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On AP! (Yeah, You Know Me)
This weekend, I went to Gamex, one of three annual gaming conventions in Los Angeles under the collective name Strategicon. This is the second one I've been to. I attended Orccon in February, and I've been meaning to write up my experience since then. Of course, this weekend I actually promised someone I'd write up my Gamex experience, so I actually have to do that now.
Friday Afternoon. The RPG slate was smaller this year due to a few things, so unlike Orccon, I didn't have a game at three o'clock on Friday afternoon. Instead, I got there a little early to look at the signups and maybe play a few games. I saw some of the gamers from Nerd SoCal, and sat down to watch them play Carcassone. I just watched, because I do that sometimes. Then we moved up to the bar where more of us congregated, and I grabbed some dinner.
Friday, 8:00. Swords and Sorcery in a Wicked Age (James Ritter ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
joshroby). Since most of the people signed up for (or looking to crash) this game were already in the bar, we made our first decision to switch rooms. One of the reasons that the RPG slate dropped was that the games were now being scheduled in conference rooms with multiple tables. At Orccon (and for many years before), RPGs were played in individual rooms, where games could be as loud or as quiet as they desired.
So we moved to the Penthouse next to the bar. According to the convention map, it was allocated for RPG/LARP use, but the tables were all set up for minis. Regardless, it was big quiet and empty, so we settled in. Since there were so many alternate players, James split us into two games, and I settled in with Josh, Will, and Richard to play In a Wicked Age.
This is the second time I've played this game, and I really enjoy it. It's a bit odd, but it runs smoothly (generally) and there's a lot of power in the game. But it runs differently from other games. For one thing, instead of having a strict setting or a planned adventure, players consult an oracle. The oracle provides a glimpse of the story to come, and players choose protagonists based on the characters seen or implied by the oracle. Then the action comes from the interplay of characters. Our reading from Nest of Vipers was, I believe:
Things got off to a rocky start, with a few scenes that didn't really get the conflict moving. The prince exiled the dandy easily. The houndskeeper told the emperor of his suspicions of foul play, but he had neither a suspect nor proof. The ghost dog kept watching. The houndskeeper met the dandy sneaking back into the castle.
I started developing an odd character. In the very first scene, exiling the prince, I froze trying to decide if "latitude" or "leniency" was the appropriate word, or if there was another word I was reaching for. Since I had left my arm grandly outstretched (and possibly my mouth handing open), it was an odd little moment. I decided that the prince was very, very bad with words. Since the empire seemed newly established, it seemed appropriate that he had been a mighty warrior, but was proving inept as a noble in court. I would spend a lot of time jamming my foot into my mouth, talking more than necessary, and committing malapropisms.
Eventually, Josh was inspired to create a new NPC, a visiting dignitary, who seemed to grease the wheels a bit. The ghost dog revealed herself to her, which got the investigation moving. The prince had to play the diplomat, while the ghost dog popped up at inopportune times to disconcert him. The houndskeeper was tricked by the dandy into condemning the gardener (whom the prince eagerly exiled). The emperor rebuked the prince for this action, and the prince was forced to conduct an investigation of his own. When the houndskeeper and the dandy's catspaw were jointly interrogated, it was the honest houndskeeper who slipped up and was put into the dungeons.
The prince was berated by the emperor for allowing the miscarriage of justice, and ordered him to find the gardener and restore him to his position. The prince reluctantly agreed but managed to convince the emperor to give him sole control over the palace guards. After giving a private apology to the gardener, the prince was surprised to learn that the gardener had not been found by the palace guards, but by the dandy in disguise, hoping to prove himself to the prince.
The prince killed him then and there.
Meanwhile, in the dungeons, the ghost dog scared the prison guards, gave the houndskeeper the key to his cell, and convinced him that the prince was the true killer. The houndskeeper then sat in the cell anyway because he didn't want to risk getting killed by the guards while trying to escape, even with the key. ("The prisoner is . . . hey why are you still in there?" "Here's your key." "Um, thanks. Just keep . . . not escaping.")
The ghost dog appeared to the princess and the dignitary, now clearly working together against the prince. The ghost dog agreed to be bound to the princess's will.
The stage was set for the final banquet. The houndskeeper was flogged and exiled, but he set his hounds to kill as he left. When the ghost dog attacked the prince, the psychic pain was too much; the prince acknowledged his crime before the whole court. With the public admission, the spirit was at peace. But the hound departed this plane too soon, for the prince refused to take responsibility for his actions. When the princess tried to goad the prince into entering the kennels where the houndskeeper's charges were ready to tear him limb from limb, he managed to threaten her enough that she left the banquet. When the emperor tried to bring back the houndskeeper and hold the prince accountable, he found that the guards were now only loyal to the prince, who initiated a shadow coup. In the end, it was the prince, murderous, blunt, and violent, who emerged triumphant.
The houndskeeper was beaten but alive. And as he left the court, he gave one final command to his dogs. One, his prize hound, broke into the banquet hall, leapt at the prince, and gnashed at his face, leaving a mess of blood that promised everlasting, vicious scars. Then he and the other hounds escaped the palace to join the houndskeeper in his exile.
After hours. I didn't really do much after that. Everyone chatted for a while in the penthouse (even though the bar was still open next door), but I went home pretty quickly, giving a few people a ride to the nearby hotel.
