Right
after the Great War, allied powers gathered in France to rearrange the debris
left in the wake of that terrible conflict. Part genuine effort to put
everything right again and part power grab, the Paris Peace Conference sprawled
over six months and produced an extraordinary document that would officially
close the books on the first world war.
And
buy the globe a 20-year reprieve.
In Versailles 1919, players take on the
roles of France, Italy, the United States and the United Kingdom as each nation
attempts to make its voice heard, right some wrongs, and generally tug on the
rope in its own direction. Diplomacy may be the order of the day, but there are
deals to be made at that vast table, and so be it if some regions of the world
require one more display of military might.
Far
from the hexagonized battlefields, the board represents a lavish conference
table, complete with adjoining waiting room, as well as polished charts where
players track both the deployment of military units and the happiness level of
their respective homes.
At
any given time, the conference table houses two issues currently under
discussion (say, the fate of Armenia, or whether or not racial equality will be
included in the League Charter) as well as the current event card. In the
waiting room, three more issues and two additional events bide their time. But
not for long.
The
object of the game is for each player to shape the post-war world in his
nation’s favor. Alliances might come and go when objectives align (and then
don’t), but ultimately it’s every nation for itself. On his turn, a player can
perform one of two Military Actions:
Deploy a military unit to exert some measure of control over a region of
the world in turmoil, which grants certain abilities but lowers the happiness
level of a nation who’s had enough of armed conflict; or Demobilize that same
unit, which curtails a nation’s physical reach but reassures a grieving
homeland (and drives up the always problematic Happiness counter). Whatever the
active player decides on the military front, however, he must perform one of three Political Actions: Place Influence on two
issues, Settle an Issue, or Reclaim Influence from the exhausted box on the
board. Each action is mechanically simple, but also rife with consequences and
fruitful—or wasted—opportunities.
Placing
influence is straightforward enough: the player drops wooden cubes on two
issues of his choice, either on the table, in the waiting room, or a
combination of the two. And therein lies the catch: in order to add influence,
the player must ensure that he gains absolute majority on both selected issues. Not enough cubes to satisfy that requirement?
This action becomes unavailable.
Settling
an issue sees the relevant card handed to the player with the most influence
cubes on it—which does not always happen to be the active player. The issue’s
winner scores the associated victory points and must decide how to settle that
issue, picking one out of two or three options. Let’s use the fate of German
trade as an example: will it be allowed to flourish, or left to languish in a
restricted context? The Open Trade option drops an Industry marker on the card
and lowers France’s happiness, while Limited Trade adds a Reparation token to
the card, lowers US happiness and increases unrest in Europe. Choose wisely: all
of those markers will be worth points at the end of the game, depending on
selected scoring cards.
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A typical issue, with two options to choose from
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After an issue is settled, the event card currently on
the table is resolved, causing anything from the retrieval of spent influence
cubes to unhappiness for nations with deployed military units. Then, the active
player brings a new issue and a new event from the waiting room to the table,
and a random crisis is triggered. And let’s face it: most of those crises are
uprisings in the making. (More on those later.)
Retrieving
influence involves nothing more than taking back a handful of cubes from the
exhausted box, along with whatever military units might happen to be waiting
there. But the timing of this action—in essence a “skip a turn to come back
stronger” move—will often make or break the success of a nation as it tries to
control the playing field, and retires for a quick rest when matters cease to
concern its interests, if only for a short while.
Uprisings,
you say? Very well, let’s get these out of the way.
When
an Uprising Check is required, the region under the most stress is subjected to
a die roll: the higher the roll (and the higher the unrest in the targeted
region), the better the chances of an actual uprising. Military units deployed
to checked regions allow for some die roll manipulation: boots on the ground can
help push the turmoil pendulum in one direction or another. Should an uprising
actually come to pass, the player holding the most issues pertaining to the
affected region loses the issue worth the most VPs: that issue is unsettled and
goes back to the table. (This represents the issue being brought up and debated
once more.) Players bid military units and influence cubes, with the highest
bidder assuming (or reassuming) control of the issue at hand, and then deciding
its fate anew, hopefully scoring a few much needed markers.
This
strange waltz keeps on until the Game End issue card shows up, heralding the
game’s imminent conclusion. As soon as that particular issue is brought to the
table, and a player decides to settle it, the game is over.
Then,
a combination of scoring cards and relevant markers, happiness levels, own
flags proudly displayed on won issues, and point values on issue cards
themselves determine each nation’s final score. Whoever records the highest
number in his log leaves the table a victor.
WAR
PRODUCTION
Versailles 1919 comes with a
mounted six-panel board, and a host of counters to represent the variety of
outcomes settling an issue one way or another might generate. Issues are
represented by beautiful tarot-size cards, while events reside in a regular
deck of equally adorned cards. Wooden cubes for influence points, wooden discs
for military units—some of the game’s understated material belies the forces
unleashed through the drawn-out negotiations.
Also
in the box sits a scoring pad that seems to take up a lot of space: indeed, scoring
a four-player game where each participant is required to add seven numbers
feels like it shouldn’t invade an entire letter-sized sheet of paper. (I ended
up creating my own compact scoring sheet.) As of this writing, GMT was unfortunately
not providing a printable scoring sheet on their website—a temporary situation,
to be sure.
GMT
games are usually overflowing with dense player aids, whereas Versailles 1919 features but one, devoted
to explaining extra steps involved in solo play. Otherwise, the rules of the
game are so straightforward that a summary fits snuggly on two-sided reminder
cards distributed to all players.
