This year’s Cauldron Con was hit by the winds of change. Not only did the event move from the beautiful but cold Schloss Hohenroda to the cozy and rustic Hofraithe Park in Rosenthal, but it was also only three days long instead of four. What’s most important is the con’s spirit, though, which remained the same: it was all about celebrating the various iterations of old-school Dungeons & Dragons. And of course Chainmail! You can’t have Cauldron Con without a huge table with green cloth and dozens of miniatures on it, waiting in neatly ordered lines for their demise.

The Magyar horde contained Chomy, Premier, Melan, and myself, as usual. We left early in the morning on the 16th of October by car, and arrived late afternoon in Neubiberg, where Iudex joined our numbers. True to form, our expatriate friend had reserved a table in one of the local restaurants — Ratskeller München this time. While neither did I eat as much, nor drank as much as last year, the starters and the Sauerbraten were enough to make sure I didn’t sleep well that night. I hoped next day I will go to bed in time. Never before have I’ve been so wrong…

October 17, Friday

Iudex rented a bigger car so we could continue our journey in comfort.¹ Midway, we took a pilgrimage to the picturesque Rothenburg ob der Tauber to see the Plönlein, a little square familiar to fans of City State of the Invincible Overlord and Monkey Island.

We arrived in Rosenthal just in time to catch the end of the opening. Since we were the last in line, we were in the perfect position to sign up for the first game before anyone else. We stormed Jonathan Becker’s Silver Temple of Transcendent Flame session.

Our party of villains, led by an anti-paladin played by Iudex, entered a temple of good to deal with a celestial child. It was a rollercoaster. We started out smart, dispatching the monks and couatl guarding the entrance with ease, but later, one of our assassins alerted the guards while checking the doors in the main hall. We killed all except one, who fled the scene. While others were pursuing the guard, my cleric guarded our necromancer, who animated the corpses left behind.

Needless to say, we never caught the guard. Later, we got a fireball in our faces while climbing a ladder, killing our necromancer and his zombies. The next wave that climbed up got a lightning bolt. Somehow, we prevailed in the end, though, and killed the wizard and the silver dragon responsible for murdering our comrades, but our losses by that time were severe. It was time to play smart again.

First, I animated the dead, including our fallen necromancer. Then our assassin disguised himself as a wounded monk and barged into the room of the Twilight Princess while my zombies chased him. The deception worked well; within a few moments, the Twilight Princess was strangled by our assassin-in-monk’s-clothing while the rest of us killed her bodyguards. In the end, we found the child, but lacking the +3 weapons needed to hurt them, we decided to kidnap them. Our adventure served as the background for Saturday’s Caul’s Dark Citadel, by the way.

I didn’t play anything else that day. Instead, Chomy and I spent the night networking. This involved copious amounts of pálinka, which was enough to make sure that I didn’t sleep well that night.

October 18, Saturday

The next morning, I felt useless thanks to my hangover. Since we were planning to take on the tournament module in the afternoon, I decided to spend the morning getting my shit together instead of playing. Once I felt better, I joined Terrible Sorcery’s table, who was running Gilded Dream of the Incandescent Queen. I only played for an hour or so, but it was enough to regret not joining sooner, for the adventure had some really memorable encounters, and Terrible Sorcery did a damn fine job running it.

By the afternoon, I was a whole man again and hyped. Last year we were runner-ups for the Blackrazor Cup. This year we wanted to win. We joined Philipp’s table to take on Rivers of Blood, Death, and Glory. The adventure was about exploring the riverside cliff fortress of a dead lich before the blizzard arrived. The owner had been sleeping under the waves; the village at the entrance was empty — what could go wrong? As it turned out, everything…

After the cautious initial exploration, we found a cave high up in the cliffside with frozen corpses. It must be a white dragon’s lair! And dragons mean treasure… We took a glance at our levels and the narrow tunnel within the cave and came to the conclusion that it must be a younger white dragon — something we could take down without meaningful losses. Nevertheless, some caution never hurts, so we sent our thief to scout ahead.

