Some Context: My Game Journey from Magic, Board Games, to Sorcery

1/7/2025

A Foil Bloodstained Mire

Like so many, I grew up with Magic the Gathering. I was probably around 10 when I first played. It was at a school camp, and everyone was sharing their smuggled contraband. A pile of tatty cards featuring various monsters captured the attention of all the kids. At the time there was no way I could anticipate the impact that this game would have on my life. A friend graciously gifted me a pile of common goblin cards, and that became the seed of a 25-year-long collecting and gaming hobby.

Urza’s Saga was on the shelves at the time, but we had our eyes on Craw Wurms and Shivan Dragons, so we spent our pocket money on bulk commons rather than ripping booster packs. Too bad I didn’t know about Tolarian Academy back then. But that era of pure innocence is irreplaceable. We played on pure joy and imagination.

I would play Magic on and off throughout my childhood years, but I moved schools and lost touch with many friends. I played and collected Pokemon and Score’s Dragon Ball Z, instilling that sense of wanderlust that maybe the next best thing can be found in a completely new game instead of the tried and tested one. In the process of exploration, novelty was found, but at the cost of never quite being on the same page as everyone else. Not quite being in the right place at the right time became a frustrating theme.

And then in 2002, the set called Onslaught drew me back in to Magic. I remember getting a tournament pack, and the excitement to be opening so many cards in one go was immense. The first card I saw beneath the cellophane was a foil Bloodstained Mire. How disappointing. A rubbish land, that costs life, and a waste of a foil as well. I think I sold it for about 40NZD soon after and was pretty happy with that at the time. Probably immediately grabbed another four or so booster packs. I sometimes look up and see how expensive that card is now, but ultimately that feeling is just part of the hobby. Sometimes regret can be a useful emotion in the collecting hobby, or maybe it just helps create a hoarding mentality…

The Onslaught block was also the only Magic set that I have ever collected in its entirety, completing Onslaught, Legions, and Scourge, giving me an appreciation for the difficulty and cost of pursuing such endeavours. My greatest Magic the Gathering success was winning a Champions of Kamigawa prerelease on my 15th birthday. Meloku the Clouded Mirror was one hell of a card, and I had two in my sealed pool, so I think that win was more luck than skill. But when things align, it does create a sense of serendipity that is quite intoxicating.

But the overall feeling that I learned about competition in Magic was that it wasn’t for me. I enjoyed the thrill of playing with actual stakes, with prizes and pride on the line, but it was all too often not enjoyable. I learned about zero-sum fun. This is the perception where there needs to be a loser for there to be a winner. This attitude extended to the other parts of the hobby, and trading often felt like a hustle rather than something mutually beneficial.

The only trade I remember fondly through all of this was at a prerelease, probably around the Kamigawa block, where my goal was to trade for a Mirari’s Wake for a kitchen table deck. An older player had a foil copy that was well beyond the scope of what I had to offer, but he generously gave it to me seeing my enthusiasm for it. It’s a shame I don’t remember who that player was, but it left a permanent mark on me that sometimes the best trade deals are the ones where dollar amounts aren’t considered. I try and remember that lesson whenever possible.

Eventually, I developed an all-consuming World of Warcraft addiction and there was no longer time for Magic.

The Board Game Era

During university, I stopped playing Magic altogether. Completing that Onslaught block set taught me the difficulty and cost of pursuing completionism, and now there was beer and World of Warcraft subscription time to buy. I did dabble in the Spoils card game and the World of Warcraft TCG, but was unable to afford to go beyond starter decks and a few boosters. Getting a taste of a fun new game and being unable to delve further in was more frustration than it was worth.

Then I saw the Summoner Wars board game. I couldn’t believe that in a single product I was getting all the cards I needed to play, all at an affordable price. I quickly made my purchase and walked out of the store feeling like I had robbed the place. But the first taste is free for a reason.

But my board game was missing a crucial ingredient – people to play it with. World of Warcraft had given me hours of entertainment, but it had withered away my social networks and social skills. I had spent years with faceless players, grinding away in a video game. Meeting and playing with new people was certainly too much for me at the time. Thus began convincing uninterested friends (the few real-life friends I still had from school) to play board games with me. If only Discord existed back then.

Then came the Lord of the Rings Living Card Game by Fantasy Flight. This was a solo board game. Now I didn’t need to find an opponent, and I could dive in to the mechanics and adventure all by myself. Thus starting a long and expensive hobby of collecting and sourcing packs from around the world. If I’m honest, my favourite part about the LotR LCG wasn’t collecting or playing it; it was listening to a fan podcast, Cardboard of the Rings. The sense of being in a community, of listening to other people’s stories and experiences of the game. Year after year, I heard about all these incredible conventions held in the States. Later on as the internet and social media developed, terms emerged such as ‘parasocial relationship’ and ‘FOMO’ which may better describe the situation here.

Over the years, I leaned heavily into collecting board games. I was the guy that rocked up to a social event with a bag full of games that no one really wanted to play, but if things got boring enough, then perhaps a board game would be acceptable. There were some incredible nights where a board game absolutely landed and left everyone wanting more, spurring me on to buy more and more. But more often than not, it didn’t last past the rules explanation before we decided to play a drinking game instead.

But that’s the beauty of competition. It’s a shared desire to attend an event and participate in an activity. That’s the secret weapon of card games like Magic. That people converge in time and space to play together. People bring energy and a desire to share ideas, to put those ideas to the test. I was lost in the hypothetical without enough opportunity to channel that latent energy into something meaningful and useful.