Some
minor mistakes made their way onto a handful of cards, and while those are no
game-breakers by any means, GMT is having the culprits reprinted and will make
them available for free to customers who have purchased Versailles 1919.
RULES
OF ENGAGEMENT
The
game only needs 14 pages of rules; add a couple more for two-player and solo
instructions. As short as the rulebook stands, it does a fine job teaching the
game, in a style that both flows as a learning tool and clicks as a reference
manual.
Learning
how to play Versailles 1919 requires
a single reading of those rules, and explaining it no longer than 15 minutes.
Its inner workings are so easy to grasp, in fact, that new players will furrow
their brows and smile to themselves when, at the end of the short lesson, you
proclaim “that’s it!” and get the game started. Surely it can’t be that simple,
right?
Well,
the truth is wearing vertical stripes to make it look thinner.
You
see, while Versailles 1919 certainly
runs on a very simple engine, things quickly become tangled. A lot. Not so much
that you would fail to see the entire tree of ramifications for each of your
possible actions—but ramifications there are, and it’s not unusual for them to
reach surprising depths.
It’s
a real treat to see the slow-motion trap ensnare fresh victims as new players
engage with the game for the first time. The first few turns make it all feel
like you’ll be mindlessly sprinkling the board with influence cubes… and then,
when those cubes become scarce, knots tighten and players start to realize
their fates are entwined. How much can you pull on an opponent’s thread without
unraveling your own tapestry?
In
addition to designer notes and a nice historical commentary (I love that
stuff), the thick playbook provided with Versailles
1919 also sports two detailed examples of play: one for the multiplayer
game, and another for the solo affair. Unfortunately, the well-intentioned
examples are peppered with mistakes that make learning from those pages a
tricky proposition. GMT announced that corrected documents would soon be
available to download from gmtgames.com.
FUN
FACTOR
While
Versailles 1919 reads and looks like
a cerebral endeavor, a battle of wits, the game creates a visceral tension you
can only experience in playing through an actual game. The simple, thin layers
of complexity do stack up, and before too long you find yourself wondering if
you should get even more involved than you already are in the fate of the
Balkans, or perhaps turn instead your attention towards Europe. After all, the
populace is much more tranquil there. For now, anyway…
When
uprisings start blowing up various parts of the globe, navigating the
repercussions turns into a fascinating chess match. Impose order and your
homeland will hate you for it, but let things degenerate and you might end up
one of the casualties. In some cases, blaming another nation in order to steer
most of the chaos their way could be the best course of action—especially if
you can scoop up one of their previously settled issues and fashion it to fit your
own needs.
Because
of the clever way they are designed, end-game scoring cards encourage players
to collaborate, or at the very least leave each other be, for however long that
fragile marriage of convenience might last. For instance, if France holds a
scoring card worth 1 victory point for each Empire marker (of any nation) in
play, it might let the UK get away with a few choice moves, as long as it puts
some UK Empire markers on the table and provides France with some precious
victory points.
What’s
more, each game invariably ends too early. A couple more turns, and you would
have had the world just where you wanted it, with your allies playing the exact
roles you needed them to. Oh well. At 90 minutes a pop (perhaps all the way up
to 180 with a campaign game), why be content with just one go at it?
PARTING
SHOTS
As
expected with a game of this type, you don’t need a full complement of players
to enjoy Versailles 1919. But where
other concoctions might devolve into tasteless versions of themselves at lower
player counts, this brew loses no
flavor. Quite the contrary, in fact.
The
standard game plays with three or four players. All regular rules apply, compromises
are rampant, and game end shows up faster than an electricity bill in January.
What
happens with only two opponents? One player handles France and the other the UK,
but each also gets to play an action as
the USA at the end of his turn. So France will play his own turn and then an
action for the USA, followed by the UK playing his own turn and then an action
for the USA, and so on. This peculiar arrangement gives rise to tactics that
don’t exist with a table full of negotiators. One player will often perform a
counterintuitive USA action because it leaves no American way out for the
opponent, or else spend his turn building up for a long-term goal that would
normally leave him open to a flanking attack—only to use the USA action to
reinforce that very flank.
No
opponent handy for a game tonight? No problem. Borrowing from Herman’s own Peloponnesian War, solo V1919 requires one player to split his
time between France, the USA and the UK, in a variation where nation victory
points become Strength Points. The player starts in the driver’s seat of one
nation, while very simple bots handle the other two. When the player’s turn
starts, he scores one “player” victory point if the nation he’s playing
currently shows more Strength Points than its two adversaries. But whenever an
issue is unsettled, the player is forced to assume the role of the
straggler—the nation with the lowest strength. Remember, you only score a
victory point if the nation you’re playing has the most Strength Points when
your turn begins. So while you’re striving to maintain your current nation in
the lead, you must always keep things more or less balanced and make sure that
the other two negotiators are just a step behind; otherwise, you’ll spend too
many precious turns catching up with your feeble nation once you’re forced to
sit on the other side of the table. Victory is achieved by scoring 20 points by
the time the game ends.
I
think I still prefer the 4-player version, for the sheer brinkmanship gleaming
around the table with a full roster of opponents. But I’m having a lot of fun
with Versailles 1919 at all player
counts, and I marvel at the fact that those variations feel so different (and
yet so connected) that it’s almost like having three games in one box.
As
much as I was impressed with the system introduced in Herman’s Churchill, I vastly prefer this
simplified (and quite distinctive) version and would be thrilled if future
entries in the Great Statesmen series followed in Versailles 1919’s footsteps.
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