Want to rule the world?

GM at Scarefest and you can! In the world of your story, you are the ultimate ruler and the fate of the PCs hangs on your whims (and whatever rule system/random number generation your system employs). If you have a game you love to run, it's not too late to sign up!
Or, alternatively...

Be a Minionette!

Storytelling not your thing, but want to help out at Scarefest? Sign up to be a Minionette for a slot! It's a low effort, low stress way to contribute (and you get 1/3 off your ticket for every slot you volunteer!).

Don't Be Left Out In The Cold.

Did you know you can come to Scarefest and never have to leave (for 3 days)? Lodging and meal tickets are available, so that you can be there for every second of the experience...

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").
So...the thing about Incredibly Powerful Beings like The Overlord and The Goblin King is that none of them seem to feel the need to fuss with such mundane items as deeds or contracts of sale or suchlike (apparently, that's just for us mere mortals, who get to do it in triplicate to make up for their laissez fare attitude). After an extensive and nerve-shattering staredown, The Overlord pronounced that this was, in fact, Its land. More staring. We Minions eventually starting sharing empathetic eyerolls with the bugpeople. The earth waited.

None of us Minions have ever been allowed in the History Room deep under the compound, but apparently if we had we would know that many years ago The Overlord received the land upon which the compound now sits as a thank you gift from a Appalachian farmer whose farm had become overrun with Petulant Passive-Aggressive Poltergeist (which, apparently, are a type of spirit which likes to not so much throw things around as delicately and conveniently reposition them to remind you of your failings when you're already having a really bad day), from which The Overlord was able to cleanse it. The farmer was so relieved, in fact, that he threw in a Haunted Bunker in his Gift of Gratitude (which may or may not have been where The Overlord imprisoned the PPAPs)...which essentially became the foundation of the compound. A fact we were delighted to learn.

The Goblin King, on the other hand, claims the he has rights to the land because his very blood runs with its rivers, his bones are made of its stones...and furthermore he made a deal with a shaman back in 1782. The details of this arrangement are unclear to us, but apparently it had something to do with The Goblin King extricating the shaman from a rather tricky situation with something called a Seething Court and a whole lot of what we gather was recreational pot being grown without proper ties. Or tights. At any rate, The Goblin King definitely referred to someone being stoned.

After many hours of long silences filled with thunderous pronouncements and intense eye contact...Minion #4 decided to go inside and make tea, because, honestly, we were all starting to get a bit of a headache. We set up a picnic on the sidelines, and after some longing looks, the bravest of the bugpeople drifted over to join us. They even brought cakes.

Eventually we got tired, and laid down on the dewy grass, surrounded by the Baby Miniature Dire Goats and their quiet squawking, the faint tinkle of accordion music from the Clown Encampment, and a new, mysterious twinkling light blinking on and off among the trees.

The Overlord and The Goblin King are still staring.

Obviously, everything is going to be fine.
facebook twitter website