Mattherobot

So, I'm back from Games Day. Pretty much exactly what I expected, as far as the turnout goes. Of course, there's always going to be some psychotics there, including such interesting and colourful characters like:

• Creepy Old Man: Characterized by massive beard and scraggly hair, communicates only in disturbing grunts.
• 10 Year Old Kid: Known for their incredible ability to annoy all through irritating voices and hyperactivity.
• Generic Baseball Cap Guy: Fairly normal — nearly always wears a baseball cap, for some reason…

However, you also get some cool people. The volunteers for the most part were cool, and we had a couple jokes at the expense of the aforementioned stereotypes. Anyway, I got some pictures, so without further ado, here is the:

GAMES DAY CANADA 2006 PICTURE DIARY!!! EXTRAVAGANZA!!!

8:30 A.M.: I wake up to the sounds of "Livin' On A Prayer" by Bon Jovi. Bad choice. Cursing my two and a half hours of sleep, I groggily roll out of bed, wondering if it would be worth it. After calling Murphy, I consume a plain bagel, then while away the minutes in a half-awake zombie state.

9:30 A.M.: Murphy shows up and we drive to the bus station, jumping on the 9:40 bus. Some guy sits in the seat in front of us, and over the ride to Toronto, proceeds to recount the entirety of his life story to a Middle Eastern woman sitting across the eisle from him. "Why are there always maniacs on the GO Bus?" I ask. Some things, we shall never know.

10:40 A.M.: We arrive in Toronto — the guy's story ends with something about how his relatives want to make a movie. Interesting stuff. Now…where is the Convention Centre? After some shenanigans, we find it and enter. "Huh, this looks a bit odd." Murphy says, noticing the empty floor. Our questions are simultaneously answered and silenced by a deafening roar from upstairs. We give our tickets to the door guy and take the escalator up to the show floor.

10:50 A.M.: Wow, finally here. Looks smaller than the last time I was here though. There's also an unsettling empty space in the middle of the hall, which we cautiously skitter across, wary of those wearing plate armour and brandishing greatswords. At least these aren't fans — they're hired professionals, the kind you see at a local renaissance fair, no doubt extolling the virtues of the feudal system. Now, what to do? Where to go? Naturally, I gravitate towards the possibility of free stuff. To the bits covered tables!

This must be the promised land! We hit the motherlode.

11:15 A.M.: Well, it's not the mother lode. It's Mad Grox, and EVERY SPOT on the list is full, for the entire day. After trying to weasel my way into a session of building the most fantastic deathmachine I could imagine, I give up. Murphy wants to see the Golden Demons, so we head over.

11:30 A.M.: Why hello there Golden Demon entries. What's that, you want me to take pictures of you? Lots and lots of pictures? Well okay, but I'll have to ask my camera first!

Camera.

Does not.

Agree.

11:45 A.M.: After gawking at the entries in the Best Base contest, we take in a demonstration by the medieval fighter guys. It's midly amusing, and by that I mean painfully bad. After the Black Knight manages to get himself kicked in the groin and beaten not once, but TWICE, we head over to the 40k huge battle. It seems to span eight or so tables, with every army…ever fighting it out. We decide not to try our hand, but I do get some good pictures of the new plastic building kits painted up.

New rule: anyone wearing the Spider-Man shirt loses the game. That means you, Spider-Man guy.

Gaunts are hungry, like us!

Tower. With pipe.

GIANT SPACE SHOE COMMANDS YOU TO KILL.

There are two armpits in this picture, but no faces.

"Dude, you totally missed and hit that clock tower." "I did not." "Dude, that is a giant gear. Those things aren't supposed to be on the outside. You broke it, dude. The Emperor is going to be so pissed."

And if you look on your right, you'll see Teh Win Bored.

"Do not shoot that barrel. Don't shoot it. Don'tshootitdon'tshootitdon-" *boom*

This is a crazy robot orgy. I kid you not.

"So, why are we in the middle of this field? Seems a bit silly." "Shut it Johnson, and don't touch those random number generator cubes. This is war, damnit."

12:00 P.M.: Getting back into line in case somebody doesn't show up for Mad Grox, I meet a fellow who's in a similar predicament as me. Murphy disappears off the to the store, and I can only imagine what manner of horrors he is perusing. Soon, my new compatriot and I decide that discretion is the better part of valour. There's a Warhammer Fantasy version of Mad Grox called Ascension to Power, where you build a single model instead of a vehicle. We head over, and it turns out that five people don't show. To get in, we have to answer trivia. The first question: "Who is the god of Blood Bowl?" (Something like that.) I hesitate, but realize the truth. "That's a trick question! Nobody plays Blood Bowl!" Amused, the volunteer lets me in. My new buddy gets in on the question: "Who originally made Titan models?" I tell him the answer: Armorcast. I don't know why I know that.

