Chicken Caesar – Don’t Lose Your Head

Chicken Caesar is a game about self-righteous chicken families, each house out-foxing the other, so they aren’t dragged out by foxes.     Competition in the senate coop is fierce, dangerous and complicated, as players jockey their flock of cock, gathering accolades for their caucus.

There’s a Rube Goldberg madness in this game, as roosters rush to claim high office nests while filling the coffers of other coops with coin.  I couldn’t write a proper review of this game without picking this hen up to see what makes her cluck, so keep abreast.  We’re going to take a peep at the inner workings of The Rooster Senate.

The Senate is composed of four offices.  In the lower office we have The Adeile who establish the tax rate.  These three chickens argue the weighty issue of ‘how much of one’s livelihood should a citizen be expected to dispense to one’s state’, then each of The Adeile takes a share of the taxes for themselves (because collecting taxes is hard work) and gives a share to Caesar (because who’s going to say ‘no’ to Magni Pullus?)

The next highest office in The Senate is The Praetor, whose job is to oversee the guard.  the three Praetor assemble a deck of vigilant and traitorous guards, then take turns stationing guards around each office.  When the tax rate is high, more traitorous guards fill the ranks, allowing some senators to be carried away by foxes.  Since these roosters take democracy seriously, the fox are kind enough to let the roosters debate among themselves who will be dragged away.  Upon selection for service, that rooster nobly lowers himself, and is carried away by the jaws of destiny.

Next in rank, in the high offices, sits The Censor.  After The Praetor has established their guards, before the guards are revealed, The Censor chooses one rooster, rips him of his rank and exiles him.  The Censor may instead exile himself if he wishes.  After all, when the foxes are raiding the coop, the safest place to be is the wilderness.  If The Censor exiles himself, he can’t be The Censor any more, since he’s proven himself to be a base chicken.  He can, however, keep his insignia token.  If chickens couldn’t be in The Senate, then who would rule?

One office closer to Caesar sits The Consul.  The Consul’s job is to honor those roosters fallen before.  At the end of the game, we determine who won by counting up insignia of office.  But a rooster who’s held the same office twice doesn’t count their insignia twice for points.  If that rooster’s player wishes to receive credit for errant insignia, he can place the insignia at the feet of a fallen rooster’s monument who never held that office, and leave a coin beneath it, for the gods.  When The Consul take their turn, they alternate among them, picking up insignia, placing the insignia on the monument it was left by, and pocketing the coin.  Or, they can throw everything in the trash.  Since The Consul’s decision can make or break a house, players will be tempted to bribe The Consul, but it would be a terrible insult if a player bribed The Consul with money.  The Consul is above such petty bribes, and would never think to take other house’s hard earned Frumentum in exchange for posterity.  No, definitely not money.  It would be a shame, however, if those who deserved the honor of having their monument preserved did not receive such a service.  But, no, no, The Consul most definitely can not accept money to honor such deserving hierarchs.

The highest office is, of course, Caesar.  Caesar does nothing in his senate, since he’s busy with the problems of individual citizens and negotiating with far off kingdoms.  He is, however, allowed a veto, giving him the authority to overturn any one vote.  He also has a thankless job.  If the foxes drag a single rooster out of the senate, Caesar will be walked onto the portico of the senate house with a group of smiling senators, each with a hand behind their back as a sign of respect.  Good-byes like this are often heart wrenching.  In the end, The Senate will leave The Ex-Caesar some space so he can lie by himself on the bottom steps of the house, alone with whatever thoughts he may have left.

After The Senate has passed through it’s motions and various senators have been dragged away by foxes, it’s time to advance new roosters from The Quaestor into various empty offices.  Repeat ad nauseum.  There are a number of other rules.  In explaining this game, my instinct is to downplay how tricky it is to learn the rules to Chicken Caesar, but I’d be committing a disservice if I did.  Let’s put it this way:  I learn, on average, about a game a week.  I’m very familiar with unboxing a game, punching out the pieces, reading through the rules and teaching other people to play.  Since The Myriad Games Podcast play group is on par with my familiarity of games, we often read through and learn games together.  I had a hunch, though, that Chicken Caesar would be complicated, so I took it home and read through the rules.  It took me two hours before I could, with some measure of confidence, say that I understood this game.  At the tail end of that two hours was a half hour of searching the internet, clarifying rules that weren’t self-explanatory.  This game has a lot of moving parts, and the more balls you give me, the sloppier I am with the juggling.  Had I opened Chicken Caesar four years ago, before I became the experienced game reviewer I am today, I probably would have wrapped Chicken Caesar back up, returned it to the store, and bought something else.

