You bought it for a reason. Maybe you watched a review that called it one of the most tense, thematic cooperative experiences in modern board gaming. Maybe it was in a BGG Top 100 list and the price was right. Maybe a friend told you it was the best solo game they’d ever played. You opened the box. You saw the rulebook. And somewhere between page 4 and page 14, you made a silent agreement with yourself: not tonight. ...
You bought A Feast for Odin because it’s one of the highest-rated games on BoardGameGeek, because you love Vikings, because you love Uwe Rosenberg, or because someone told you it’s the ultimate worker placement game. Maybe all four. And then you opened the box. Hundreds of tiles. A player board covered in negative points. An action board with sixty-one action spaces spread across thirteen columns. Weapon cards. Occupation cards. Island boards. Mountain strips. A feeding phase. An income phase. Something called a “Thing Square.” ...
