How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Sagrada’s Dice Placement Puzzle


I don’t know what is funny; I have been playing Sagrada for about three years now, and I can still recall the exact moment I understood the game. It wasn’t the first game – I was still figuring out why I couldn’t place a red die adjacent to another red die; nor the second or third game, when I was still placing dice somewhat randomly and hoping for the best; it was the fourth game, played with my normal crew at Amanda’s kitchen table, that the pieces fell into place.

For most of the game, I placed the dice fairly aimlessly as I was still learning; I was simply trying to abide by the basic rules without thinking strategically about anything. Somewhere around round 3, I glanced at my window pattern and realised I’d inadvertently created the perfect arrangement for one of the public objectives. “Columns with no repeated colours” gave 5 points for every such column, and I had this magnificent column of various colours that I didn’t plan at all. That’s when it hit me – this isn’t simply about obeying the rules of where to place your dice; this is about balancing several goals at once under the constraints of the game.

That changed my whole method of playing the game right then and there. And my win percentage rose considerably; my gaming group certainly noticed that. “Well, Nick has finally gotten good at another game,” Amanda quipped after I won three consecutive ones. Sorry not sorry.

One of the things about Sagrada that I struggled with for quite a while is that not all restrictions are created equal. I mean, of course, you can’t place dice that break the colour and number adjacency rules and you’ve got to fit whatever your window pattern needs. However, some of these constraints are far more limiting than others, and determining which ones are more restrictive is vital if you wish to draft efficiently.

Colour restrictions kill you significantly more than number restrictions — and I found that out the hard way during a particularly grueling game where I’d selected a fantastic window pattern called Batllo — lots of specific colour restrictions, but few numerical restrictions. My friend Jake, on the other hand, chose a pattern with many number restrictions, but no colour restrictions. At the end of the game, Jake had a multitude of options, while I was frantically searching for specific colours that weren’t appearing in the draft pool anywhere. He finished his window; I had three blank spaces. The math told me clearly after that.

At present, I always prioritise those spaces that require both a specific colour and a specific number early in the game. These are your greatest headaches — the spaces that can destroy you if you allow them to remain unfilled. Nothing is worse than reaching round 4 and realising you need a red 3 to complete your window — only to see someone else snag the lone red 3 in the draft pool. I’ve experienced that before — and learned my lesson.

Actually, Amanda introduced me to this technique she refers to as “island building.” Rather than expanding your window outward from one corner of the board (as most players seem to do naturally), you build individual clusters of dice in different areas of the board. This allows you to keep your options open for a longer period of time because you’re not narrowing down your possibilities to a small area of the board. Great technique — although I’ll never admit to her that she’s better at spatial reasoning than I am.

As you may expect, the public objectives dramatically alter the relative value of each type of die in a given game. Typically, you’ll have three public objectives that all the players are competing for in a game, and they usually draw you in different ways. As a general rule, attempting to maximise all three public objectives simultaneously is generally a bad idea — it’s better to choose two that complement each other and concentrate on those. Your point totals increase at a much greater rate when you’re actively working toward achieving goals rather than marginally contributing to all of them.

In one particular game, the public objectives were “sets of 5 and 6”, “columns with no repeated colours,” and “colored diagonals”. I did a quick calculation and determined that I was going to disregard the 5-6 sets altogether and focus solely on the columns and diagonals. Ultimately, I earned 28 points from public objectives while the other players were spreading their efforts too thinly. Occasionally, you must make tough decisions regarding which objectives to pursue.

Your private objectives introduce yet another layer of complexity to the process. You receive a private colour objective that awards you points equal to the sum of the total number of dice of that colour in your window. Sounds easy enough, but it frequently conflicts with your public objectives and your window requirements. Finding dice that satisfy multiple goals at once — the private colour that fits your pattern requirements and also satisfies a public objective — is the key. When you find dice like that, they become gold.

Some of the tool cards can completely flip your drafting strategy if you are willing to spend favour tokens. Some tools allow you to modify dice values, some tools allow you to ignore placement restrictions, some tools give you an extra action. The key is identifying when a tool creates sufficient value to justify spending the favour token. I’ve seen players stockpile favour tokens throughout an entire game, and then question why they lost — sometimes you must spend resources to earn points.

Dave, my friend, uses what I would describe as a nearly mathematical approach to determine the potential usefulness of tools. He’s determined which tools go best with which window patterns and objectives. For example, the Grozing Pliers (allows you to adjust a die value by 1) becomes extremely useful when you are working towards specific number-based objectives. The Lathekin (you can place 2 dice at once instead of 1) is fantastic for tempo when you fall behind. Knowing these synergies greatly increases your ability to score.

Positional awareness in relation to the draft order is more significant than most people realise. Because the snake draft format changes your position relative to other players every round, you can use this information to your advantage if you pay attention. The player directly across from you will always have the opposite relationship to your draft position — if they select immediately before you in Round 1, they’ll select immediately after you in Round 2. This enables you to predict which dice might be available to you based upon what they need.

