One one thousand, two one thousand, three....

Don't worry: closing your eyes and breathing slowly is definitely not going to make us disappear. We're turning five this year, and we're dragging you down with us!
Er...which is to have bought your ticket already, haven't you?
Eyes on Hands Monster
Be A Part of the Madness

Storytellers Needed!

You, yes you, could step up to lead a table through the horrifying and labyrinthine corridors of your mind (or, like, the mind of whoever wrote your game). Scarefest utterly depends on the skills and generosity of storytellers like you, and in exchange you get ticket discounts (maybe even a free ticket!) and more.
Why GM for us?

Be A Minionette!

Want to contribute, but running games not your style? Everyone loves a Minionette, and you just have to sit at a desk for a slot (mostly). Plus you get ticket discounts for Minionetting. And you get to wear a capelet! It's amazing!

Little Red Riding Hood has a surprise butcher knife!

Sharing matters to us

Please tell all your friends so they will come play with us!
It's not a cult! Promise!
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Assembly Inn exterior

Which lodging?

Want to understand the difference between staying at Assembly Inn or the Winsborough Lodge? We got you:

Find out more >

Abettors needed

We're always in need of item donations to hand out as prizes to all our wonderful attendees, and we're good at saying thank you!
Find out more >

Or, share what you know

At this year's Sunday morning Goblin Market, we're hoping to have a number of demos of new games and geeky crafting. Want to show off?
Let us know >

Minion Corner

Welcome to our ongoing section, Minion Corner, where we Minions get to tell you a little about our lives and what goes on outside the spotlight (Minion #22 has been taking a psychology course and says it will be "cathartic").
A naked young Dryad on edge of forest at night. Scary picture on Halloween. Watercolour and digital hand drawn image. Mixed media artwork.
We are told that it is 2019 and another year has passed and this year will be different. Saner. Safer. With less paperwork. But thus far, we have no reason to believe this to be true.

Over the winter, we slept, mostly. Since no Minion had been able to sleep from July through October, the yearly hibernation was a welcome interlude. A couple of months ago, however, we were in for a rude awakening.

Minion #14 was the first to awaken, probably due to her extra-sensitive hearing (wings like a bat, ears like a bat, I always say). As she woke the rest of us, we quickly became aware that the entire compound was shaking. Needless to say, our first thought was that the Yeti needed another flea bath, but then we checked the calendar and it was only March 20--too early for flea season. A careful creep around the compound quickly made it clear that not only could the Yeti not be found, but the source of the shaking was outside the building.

We waited an eternity for meaning, for rescue...but none came. Finally, after about 15 minutes, Minion #4 was chosen to peek outside. With great timidity he eased open the door the tiniest of cracks...and was immediately enswarmed by a mass of flashing, chittering things with frantically flapping grey wings. Minion #4 began to howl unintelligably, while the rest of us ran for the flamethrower cabinet (or rather, as Minion #13 retrieved the flamethrower from the cabinet and the rest of us fought to squeeze inside it). As Minion #13 turned in slow motion majesty, pointing the business end of an ancient and extremely unsafe incendiary device at our coworker and the plague of biting, pinching somethings surrounding him...

A dark shape swept between them, and with a single sweep of Its hands, The Overlord cleared the creatures from the room. Even from the back, we could tell its eyes burned with a righteous fury at the audacity that something, anything would believe it was powerful enough to attack a Minion under Its watch and live. Peeking under the wings of Its cloak, we saw the swarm had retreated to form a wall of tiny, grey-skinned humanoids with large, dead eyes, pointed ears, and the aforementioned wings, which created an ominous buzzing as they hovered in place. The compound's shaking had stopped. Stepping toward the creatures (which totally flinched), The Overlord cried out in its most dramatic voice,

"Who dares interrupt our slumber?"

And from the darkness and the mist behind the bugpeople wall, a mysterious form stepped forth. His blackened skin seemed to writhe upon his bones and gleamed and glittered in the pale moonlight. His limbs were humanoid, yet strangely distorted, seeming much like the twisting branches of trees or vines, gnarled and misshapen. But his head was held high, and like the bugpeople he was possessed of large, slanting, alien eyes, which gazed on The Overlord with a cool arrogance under an arching crown of antlers. The bugpeople parted to make an archway for their leader to step forward, and as he did so he answered,

"You are on the land of the Goblin King."