ΠΕΣΣΟΙ The reconstruction a Wroot Labs game

Reconstructing the Greek game, from the sources up

A primary-source reconstruction of the ancient game later called petteia or polis — built up from the ancient evidence rather than down from the modern rulesets (Bell, Schädler, Murray). Every rule is graded by how well the sources support it, and the genuinely open choices were settled by a tested engine, not by assertion.

The game you play is Pessoi (PESS-oy) — after the counters (πεσσοί) the suitors are playing in the game's oldest witness, Homer's Odyssey 1.107. The historical terms petteia, polis, and latrunculi are kept throughout the analysis below, where they belong to the scholarship; Pessoi is simply the name of the game as it is published and played.

▶ Play Pessoi · Home · Working draft v0.3

No complete rulebook survives. Every reconstruction is a chain of inferences, and the honest work is marking where each link is iron and where it is wire. So every rule below carries a tag for how the sources stand behind it:

A  Attested. Stated or unambiguously implied by an ancient source. Not ours to overrule.
I  Inferred. Not stated, but strongly constrained by the sources and the wider custodial-capture family. A scholar may dissent, but bears the burden.
D  Design choice. Genuinely underdetermined. We pick to make a playable game, and say so — these are the rules the engine tests rather than asserts (§6).

§0Method, and why one game

Two standing commitments govern everything that follows. Primary sources outrank secondary reconstructions: where Bell or Schädler assert what the texts do not license, we drop it (§5). And we import nothing from a cousin game — Seega, tafl, Kharebga — except as a tiebreaker where the sources are silent.

Why we reconstruct one game, not two

An earlier draft built Latrunculi and Petteia as parallel reconstructions. Carried out honestly, they converged: once the unwarranted accretions are stripped, two equal-army custodial-capture games on a grid have nothing left to keep them apart. The historical record cannot sustain a stable difference, and the reception history proves the danger — every attempt to differentiate the Roman game (Bell's "Dux," the leaping king of the popular rule-sheets, a checkmate-style win) pulls it toward chess, while every attempt to keep the two distinct without such accretions collapses them back together. Two failure modes, one cause: there is only one game here.

So we anchor in Petteia / Polis and treat Latrunculi as its Roman reception (§4). The reasons are structural, not sentimental. The Greek game is the drift-resistant one: its conceptual core is more completely attested (board, pieces, capture, and victory are all Greek-fixed), and its defining feature — victory by immobilisation — is the one idea that cannot slide into chess, because blockade is the opposite of checkmate. The Roman game can be built clean, but only by continuously overriding its own reception; the Greek game is clean by nature.

On "reception." We do not claim a documented line of transmission — the evidence for direct Greek-to-Roman descent is sparse. We claim only the parsimonious reading: once anachronisms are bracketed out, the Roman material is most economically understood as the same game received into Latin culture and re-dressed, rather than as an independent invention that happens to share every structural feature. Latrunculi is conventionally "believed to be a variant of the earlier Greek game"; Schädler grants that polis and latrunculi are "largely the same." Reception is held here as the most economical hypothesis, flagged as such, not as fact.


§1The evidence dossier

1A · The Greek game — the canonical witnesses

SourceDateWhat it actually fixes
Homer, Odyssey 1.1078th c. BCEThe suitors play pessoi. Existence only — no mechanics.
Plato, Republic 487b–c4th c. BCEThe weak player is "shut in and unable to move" by the skilled. Fixes immobilisation / blockade as a decisive condition, not merely material capture.
Plato, Phaedrus 274c–d4th c. BCEPetteia among Theuth's Egyptian inventions → a claimed pedigree; groups petteia with dice-games as separate things.
Aristotle, Politics 1253a4th c. BCEThe stateless man is azux — an "unpaired piece" in petteia. Confirms isolation = vulnerability, support = strength.
Polybius, Histories 1.84.7–8 (on Hamilcar Barca)2nd c. BCEHamilcar destroyed the enemy "without a battle," hemming them in and cutting them off, "like a good petteia-player." Blockade, not annihilation, as the model of victory. (Widely misattributed to Scipio — see below.)
Pollux, Onomasticon IX.97–982nd c. CEThe keystone. The board "played with many pieces," set in lines/cells, is called polis (city); each piece is a kyon (dog); pieces are two colours; the art is to take a piece "by enclosing it between two" of the other colour. (Also names "five-lines" as a separate game.)
Caution on conflation The "five lines" (pente grammai) game is a different, partly race-based game; popular accounts fold it into petteia. Our petteia is specifically Pollux's polis — a distinction the sources themselves keep: Pollux describes five-lines apart from polis (IX.97), and Hesychius' Lexicon states outright that petteia differs from kybeia (dice-play). Two later witnesses, Eustathius and Zenobius, independently confirm the polis / "dogs" naming (§1C). Setup and piece-count are nowhere stated; the repeated "~30 pieces" is Murray's conjecture, not a source.

