Concrete Cow

I had a REAL dilemma about Concrete Cow this year. Y'see there was a new game convention called Convergence at Stockport this year - and it was a whole weekend convention running Friday to Sunday. And on the very same weekend as Concrete Cow.

I'm very familiar with the journey to Stockport - travelling there twice per year to go to StabCon - and the potential of a whole weekend's gaming was very tempting. But in the end loyalty won out. (Well, if I'm honest, it was more a case of a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. I know what I'm getting with The Cow.  Convergence would have been a punt in the dark.)

And yes, everything ran exactly as normal. I even bumped into Pookie on my way down. This make at least four times on the trot I've met him on the train from Birmingham to Wolverton - the suburb outside Milton Keynes where Concrete Cow takes place.  And our last journey together was where Spaghetti ConJunction - our own convention - was gestated.  As always, we had a great chat on the way down.

The convention is a short walk from the station. It takes place in a community centre next to a big Tesco's and opposite a row of convenience and food outlets. It's really a great setting for a convention. As usual it was a case of getting in, paying a fiver for entry, paying an extra fiver for five raffle tickets (optional), grabbing a lottery ticket, writing your name on a sticker and sticking it on your shirt, so everyone knows who you are. It was cheering to see that the convention appears to have an entirely distaff organisation now. As a referee I had a Golden Ticket forced on me, giving priority a priority signup if I wanted it. However, as I was offering a game in both the slots I was staying for, there was no way I could make use of it.

I dropped the signup sheet for my morning game on the table. There was already a hand-written signup sheet for it there. This is an innovation. Concrete Cow has never prepared signup sheets for you before. It's a nice touch but I think a bit of an act of faith. Someone might offer a game and then not be able to turn up to run it at the last minute. I don't think we'll be adopting this change for Spaghetti ConJunction. I also saw a booklet with all the pre-advertised games in it. I don't know if this was an official convention product or just something someone had printed from the website for their own reference. I'm not sure how useful it was because there seemed to be more games on offer than were advertised - so I guess that, as usual, some were offered at the last minute.

(My favourite was the one that simply said - Game: Monsters of the Week, System: Monster of the week.)

Sign-ups were the usual smooth, fair, patented Concrete Cow system. Golden tickets and newbies sign up first. Then numbers from 1 to 10 were generated randomly and people with lottery tickets ending in those numbers came up in turn. The list was retained to be reversed for afternoon signups. If you're first in the morning, you're last in the afternoon.

At the end of the signups, some games had no players. My game and the game of another Referee only had two signups apiece. We were asked if we were happy to run with two players. The other Referee deferred but, following advice from the UK Roleplayers forum, I said I was happy to run for two players. The other referee kindly signed up for my game - giving me three players.

This was my "Kong Island Raiders" game using my Anime rules. (Currently on Kickstarter.  https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/886565487/the-code-of-shojo-and-shonen.) Two of the three players wanted to roll randomly for characters. We ended up with a Wiry mercenary with the ability to shrug off pain who was signed on as bodyguard for a modest doctor with a cybernetic arm (on an anthropological expedition) and a fading pop star (whose voice could shatter glass and be used to attack as well as charm) who was heading to the island to film a promo video. Can you tell which one WASN'T randomly rolled?

The game went well. Being hypercritical it was good but it wasn't magic. The players were extremely sensible and tried to retreat with their honour intact several times, requiring me to turn them back towards the island each time. The reasons were logical, but it became a bit like The Prisoner trying to escape from the village. Also they went through all the tropes of the various genres I was mashing up in turn and I think it was bit predictable. I could have introduced something from left field to mix things up. And I will next time I run it. But the spiralling complications of the combats as the characters developed through their Superheroic forms, to their mechs up to the final merged mech worked well. I'm happy with the system. It starts off with combat totals in the 20's and, by the end, we were working in totals of several hundred. I think we even hit a score of a thousand at one point. Possibly because there were only three players, but probably because of their unlucky die rolls, they had to cheat to win (it's allowed in the rules but has consequences). But, hey, causing a volcanic eruption and sinking the whole bloody island is a pretty good climax to this sort of adventure, eh?

The morning session was interrupted by an errant fire bell. I was struck by how swiftly  and correctly the entire assemblage responded. I guess most of us are used to actually running fire drills in our day jobs. The on-site caretaker was also very quick off the mark and we'd barely vacated the premises when we were all allowed back in. No probs. But not a nice experience for the new management of the convention and my "this didn't happen under Neil" joke - whilst apposite - may have been a bit misjudged, sorry!

I dropped my signup sheet for my afternoon game (Blakes Seven) on the table and, for lunch, I popped next door to the Costa Coffee in Tesco for a cheese and ham toastie. When I got back, I checked out the raffle prizes - the usual great crop but nothing leapt out at me personally.

Afternoon signups duly occurred. My game got no signups, but there was one space left in Phil Master's DiscWorld game. A scenario I hadn't played before. So it was a no-brainer. As usual, you get exactly what you expect with a Phil Master's DiscWorld game. Thoroughly well prepared pregens, a scenario which could have been in one of the novels, players who know the canon, every one desperate to emulate it, and quirky humour throughout that, somehow, never gets gonzo. Watching closely, I think it's about how Phil applies subtle brakes whenever things seem to be getting slightly out of control.

I can't talk much about the scenario but let's just say that Vampires and Dwarves have very different opinions about how to modernise the dungeon business. Lots of RPG in-jokes. If you have the opportunity to play this scenario, I recommend it. And you might. Phil, like myself, is a referee who believes in re-offering his good convention scenarios several times to give lots of people a chance to play them.

The game was played in a room downstairs, the first time I'd been down there in all my years of attending Concrete Cow. Nothing much to say except, like the rest of the venue, it was perfect for Roleplaying.

I'd already decided not to stay for the evening session this time. I needed to be back in Birmingham on Sunday. I again bumped into Pookie and he said there was a train leaving in a couple of minutes, so we threw our raffle tickets at Neil and rushed to the station. As it happened, we just missed the train. But we ran into James Mullen. Fate had thrown the Spaghetti ConJunction organising committee together. They chose to wait for a direct train, but I opted to to change at Milton Keynes to get into Birmingham a bit quicker.

Concrete Cow delivered as it always does. A very pleasant day of gaming. There are too many games offered for the number of players so some great games don't run. (And I'm not just taking about my games here.) The venue could cope with another couple of dozen players. I keep telling everyone that the two Concrete Cows are essential dates on the convention calendar and I can't understand why it isn't heaving. My best guess is that some people can't be bothered to travel for a one day convention. This is a crying shame. Concrete Cow always delivers.