Let's roll some dice, watch some movies, or generally just geek out. New posts at 6:30 pm ET but only if I have something to say. Menu at the top. gsllc@chirp.enworld.org on Mastodon and @gsllc on Twitter.
A little over a year ago, I wrote a post about my glory days of Dungeons & Dragons (“D&D“) living campaigns. I left D&D in 1982 due to the Satanic Panic and didn’t return until 2005. When I came back, Living Greyhawk was ongoing, and the TTRPG culture surrounding it was great. A little later, Living Forgotten Realms came along, and not only did Wizards of the Coast (“WotC“) up their game, but so did my friends and I, running weekly games at up to six Washington, DC area sites for 250+ RPG Gamers’ Syndicate members, plus weeknight stuff (i.e., D&D Encounters), and for two years, a convention. The entire experience was robust, which I think is a perfect word to describe it. Because I quickly grew tired of 5th Edition D&D, all of that fell off the radar for me.
Fast forward to this past week. A new coworker saw a d20 on my desk and asked if I play D&D. The conversation turned to those glory days, and she asked if that stuff was still going on. I told her I’d look into it. I asked around my old channels and got no reply. I went to the WotC store locator, and long story short, there were no official D&D Adventure League retailers in Northen Virginia. Huzzah Hobbies still exists, but there are no D&D games on their events schedule. Everything I came back to in 2005, and last dealt with in maybe 2019, is gone. The only infrastructure is online through social media sites in which my coworker isn’t interested (e.g., Facebook), and as I mentioned above, reaching out to Facebook groups resulted in no responses. She and her husband are in a single online game via Discord but want to sit around a table and throw dice. When I explained how living campaigns worked, she found that incredibly intriguing.
Something wonderful is missing. The community seems disjointed because more than just the game itself has been relegated to technology. TTRPGs have always been social in nature.
You’re probably prone to think this is a function of my age; however, before I was an attorney, I was a database geek. Not only do I not fear technology; I love it. After all, I’m currently creating digital character builders for various games. Applying technology to game play itself is a great thing. I don’t like playing games without digital character builders (hence, my projects). Moreover, my coworker is probably 25 years younger than I (maybe more) and has been playing D&D for less than a year. She has no nostalgic ties to the early 2000s culture. She simply knows that she wants what I used to take for granted, but it’s no longer available in Northern Virginia. Despite not personally needing this real sense of community, I find that sad. Maybe there’s a timely lesson in this that applies to more than just TTRPGs.
So, Winter Fantasy 49 is in the books. This is one of two vacations I take every year, and it’s probably the most fun. The nerds don’t see how that’s possible. I go to a gaming convention and play few (if any) games. This year, I had one game on the schedule, and it was canceled due to a car accident. (Everyone’s okay.) I didn’t put anything in its place. I don’t go to Winter Fantasy to game; I go to hang out with people and, for the only time of the year, drink like a fish. I probably had more to drink this week than I’ll have for the remainder of the year.
One more piece of flair for the den.
Good Habits
I’m a part of Winter Vantasy. In fact, I’m one of only two members that was there from the beginning. A bunch of people pile into a van and play D&D most of the way to Ft. Wayne. It’s the best 10 hours in gaming. We have certain rituals we follow, like lunch at Black Bear Burritos in Morgantown, WV, Sunday dinner at Portillo’s, and after hours drinking at the Brass Rail (best bar ever). It seems we add a new ritual to the trip every year.
Our new Monday-morning ritual.
Bad Habits
I also didn’t eat particularly well, but my blood pressure is still optimal, and I came home weighing what I weighed when I left. I believe I can credit that to the fact that I went to the gym all five mornings that I was in Ft. Wayne, including the morning we left. I’ve never done that before. Drinking and eating until late Sunday night and having to get up early the next morning to drive home, there’s very little chance of getting up early enough for the gym, but I did it.