1B · The Roman reception — corroborating and illustrative witnesses

The Latin sources are read here not as a rival game's evidence but as the receiving tradition's testimony to the same game — and, crucially, as the place where two questions the Greek record leaves open are answered in practice.

SourceDateWhat it adds to the same game
Varro, De Lingua Latina X.221st c. BCEThe board is a grid of cells (compared to a declension table). Corroborates Pollux's board.
Ovid, Ars Am. III.357–360; Tristia II.477c. 1 BCE–8 CECustodial capture — a piece caught "between twin foes" perishes. Independent Latin confirmation of Pollux's enclosure rule.
Martial, Epigrams XIV.17c. 85 CEPieces are latrones (soldier-pieces); two colours in opposition; capture by being caught.
Laus Pisonis 190–2081st c. CEThe richest gameplay source either tradition has. Glass soldiers; pieces distributed cleverly on the open board → the placement opening; pieces retreat yet capture the pursuer; a reserve re-enters; one "seemingly checked itself checks two"; play that breaks the line → the slide / burst-through movement.
Seneca (metaphor, alligatus)c. 65 CERead by Schädler as implying delayed removal / freeing of a trapped piece. Interpretive, not explicit — treated here as a possible Roman accretion, not canonical (§4, §5).
Isidore, Etymologiae XVIII7th c. CELate lexicography: the terms vagus (wanderer), ordinarius (regular), incitus (immobilised). The idiom ad incitas redigere ("reduced to immobility" = beaten) independently echoes the blockade victory from the Latin side.

Archaeology. Boards survive at 7×7, 7×8, 8×8, 9×9, 9×10; bone / glass / pottery counters, uniform and distinguished only by colour (the Perugia hoard, the British Museum sets); the Vindolanda and Corbridge boards. The Stanway grave (Colchester, c. 50 CE) — rectangular (~2:3), possibly un-latticed — is the sole basis for the "Dux" theory and is plausibly a different (native British) game; we set it aside (§5).

Computational check (Crist, Piette, Soemers, Stephenson & Browne, 2024, via Ludii). Independent support for two of our calls: slide movement is playable and source-consistent; the large rectangular boards (8×12 Colchester-type) stall out under every custodial ruleset — evidence they were a different game, and that the real game lived on the squarer 7×8–9×9 boards.

1C · The witnesses in their own words

The tables above say what each source fixes; here is the source itself. A reconstruction that grades its rules by attestation owes the reader the attested words, not just a citation to chase.

A note on the texts The Greek and Latin below are public-domain; the English is fresh — translated for this reconstruction by Wroot Press — and deliberately literal rather than literary, so the technical vocabulary (pessoi, kyon, calculus, latro) shows through. Where a passage is set from a specific edition, the edition is named at its head.

The Greek game

Homer, Odyssey 1.106–107the oldest witness

πεσσοῖσι προπάροιθε θυράων θυμὸν ἔτερπον, / ἥμενοι ἐν ῥινοῖσι βοῶν, οὓς ἔκτανον αὐτοί.

…before the doors they [the suitors] were delighting their hearts with pessoi, seated on the hides of oxen they had themselves slaughtered.

The game exists by the eighth century and needs no gloss — Homer can name pessoi and expect to be understood. No mechanics; existence only.
Plato, Republic 487b–cimmobilisation as the image of defeat · Greek verified against the Loeb (Shorey, vol. II)

…καὶ ὥσπερ ὑπὸ τῶν πεττεύειν δεινῶν οἱ μὴ δεινοὶ τελευτῶντες ἀποκλείονται καὶ οὐκ ἔχουσιν ὅ τι φέρωσιν, οὕτω καὶ σφεῖς τελευτῶντες ἀποκλείεσθαι καὶ οὐκ ἔχειν ὅ τι λέγωσιν ὑπὸ πεττείας αὖ ταύτης τινὸς ἑτέρας, οὐκ ἐν ψήφοις ἀλλ' ἐν λόγοις.

