Disclosure: Meeple Mountain received a free copy of this product in exchange for an honest, unbiased review. This review is not intended to be an endorsement.
Drachentreppe is simple. Three to six players select one of their three wizards to activate and roll the single custom die to determine movement up a gorgeously tactile spiral staircase. Results of one, two, or three grant movement up the steps and the choice to keep going. The other three sides end the turn with something special. The “wizard up” side allows the active wizard to jump ahead to share a space with the next highest wizard. The “wizard down” side triggers a clumsy fall to the bottom (unless “caught” by a friendly wizard). The dragon side prompts a visit from—you guessed it—the dragon, which is good and leaves the player with an egg.
The simple, press-your-luck style is easy to understand and explain to adults and children alike. In practice, however, those simple rules reveal a host of inconsistencies and frustrations.
The spiral staircase has a crowding rule that will make adults reach for a bottle of wine as the children giggle. If a third wizard lands on any one stair, the one who has been there the longest falls, uncontrollably and uninterrupted, to the bottom. That’s right, there is little use building a stable home base here, because eventually—and by eventually, I mean often—the foundation will be eviscerated by everyone’s favorite tablemate: blind misfortune! Even the Parcheesi of old allowed for doubles to withstand the dreaded bump!
Falling wizards can be “caught” by another of their order (color), however, reducing the risk of a catastrophe, but remember that the crowding rule means the watchdog wizard can disappear in an instant, or faster if there are more than a few players. Thankfully, this can all happen in between turns, so there is little worth in precaution.
Thirty minutes later, parents will inexplicably reach for another bottle of wine, or something stronger, when the die ends yet another turn without movement or crushes yet another dream of finally bringing this medieval affair to an end. The use of a single die for as many as six players is both frustrating and very frustrating. If players are pushing their luck and moving, down time extends. If they’re not, game time extends. There is no true salve here to prevent a yawn or two.
Fractured Dragon
The seven-year-old at my table with infinite patience and a far more tolerant disposition toward Lady Fortune’s cruel whimsy giggled away at having broken the entire system in only her second play. Mind you, she would have done so in the first game had the aforementioned Lady not thwarted that effort by actually allowing movement up the stairs. But she realized the strategy even then and just waited for it in the next outing (I said she was patient).
The scoring suggests that the way to win is to climb the stairs and end the game by landing all three wizards at the top, with the leftover eggs serving as a bonus of sorts. But roughly one third of the way through the dastardly game two, my little girl said something along the lines of, “I’m going to win—look at all my eggs!” thus prompting the previously mentioned reach for another (adult) beverage. She never even tried to climb while my wife and I spent our eggs placing two wizards at the top. She amassed some thirteen eggs by game’s end, dominating the piddly six points awarded for, you know, climbing the stairs like the game title suggests. Once we lacked wizards to really compete in her unfortunately long game, it was over.
There is a limit on eggs, in that players take from the hoarder once the supply of eighteen is drained, but when one player is hoarding and the others are spending and climbing, there is a high possibility of imbalance. It may not work every time for the hoarder, but why bite and scratch against chance for six points when you can sit back for seven or more?
My daughter and I came to disparate conclusions in that second play. She was having the time of her life rolling dragons. The scaly beast does nothing to progress the game—it merely gives eggs as an apology for the lack of movement. Eggs serve two purposes: one as payment to reach the top step, and also as payment to avoid falling due to the die. The former is to the supply, the latter remains on the stairs for another wizard to pick up. But really, eggs are the key to victory. It takes a lot of work and frustration to earn six wizard points. Eggs demotivate participation by falling into players’ laps, rewarding sloth. I couldn’t help but think of Wingspan as I watched a frivolous egg-hoarding-rather-than-play tack serve up the gold medal in a three-player affair.
Frustrating
I was so excited when our beloved chief, Andy Matthews, reported that Drachentreppe crossed the Atlantic from this year’s Essen gathering. I was also amazed at how that excitement disappeared like a vapor after about an hour. There are interesting concepts in the box, but they just don’t hold together under the pressure of real play. One game was a snooze, the other a busted wreck. I’ve not had much interest in sharing it since.
Obviously, I could workshop the idea and house rule it until it works. One die for each player and real-time wizard sprinting? Maybe. A simpler limit on eggs? Probably frustrating for those who need eggs to climb, but maybe. One die per active wizard so that everyone has to move or do something? Game speed is the ultimate counter-argument to a pure game of chance, after all. But what I really want is for that to have been done in playtesting so we could enjoy the game together straight out of the box.
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