Jake is excellent at recognising the draft order and using it to inform his selections. “I’m not simply thinking about this round,” he explained after absolutely annihilating us one night, “I’m thinking about who selects before me in the next round and what they’re likely to take.” A forward-thinking approach that has definitely enhanced my game once I began adopting it.

Keeping track of the distribution of colours in the game is something I learned after being victimized by scarcity in late rounds too many times. Each colour appears exactly eighteen times in a full game, but they appear randomly. If you recognise that blue dice have appeared more commonly than normal in early rounds, you should assume that they will be scarce later and prepare accordingly. Similarly, keeping track of the number values helps prevent you from committing to requirements that might be difficult to meet.

As the game progresses, defensive drafting becomes increasingly important. During the early rounds, there are typically many dice and numerous placement options, so you can primarily focus on advancing your own goals. Later rounds, when everyone has mostly filled their windows and there are limited placement options, you occasionally need to take a die simply to deprive an opponent of it. Not always enjoyable, but it is frequently the correct decision.

I had an unbelievably intense final round with Amanda where both of us recognised that the outcome of the game would depend on a couple specific dice. Rather than optimizing our windows, we spent the entire final round hate-drafting dice that the other person required. Both of us ultimately ended with empty spaces — both of us were frustrated — but mathematically, it was the proper decision. “That was petty,” she said while we tallied the scores. Perhaps so — however, it was strategic.

Determining when to transition from an offensive to a defensive drafting strategy is challenging. Too early, and you miss opportunities to improve your own score. Too late, and you allow opponents to complete objectives that you could have precluded. Generally, I begin considering defensive picks around Round 3, when windows are roughly half-full and placement options are beginning to be constricted.

Coverage strategy for the window involves identifying which empty spaces are detrimental to you the least if you cannot fill them. Not all empty spaces are equally problematic — some empty spaces create adjacency issues for the remainder of your window, while others negatively impact multiple objectives. I attempt to identify the “most detrimental empty spaces” at the onset of each game and prioritise filling those — even if that necessitates suboptimal choices in other areas of the window.

Considerations of tempo enter into play when using tools that allow you to perform additional actions. A standard game consists of precisely ten dice placements (two per round for five rounds). Therefore, tools that enable you to place additional dice effectively grant you more turns than your opponents. The Lathekin and Running Pliers both provide this benefit — and I have learned to value the additional tempo even if the immediate placement is not optimal.

Following over a dozen and dozens of games of this game, I believe the primary takeaway is that Sagrada isn’t truly about optimalization — it’s about adaptable planning. The best approach to the game strikes a balance between your window requirements and public objectives, incorporates your private objective, utilizes available tools, and reacts to the activity of other players. Attempting to optimize any single aspect of the game typically yields suboptimal results.

There is something uniquely pleasing about completing a window that works on multiple levels. It’s not merely about filling all the spaces — it’s about creating a pattern that scores well across multiple objectives while appearing aesthetically pleasing. The game generates moments when everything comes together — your final placement completes your window, optimizes a public objective, and creates a stunning pattern of colored glass.

This aesthetic element is probably why Sagrada has remained in my regular rotation for such an extended duration. Yes, there are many strategic elements to the game and many interesting decisions to be made — but ultimately, you are generating something visually appealing. The completed windows actually resemble stained-glass artwork — and there is an appeal to that beyond the points you score.

Apparently, my gaming group has been teasing me about my “concentration face” while I’m deliberating the placement of dice. Apparently, I develop a very serious expression while I’m calculating the relative value of each option. They refer to it as my “Sagrada Squint,” which is probably apt. However, that precise deliberation has contributed to a reasonably high win-loss ratio — so I’m not abandoning my strategy anytime soon.

We currently face the problem of our gaming group becoming increasingly interested in campaign games, thereby reducing the amount of time we have for quicker games like Sagrada. It’s the perpetual conflict between possessing too many good games to play and insufficient time to play them. We’ve attempted to fit in quick games between campaign sessions, and Sagrada fits perfectly into that slot — complex enough to be entertaining, short enough to play between longer obligations.

Even though I have been playing Sagrada for years, I continue to discover new strategies and methods to utilize. Lately, I have been testing more aggressive tool utilization — expending favour tokens earlier in the game, rather than conserving them until the end. The results have been mixed — but that is part of what makes the game so intriguing. There is always another method to employ, another window pattern to master, another set of objectives to navigate.

And isn’t that what defines a great game? Sagrada provides the ideal equilibrium of constraint and creativity — enabling you to work within severe constraints while allowing for multiple approaches and expressions. Every completed window tells a tale about the decisions you made, the compromises you made, the opportunities you capitalized upon — or failed to capitalize upon.

If you will excuse me, I need to persuade Amanda that we have time for a brief game prior to our Gloomhaven session tonight. I have a hypothesis regarding the Cork-backed Straightedge that I’m eager to investigate — and she has asked for a rematch since that hate-drafting incident. After all, there is always another lovely window awaiting construction.


Like it? Share with your friends!

0