…and just as the unskilled, at the hands of those clever at petteia, are in the end shut in and have no move left to play, so these too are at last blocked and left with nothing to say — by this other petteia, played not with counters (psēphoi) but with words.

Socrates' simile for an interlocutor argued into silence. What it fixes for us is the shape of losing: not the loss of material but being hemmed in until no legal move remains — the blockade win of §3, attested at the root. (Note the cross-link to Pollux: the pieces are psēphoi here too.) Together with Polybius' Hamilcar simile below, this is the load-bearing attestation that immobilisation is the image of defeat.
Plato, Phaedrus 274c–dpetteia among the arts, and distinct from dice

…εὑρεῖν δὲ ἀριθμόν τε καὶ λογισμὸν καὶ γεωμετρίαν καὶ ἀστρονομίαν, ἔτι δὲ πεττείας τε καὶ κυβείας, καὶ δὴ καὶ γράμματα.

…and [the god Theuth] invented number and calculation and geometry and astronomy, and further petteia and dice (kybeia), and, above all, letters.

Two things: petteia is filed with the reckoning-arts (a game of calculation, not chance), and it is named separately from dice — warrant for keeping our game clear of the race-and-dice "five-lines" with which popular accounts conflate it (§1A caution).
Aristotle, Politics 1253aisolation is vulnerability

…ἅμα γὰρ φύσει τοιοῦτος καὶ πολέμου ἐπιθυμητής, ἅτε περ ἄζυξ ὢν ὥσπερ ἐν πεττοῖς.

…for such a man [the cityless one] is by nature also a lover of war, inasmuch as he is unpaired, like an isolated piece in petteia.

The decisive word is ἄζυξ — "unyoked, unpaired." A piece without a partner is exposed; mutual support is strength. This is the custodial logic stated as political metaphor: a lone stone is a captured stone waiting to happen.
Polybius, Histories 1.84.7–8 (on Hamilcar Barca)victory modelled on the game

…like a good petteia-player, hemming them in and cutting them off, he destroyed great numbers of the enemy without a battle.

In the Mercenary (Truceless) War, Hamilcar traps the Libyan and mercenary force in waterless country and reduces it by manoeuvre. The simile runs the other way from Plato's: not the game illustrating life but a general's blockade strategy illustrated by expert petteia — encirclement and containment, amachei ("without a battle"), not annihilation, as what a strong player does. It is the cleanest ancient statement that the game is won by hemming in.
Attribution — a correction worth flagging This simile is very widely quoted online as Polybius on Scipio Aemilianus. That is wrong: the passage is Polybius 1.84, and its subject is Hamilcar Barca in the Mercenary War of 241–238 BCE. The slip is easy to see — Scipio's later blockade of Numantia is the more famous "win-by-siege," so the simile drifted onto him — but Polybius applies it to Hamilcar. A small case study in this project's own rule: verify the locus, don't trust the repetition.
Pollux, Onomasticon IX.98the keystone · Greek set from Dindorf's edition, Leipzig 1824

Ἡ δὲ διὰ πολλῶν ψήφων παιδιὰ πλινθίον ἐστὶ, χώρας ἐν γραμμαῖς ἔχον διακειμένας· καὶ τὸ μὲν πλινθίον καλεῖται πόλις· τῶν δὲ ψήφων ἑκάστη, κύων· διῃρημένων δὲ εἰς δύο τῶν ψήφων κατὰ τὰς χρόας, ἡ τέχνη τῆς παιδιᾶς ἔστι περιλήψει τῶν δύο ψήφων ὁμοχρόων τὴν ἑτερόχρουν ἀναιρεῖν.

The game played with many counters (psēphoi) is a plinthion — a tiled block having its spaces set out among lines. The block is called the polis (city), and each of the counters a "dog" (kyon). The counters being divided into two by colour, the art of the game is, by the encirclement of two same-coloured counters, to remove the one of the other colour.

