My Fair Princess

On Sunday, while I was battling fires and meat, I got a call from the Guardians of the Temple — my old mancave, that is, now a storage room full of board games, miniatures, books and a gameroom. An acquaintance had arrived with a television crew and wanted to shoot a documentary there about poor student life during the crisis. What they needed was an abandoned room. And apparently the Temple passes that test with ease — provided the expensive PC monitors are covered up.

The joke, naturally, writes itself. If that documentary ever comes out, we need to find it and share it with spouses everywhere: “Look how many board games this poor student has.” Hashtag facepalm.

As for how My Fair Princess plays, this particular account provides no meaningful information. It does not describe the core mechanism, turn structure, or the choices a player makes, so I will not pretend I can draw conclusions about the game from the contents of the Temple.

The same goes for interaction: there is no mention of whether players cooperate, compete, block each other, or simply pursue their own plans. The only clear interaction here is between an overloaded gaming space, a film crew, and the monitors that had to vanish from the shot.

Until I find my mojo again for a proper game and a proper review, this is the image I am left with. Besides, May Day is approaching — the national day of 18XX, or so I have heard.