Board games

Connect four against the almanac, a wax-seal duel with a cunning opponent.

The classic disc-flipping game of sun and moon on an eight by eight board: bracket a line of your rival’s discs between two of yours and the whole line flips to your colour. Corners can never be turned, so fight for them. When neither side can move, the larger half of the sky takes the board. Solo against the almanac or live at the open tables.

Checkers as a candlelit board of wax seals: slide your oxblood seals a square at a time, take the forced jumps and chain them where they line up, and crown a king at the far row to move both ways. Take or trap all your rival’s seals to win. Solo against the almanac or live at the open tables.

Noughts and crosses against a flawless hand, sun and moon seals on a candlelit grid.

Full chess, nothing spared: castling, en passant, promotion, the fifty-move rule and every honest draw. The Bishop plays at three strengths, from a patient novice who hangs pieces to a five-move reader who does not forgive. Move generation proven against the old perft counts.

Full backgammon against the Chapman: the law of the dice kept exactly, blots to the bar, honest bear-offs, and gammons counted against you both. Three tempers of opponent, from a gentle hand to a merchant who has hustled dice for five thousand years.

The oldest counting game there is, played against the Shepherdess: lift a pitful and sow it round the board, land in your granary to sow again, and reap the pit across when your last seed finds an empty one. Forty-eight seeds, and the fuller granary takes the board.

The pencil-and-paper classic against the Pardoner: draw a fence, close a field to claim it and fence again, and learn why the last two boxes of a chain are sometimes a gift you should refuse. Twenty-five fields, chains that fall all at once, and an opponent who counts them.

The call-your-shots classic against the Ferryman: two fleets of five hidden in the fog, one broadside a turn, and a ship named only when the last of her goes under. He fires by the currents, reckoning where your hulls could lie; spread thin or cluster and dare him.

The oldest board in the parish, cut into cloister seats and church porches: place your nine men, shift them along the lines, and close three in a row to take an enemy man. Fly at three, fall below it and the field is lost. The Hayward keeps the solo board; the open tables seat a living rival.

The oldest board in the world, on a nine by nine field against the Hermit: lay stones at the crossings, surround to capture, and wall off more of the empty ground than he does. Two passes close the reckoning; the area you hold, plus komi, takes the board. Solo against the Hermit or live at the open tables.

Chinese chess against the Marshal: chariots and cannons, horses that can be hobbled, elephants that cannot cross the river, and generals who may never meet on an open file. Run his general down with nowhere to step. Solo against the Marshal or live at the open tables.

Two-hand block dominoes against the Tinker: seven bones each from the double-six set, fourteen asleep in the boneyard, and not a bone drawn all night. Match the open ends, knock when nothing plays, and count the pips when the hand goes out or the board blocks. First to one hundred. Solo or live at the open tables.

The drop-disc classic on the seven-by-six frame against the Tiler: discs fall to the floor of their column, and four in a line, across, down, or aslant, takes the board at once. The middle column touches the most lines, and the strongest traps offer two finishes. Solo or live at the open tables.

The connection duel on the eleven-by-eleven lattice against the Tiler: one stone a turn, and the first unbroken chain between your two sides takes the board. The swap rule keeps the opening honest, every cell touches six, and the old theorem promises there are no draws, ever. Every wall you build is also a road. Solo or live at the open tables.

The Victorian race game the whole jumping family descends from, against the Shepherdess: nineteen men each on the sixteen-by-sixteen board, one step or a chain of leaps over any man, nothing ever captured. Build ladders and the flock rides them across the board in single turns. First to fill the far yard wins outright. Solo or live at the open tables.

The game the world calls chinese checkers, by its true name: halma’s law on the six-point star, against the Pilgrim. Ten pegs a side, one step or a chain of hops over any peg, ladders running the length of the board, nothing ever captured. First to fill the far point wins outright. Solo or live at the open tables.

The Viking siege game against the Ferryman, and never once a fair fight: sixteen besiegers ring a king and his eight, every piece a rook, and captures close like a jaw. The king falls only surrounded and wins the moment he reaches a corner; a side left moveless loses where it stands. Hold either side of the board. Solo or live at the open tables.

The honest pawn race against the Reeve: two ranks of pawns, every step forward, straight into the empty or diagonally to capture. Nothing retreats, nothing promotes, and the first pawn to reach the far rank wins on the spot. No draws, no stalls, nowhere to hide. Solo or live at the open tables.

The medieval line-game draughts descends from, against the Netmender: twelve men a side on the twenty-five points of the old web, stepping along the drawn lines. A man beside a foe with the empty point beyond must leap him, and the leap chains as long as it runs. Strip the far side bare, or seal it still, and the game is yours. Solo or live at the open tables.

The great medieval hunt on the cross board, against the Drover: one fox with the leap, seventeen geese with the numbers. The fox leaps goose after goose in chains he may break at will; the geese step down the board or sideways, never back, and win by pinning him moveless. Thin the flock below six and no pen can close. A hunt that marks time is the fox’s: repetition or three hundred moves means he slips away. No draws. Hold either side. Solo or live at the open tables.

The modern connection classic against the Netmender: twelve checkers a side, and every move flies exactly as far as its whole line is full, both colours counted. Fly over your own, never the foe, land on an enemy to take it. First side gathered into one connected body wins, corners counting and a lone survivor counting; join both sides at once and the mover takes it. Solo or live at the open tables.

The modern territory classic against the Reeve: four amazons a side on the ten-by-ten board, and every move two slides in one breath: the queen’s glide, then the arrow, and the square it strikes burnt for good. Nothing is captured and the board only shrinks: the player who finds no move has lost, and there are no draws at all. Think in rooms; every arrow is a wall. Solo or live at the open tables.