The Downside
The only bad thing about the show this year is something that was beyond Baldman’s control. The convenient watering hole shut down and has yet to be replaced. That means that people are either reliant on hotel bars (which close early) or have to walk a few blocks in arctic weather to get to a good one. In gaming parlance, that means we “split the party,” which created a (not so) funny vibe, and combined with the lower attendance this year, meant that I didn’t see a bunch of my friends. The Baldman will try to make arrangements next year to create a good space for us to meet, and I have confidence he’ll succeed. Also, see What’s Next? below.
What Did I Do All Day?
I heard this question a lot. Almost 15 years ago (the days of 4th Edition D&D), I, and others, organized a convention, synDCon, and in our second year, I created synDClash, which were a set of six dungeon delves each based on a different classic 1st Edition adventure. The Saturday before Winter Fantasy, I ran a couple of them for my 4e group. They were a hit, and I suspect the group will play them again when we don’t have a quorum. This inspired me to write two more delves during my downtime in Ft. Wayne. I finished Tomoachan’s Treasure (based on C2: The Hidden Shrine of Tomoachan) and finished two of the three encounters for White Plume Beckons (based on S2: White Plume Mountain). I’ll finish up White Plume Beckons today (EDIT: Done!), at which point I’ll have eight of them.
I love encounter #2 of Tomoachan’s Treasure.
I put in a couple twists to the two I wrote this week. For Tomoachan, I gave it a bit of a Raiders of the Lost Ark vibe. For White Plume, I allow the players to determine the order of the encounters and to gain use of the artifact they obtain. For those that metagame that decision, they may be a bit surprised.
I’m mulling about writing delves for B1: Into the Unknown (perhaps called, “You Still Don’t Know Shit!”) and S1: Tomb of Horrors (maybe adding a twelfth pre-gen named Lara Croft), but I’m not sure if those are well-suited as delves. I could imagine people might be interested in me creating them for the A series (i.e., the “slavers’ series”) and perhaps X1: Isle of the Dread, and I know one member of my 4e group that would be particularly interested in I3: Pharoah, but I never played any of those mods, so I’m not sure I could do them justice. The same with T1: The Village of Hommlet and U1: The Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh. However, I enjoy the writing, so in time I might give at least some of them a shot.
What’s Next?
Next year, I may play a couple of games. Hell, I might even run one (based on a silly promise I made). Next year’s show will be #50, and they’re creating a new living campaign set in Greyhawk using 5th Edition D&D rules. I might as well give it a try even though I’m not much of a 5e guy. After all, I hate 3rd Edition, but I’ll play it with the right group of people. The thing about Winter Fantasy is, for lack of a better word, that it’s cozy. It’s small enough that you’ll always (except this year) see your friends, but it’s large enough that there’s a decent number of things to do and you’ll always make new friends. If you haven’t been to Winter Fantasy, next year may be the best year to attend. If so, I’ll see you there.
Last night, I hosted the 7th session of a 4th EditionD&D (“4e“) campaign that’s being run by my friend, Luddite Vic, but is based on a campaign setting that he and I created (still a work in progress). We’ll be alternating DMing duties, so I’ll get to run and play the game. As always, this led to reminiscing about the 4e days. For example, one of the players is almost finished converting Teos’s Ashes of Athas adventures to 5th Edition D&D. The conversations got me thinking (as always). I know that 4e is probably the most maligned edition of the game. It’s accused of not being “real D&D” by those who constantly complain when others say “you’re playing D&D wrong.” The hypocrisy keeps me from caring about that, but the reality is that it wasn’t nearly as popular as the other editions during each edition’s heyday. Nevertheless, for the Washington, DC area, the era of 4e was, as far as I can tell, the golden era of organized play and was the best the TTRPG community was ever organized.
Vic and I were two of the founders of the Gamers’ Syndicate gaming club that boasted about 250 members. With a lot of help from too many people to list here, we organized gamedays every single Saturday at, if I recall correctly, six different sites. We additionally organized and ran Wizard of the Coast‘s Encounters program at some of those sites one weekday a week. We (and Stephen and Cassandra) put on a convention, synDCon for two years. Nevertheless, I realize my experience is ultimately anecdotal, and I haven’t taken any polls to back up these claims, so take this with a grain of salt.
