Stratego is a classic strategic board game here adapted to the computer. Though thematically centered on Napoleonic era land combat (like Risk), with artwork featuring roaring cannons and dramatic equestrian poses of generals, there's little to indicate this in the rules. There are no cavalry charges or artillery bombardments. Rather, somewhat like checkers, you will move pieces around the board at a deliberate (some would say glacial) pace, trying to take your opponent's pieces.
Stratego differs from other famous board games (such as checkers and chess) in its use of hidden pieces: all your pieces move and look the same, but actually aren't.
Stratego is a classic strategic board game here adapted to the computer. Though thematically centered on Napoleonic era land combat (like Risk), with artwork featuring roaring cannons and dramatic equestrian poses of generals, there's little to indicate this in the rules. There are no cavalry charges or artillery bombardments. Rather, somewhat like checkers, you will move pieces around the board at a deliberate (some would say glacial) pace, trying to take your opponent's pieces.
Stratego differs from other famous board games (such as checkers and chess) in its use of hidden pieces: all your pieces move and look the same, but actually aren't. You can see their ranks, which determines their power, but your opponent can't - and if he tries to
take one of your pieces with a piece of lower rank, you take his piece instead! The object of the game is to find and capture your opponent's flag piece, hidden among the rest.
Obviously, though, hidden pieces are sort of pointless if the starting positions are fixed, like in chess, so each player is allowed to secretly set up his army. This is where the bulk of the game's strategic depth can be found, as players try to develop clever hiding places for their flags, agonize over the proper placement of their most powerful pieces, and anticipate their opponents' movements by laying bombs, trap pieces that can take any piece but are themselves taken in the process.
Actual gameplay is generally a tense and nail-biting affair. Ignorant of the true power of an enemy formation, you must decide whether to send your most powerful pieces at it (and risk losing them to bombs), whether some mid-level pieces should do the job, or whether you should scout it by sending your weak pieces into its teeth. As each player move just one piece one square each turn, the game can seem to be creeping in pace, but the large number of pieces and relatively small board ensure that a clash is quick in coming. This is not Risk, to stretch out for a good solid weekend, but a game you can play in the space of a half-hour or an hour. And the hidden information gives you the frequent satisfaction of having led your opponent into a trap, smiling evilly as you reveal that the piece he just attacked with his marshal was a bomb. In this, the game is perhaps more like poker (minus the chance) than chess, one of outbluffing your opponent as much as outthinking him.