12:15 P.M.: Ascension to Power begins! I rummage through sprues, tacking together something that resembles a knight with knives for arms and a lizard head. Our volunteer walks across the table, crunching up pieces and periodically rousing the group into a "WAAAGH!" call, which I feebly attempt. Halfway through, we are ordered to switch with the person to our left. Fortuitously for me, I come into possession of an flamethrower piece, which the guy next to me claimed by being the first to crawl under a table. Under-table guy proceeds to repeatedly show me his model, despite my glare which says "I don't care, I don't care, I don't care, one more time and I'll stab you." In a work that can only be described as staggering genius, I create my masterpiece.

I call it: Lizardman Riding A Dwarf, With Heavy Flamer.

12:35 P.M.: The battle is go, now! It's kind of like King of the Hill, only with hideous monsters. Also, mine has a flamethrower strapped on it. Most people make a mad dash for the centre, and tear each other apart. My closest foe is attacked by "Donkey", while "Shrek" watches on. My sniping proves ineffective, so I move towards the middle — there are only two others left. The nearest enemy charges me. He's weak from fighting the others, but he also has all of their cards that are randomly distributed at the beginning of the game, giving bonuses to abilities. I only need to get one hit in, he needs three. Guess who wins. Anyway, I walk away from Ascension to Power in second place, my model jammed firmly into my bag, we go for lunch.

1:00 P.M.: We wander out of the hall, into the scorching daylight. Murphy puts on his sunglasses and I envy his eyes, unburnt by the sun's uncaring rays and unfettered by the weight of a nearly sleepless night. We find a Mr. Sub and comment on the different types of people at the show, how bad the goblin costumes are, and how other people should have came. Oh well.

1:30 P.M.: Crossing Front St. again, we head back into the hall. I pick up a poster for Warhammer Online from the door guy. More like World of Warhammer. Online. Craft. Murphy agrees that Penny Arcade is an amazing webcomic. As we ride the escalator up once more, we hear the unmistakable sound of an Englishman speaking over the PA. It's Phil Kelly!

And what a strapping young lad he is. Kelly answers questions from the normal to the reprehensibly bizarre. The questions remind me of the Simpsons episode where Xena is answering questions from fans. In any case where something doesn't seem to make sense, just assume a wizard did it. It looks like he's doing a good enough job though, as he's keeping the swarthier fans from rushing the stage.

I LUV U PHIL! He also talked about some new models coming out. One of them was this:

It looks like a Raithlord. Raithlord? lol wtf it's Wraithlord tehy cant spell in angland!!! Oh wait, that was just my camera, it cut off the W. That was silly of me, wasn't it? Anyway, we've had our fill of Phil, and he's done talking, so that's that.

1:45 P.M.: So, we decide to check out this game called Gothic, you might have heard of it. It's like space combat, in space. With lasers, and ships, and torpedoes, and other things that explode. Looks fun. Too bad we don't get to try it, since we lack the attention span to stay at the table for longer than fifteen minutes.

"I call the Death Star!" "Man, this isn't Star Wars. There is no Death Star. It's called the Planet Killer in this." "Whatever, I call that. Hoth can eat my ass."

2:00 P.M.: Golden Demon, Round 2! I make the proper sacrifices to the Kodak Corporation and my camera obeys my will once more.

Staff models, I think. Nice bases, either way.

Holy guacamole, that is nice!

There are TWO of these models entered in the competition. Those things are from Forge World, which means they cost about $300 dollars. That is a lot of money for a piece of resin, no matter how big or killy it may be. At least this one is painted nicely.

Another cool model. The guy approaches us from behind, saying something about carving stone…Murphy and I discuss later if the entire thing was, or just the base, or if the guy was like, a lunatic or something. I'm going for the last option, but that tends to be my default.

2:20 P.M.: We happen upon a cool little table run by some guys who call it "Target Practice." You see, some sporting gentleman have rounded up dozens of Goblins and placed them in the centre of a large crater. The task, then, is to be the first to slay twenty of them. The weapon of choice? Mortars at dawn, of course. So basically, it's a distance guessing competition. Then luck factors in, since shots can scatter. If you can kill the commander or flag bearer, you get a lot of points. That is good.

"Hey guys, what's up?" "Not much, chilling in this eerily open plain, how about you?" "Same."

"Oh hell no! What the hell was that?!" "They killed Steve, those bastards! Run away!"

So yeah, eventually in a stroke of brilliant targeting (the dice had nothing to do with it, I insist) I caught the commander AND his flag waving crony in a single blast, obliterating them and winning the game. Hurray, I am the greatest.

2:40 P.M.: The day is winding down. We decide to hit the stores, and see if there's anything worth getting. Murphy ends up picking up a Games Day shirt, which confused me until I took a proper look at it. No pictures, so you'll have to imagine it. A shirt that confused me — imagine that, right now.

3:00 P.M.: We decide to leave. Everything to be seen has been seen, and despite our best efforts we are unable to snag free bits as the staff close up the tables covered in them. Our Games Day adventure is over for this year, but there are sure might be more in the future! As we leave, what better way to end than with a picture of an actual Space Marine, from space!

The waterbottle is there for scale. That was intentional.

So there you have it, that was our Games Day. Hope you liked the pictures and my comments. Luckily there were no crazies on the bus ride home. Now I'm off, I'll catch you dudes on the flip side!