Never underestimate the assholery of Becker. Our thief triggered a fucking Magic Mouth, which alerted the ancient (!) dragon living there, along with her three (!) hatchlings. We got our spells ready, got invisible, hugged the walls, and waited for the dragon to surface. Alas, old dragons see through invisibility, and this particular motherfucker also won initiative, so most of our party was killed in the first round by 56 points of cold breath. The warrior fought for a few rounds before succumbing to their claws and bites, while one managed to escape.

We pulled in the remaining two pregens and looked for a safer entrance… We killed some yetis, pried some gems from a frozen throne, and woke up a specter hiding in a corpse, who killed one of our ranks. In the end, two of us survived with barely any loot. As it turned out later, it could have been worse, because one of the parties TPKed.

Following dinner, I had some chit-chat with Prince of Nothing, Terrible Sorcery, and Becker. The latter gent outdid our pálinkas this year by bringing in a brutally strong yet delightfully delicious whiskey. When I thought the mood couldn’t get better, the auction started.² The first few bids were pretty humble. The turning point was when Terrible “Hell Yeah!” Sorcery bid a hundred euros on the original Silvash illustration from Cloister of the Frog God. Beyond that point, money guns went brrr. There was an OD&D box with Holmes dice that was sold for 750 euros. Chomy won a huge box of Mystara stuff for 500 euros.³ It was a night of cheers, friendly competition, and lots of congratulations. After the auction, I went back to our quarters and slept really well — except when I woke up to the symphony of snores, farts, and coughs, reminding me of my college years.

October 19, Sunday

Failing the tournament left a sour taste in our mouths, so after we packed our shit and sat through the closing ceremony, we rushed to Prince of Nothing’s table, who was running a tournamentesque Assault on the Beckerdrome — both a celebration and a parody of Becker’s work. After entering the object and getting the early info dump, we could choose between three doors: Hard, Turbo-Hard, and Hell. We hesitated a bit because last afternoon’s tragedy was still fresh, but in the end, we said “fuck it” and chose Hell difficulty.

The first hellish challenge was a lava lake with fire-resistant mummies waiting on one platform and a pile of treasure guarded by salamanders on the other. We did our best to keep our opponents distracted while the invisible thief packed as much treasure away as possible. No matter how cautious we were, we lost our tenacious fighter, who fell into the lava but almost climbed out of it. On the other hand, we gained a valuable ally by charming a salamander.

We arrived in a gray canyon full of rust monsters, who got fireballed — which woke up some fifty vargouilles. The first time, we hid in a cave, and the salamander tanked them before they gave up. The second time, we used invisibility and hiding to avoid them. We found some loot in the sarcophagi lining the canyon walls but also woke up a specter that drained our poor salamander — and a ghost too.

During the next challenge, we had to say goodbye to our faithful salamander. Six goetic demons threatened to unleash terrible curses upon us unless we turned back or sacrificed one of us. The poor sod failed his saving throw and was convinced he’d go home. Then we were dropped into a labyrinth of utter darkness, invisible walls, and slithering monsters all around. Most of the party remained at the labyrinth’s entrance, holding a lantern as a beacon. Our elf fighter/thief-magic-user flew over the walls while carrying our magic-user to check out a huge glowing pile of treasure. The elf was ambushed and killed by a beholder, but the magic-user fell on the treasure and managed to gather a large amount of it in his bag of holding before dimension-dooring his ass back to us.

And that’s where we ran out of time. The Beckerdrome was a blast and made us forget about yesterday’s failure. Later, we learned that we were the most successful of all the groups who dared the Beckerdrome. We won a volume of Veins of the Earth, which we all agreed to offer for auction next year, all income going to Nexus e. V.’s coffers.

And that’s the end of my story. Driving back to Munich, then the next day to Budapest, was a chore. Nothing interesting happened, unless you want to hear me rant about the greasiest fried chicken ever.

The End

The third Cauldron Con might have been short, but it was bigger and better than before for sure. Long live all the organizers and participants who made the event possible. See you again next year, and as usual, if any of you come near Budapest until then, drop me a line. Do not be afraid; my household ran out of pálinka.

For more detailed reports visit the B/X Blackrazor and Age of Dusk blogs.