That is not to say that Chicken Caesar isn’t a good game, but thank Jove it’s a game about poultry.  Had this game only been about The Roman Senate, this very good game that asks players to pull upon all kinds of skills would have been panned as an exercise in filibuster.   There are a number of spots where I wish John Sizemore and Bryan Fischer pulled back, and didn’t add as much detail to their game.  But I can’t be certain that Sizemore and Fischer’s decisions weren’t justified, since I’m only operating on one mock game, and a solid play through here.  For example, you get extra points at the end of the game if you have multiple of the same insignia (One Caesar insignia is worth 3 points, two is worth 9 and three is 18, etc., etc.).  My instinct is, that in a game as complicated as Chicken Caesar, we don’t need to add an extra layer when counting points at the end.  “Each Caesar insignia is worth 3 points”  is fine.  But maybe the designers make multiple insignias multiplicative for balance reasons?  I couldn’t tell you, since I haven’t played enough times to see how that particular hole could be exploited.  From the ground level, though, it often feels like the designers favored fixing problems with the game by adding rules as opposed to finding a way to work around the problem, or removing rules in order to remove the problem.  But if the designers had done what I would have favored, then we wouldn’t have an intricate web of decisions, nor would the game allow for such complex arguments, counter-arguments, convoluted bribes and honest backstabbing.

Chicken Caesar does what it does very well.  If you aren’t afraid of the intense entanglements it has to offer, you’re on your way to having a good time.  You will, of course, need to have friends that share your opinion on what makes a game good, and that can be tough.  While Chicken Caesar is playable with three players (we played it with three), I get the impression that it becomes more fun for four, and I’d hazard the game plays best with five.  It’s in the nature of how you vote.  Whenever a player votes, they pass a suffragium marker around the table.  It only takes two ‘yeas’ or ‘nays’ to pass or fail a vote.  That’s awkward in a three player game, since, Player One can suggests that Player Two’s chicken will be carried off by a fox, and, if Player Two says ‘no he should not’, then it’s in Player Three’s best interest to say ‘sure he does’, then pass the suffragium marker back to Player One, who will likely suggest another of Player Two’s chickens to die.  In order to stop this cycle, Player Two needs to agree with Player One… and even then that player has only slid the suffragium marker back one player, starting the next vote with Player Three.  It works; you can play with three players, but it must be more fun when you aren’t forced to agree with people, or forced to pay a coin to abstain and move the suffragium marker along.

So, before buying Chicken Caesar, you need to know three other like-minded people who aren’t scared of a lot of complexity in their board games.  There’s a lot of meat on these bones; Chicken Caesar is very hearty.  There’s a good chance, if you have the right group, that this is all the board game you will need for a very long time.  If that’s the caliber of player you intend to show Chicken Caesar to, then by all means, drag this down from your local game store shelf, pull out your Frumentum purse, and walk away a happy gamer. If, however, you can’t guarantee a game group who loves to learn and has an interest in clockwork mechanisms, then avoid Chicken Caesar.  That warning also goes for adults with very smart gamer children and play groups that include reluctant spouses.  Everyone needs to be on board to play a game like this.  I’m not saying you shouldn’t try Chicken Caesar with a talkative person who likes debating, but doesn’t like complicated rules.  People do surprise, after all.  If you already own a copy of Chicken Caesar and you want to bounce it off a group of ‘fun’ game players, then by all means, try it.  However, I wouldn’t buy Chicken Caesar unless you have lined up three other serious gamers who are ready to put effort into this game.  Those four people will have a great time.  If it’s game night, however, and one of your players unexpectedly brings along friend who hasn’t played many games, then lie.  Say you’re confused about a linchpin rule in Chicken Caesar, and you have to look it up later online.  Go back to your game closet, put Chicken Caesar on the shelf, and take out the latest expansion to Thunderstone, or what have you.  Have a good time.  Chicken Caesar has pluck, but you shouldn’t strut this bird it in front of players with no taste for it.