Four rules in one sentence: a lined grid called the polis; pieces called dogs; two colours; and capture by encircling a piece between two of one's own. Everything structural in §3 that is graded A rests here — and the verb is exact: perilēpsei… anairein, "to remove by encirclement," the custodial rule named outright. The same passage twice supports our cautions: it calls the pessoi plain psēphoi (counters, no hierarchy), and immediately before it Pollux sets out a different game, "five-lines," with its "sacred line" and the proverb kinei ton aph' hieras ("move the piece from the sacred line") — the textual basis for refusing to conflate the two. Pollux then quotes Cratinus punning on kyna kai polin ("dog and city"), proof the terminology was proverbial.

The Roman reception

Ovid, Ars Amatoria III.357–358custodial capture, Latin side

Cautaque non stulte latronum proelia ludat, / unus cum gemino calculus hoste perit.

And let her play, shrewdly and not foolishly, the battles of the brigand-pieces (latrones) — where a single piece (calculus) is lost when caught between a pair of foes.

Independent Latin confirmation of Pollux's enclosure rule: one piece dies between two enemies (gemino… hoste). The pieces are latrones, the soldier-name that gives latrunculi.
Ovid, Tristia II.477–478capture, and a moving line

Discolor ut recto grassetur limite miles, / cum medius gemino calculus hoste perit.

…how the piece of opposing colour advances along a straight line, when the piece caught in the middle perishes between two foes.

The same capture couplet Ovid liked enough to reuse — but here prefaced by recto… limite, movement "along a straight line." A modest Latin foothold for ranged, orthogonal motion (the slide of §3) alongside the enclosure rule.
Martial, Epigrams XIV.17 (Calculi)two colours in opposition

Insidiosorum si ludis bella latronum, / gemmeus iste tibi miles et hostis erit.

If you play the treacherous wars of the brigand-pieces, this glass man will be for you both soldier and foe.

A gift-tag couplet for a set of gaming-stones: two-coloured pieces (miles et hostis, your man and your enemy, told apart only by colour), made of glass — corroborating the uniform two-colour counters of the archaeology.
Laus Pisonis 184–202the richest gameplay source either tradition has · Latin set from Duff & Duff, Minor Latin Poets (Loeb); conventionally cited 190–208

te si forte iuvat studiorum pondere fessum / non languere tamen lususque movere per artem, / callidiore modo tabula variatur aperta / calculus et vitreo peraguntur milite bella, / ut niveus nigros, nunc et niger alliget albos. / sed tibi quis non terga dedit? quis te duce cessit / calculus? aut quis non periturus perdidit hostem? / mille modis acies tua dimicat: ille petentem, / dum fugit, ipse rapit; longo venit ille recessu, / qui stetit in speculis; hic se committere rixae / audet et in praedam venientem decipit hostem; / ancipites subit ille moras similisque ligato / obligat ipse duos; hic ad maiora movetur, / ut citus ecfracta prorumpat in agmina mandra / clausaque deiecto populetur moenia vallo. / interea sectis quamvis acerrima surgant / proelia militibus, plena tamen ipse phalange / aut etiam pauco spoliata milite vincis, / et tibi captiva resonat manus utraque turba.

If perhaps, wearied by the weight of your studies, it pleases you all the same not to slacken but to set a game going by skill — in the more cunning way the open board is laid out with the piece (calculus), and the war is fought through with a soldiery of glass, so that now the white binds in (alliget) the black, now the black the white. Yet who has not turned his back to you? what piece, with you as commander, has given way? who, doomed himself, has not [first] destroyed his enemy? Your line fights in a thousand ways: one, while it flees the attacker, itself seizes him; another comes from a long retreat, having stood watch on the heights; this one dares to throw himself into the brawl and cheats the enemy as he advances onto the prey; that one undergoes wavering delays and, like a piece blockaded (ligato), himself blockades (obligat) two; another moves to greater things, so that, the barrier (mandra) broken open, he may burst swiftly into the ranks and, the rampart cast down, lay waste the enclosed walls. Meanwhile, however fierce the battles that rise as the ranks are cut to pieces, you win still with your phalanx full — or stripped of only a few soldiers — and in both your hands the throng of captives rattles.

