Open one on the big screen. Everybody else joins from their own phone with the four letters showing on it — no app to install, no account to make, nothing to pass around the room.
Any browser on the big screen — a laptop plugged in, a smart TV, a tablet propped against the fruit bowl. Four letters go up.
Phones join at the same address and pick a name. That is the entire sign-in, and a seat lasts the evening even if the browser closes.
One phone gets the buttons that move the room on. Everyone else only ever sees the one thing it's their turn to do.
Eight of them, all in the same room under the same code. Finish one and the room votes on the next without anybody getting up.
One lobby, one vote — the room picks what to play, over and over.
Everybody joins once. Each phone takes a ballot, the winner goes up on the TV, and the room lands in it. When that game ends you vote again — same people, same code, no rejoining.
Everyone gives a one-word clue — just don't match anyone else.
One player looks away while everybody else writes a clue for the same secret word. Any two clues that match each other get struck out before the guesser ever sees them, so the obvious help is the help that never arrives.
One clue, one spectrum — dial in where your psychic is pointing.
The psychic sees a hidden target somewhere between two extremes and gets one clue to describe it. Everybody else argues the dial into place. Land within five and it's the full four points.
One card too many and your streak goes up in smoke.
Push your luck. Take another card and the pile is worth more; take one you've already got and the whole lot burns. Bank early and watch somebody else go further. First to 200 wins.
Golf with cards — match your columns and shoot for the lowest score.
Eight cards each, most of them face down. Swap what you draw into your grid, match a column to cancel it out, and try to go out before anyone gets a look at the mess you're holding.
Letters hit the screen — write the word nobody else thought of.
A block of letters goes up and everybody writes at once against the clock. Use them as a run, in order, for the big score — which is exactly the word the other seven are reaching for, and duplicates score nothing.
Paint the grid — but a square two of you grab turns to mud.
Three shapes on the table, everyone secretly picks one, and all the paint lands at once. You can paint anywhere, over anyone — and every third round the board is counted and banked, so ground only pays for as long as you hold it.
Hide in the house — then write the clue only your team can read.
Everyone picks one of 164 hiding places in a 16-room house and writes two clues about it. Your clues go up on the TV where the other team reads them too, and points only land if your side finds you and theirs doesn't.
Contract rummy — and every card you throw away goes under the hammer.
Four rounds, a contract to lay down in each. Every discard goes to a sealed-bid auction: the player whose turn it is gets first refusal for nothing, and if they pass, the rest of the table bids for it.
None of this is written eight times. It belongs to the room, so a game only has to bring its rules and its screens.
Four letters on the TV is the whole sign-in. Lose the tab and you take your seat back off the roster.
A move lands on the TV and on eight phones together. A phone that went into a pocket catches itself back up when it comes out.
An optional spoken host reads the room what just happened, over lounge music composed on the spot so it never loops.
Waiting players get an emoji bar to heckle with, and the host can always move the room past whoever put their phone down face-first.
Secret words, spectrums and letter blocks remember what this room has had, what this TV has had, and what everyone else got tonight.
Every game has a written guide with worked examples and screenshots of both screens, for the person who arrived halfway through.
Eldoria is a platform before it is a games collection. The room, the join code, the roster, who's hosting and the real-time push to every screen belong to the platform. A game brings a rules object and a folder of views, and gets the rest for free.
# app/games/game_registry.rb — the catalog. One entry is the # only platform file a new game touches. "quiz" => Entry.new( key: "quiz", name: "Quiz Night", tagline: "Ten questions, and no conferring.", min_players: 2, max_players: 8, engine_class_name: "Quiz::Engine" )
# app/games/quiz/engine.rb — the rules. The platform calls # exactly these six; everything else is yours. module Quiz class Engine include Narratable # the TV's spoken host include TracedEngine # timing on every move def self.phases = %w[asking scoring] def initialize(session) = @session = session def max_players = 8 def start! = ... def advance! = ... def handle_move(player, params) = :ok def idle_player?(player) = ... def reset! = ... end end
Add app/views/games/quiz/board/_asking.html.erb and its phone counterpart, and the game is on the home screen and on the party ballot.
Nothing to download, nobody to sign up, and a code on the screen your friends can read from the sofa.
Start a party