Emberleaf

Paul Devlin
13 minutes ago
7 min read

Every so often, a game shows up and immediately gives off the unmistakable vibe: “You’re going to love this.” Spoiler alert: I love it.

Emberleaf
Designer: James Tomblin & Frank West
Publisher: The City of Games
2025

Overview:

(Images in this review may contain upgraded wooden resources and tiles rather than the cardboard components found in the retail version of the game).

A familiar (and charming) blend of mid‑weight* Euro goodness is on offer here in Emberleaf, designed by James Tomblin and Frank West and published by The City of Games (Isle of Cats). Think tile placement, engine building, resource management and… erm… “Card Dancing.”**

Thematically, you’re taking on the role of an Emberling - emerging from hiding to repopulate a forest that has previously been scorched to the ground by the dastardly Lord Vesh. Booo! Mechanically, it’s largely tried‑and‑tested (and splendidly so) Euro fare: spending movement points to wander the forest, gathering your ubiquitous wood and stone, building different types of buildings, gaining points, and unlocking bonuses along the way. Every time an area of the forest fills with buildings, the game’s built‑in timer ticks closer to the end—ditto when you clear “dangerous areas” which block paths around the board. So far, so familiar.

But it’s the Card Dancing that is the main character of Emberleaf. Your individual player board isn’t just holding items here—it’s controlling everything that happens on the main board, and it’s a delicious meta‑puzzle all of its own… and a brain‑burning one at that. You’ll start the game with an asymmetric deck of cards—a cast of charming critters, each with an action to be… well… actioned! On your turn, you can either play a card anywhere on your player board or slide all previously played cards one space to the left—eventually causing cards to fall off the board and back into your hand. The tense, delightful agony comes from deciding which cards to play - or more to the point where and when. Some have immediate bonuses, some ongoing, some trigger when you slide, some when they fall off the board and return to your hand… AAAARRRGGGH. Card programming at its devilish best.

Another crucial thing to track during the game is the constantly refreshing Favour cards—a massive (and I do mean MASSIVE) stack of strategic goals that offer end‑game points. Think: “Build exactly 5 Town Halls” or “Clear exactly 9 dangerous paths.” These aren’t universal goals known from the outset—they appear regularly throughout the game, waiting for you to pounce on them either because they perfectly match what you’re already doing, or because you think you can pivot toward them for tasty endgame points.

You’ll score points during the game for building on the main board, clearing dangerous areas, and grabbing bonuses here and there—and then a bigger wad of points at the end for all of those Favour cards you’ve snaffled up. Player with the most points wins.

* I say mid‑weight (and the rulebook is excellent), but tactical and strategic opportunities pop up all over the place. Combined with the card‑programming element, I’d argue this one nudges into medium‑plus territory. It’s not heavy per se - but you’ll have plenty to chew over each turn.

** Colour me intrigued before I even shuffle a deck!

Solo Headlines:

Oh yes! Consider me one very happy and satisfied solo player here in Emberleaf. Not only does it do exactly what I want—it also tickles me on the chin and says, “Would you also like me to do some of that strategic goal‑juggling stuff you love?” Yes, Emberleaf. Yes, I would.

At her most basic, your solo opponent—Sister—mostly keeps out of your way. No onerous bot to manage, no cumbersome decision trees, no feeling like you’re playing two‑handed with solo turns that take as long as your own. Here, it’s a simple 'flip a card and take the displayed rudimentary action': remove items from shared displays, offer some light competition for spaces, that sort of thing. I’m talking ‘at a glance’ turns that take seconds. She scores points in a slightly ‘cheaty,’ simplistic way—but I’m a fan of solo modes like this. Others may find it off putting and want their solo opponent to perfectly replicate the multiplayer experience and might struggle with the simplicity here. Me? I love it.

But that’s not the only reason I’m full of praise for the solo mode.

As well as the super‑simple ‘flip a card, take a quick action’ system, the Sister also tells you at the start of the game: “I’m going to score points at the end for things you might do during the game.” This changes each game. It might be something like: “I’ll score 5 points for every Market you build” or ”2 points for every owl you house in a buildling”. You’d better believe I’m going to try my best not to build Markets this game and stick owls in them!! But WAIT— I think I do actually need to build a Market this turn… AAAARRRGHH.

