Lacrimosa

Completing Mozart’s Requiem on behalf of his widow is a more distinctive premise than the usual European exercise in trading abstract things, and Lacrimosa does not leave it at the artwork. Its actions and progression consistently serve the subject, while the production has the confidence to look excellent on the table without shouting about it.

The core is a personal deck of only nine cards. Each card determines both the action you take and what your engine produces at the end of the round, so improving the deck is not a separate economy but the game’s entire vocabulary. The interesting decision is choosing a move for its immediate value without mortgaging your next round of output.

The more advanced sections of the Requiem want attention first, because they tell you which strategic line is worth pursuing before you start picking at the smaller opportunities. That creates honest friction: a race for the available options, denial when the space you need will not wait for you, and room for distinct approaches without ever losing the sense that each system is in conversation with the others.

This is one of those Euros where coherence is not merely a design virtue but a source of satisfaction. The balance between privately building an engine, racing, and interfering with opponents is exactly where it ought to be, and the range of decisions gives it genuine replayability. It deserves a proper round of applause and a place on the shelf; if shelf space objects, Bitoku has already been nominated as the solution.

Updated session

The second play did not change the verdict; it simply made it firmer. The initial quirk—that you should examine the advanced Requiem sections before the smaller ones—may unsettle some experienced Euro players, but once understood it becomes a clear strategic compass and shows just how neatly Lacrimosa is assembled.