So, during the 4e era, we had two events regularly occurring every week in Chantilly, VA; Woodbridge, VA; Rockville, MD; Ashburn, VA; and some other spots occasionally. Every event had two to six tables of games being run, but we occasionally ran special events (i.e., battle interactives) that doubled the number of tables. (Somewhere out there is an embarrassing video of me being forced to LARP the introductory scene to a battle interactive. LARPs have never been my thing.) I can’t explain how, but we never turned away a single player. If someone showed up without registering, either Vic or I immediately organized another table and ran it ourselves if no one else could. We always organized with that possibility in mind.
What Edition Warriors Don’t Get
Our success came not only through organizing the 4e living campaign, Living Forgotten Realms (“LFR“), but also by including Pathfinder Society, Greyhawk Reborn, Shadowrun Missions, and Heroes of Rokugan living campaigns in our organizing. I even ran my own 4th Edition Gamma World adventure at one weekend gameday. Community interaction exploded even beyond what we experienced for Living Greyhawk, and everyone was happier for it. I don’t think anyone in the DC area brought TTRPG gamers together more than we did, but even after they formed home games from their new connections, these players still showed up to our events. They were just too much fun.
There were a couple other gaming groups nearby with whom we didn’t coordinate at all. We shared members with these groups, so it’s hard to really know who organized more people, but I’d bet good money we organized more events. We were at it literally every weekend for years.
Fast Forward to Today
This isn’t happening nearly as much today as far as I can tell, and if I’m right, there are at least a few reasons I can think of for the waning of these events. First, to a non-negligible extent, gaming is moving online. Face-to-face gaming, while still a majority of gaming, is slowly being chipped away by modern technology. Second, despite all its PR disasters, Wizards of the Coast (“WotC“) still dictates the industry (and by extension, the community) because they have the most valuable TTRPG trademark, Dungeons and Dragons. Because there are more people playing in general, the need for supporting game day organizers, or even game stores, has diminished. It simply makes less fiscal sense to worry about whether people like Vic and I are putting butts into public play seats. To the extent that’s still useful, WotC is going to rely on conventions, not game days, for organized play, and those are neither cheap nor as personal (but see Winter Fantasy hosted by Baldman Games). The Encounters program and the true DM rewards program no longer even exist, so what’s the point of game store gamedays? Third, this has led to a reduction of the number of game stores, at least in the DC area, so there aren’t a lot of affordable places for large crowds to organize. Fourth, and most importantly, I don’t think anyone was willing to work as hard as Vic and I at putting these events together. As I said above, we had a lot of help, and sometimes those people did an admirable amount of work without compensation, but every single one of them would tell you that they weren’t willing to do nearly as much work that Vic and I did. Today, neither of us has time for that, nor do we have the motivation considering WotC‘s approach, but if someone else did, I think the first three causes I mentioned would be rendered moot. Hard work cures almost all that ails us.
Change is Inevitable
It’s really not like this.
This is largely just an old guy rant, but not in the stereotypical way. I’m not angry. In fact, I’m doing great. I’m hosting a 1st Edition D&D game I run, and I’m hosting the 4e game I mentioned above. I’m getting exactly what I want. As for the newer gamers, if they don’t realize what type of an awesome community we had in those days and and are happy because they don’t know what they’re missing, that’s fine too. I do feel bad for my contemporaries from those days that no longer play because what I’m describing is no longer largely available, but ultimately that’s their choice, and if they’re weren’t happy, they’d make another choice. As long as everyone is happy, regardless of what they’re playing or whether they’re playing, all is well, but if they ever ask me, I’ll make it clear to them that it could be better.
Timing is apparently not my strong suit. A few days ago, someone mentioned how much they loved the graveyard scene in the Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves. Watch the scene here before it disappears.