This single passage fills the two Greek gaps (§4) and corroborates a third theme:

  • Open-board placement. tabula… aperta, the board "laid out open," with pieces "varied" cleverly across it — the warrant for our placement opening (§3) over a fixed opposed-rows array.
  • Line-breaking slide. ut citus ecfracta… prorumpat in agmina mandra — "the barrier broken, he bursts swiftly into the ranks." The clearest ancient image of ranged, breakthrough movement (§3) — our basis, with Ovid's recto limite, for slide over single-step.
  • The blockade theme, in Latin and explicit. The verbs are alliget, ligato, obligat — "binds in," "blockaded," "blockades." The whole register is immobilisation: pieces tying down other pieces (obligat ipse duos, "himself blockades two"). This is the Roman side of Plato's "shut in" — and it sits beside plena phalange… vincis, winning with one's force intact (blockade, not annihilation). It is also the textual root of the contested alligatus / "freeing" reading (§4): the binding vocabulary is real; what Seneca's metaphor adds to it is the interpretive step we decline to canonise.
Isidore, Etymologiae XVIII.67the immobilisation idiom, lexicalised · Latin set from Lindsay's OCT, tomus II, 1911

Calculi partim ordine moventur, partim vage: ideo alios ordinarios, alios vagos appellant; at vero qui moveri omnino non possunt, incitos dicunt. Vnde et egentes homines inciti vocantur, quibus spes ultra procedendi nulla restat.

The counters (calculi) move partly in order, partly at random; so they call some "regular" (ordinarii), others "wandering" (vagi); but those that cannot be moved at all they call "stuck" (inciti). Whence even destitute men are called inciti — men for whom no hope of advancing further remains.

Late lexicography, but it pins three things the reconstruction uses. It records the Roman piece-vocabulary (ordinarius, vagus) the §4 variants draw on; and — the load-bearing point — it defines incitus as a piece that cannot move at all (qui moveri omnino non possunt), then carries the word straight into the metaphor of a person with no move and no hope left. That is immobilisation = defeat stated as plain idiom, and the root of the proverb ad incitas redigere ("to reduce to a standstill" = to beat utterly; the idiom itself is Plautine — Poenulus — and in Lucilius). This is the Latin tradition independently naming as its image-of-losing exactly what Plato's ἀποκλείονται names in Greek.

Further witnesses — corroborating the keystone

Pollux IX.98 is the keystone, but it is not alone. Three later or lexicographic witnesses independently confirm the two things most of the reconstruction hangs on — that the board is a polis and the pieces are "dogs," and that our game is one of placement and position, not of dice. They are paraphrased here with their references.

Eustathius of Thessalonica, Commentary on the Iliad (on Il. Ψ.88)polis and "dogs," from a second hand

…the spaces of the board are called poleis (cities) by the rule of the game, and the pieces that scheme against one another are called "dogs" (kynes).

A twelfth-century scholar, reading Homer, reaches independently for the same two technical terms Pollux gives — polis for the board, kynes for the pieces. Late, but it shows the vocabulary was not a one-off in Pollux: it was the standard way of naming this game.
Zenobius, Epitome of Proverbs 5.67 (πόλεις παίζειν, "to play cities")the game-name, with a comic source

"To play cities" (poleis paizein): Cratinus recalls it in the Drapetides. The polis is a kind of pessoi-game…

A proverb-collection independently records both the name of the game (playing poleis) and a fifth-century comic attestation (Cratinus). We already meet that Cratinus pun inside Pollux ("dog and city"); Zenobius confirms it from outside, and confirms that "playing cities" was a known idiom.
Hesychius of Alexandria, Lexiconpetteia is not dice

…petteia differs from kybeia (dice-play)…

The lexicographer draws the line our §1A caution depends on: petteia (the position-game) is a different thing from kybeia (dice). Backing, from a fourth witness, for not folding our game into the dice-and-race material — the same separation Pollux himself makes by treating "five-lines" apart (IX.97).

