’s all just group storytelling, with the goal being to create the most twisted and imaginative tale possible. There are a few other rules (the “Tilt” introduces new twists halfway through the game, and the “Aftermath” is a brilliant mechanic that has everyone creating an end-of-movie montage of what happened to the characters), but they exist simply to facilitate your story and keep things interesting.
To give you an idea of Fiasco’s range, here are a few of the stories I’ve created with my friends using this system:
A young minister attempts to take down his boss, who may or may not have taken advantage of a young boy years before, by corrupting a church volunteer into seducing him and exposing him for what he is. Meanwhile, the now-grown victim grows increasingly close to a breakdown.
An antarctic research base is visited by a FBI agent, who suspects that the installation’s military commander is an impostor (Spoiler: he is). Things get complicated when the FBI agent’s petty, vengeful girlfriend is revealed to be working on the base alongside an innocent young intern, who the fake commander manipulates into helping silence the agent once and for all.
And, of course, there’s the game I described at the top of this very column, where the passengers on board a 1932 transatlantic cruise liner engaged in a plot so bizarre and meta that it all-but-demands Graham Chapman to march into the plot and announce that it’s all too silly. I can’t help but imagine Morningstar seeing this particular session and sighing the deepest or sighs, but damn it, fun is fun and I’ve yet to play a game of Fiasco where I haven’t enjoyed myself.
The most miraculous thing about Fiasco (besides its slim but seemingly limitless rule book) is what a truly collaborative and positive experience it is. Although the stories you generate tend to range dark to uncomfortably bizarre, few games will make you laugh as much and fewer games will push you to be so creative. With no game master, Fiasco allows everyone to work together, pausing scenes to ask for suggestions and letting players throw out suggestions from the sidelines. Shy players needn’t worry — Fiasco may ask you to play a character, but it never puts you on the spot. There is no wrong way to play. There is only bullshitting with your buddies. And your bullshit will occasionally be hilarious. Sometimes, it’ll be compelling and dramatic. Hell, a game with a few vets can be an unexpectedly moving experience.
If you’re a writer or an actor or a creative person in general, there are few games that’ll scratch your itch to create as well as Fiasco. If you like your games rigid and enjoy a clear sense of direction with obvious goals and a winner and some losers, this is not for you. All I can say is that I regularly think about the stories I’ve created in Fiasco. I wonder what would have happened if my character had been more sympathetic or a little less selfish. I wonder what would have happened if the dice had rolled a little differently and I was an upstanding businessman and not a crack dealer. I wonder if we were too harsh on a character and that giving him a black die and damning him to a painful beat-down at the hands of the Mexican mafia was the wrong decision.
Most of all, I wonder when I can play again.
While I have your attention, I’d like to use this space to introduce you to Chairman of the Board’s companion audio show, The Die Cast. You can find additional information about the show and this episode in particular over at its main page, but here are the basics: for our debut episode, I sat down with One Of Us champions Brian Salisbury, Chris Cox, Toni Taylor-Salisbury and Ashley Moreno for a round of Fiasco. Things got really weird. They also got a little drunk. Then they got pretty nonsensical, offensive and slightly incomprehensible. We do not mean half of the things we say. We are so sorry.
In the future, the Die Cast will include additional RPG sessions (including more, er, controlled Fiasco), interviews with game designers and scintillating conversation about the latest and greatest in the tabletop gaming world. In the meantime, enjoy our debut episode and don’t be afraid to let us know what you think in the comments below!
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