I wasn’t as big a fan of the scene. Sure, it was funny, but it exemplifies the difference between legacy and modern gamers. Okay, I mean old people and young people. Whatever. As D&D players, we all want this movie to emulate the game, so our different approaches to the game affect our reactions to the movie or individual scenes. In the old days, failure was a thing in RPGs. If a magic user (that’s a wizard for the young’uns) wanted to learn a new spell, the player rolled percentile dice with a target number dependent on the character’s intelligence. If the roll failed, the wizard not only didn’t learn the spell, but could never learn it. Ever. That’s failure. The dice giveth, and the dice taketh away.
Nowadays, failure has fallen out of favor, granted to different degrees depending on the individual. Today, if a player were told that they could never learn the fireball spell, they’d be furious. If they couldn’t deduce a password from a riddle, it’s possible they’d quit your game. As I’ve discussed before (see the section, Another Example: The Puzzle Encounter), I once had players get angry at me because they couldn’t solve a puzzle trap, and as a result, the trap went off doing zero (0) points of damage to them.
Yeah, you read that right, but read it again if you don’t think you did.
Play whatever game you want — that’s the name of this blog — but I find this approach boring. I don’t try to solve easy sudoku puzzles; I go for the hard ones. I want the chance of failure because that’s how I improve. But even from a purely entertainment perspective, what’s the point of rolling the dice or even showing up to the game if you know the outcome? The players should instead tell the DM how they want the session to go, and the DM respond, “Sure, that’s what happened. Congratulations. You won D&D. Now get out of here and play some miniature golf or something.” Where’s the excitement in that? I really don’t get it, and it’s why I’m not involved in organized play anymore. Most tables just hand the players the victories.
This is not to say that I enjoy the notion of a character dying during character creation as in Traveler. There should be a chance of success, and the chances should tilt in favor of the players, but when the players don’t start enjoying my game until I remove all the challenge from it, I think the pendulum has swung too far in the other direction.
Nowadays, players don’t accept near enough failure in their games for them to be of interest to me, and the graveyard scene demonstrates this point. The point of the scene was to do something funny, and it succeeded, at least at first. I have no problem with that. However, after they failed, they simply tried again. And again. And again. The resource allowing them to speak with the dead was apparently unlimited, which means they couldn’t fail. Not only did that remove all consequences, and thus appear non-heroic, but it also detracted from the joke itself. Repeating a joke too many times is one way to ruin it. Why is the screw up funny if this is an unlimited trial-and-error.
The resource.
I would have written the scene in one of two alternative ways, and this is how my game would play out. First, they fail, so they have to be clever and come up with a different way to learn the information they need. Because this is a movie, that may not work. The movie could get really long, and no one really wants to watch a movie about people studying at a library. Second, they fail, but they get only one more bite at the apple. This time, they plan it out, come up with the five questions, assign one person to ask them, and everyone else shuts their annoying mouths (that’s another issue altogether).
That’s funny and heroic because the characters still had to rise to the occasion. But I really don’t think people want true heroes anymore, which is also demonstrated by this scene. They want to see idiots . . . .
. . . like him . . .
. . . win the day despite having none of the tools, including the personality and strength of character, to succeed. The only reason he succeeds is because the script says so. There’s nothing about him, even in a world of magic and monsters, that justifies his success logically. Even within that world, he’s a screw up, but he suddenly succeeds, because the screenwriters know that’s what the modern gamer wants to see, and they’re the foundation of the audience for this movie. After his success, he returns to being the same idiot that shouldn’t have succeeded in the first place. He didn’t improve; he was just handed success by the writers. This reminds me of another example.
None of us are perfect; some of us just can’t handle being reminded of that.
I posted this goofy meme across social media this past week.
I received a not-so-goofy response. Long story short, Zephyr the Dream Dragon on Mastodon responded that he’d never want to use wand-wielding conductors as models because he’s worried he’d get sued by J.K. Rowling. Now, I think Zephyr gets it. I think Zephyr realizes that any such lawsuit would be frivolous. But not everyone does, and that’s a huge problem. It also pisses me off.
