Table Tales: In Praise of Game Conventions

As I've said in Table Tales before, I love a games convention. I wouldn’t be writing this now if I had not discovered them.

My first con was Phantastacon 82 in Melbourne*, where I volunteered to be a DM for the major AD&D tournament. In those days tournaments were entirely about killer puzzles, careful spell use, and smart tactics; only the best teams survived. The module was strong on strategy, but light on story, so that made me want to write an AD&D tournament scenario for the Melbourne University D&D Association.

Three years later I’d long since moved on to Chaosium roleplaying games, and mailed a letter to Greg Stafford to see if he would be interested in publishing what we were up to. The rest is 40 years of dice-jangling and word-wrangling history. But none of it would have happened without the infamously unkillable Purple Dragon of Phantastacon.

I still love a games convention, but man, I adore a Chaosium Con.

There's something truly magical (with extra eldritch) in hanging out for a weekend with several hundred people who are all on the same gaming journey as you: lifelong Chaosium fans, one and all, just starting out or still living in Arkham, Camelot, and Glorantha. Some were there the day that the first Rune spells were spoken (we’re talking original RuneQuest, give it up for my man Rurik over here), and some only just picked up their first Call of Cthulhu rulebook recently. We are all us.

At a Chaosium Con, you can sit down with absolutely anyone at the gaming table or in the bar and immediately have something in common. I’m still on Cloud D100 after six amazing game sessions and almost as many panels at Chaosium Con EU, not to mention that it was held in Gdańsk, a centuries-old city that takes your breath away with every turn.

It’s so rare to be at a con where everyone is here for the same reason, and the camaraderie is exhilarating.

What did you just play? Are you running something? What’s your favourite scenario?

It’s dozens of new friendships waiting to happen, or a jaw-dropping surprise.

That really lovely and humble Swedish duo, Gunilla and Michael mentioned they had written some things. Oh what, I asked, and was astonished to find out that I was talking to the original designers of Kult, a game so dark and intense that I could barely dare to open it. But they seemed so nice… (They really, really were. And they write for the Swedish edition of Call of Cthulhu, too.)

That’s how it goes, for a whole weekend plus change. There’s something in the air: the crackle of new ideas. From the inspiration fuel served up at the many panels listening to and asking questions of artists, writers, and GMs, to the stories happening at the gaming tables. I really liked the way he used narrative description; I learned a lot from the way she streamlined combat; oh my word, they were freakin’ hilarious to play with.

And, when I ran my own scenarios, I found better ways to move between scenes, and plot holes that needed patching, all thanks to meeting marvelous new players in our collective imaginations. 

Happily I’m not homesick for cons, because in three weeks I’m going to do it all again! Chaosium Con New Zealand is coming up in Wellington, a city I’ve never been to, but have always wanted to visit. Now that I know how affordable it is to fly there from Australia, shame on me. I can’t wait to make up for lost time. I hope I’ll see you there!

* Yes, I am a Gamer of a Certain Age. I prefer to think of myself as a Mediocre Old One.