This may turn off players who dislike feeling restricted in what they can or can’t do, and who might argue that it pushes the solo experience away from multiplayer experience which doesnt feature these restrictions. But I only play solo (save for a very occasional 2p game), and I can tell you it creates a delightful, variable strategic constraint each game—not about what to accomplish, but what not to accomplish. The tension of really needing to do something but knowing it will benefit Sister is excellent. There is nothing better for me than playing a game with something in my peripheral vision making me pause for thought. Her variable “I’ll score points if you do these specific things” conditions make every game feel fresh. Each time I’m walking a new tightrope of cost vs. benefit, trying to ‘game’ and ‘starve’ my solo opponent.

Yes, yes—I’ve moaned before about solo modes that score based on what you haven’t done (looking at you, Maracaibo ). But this subtle twist—Sister scoring for what you have done—is just… well, it's just wonderful.

There’s a fair bit of setup, but nothing more than most Euros of this weight. Solo games play in about 60–75 minutes, depending on how prone you are to mulling over every delicious turn. A good range of difficulty levels means there’s a challenge for most abilities.

One of the best solo games I’ve played in quite a while.

General Headlines:

The striking cover for Emberleaf tells you exactly what to expect—a cast of anthropomorphic critters with charming art set in a whimsical world. The world‑building isn’t quite as strong as Everdell, but the artwork is rich and full of detail.

...and those charming, characterful cards don’t just look good—they’re the main, brain‑burning mechanism to focus on. Emberleaf might have a lot of cards but it isn’t a tableau builder. Instead, these cards control everything you do on the main board (if you have played the wonderful Zhanguo then you’ll know exaclty what I mean). The programming puzzle on your player board—deciding whether to play a card, where to play it, or whether to slide all cards—is fascinating. Sure, you can play a card now to get two wood… but living in the short term won’t get you far here. You’ll need to look two, three, or more turns ahead to ensure your card synergies pay off. Prepare for plenty of analysis paralysis and “oh wait—let me take that back, I’ve just thought of a better way to do this” moments. No issue for a solo player taking their time, but I suspect this would cause notable downtime at 3 or 4 players. Be warned.

That tension is balanced by some familiar, jaunty escapades out on the main board: roaming around, racing to build, clearing paths, snapping up those aforementioned Favour cards. I love ‘movement points’ systems that create those “aaaarrrgggh—I need one more step but can’t quite make it… okay, rethink the plan!” moments. And I’m a fan of games where lands fill with new building hexes—think a less complex Boonlake and you’re in the right ballpark here in Emberleaf.

I also really appreciate how different each game feels – I like games that offer something fresh and different with each play. Some games, I’m drowning in resources; others, everything is tight, tight, tight. The core loop remains the same: program cards, roam, build, clear paths—but every game I’m chasing different goals and trying different approaches. The asymmetric starter decks help with that and while I’m not usually a fan of asymmetry in multiplayer game (preferring players all to being singing from the same hymn sheet), here in Emberleaf as a solo player I enjoy cycling through different styles and improving as a player.

But the chef’s kiss moment is the Favour Cards. I love strategic goals in games. Love them. Knowing exactly what I’m aiming for and going hell‑for‑leather toward it = bliss. Emberleaf doesn’t give you one or two strategic goals. It gives you EIGHTY‑EIGHT. A huge stack of cards, each offering a different objective—whispering: “Come and get me if you can.” These goals cycle regularly throughout the game (save for some occasionally frustrating stagnation), encouraging you to pivot, synergise, or abandon a plan entirely. They vary wildly, and with 7–8 collected each game, every playthrough feels fresh. Sure, there’s a bit of luck—the right Favour card appears at just the right (or wrong!) time—but that only adds to the tension.

Tactical players will love the moment‑to‑moment opportunities that emerge. Strategic players may well giddily find themselves in board‑gaming heaven.

Additional content:

The City of Games were kind enough to send me a complimentary copy of Emberleaf for this review. That said, after only the second game I went all‑in: all the upgraded wooden components, all additional starting decks, a Folded Space insert… and the Trophies and Bonuses expansion.

Does this mean the base game was lacking? Absolutely not. It simply became clear I had found a ‘forever game’—one of those rare titles that earns a permanent place in the collection and demands to be fully blinged out. This game dug its claws into my heart from the very first turn.

None of the extras are essential—the base game is rock solid. But Trophies and Bonuses is the one I’d recommend. It adds no gameplay changes—just more cards, more tiles, and more variability in how you approach each game. Small, subtle changes that make for big strategic shifts. I love games that encourage different approaches each time, and this expansion does that very well. If you can grab it, do!