I’ve had too many conversations with too many people that think the WotC’s open gaming license (“OGL”) and its clones are legitimate licenses. WotC’s OGL is most certainly not, failing on multiplefundamental points, some of which you learn about in the first week or so of Contracts Law class. (Even when they get something right, it’s a potential disaster.) My posts on the ORC raise some doubts, but certainly leave open the possibility that the ORC is a legitimate license (albeit an unnecessary one) under very narrow set of circumstances and making some huge assumptions as to how courts will rule. However, even if enforceable, the ORC misstates the law and contains clearly unenforceable language designed to do nothing else but make you think they’re doing something better than WotC. That dishonesty is the symptom of a larger disease.
All of these gaming companies that are producing OGLs knowing full well that they’re probably not enforceable, and in any event can be done in a better way (public domain).
So, when (for example) both Paizo and WotC claim, implicitly or expressly, that single words can be copyrighted, or even that short phrases can be copyrighted, it’s no small matter. Too many people, whether they understand the ridiculousness of the claim or not, abide by their wishes and self-censor, as do the multitude of those that do believe that to be true.*** That’s utter horseshit. The purpose of copyright isn’t to reward artists for their hard work; that’s just a mechanism to achieve the true goal. The true goal is to give us, the public in general, an environment rich in art. But if copyright is used to suppress the creativity of artists, why have it? In fact, doing so is copyright misuse, but how often is that punished?
*** My point is that, while I can’t fix economic issues that cause your self-censorship, I can certainly fix legal misunderstandings that cause it, but you have to be willing to accept that you’ve been fooled all these years.
What we really need is a cheap tribunal (think small claims court of copyright infringement) that’s not as narrowly useful as what we currently have. People should be able to fight frivolous claims of copyright infringement regardless of their financial means or legal sophistication, and they should be able to do so relatively quickly. That’s far easier said than done, but our system doesn’t even try, and as much as it pains me to say this, if the copyright (or any) system runs contrary to its own purpose for existing, it shouldn’t exist. I don’t want that, because a properly constructed copyright system can be extremely beneficial to society. So, I’d desperately like to see us fix it, and the RPG industry’s misstatements of the law are an unnecessary barrier to that goal.
I’m back from my second-ever Origins trip, the last being 2009. I took today (Monday) off because I knew I’d need to decompress, so I’m taking this time to record two videos. The first is below. The second will go up tomorrow.
Here’s a good thing I forgot to mention in the video. For logistical reasons, my diet went to hell on this trip, and I hit the gym only once in three days, but because of all the running around and carrying of heavy objects, I returned home at the same weight at which I left.
Moving on, this was a work trip. Here are some images of the “Learn to Play” game I ran. They used a model of a ship made by WizKids, which I’m told runs for $250. For what it’s worth, considering how overpriced WizKids minis are, that seems like a good deal. It’s not something everyone can afford, but at least it isn’t a genuine rip off.
The decks at either end of the ship can be removed to expose the lower decks beneath them.
That rudder moves. The only disappointing thing about this model is that the magnets holding the masts in place are too week, and there’s no magnet holding the helm in place. Still, this model provides some impressive detail.
Notice that the flaps can be opened to allow for the cannons to fire. Unfortunately, there are no cannons included. FYI, the watery battlemap costs $60.
I’m no dick. Well, actually, I am, but I was given express permission to show these players on social media.
The woman on the left had never played an RPG before that day, yet she was the first of only two players that exploited my command in the smartest way possible. I said, “Place your minis anywhere you want on the boat.” You see that archer mini on what is effectively the crow’s nest? That’s hers, completely safe from what I was about to unleash on the party. Good job, newbie.
I had a lot of fun goofing off wither everyone. While most players in my slot were experienced players looking for a 2-hour slot instead of a 4-hour slot, this was about introducing new players to the game. Those players don’t have preconceived notions as to how they’re “supposed” to play. They’re an open book and can sometimes be the best players around the table.
You’ll probably have to twist my arm to get me to go back next year.