§2What the sources fix vs. leave open

  1. Board is a grid. A Pollux; Varro. Not in dispute.
  2. Capture = custodial enclosure. A The best-attested rule of all — Pollux, confirmed by Ovid and Martial. Bedrock.
  3. Two players, two colours, otherwise-identical pieces. A Pollux ("dogs… two colours"). A single named piece-type, no hierarchy.
  4. No special / leader piece. I strong. No Greek or Roman text mentions a second piece type. The Dux rests entirely on the Stanway arrangement; we treat all pieces as equal (§5).
  5. Victory by immobilisation / blockade. A Plato, Aristotle, Polybius make cornering and being unable to move the defining image. Foregrounded as the primary win. Material reduction is a secondary path I, and a material tie-break decides a stalled game I/D — the plain sense of ad incitas redigere.
  6. Board size. D Open — no Greek dimension survives, and the Roman archaeology spreads across 7×7, 7×8, 8×8, 9×9, 9×10 with none privileged. 7×7 default — equally attested, the squarest of the small boards (inside the computationally-supported 7×8–9×9 range, §1B), and deliberately neither the 8×8 chessboard nor a Go-sized grid, so the game reads as a thing of its own. Size remains tunable; a 9×9 array is first-player-skewed (§6), and board size does not change the blockade outcome (§6C).
  7. Opening — placement. I Nowhere stated in Greek. But the receiving tradition's richest source puts play on the open board (Laus Pisonis), the opposed-rows array is "a chess analogy for which there is no authority" (Wayte, CR 1892), and self-play makes placement the fairest, most varied opening. The Roman reception thus fills a Greek gap: open-board placement, captures suspended during it.
  8. Movement — slide. I Nowhere stated. The reception again supplies it: the Laus Pisonis' "breaking the line" reads as ranged movement, and single-step movement is computationally degenerate (games never resolve; §6) while slide gives a living game. Slide (rook-like).
  9. No suicide. I Capture is mover-initiated; moving into a pre-existing bracket is safe. Universal in the family and required to function.
  10. Multiple simultaneous capture. I One move closing two brackets takes both. (Echoed by "itself checks two.")
  11. Corner capture. D A corner piece taken by bracketing its two approaches. Near-inert in play (§6); on by default, toggleable.
  12. No freeing in the canonical game. I No Greek source supports a rescue mechanic. Freeing belongs, if anywhere, to the Roman reception (§4) — and even there is weakly attested and demonstrably pacifying (§6).

§3The reconstruction — the rules

This is the game published as Pessoi. Below, the historical name petteia / polis marks the tradition; the rules are the playable core.

Players 2.  Board open square grid, 7×7 default, size tunable D (§2.6).  Pieces the "dogs" (kynes) — identical, two colours; player-agreed count, 12 per side a clean default on 7×7, roughly half the city occupied D.

Opening — placement I

Starting from an empty board, players alternate placing one dog on any vacant cell until all are down. No captures during placement.

Movement — slide I

A dog slides orthogonally any number of unobstructed cells (rook-like); it may not pass through or land on an occupied cell. Mobility is generous on purpose: blockade is the soul of the game and needs room to manoeuvre. (Variant: single-step — but see §6, where it is degenerate.)

Capture — enclosure A

After your move, an enemy dog flanked on two opposite orthogonal sides by your dogs is taken and removed immediately. The bracket must be closed by the move just made; a dog that moves into a pre-existing gap is safe (no suicide). One move may close several brackets; all such dogs fall. (Corner capture on by default; toggleable. D)

No immediate move-undo D

A dog may not return on the very next turn to the cell it just left (anti-shuffle).

Victory A primary; I/D secondary

  1. Blockade (primary). You win by leaving your opponent unable to make any legal move — the cornering of Plato, the azux of Aristotle, the blockade of Polybius.
  2. Annihilation (secondary). Reducing the opponent below the two dogs needed ever to capture is also a win.
  3. Material tie-break. If a turn cap is reached, the player with more dogs standing wins; equality alone is a draw — the plain reading of ad incitas redigere, and the rule that (in self-play) turns the austere game from two-thirds drawn to fully decisive without distorting fairness (§6).
On "primary" Blockade is the attested victory and the thematic meaning of defeat — but the engine finds it almost never the way strong play actually ends (capture decides). "Primary" here marks what the sources foreground and what losing means, not the statistically dominant outcome; under competent play the material tie-break is the de-facto decider. This is editorial precision, not a retreat: the texts make immobilisation the image of defeat, never the common result. The full finding is §6C.

§4Ludus Latrunculorum as Roman reception

We read the Roman game as the same game in Latin dress. The hypothesis is economical rather than documented (§0), but it earns its keep three ways.

