Sharing Here Be Monsters with friends and family over the past few years has always been exciting. It’s especially exciting because, deep down, I know that even if they thought the game was a flaming pile of garbage, they’d still tell me that it was awesome. After all, grandma still has to sit next to me at Thanksgiving, and things would get awkward if she read me the riot act about how my game design philosophy is a big stinking turd.
Strangers, on the other hand, aren’t bound by the same social contract. That was why, when we took Here Be Monsters to PAX East this March, with the intent of showing it to strangers for the first time, I had a Cannon Bully-sized lump in my throat. I fully prepared myself for the possibility that someone would sit down at our table, play a few hands, then stand up and spit in my face for wasting their time. Then, they would take to Twitter and tell everyone to avoid our game, then tell their parents who work at Hasbro to blacklist us from every potential game store ever. Clearly, the stakes were high.
PAX East is an incredibly prestigious gaming convention (conveniently held in the most prestigious city in the world, Boston (Carson, don’t edit that out)). It’s a four day conference filled with panels, exhibitions, and all manner of gaming enthusiasts. Although we didn't get our own booth this year, we coordinated with the good folks at Unpub (check them out) to get a table with them to showcase our game. It would be the first time that people outside of Carson’s or my immediate circle would be setting sail on the Monster Coast.
Naturally, I spent our entire setup period sweating profusely over all of our materials, half praying that nobody would show up. When we got our first two players, I felt immediate sympathy for every ostrich that’s ever buried its head in the sand. I was ready to let Carson do all the talking, but two more people showed up which meant it was all hands on deck. I gave the players their cards, explained the rules, and readied myself for a hurricane of hate and spit.
To my surprise, things went well. The players asked some clarifying questions, we talked about card games, and pointed out our favorite booths at PAX. Everyone was smiling. It was hard to believe, but they were actually enjoying themselves. I didn’t want to count my chickens before they hatched, though. At the end of the game, surely that was when they would start spitting. Or, at least, they would just try to get themselves out of the situation as quickly and politely as possible. Or they would start spitting.
After the game, though, something truly incredible happened. They asked if they could play a second game. I was beside myself. Unlike grandma, they were under no social contract to pretend to like the game. They certainly didn’t need to inflate my spirits by asking to play a second game. And yet, with their only remaining day left at PAX, they wanted to spend their precious time not walking the floor or sampling AAA products, but by playing our little pirate game. I’m not kidding when I say that I was happier than I was when my own child was born (note for the editor, delete that part if I happen to have a child before this gets posted).
After that, the floodgates opened up. Over our two days of showcasing Here Be Monsters at the Unpub section, we hardly had a free minute. New players and spectators came to our table like Moths-from-the-Unknown-Sea to a flame (you'll learn about him soon enough). It was an incredible experience to talk to all sorts of people about their experience at PAX, their favorite games, and, of course, pirates. Not only was it amazingly fun to play our game with new people, but it was extremely helpful to collect so much insight into how people saw the game with fresh eyes. In truth, it was a dizzying amount of information, but it was helpful nonetheless. There were some consistent compliments, consistent complaints, and consistent conclusions.
The most consistent conversation, though, as well as the most consistently fun conversation, was the conversation that revolved around Here Be Monster’s artwork. I’m obviously biased, but it’s the best art that anyone has ever done ever, and every other game is an eyesore in comparison. Not really, but, well, yeah, kinda. But to finally be able to show Carson’s art off to the world, to see everyone gawk and stare at all of the beautiful and fun pirates, it was nothing short of magical. Especially after telling everyone that every single iota of artwork was done using Apple Keynote (the Mac equivalent of Powerpoint). That’s a topic for another day, but if I’m left with any enduring memory of PAX, it will be of sweeping everyone’s jaw off the floor after showing them the pirate-card-game-equivalent of painting the Sistine Chapel with a broken monkey wrench.
It was a magical weekend. It was fun, it was exciting, and it validated all of the time and effort that Carson and I (mostly Carson, and I’ll die on that hill) have spent over the past three years building HBM from the ground up. I know we didn’t have our own booth, but it still felt pretty incredible to be showcasing our game at one of the world’s premiere gaming conventions. If nothing else, it whet our appetite to keep on keeping on. Hopefully, it will be the first of many conventions where we can bring people the joy of high seas adventure. Maybe at PAX East 2025 you’ll see us on the main stage.
