Mythic Bastionland, the latest game in Chris McDowell’s Bastionland series, was one of the best-smelling books we had ever encountered when it arrived last year. But some people suggested it mattered how it played, and that was something we could not discern from residual ink-scents alone. To find out, we rolled up our chainmail sleeves, watched John Boorman’s 1981 knight-based masterpiece, Excalibur, and then dove headlong into the lake where there was probably a sword or, if not, some sort of wretched wyrm of myth with which we might wrestle in the dark and wet.
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Lost in the hills of Somerset, this Rossignol searches for meaning among the clattering of small plastic bones.