On June 5th, to (understandably) little fanfare, I announced that I was heading to Origins. I’m leaving on Thursday after work, so I won’t be getting into Columbus, OH until after midnight. That means my effective schedule is as follows:
Friday
9 am – 1 pm
Free
Friday
2 pm – 6 pm
Running games
Friday
7 pm – 11 pm
Running games
Saturday
9 am – 1 pm
Running games
Saturday
2 pm – 6 pm
Free
Saturday
7 pm – 11 pm
Running games
Sunday
9 am – 2 pm
Running games
Sunday
2 pm
Leaving for home.
So, if you want to hang out during my downtime, let me know. I will want to hit the gym Friday morning, but I’m an early riser nowadays, so that shouldn’t get in the way of a breakfast or late morning hangout that day.
Here’s an Idea
I’m bringing some stuff with me. Old school stuff. AD&D stuff. I’ll be prepared to run a 1st Edition D&D version of module S2: White Plume Mountain, and I’m going to try to be able to run module C2: The Ghost Tower of Inverness in case anyone would prefer that. I’ll have pre-generated characters ready to go. This isn’t for an official slot, but if anyone wants to sit down in a hotel lobby and play a 4-hour session of one of those mods on Saturday afternoon, let me know. I’m also willing to grab a table at the convention if Dave has room and everyone would rather meet there, but if so, you’ll have to have a ticket.
If, on the other hand, you just want to hang out, that’s cool too. I tried this as an official game at the last Winter Fantasy, but it didn’t work out, and it certainly wouldn’t surprise me if it didn’t work out at Origins. Still, it can’t hurt to be prepared.
At least, that’s what the U.S. Coast Guard tells us.
A few weeks ago, I hosted another 1st Edition Dungeons & Dragons (“1e”) game at my home. The group spent over an hour at the start of the session just reminiscing about the good old days when most of us first met. This was during the era of 4th Edition. Inevitably, the subject of synDCon came up. synDCon was the gaming convention financed primarily by Vic and me. The two of us did almost all the work of running the convention once it began. It was large enough that we had everything represented (see below), yet still maintained the coziness of conventions like Winter Fantasy.
synDCon Was Awesome
I need to put my modesty aside for a bit and say that we pulled off something magical (pun absolutely intended). In our first year, we took advantage of a holiday and put on a four-day convention. We provided tons of organized play: Living Forgotten Realms (4e), Pathfinder Society, and Heroes of Rokugan (Legend of the Five Rings). We also had individual games from less popular RPGs being run here and there, tons of card games (including, of course, Magic the Gathering), tons of board games, and we were the official DC-area convention for Munchkin. We had special events, a LARP, dungeon delves I wrote based on classic 1e adventures, and live music on Saturday night for one of the cons. Our slots were staggered so that slots didn’t start every four hours but rather every two hours. If you wanted to sleep in a bit, you could. You’d just start playing at 11 am instead of 9 am, but there were enough 2-hour slots of other things to do that you could still get three slots of gaming in.
It wasn’t run in a convention center, nor in the basement of a mediocre hotel, but rather in a really nice “hotel and executive meeting center” right across the street from a Metro (subway) stop in Rockville, Maryland. As the county seat for Montgomery County, there were tons of restaurants, et al. in the area, including a gaming store down the street. Of course, we had a gaming store as our in-convention vendor both years, and we generated about 200 attendees both years. Our attendees represented everywhere in the United States east of the Mississippi (e.g., Florida, Georgia, and Ohio), but we gave an award to a guy named Matt for having come the farthest for the con (Alaska).
We had tremendous support from volunteers that helped organize the detail while Vic and I focused on the big picture, and we’re forever indebted to those friends, but I’ll be damned if my feet weren’t atrociously sore by the end of both cons.
Seriously, it was stupendous, and everyone that attended and commented on it said so.