It shares the entire canonical skeleton. Grid (Varro), equal two-colour pieces (Martial), custodial capture (Ovid) — point for point Pollux's game.

It supplies the two rules the Greek record leaves open. This is the strongest reason to keep the Roman material close rather than discard it. The Greek sources fix the concept (board, pieces, capture, victory) but are silent on opening and movement — exactly the two open choices. The receiving tradition's richest source, the Laus Pisonis, answers both: play on the open board → placement; "breaking the line" → slide. The reception is not decoration; it is evidence for the canonical game's two underdetermined rules.

It corroborates the victory condition. The Latin idiom ad incitas redigere — "reduced to immobility," i.e. beaten (Plautus, Lucilius; the terminology via Isidore) — independently confirms, from the Roman side, that immobilisation is defeat, the very thing Plato and Polybius make central.

Roman-flavour variants (offered, not canonical): the military vocabulary (latrones, ordinarii, the vagusordinarius progression); and the freeing / incitus mechanic — a bracketed piece frozen for a turn and removed next turn unless a flanker is itself trapped. We treat freeing as a possible Roman accretion only: it rests on Schädler's reading of a Senecan metaphor (not an explicit rule), it has no Greek warrant, and under skilled play it nearly abolishes combat (§6). It is the most likely single point of genuine Roman divergence — and precisely the kind of differentiating accretion that, pushed further, becomes chess. We log it and leave it off by default.

Honest caveat. Direct transmission is sparsely attested. A reader who weights embodied texture over parsimony could instead anchor in Ludus (for the Laus Pisonis and the archaeology) and treat petteia as ancestral background — equally coherent, but it trades drift-resistance for richness and demands permanent vigilance against the chess-pull. We have chosen parsimony and the drift-resistant core.


§5Where we break from the standard reconstructions

  1. No Dux / no leader piece (vs. Bell). The leader-piece has no text behind it; it enters through readings of the Stanway arrangement (Parlett floated it, Bell built it). Pollux's undifferentiated "dogs," the silence of every text, and the uniform physical pieces weigh against it; Schädler reads Stanway as plausibly a native British game. All pieces equal.
  2. Blockade restored as the primary victory (vs. Schädler / Murray, who centre reduction-to-one). Plato, Aristotle, and Polybius make immobilisation the image of defeat; we promote it, with material as secondary and a material tie-break. (But "primary" is a claim about attestation and theme, not frequency: the engine shows blockade rarely decides a game even under strong play, and board geometry does not fix this — §6C. We foreground it as the source-attested victory and the meaning of defeat, while acknowledging the material tie-break does the practical work.)
  3. One game, not two — Latrunculi as reception (vs. the whole tradition of parallel Greek / Roman reconstructions). Stripped of accretions the two cannot be told apart; we name the Greek game canonical and the Roman game its reception (§4).
  4. Slide movement (vs. Schädler's single-step), on the Laus Pisonis' "breaking the line," the 2024 computational results, and our own finding that single-step is degenerate.
  5. Placement, not opposed rows (vs. Murray's chess-style array), which has "no authority" (Wayte 1892) and plays worse than placement (§6).
  6. Board honesty. The big rectangular boards (Colchester 8×12) are treated as probably a different game, following the computational stall-out, rather than stretched to fit.

§6The tested program

The design choices were not argued to a conclusion in prose but played to one: a custodial-capture engine with every rule as a flag, a unit-tested capture core (14 tests), an alpha-beta agent that defends and angles for blockade, confidence intervals over self-play, and a playable client. The canonical preset is the §3 game.

What the engine found

The structured-decision rationale and per-rule confidence grades are kept in a companion essay, Design Decisions & Evidential Standing.

6C · The blockade verdict — an open editorial fork

The program was rebuilt for speed (a bitboard engine, parity-verified against the reference on 2,304 games and exact on the evaluation) and extended to three independent agent architectures — a static heuristic, alpha-beta search at depths 2–3 under three evaluations (one written specifically to seek blockade), and an evaluation-free MCTS. This let us put the one question the rest of §6 left implicit: does blockade, which §3 foregrounds as the primary victory, actually decide games under competent play?

