Before a young Paladin can taste the glory of battle, he must first roll the 20-sided die and create his character. As a seasoned D&D player, I’ve already got one in the hopper. So, let me introduce you to your hero:

Beardley Beefsbane, prior to today’s adventure. According to the event’s rules, combat was strictly prohibited.

Inventory

Every character must plan their inventory with prescience and diligence. For any event with the potential to encumber your character with free comic book swag, you must be able to mule appropriately. For this task, I’ve selected a large nylon rucksack.

Considering the rucksack’s capacity, I’ve also opted to surrender some of that space to sustenance (snacks). I selected a brown bag classic PB&J (crust included for nourishment) and some gummy bears for that extra sugary kick of energy for post-quest recovery. There’s also some camera lenses and extra batteries in there for proper documentation.

The Quest Begins

As I exited the parking garage I immediately noticed scattered bands of cosplay revelers scurrying through plumes of sewer-grate steam and bounding around clods of lunching loft-dwellers en route to America’s Center. The brisk Spring air scraped my face as I sallied forth across the thaw with the promise of superhero splendor to drive me. I entered the building and was immediately greeted by Wonder Woman. My fuzzy knowledge of Graphic Novel Belief Systems lead me to believe this was a good omen.

CONSTITUTION +1

I continued North to find lines as long as The Great Serpent’s tail. After consulting a high-level steampunk wizard, I determined this line was for people that wanted to meet someone named Matt Smith. Hundreds of Smithites shifted weight from side to side in waiting, they checked their phones for messages from, I can only assume, their mothers or other handlers. I passed them without alerting them to my presence on my way to The Great Gate, “Comic Con Check-In”.

A friendly and informative high-level steampunk wizard and his muscle.

Wristband permanently installed, I was now an official attendee of Wizard World St. Louis, and granted access to all areas. The great entrance to Wizard World lay to the East and set between us was a throng of characters, mostly standing in lines for other things. Queues seemed to be a tradition here. Throngs of people stood in them for cheesy pretzels, pizza, or funnel cake (titled “Zombie Brains”). I thought to myself, “Good thinking, Beardley, you’ve packed in your lunch, thereby avoiding the drudgery of long queues on this day”.

ENCOUNTER!

Two roving Warriors stopped me with an inquiry about The Furies. I avoided a conflict by denying any knowledge of the Furies’ location, asking them for a photograph and complimenting their choice in armor. Warriors are notoriously vain. CHARISMA +1

Only a hundred yards lay between the heavily fortified entrance and myself, yet it seemed an insurmountable distance. Thousands of other questers crisscrossed the atrium and I wondered, “What is it that lies within that sends these weary souls back out? Surely it can’t be simply pizza and restrooms. The revelers look exhausted and encumbered by bags of loot and melting battle makeup. What chaos lies within? What forces are at play? What magical, mystical spells are being cast upon these revelers?”

Check back next week for our hero’s adventure beyond the velvet rope, exposing what mysteries stir beneath the guise of a simple comic book convention. Expect celebrity encounters, space-age doll makers, animal smugglers and tales of sweet melodies sung by vicious vendors. And robots. Especially robots.

If you can’t wait to hear more about James’ experience at Wizard World, contact him at jamesc@theswitch.us.