A Slight Diversion Before My Point
I’ve been thinking of doing something other than a Vegas blackjack trip for my fall vacation – I say this every year, so we’ll see if I follow through – and was considering an RPG gaming convention instead. Because I wanted to play 1e, I was initially thinking about GaryCon, but a friend pushed me towards GameholeCon. It was an easy sell because the timing would be better. GaryCon would interfere with Winter Fantasy, but GameholeCon would slide right into the Vegas slot (again, pun absolutely intended). The trouble is that Winter Fantasy and synDCon have spoiled me. I have no intention of going to a convention and paying between $100 and $200 per night for my hotel room if I’m staying at least 2 miles from the convention. That’s ridiculous. It’s like GenCon on a smaller scale. The city is obviously not big enough to handle the convention. So, I decided to look into other options.
There Aren’t Any
Sadly, I went through all my options I could find online, and nothing quite matches the magic of Winter Fantasy or synDCon as far as I can tell. The lists were not complete – Winter Fantasy wasn’t even mentioned (?!) – so maybe there are some other cons out there, but I can’t find them. The cons are at least one of the following: in an inconvenient or excessively crowded location, lack inexpensive parking, or focused on only a few things (usually the shiny new things of the day). Some are also not “cozy,” which I define as between 200 and 350 people. It’s large enough that there can be plenty to do, and you can meet new people, but small enough that you’ll always be able to find your friends and hang out with them. Winter Fantasy doesn’t even satisfy all of these characteristics perfectly – I tried to run 1e but only one ticket for only one slot of three was sold – but it’s as close to perfect as I think practical for a cozy con. It’s also in Ft. Wayne, Indiana. I’m fine going out there, and I will every year they’ll have me, but I find it odd that an area with as big a gaming community as DC doesn’t have something like this.
And this is my point. DC needs a convention like synDCon or Winter Fantasy. Such a con isn’t going to hit the radar scope of the big players (i.e., Wizards of the Coast and Paizo), but it’ll appeal to plenty of players. The DC area is filled with them. Our Gamers’ Syndicate gaming club had over 200 people that identified as members, and we ran game days every single weekend in as many as five gaming stores at a time. While organizing synDCon, I learned of several other groups just as large that had never even heard of us. They were organizing at other stores. This area has an abundance of gamers, and I suspect there are even more here over 10 years later.
Will There Be a synDCon III?
That’s the magic question. I’m happy to organize it, but as we discussed at the game session, my demands are high. First off, I want to do it right or not do it at all. I’m not willing to put together a con in “the basement of the Best Western.” No offense to the chain in general, but that happens to be a hotel we visited that would be the site of a con not worth having. It was downright gross but not unlike venues of cons I’ve attended in the early 2000s. No thanks. Second, having learned from my experiences with the first two, the only way I’d do it is if I had a number of additional owners willing to slap down cashier’s checks for at least $2,000 each (or more depending on how many people commit) and having signed an operating agreement that prevents them from every cashing out that initial investment. That is, I need a sizeable stable of people willing to commit whole-heartedly so that I know I’ll have both the funds and the work ethic necessary to make this doable. Trust me when I say that it’s not enough that someone throw money at me. I need to know that they’re committed to doing the work necessary to pull off a great con. Because it’s been over 10 years, I don’t know what the minimum acceptable number of owners would be, especially without knowing exactly how much each would be willing to contribute up front, but I do know $2,000 is enough to motivate most gamers to stay the course and do what they could not to throw that money away. Any of them willing to drop $2,000 are likely to take it seriously.
Another thing I remember is that no one wanted to be the guy, the “convention coordinator” or CEO who had to make the calls when weird situations arose. While I’m happy to be that guy, I’m not willing to be the one that puts out the feelers (beyond this post, I guess) and see if there’s interest. If I thought my odds were better than 50% of finding such interest, I would, but I don’t think there are enough people willing to make this kind of commitment, so why bother trying? I did my part for king and country, and wound up with a small, overworked group. If this is meant to be, then someone else will have to get the ball rolling. So, while I’m not the one destined to put this together, I strongly suspect there’s a market for it, and my recent thoughts and conversations on the matter sure leave me wishing someone would.
If that’s you, drop me an email when you think you’ve got something real.
Play What You Want 