Wyrmspan is a game that sat on my shelf for a long time before being played. This is despite my undying faith in both Stonemaier Games, and Connie Vogelmann, who also designed my beloved Apiary.
Now, don’t let the sprawling dragon encyclopaedia on your table fool you, Wyrmspan looks like an intimidating heavyweight that takes up a lot of real estate on the table, but underneath its majestic exterior lies a remarkably sleek, surprisingly swift, and pretty damn satisfying engine-builder. From the moment you lay out the pastel cave mats and begin cataloguing your first hatchlings, the game sweeps you into a world that feels both grand in scale and delightfully accessible.
The magic of Wyrmspan lies in how effectively it balances deep strategic freedom with an approachable, brisk momentum. Rather than funnelling you down a single optimal path, the design opens up a sandbox of viable strategies. On any given play, you might chase victory by advancing up the Dragon Guild track, stacking high-cost, high-value dragons, or carefully timing your turns to sweep the end-of-round public goals. No single route feels mandatory, giving you total room to adapt to your hand. I’ve certainly won multiple games in completely different ways. My favourite approach is to stockpile eggs. It appeals to the hoarder in me.
Despite the initial impression of a rules-dense monster (exacerbated by the sprawl of multiple game boards, decks of cards, resource tokens, and the like), the core game loop is really quite punchy. Turns move at a genuine clip as most actions just involve playing and resolving a single card. This simplicity helps to keep downtime to a minimum and preventing the game from ever dragging (draggin… dragon…). Tying all of this together gives the game a really special table presence, and the gorgeous dragon portraits, soft pastel artwork, and tactile resource pieces turn every player board into a stunning work of art by the time the game wraps up.
On the table, the game moves like a sprint masquerading as a spreadsheet. In the early turns, you’re laying down initial cave excavations and hatching early dragons, building an engine that starts humming almost before you realize it. The turn-to-turn rhythm feels natural and light, pulling you along as your cavern sanctuaries expand. You soon realise that the game is actually surprisingly lean. There’s no real bloat or anyu parts that don’t directly serve the core experience. And then, before you know it, you’ve somehow built an entire economy around collecting, spending and caching away milk? Seriously, it’s happened more than once…
As you push into the late game, that swift pace shifts into something much richer as we start to see the engines that we have built paying off. When your caves are packed with powerful dragons, triggering an exploration action isn’t just a quick turn anymore; it’s an epic trek. Resolving a deep exploration run means triggering a cascading chain of dragon abilities, resource payouts, and bonus actions across your entire board. While these late-game turns do take a bit longer to calculate and resolve, the slowdown feels earned: it’s the satisfying roar of an engine firing on all cylinders.
It seems to be the obligatory thing to say, that if you’re a fan of Wingspan looking for a slightly meatier, fantasy-infused sibling, Wyrmspan is a great addition to your collection. The thing is, I was always a little cold on Wingspan, but I loved this. It hits an elusive sweet spot in board gaming: offering enough strategic weight to keep veteran gamers plotting, yet playing briskly enough that it never wears out its welcome. Some will come to it for the tactical depth, or the engine-building, or just the joy of filling your sanctuary with cool dragons. Whatever brings you in, I hope you love it as much as I do. This game has earned a permanent spot on the shelf, and it’s already being brought along to club on a regular basis.