Friday Afternoon. The RPG slate was smaller this year due to a few things, so unlike Orccon, I didn't have a game at three o'clock on Friday afternoon. Instead, I got there a little early to look at the signups and maybe play a few games. I saw some of the gamers from Nerd SoCal, and sat down to watch them play Carcassone. I just watched, because I do that sometimes. Then we moved up to the bar where more of us congregated, and I grabbed some dinner.
Friday, 8:00. Swords and Sorcery in a Wicked Age (
joshroby). Since most of the people signed up for (or looking to crash) this game were already in the bar, we made our first decision to switch rooms. One of the reasons that the RPG slate dropped was that the games were now being scheduled in conference rooms with multiple tables. At Orccon (and for many years before), RPGs were played in individual rooms, where games could be as loud or as quiet as they desired.So we moved to the Penthouse next to the bar. According to the convention map, it was allocated for RPG/LARP use, but the tables were all set up for minis. Regardless, it was big quiet and empty, so we settled in. Since there were so many alternate players, James split us into two games, and I settled in with Josh, Will, and Richard to play In a Wicked Age.
This is the second time I've played this game, and I really enjoy it. It's a bit odd, but it runs smoothly (generally) and there's a lot of power in the game. But it runs differently from other games. For one thing, instead of having a strict setting or a planned adventure, players consult an oracle. The oracle provides a glimpse of the story to come, and players choose protagonists based on the characters seen or implied by the oracle. Then the action comes from the interplay of characters. Our reading from Nest of Vipers was, I believe:
- The corpse of a lord's hunting hound, caught in a rose-briar.
- A court dandy, casually cruel, exiled from the presence of the prince for a petty slight.
- One mistakenly condemned, fled into hiding.
- The daughter of an emperor, denied nothing, prey to fleeting whims, craving discipline.
Things got off to a rocky start, with a few scenes that didn't really get the conflict moving. The prince exiled the dandy easily. The houndskeeper told the emperor of his suspicions of foul play, but he had neither a suspect nor proof. The ghost dog kept watching. The houndskeeper met the dandy sneaking back into the castle.
I started developing an odd character. In the very first scene, exiling the prince, I froze trying to decide if "latitude" or "leniency" was the appropriate word, or if there was another word I was reaching for. Since I had left my arm grandly outstretched (and possibly my mouth handing open), it was an odd little moment. I decided that the prince was very, very bad with words. Since the empire seemed newly established, it seemed appropriate that he had been a mighty warrior, but was proving inept as a noble in court. I would spend a lot of time jamming my foot into my mouth, talking more than necessary, and committing malapropisms.
Eventually, Josh was inspired to create a new NPC, a visiting dignitary, who seemed to grease the wheels a bit. The ghost dog revealed herself to her, which got the investigation moving. The prince had to play the diplomat, while the ghost dog popped up at inopportune times to disconcert him. The houndskeeper was tricked by the dandy into condemning the gardener (whom the prince eagerly exiled). The emperor rebuked the prince for this action, and the prince was forced to conduct an investigation of his own. When the houndskeeper and the dandy's catspaw were jointly interrogated, it was the honest houndskeeper who slipped up and was put into the dungeons.
The prince was berated by the emperor for allowing the miscarriage of justice, and ordered him to find the gardener and restore him to his position. The prince reluctantly agreed but managed to convince the emperor to give him sole control over the palace guards. After giving a private apology to the gardener, the prince was surprised to learn that the gardener had not been found by the palace guards, but by the dandy in disguise, hoping to prove himself to the prince.
The prince killed him then and there.
Meanwhile, in the dungeons, the ghost dog scared the prison guards, gave the houndskeeper the key to his cell, and convinced him that the prince was the true killer. The houndskeeper then sat in the cell anyway because he didn't want to risk getting killed by the guards while trying to escape, even with the key. ("The prisoner is . . . hey why are you still in there?" "Here's your key." "Um, thanks. Just keep . . . not escaping.")
The ghost dog appeared to the princess and the dignitary, now clearly working together against the prince. The ghost dog agreed to be bound to the princess's will.
The stage was set for the final banquet. The houndskeeper was flogged and exiled, but he set his hounds to kill as he left. When the ghost dog attacked the prince, the psychic pain was too much; the prince acknowledged his crime before the whole court. With the public admission, the spirit was at peace. But the hound departed this plane too soon, for the prince refused to take responsibility for his actions. When the princess tried to goad the prince into entering the kennels where the houndskeeper's charges were ready to tear him limb from limb, he managed to threaten her enough that she left the banquet. When the emperor tried to bring back the houndskeeper and hold the prince accountable, he found that the guards were now only loyal to the prince, who initiated a shadow coup. In the end, it was the prince, murderous, blunt, and violent, who emerged triumphant.
The houndskeeper was beaten but alive. And as he left the court, he gave one final command to his dogs. One, his prize hound, broke into the banquet hall, leapt at the prince, and gnashed at his face, leaving a mess of blood that promised everlasting, vicious scars. Then he and the other hounds escaped the palace to join the houndskeeper in his exile.
After hours. I didn't really do much after that. Everyone chatted for a while in the penthouse (even though the bar was still open next door), but I went home pretty quickly, giving a few people a ride to the nearby hotel.
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Fast finding. Methinks somebody has a Google Alert.
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