The result is stark, and it is robust. Across all three architectures — and again once the placement opening is played competently rather than blindly — blockade decides essentially no games: zero, over several hundred decided games, with upper 95% confidence bounds of only a few percent. What decides them is capture — annihilation under sharp play, the material tie-break otherwise. The finding meets the agent-invariance bar this project set for itself (trust a result only when ≥2 architectures agree); here three do, including the eval-free architecture best suited to a siege.

Why — and it is structural, not a weakness of the players. Blockade and capture pull against each other. To immobilise an enemy stone you must crowd its neighbours, but crowding it custodially tends to capture it (or spring a bracket) first; a true blockade requires keeping enemy stones alive and trapped, a delicate global plan no shallow search assembles and no rollout stumbles into. And the movement rule compounds it: slide movement gives a hemmed-in stone a long-range escape down any open file, so total immobilisation on an open board is extraordinarily hard. The irony is exact — slide was adopted because single-step is degenerate, yet slide is also what puts the canonical victory out of reach.

This forces a choice the engine cannot make. It is set down here as an open editorial fork, not a settled revision:

Response A — editorial precision

Keep blockade as the victory the sources unambiguously attest — Plato's cornering, Polybius' Hamilcar, Aristotle's azux are not in doubt — but stop letting "primary" imply it is how strong play wins. State plainly that under competent play the material tie-break (already adopted in §3 for decisiveness) is the de-facto decider, with blockade the rarer, more elegant finish and the thematic image of defeat. This costs the headline that most sharply distinguished this reconstruction from Schädler / Murray (§5.2) — but it is the more defensible reading, because what is graded A is that blockade is a decisive condition and the image of defeat, never that it is the statistically dominant outcome.

Response B — revisit a design choice

Treat the 0% as evidence a design choice mis-serves the attested goal, and change it. The prime suspect is slide movement — but reverting to step reintroduces the degeneracy §6 rejected, trading one pathology for another. The gentler lever is board size: blockade is markedly easier on smaller or edge-dense boards, several of which are archaeologically attested. The cost is honesty about motive — this would tune an open choice not toward the better-playing game but toward making an attested ideal also the common outcome, inverting the governing rule that playability chooses only among what the sources leave open (§0).

The responses are not exclusive — one could adopt A in the prose now and flag board size as a live experiment. What the engine establishes is only the fact that forces the choice: as the canonical rules stand, the soul of the game and the way the game is won are not the same thing.

Postscript — the board-size lever, tested Response B's gentler option was then put to the engine: a blockade-seeking agent over boards from 5×5 to 9×9 at two densities. The result discourages it. No board at natural (~half-full) density produced any blockade; only small, unattested boards (5×5, 6×6) crowded to ~70% fill yielded a 3–7% rate, and the smallest attested board, 7×7, gave none even when crowded. Board geometry does not buy back blockade within the evidence — which leaves Response A as the resolution, and it is adopted in §3 and §5.2 above. (The same experiment did, separately, motivate moving the default board off the 8×8 chessboard to 7×7§2.6 — a distinctiveness gain, not a blockade fix. It also confirmed the instrument is sound: the engine does register blockades where the geometry permits them, so the 0% on the canonical board is a real property, not a blind spot.)

§7Sources

The key passages are quoted in the original and in fresh translation in §1C, "The witnesses in their own words."

Greek (the canonical game). Homer, Odyssey 1.107 · Plato, Republic 487b–c; Phaedrus 274c–d · Aristotle, Politics 1253a · Polybius, Histories 1.84.7–8 (on Hamilcar Barca) · Pollux, Onomasticon IX.97–98 (keystone).

Roman (the reception). Varro, De Lingua Latina X.22 · Ovid, Ars Amatoria III.357–360; Tristia II.477 · Martial, Epigrams XIV.17 · Laus Pisonis 190–208 · Seneca (the alligatus metaphor) · Isidore, Etymologiae XVIII · Plautus, Poenulus 905 & Lucilius (ad incitas redigere).

Secondary (interpreters). Wayte, Classical Review VI (1892) · Austin, "Roman Board Games" (1934–35) · Murray, A History of Board-Games Other Than Chess (1952) · Bell, Board and Table Games · Schädler, Latrunculi (1994) & "The Doctor's Game" (2007) · Parlett, Oxford History of Board Games (1999) · Crist, Piette, Soemers, Stephenson & Browne (2024).

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