Welcome to my blog, where I will share random thoughts about my inspiration for designing new tabletop games and anything else related to the venture!
May 1, 2025
When developing The Cabinet, one important design choice my artist and I agreed on early was to use anthropomorphized characters rather than human likenesses. With a game centered on political power struggles and hidden agendas, it was important to avoid any unintentional resemblance to real-world leaders or political figures. By giving each character animal traits and distinct visual personalities, we not only sidestep the risk of real-world comparisons, but also create a more imaginative and universally accessible experience.
This artistic direction does more than just protect us from awkward associations—it enhances immersion. Board games often serve as an escape from the stress and noise of everyday life, and distancing players from reality through stylized, non-human characters helps reinforce that sense of separation. It invites players to engage with the game's strategy and narrative without bringing outside biases to the table. The mockup you see here is one of our early explorations, and I’m excited to see how these characters evolve as The Cabinet continues to take shape.
April 17, 2025
As I worked on The Cabinet, one concern that kept creeping into my mind was whether the game felt a little too close to the world we live in today. With themes of political tension, power struggles, and societal decline, I wondered if players would be looking for something lighter—something that offered more of an escape. After all, one of the greatest joys of board gaming is the ability to step away from reality for a bit. I didn’t want to risk the experience feeling heavy or draining.
But the more I sat with that worry, the more I looked to history—and I found reassurance. Some of the most iconic games of all time were born in difficult eras. Monopoly rose to prominence during the Great Depression. Battleship gained popularity in wartime America. Even Pandemic released an expansion in the midst of a global crisis. These games succeeded not in spite of their themes, but because they offered players a structured, engaging way to interact with challenging ideas in a controlled setting. With The Cabinet, I hope to do the same: provide an experience that is rich, strategic, and thought-provoking—but still fun, approachable, and just removed enough to allow for playful immersion.
March 25, 2025
Naming a board game can be one of the most unexpectedly challenging parts of the creative process. I began this journey with the title Topple the Tyrant, which had a dramatic flair but didn’t quite stick. I then explored Mobocracy, a term pulled from the writings of the ancient historian Polybius, describing a state where democracy has collapsed into rule by the mob. While rich in meaning, it didn’t fully resonate with the broader board game community in the way I hoped. So, I turned to the incredibly insightful members of the Break My Game group for help—and wow, did they deliver.
I posted a poll with six title options, and to my surprise, The Cabinet ran away with the vote, securing a commanding 65% of the total. The name struck a chord, and I can see why: it carries a certain elegance and intrigue, hinting at power, secrecy, and political maneuvering. I’m genuinely grateful for the feedback from fellow gamers—it’s not only encouraging but also crucial to shaping a game that players will connect with. Knowing what catches the eye (and imagination) on a store shelf is a huge help, and I’m excited to keep building The Cabinet with a community that clearly cares as much as I do.
February 15, 2025
I generally consider myself a “good guy.” I try to be kind, honest, and considerate. Games, whether tabletop, digital, or sports, all provide outlets for people to unleash their competitive edge, to best their opponent, in a way that is not detrimental to society in real life. That’s why I find it more fun to be the antagonist in a tabletop game—I am allowed to be deceitful and chaotic, traits that I avoid every day.
I have observed, though, that some players feel relief when they are dealt the protagonist role in a game. They find it less stressful because they can be honest and play for the greater good. For me, though, playing the villain is a fun outlet. That "bad guy" feeling was an inspiration for my first game, The Cabinet. The ultimate antagonist is the central character and controls most movements throughout the game, creating a dynamic, ever-evolving challenge for the players. Embracing the chaos in a game setting can be an exhilarating way to explore different strategies and perspectives without real-world consequences.
This contrast in playstyles—the comfort of playing the hero versus the thrill of playing the villain—highlights the versatility and emotional depth that tabletop games offer. They allow us to step outside of ourselves and experience scenarios we’d never encounter in daily life. Whether a player enjoys upholding justice or reveling in mischief, games provide a unique space to experiment, challenge ourselves, and most importantly, have fun.
February 12, 2025
During a recent trip to a tabletop convention, I encountered a vast and diverse array of people. It became clear to me that there is no singular, stereotypical tabletop "gamer." Players of all backgrounds and walks of life gathered around tables, eager to dive into new experiences. That day, I had the chance to play games with many new people, and as often happens, once the initial learning curve passed and the mechanics became second nature, natural, non-game-related conversations began to emerge.
What stood out to me was a shared enthusiasm among the players—a collective excitement to step into a new role, to think strategically, and to embody the character they were dealt. It wasn’t just about playing a game; it was about embracing a temporary persona in a safe, judgment-free environment. This aspect of the hobby, the willingness to engage fully in a role, struck me as a defining trait among tabletop enthusiasts.
But what intrigued me even more was what came after the game—the post-game discussions. Nearly everyone I played with seemed to relish the chance to reflect on the events that had unfolded. We dissected key moments, debated strategies, and shared laughs over the unexpected twists and turns. I know I certainly enjoyed this aspect just as much as the game itself.
The life cycle of a board game experience, I realized, has a natural flow: a "prologue," where the stage is set and the players are introduced to the world and mechanics; the gameplay itself, where choices are made, alliances are forged, and narratives take shape; and finally, the "epilogue," where the story is revisited, analyzed, and celebrated. That post-game reflection, that final chapter, has always been one of my favorite parts of the experience.
It is in that spirit that I chose the name for my tabletop publishing company: Epilogue Games. Because every great game deserves a memorable ending.