Ultimately, I feel that board games suffer from that failure of time and place. It often feels like no one is ever quite on the same page, even at a dedicated board game event. When sitting down with a group, there is disconnect right from ‘what game should we play?’ Then through a rules explanation, there is a further gulf created from the knowledge, skill and what people want to achieve from the game. Add a few cell phones, side conversations, rules questions, and drinks and… it often just doesn’t quite work. It’s the unsatisfying feeling of a buffet restaurant, of quantity over quality.

By this time, I was longing to go back to Magic. The structured format of organised play has merit, especially for anxious and awkward young men like myself. Even if the vibe got a bit too cutthroat, at least everyone was on the same page.

Netrunner: the Best Game Ever Made

Then came Android: Netrunner. Netrunner was everything I wanted out of a game. It was competitive. It was deeply thematic. It was novel in its mechanics and gameplay. Then events started popping up, and I braced myself to dive back into ruthless competition, but, unexpectedly, it was different to Magic. Everyone was having fun.

Netrunner did not have that savage competition, that zero-sum brutality. I realised that it was more about the shared story space that emerged between two humans and their piles of cards. The game invited you to understand your opponent, to see them as creative and cunning and capable. The game wasn’t played on the table. Heads were raised, we looked each other in the eye, and we asked each other questions – ‘Is that a Snare or an Agenda?’

Perhaps because of this, perhaps because the genre and subject matter encouraged inclusivity and empathy, Netrunner seemed to attract the best players in the community. People were friendly, welcoming, and engaging. Competition could occur without negativity. Suddenly, it didn’t quite matter as much if you won or lost. There was something else being generated, something worth more than prize money and rare promo cards.

Unfortunately during that time, I had a difficult work schedule, so I couldn’t play for weeks at a time, and then when I did have time, I was too tired to attend events. Combined with a format that changed constantly due to the monthly release model, I just couldn’t keep up. I regret not pushing myself to attend more events. When the Fantasy Flight run ended with Reign and Reverie, I was left wishing I had done more. I had found myself at the finish line with gas left in the tank.

Chasing the Dragon

I had experienced the best of what games could offer. I had also experienced many lows. There were some incredible moments, but there was much more discontent. I was now in my 30s and becoming disillusioned with the hobby. In many ways, games – the thought of games – became a coping mechanism, an addiction to get me through the long work days. Retail therapy.

Instead of playing board games, I became a board game collector. I would dream up situations where a game would be the perfect activity for a particular situation with a particular group, and that would be enough to click buy. Receiving a package, unboxing it, putting it on a shelf… well, that was about as far as it got for 90% of my board games.

In Magic, Commander, or EDH, was on the rise, seemingly offering the Holy Grail of gameplay. A chance to play with three friends, to utililse your entire collection, singleton, and actually have fun playing Magic. I poured money into Commander chasing that dragon, building decks and stockpiling singles.

But Commander was a poisoned chalice. For many players, it was a platform to destroy and demoralise three people at a time. Bad-faith actors could never operate with more efficiency at a gaming table. I’ll reiterate that I’m not saying all Magic players are like this, but with four players, the odds are high that at least one person can spoil the experience for one reason or another. Commander is the worst of Magic combined with the worst of board games.

By this point, I had tried everything. I was burnt out on board games and Magic. COVID had done its damage and changed the landscape of interacting with people and going to public spaces. At this point, I decided I was done with games and it was time to move on to something else.

Ensorcelled

And then I saw Sorcery advertised on Kickstarter, and I changed my mind.

Well, no. The Kickstarter looked amazing, but I looked at my shelf of games, and closed the browser. I can’t do another trading card game.

But it stuck in the back of my mind over the next few weeks.

Throughout the pandemic, Team Covenant kept many of us sane by streaming various games on their Youtube channel. I enjoyed watching their content because of the friendship and comradery they showed. I sensed a genuine passion for games in the way they talked about the hobby and the wider industry. They certainly were putting in the hours during a time where most people opted to opt out.

I had found their channel years before by searching for Netrunner content. They often talked about how they’d had a similar experience as I did with Netrunner, experiencing similar positivity, so I sensed that I was on a similar bandwidth as them when it came to gaming.

So when Team Covenant began talking about Sorcery, I listened. Now I was ready to back the Kickstarter.

What appealed to me the most about this fledgling project was that it wasn’t going to be a competitive game. It was a trading card game where I could set my pace. One set a year meant I could build decks and attend events at a nice relaxed pace. I didn’t need to put more money into it than I was comfortable with. Sorcery didn’t demand anything from me.

With Alpha in hand, and Beta starting to hit the shelves, something happened that I did not intend. I started playing and enjoying Sorcery as a competitive game.

Positive Feedback Loop

As with most things, that shift from zero to competitive Sorcery player didn’t happen overnight. It was a series of small and vital steps. The first and most crucial step was that I met incredible people playing Sorcery. The game seemed to attract likeminded individuals that shared my frustrations of the wider hobby and had found a reignition of passion in Sorcery.

I was still in a COVID mindset so there was some re-acclimatising that needed to happen to get back to being comfortable in public. Social anxiety had crept back in during the isolation, so it took some work to overcome that. Fortunately, I found a player interested in trying the game who lived out in the same rural area of Auckland as I did, so he graciously offered to pick me up on his way through to the store to play some games. It was only much later that he revealed how nervous he was that I might be a complete nutjob weirdo and was relieved that I was all right. So, shoutout to Rich, and thank you for taking that risk.

Sorcery has a steep learning curve, so luckily everyone was on the same page in terms of game experience. It was an enjoyable time muddling through the rules, discussing scenarios, and talking strategy, all with an easy grace of likeminded and easygoing individuals. There was no ruthlessness, but competition was active and engaging. I wish there was some way to capture this experience and package it for new players. An issue currently is that new players find it challenging to learn the rules of a very complex game, whilst also dealing with the gulf of knowledge between them and enfranchised players. If anyone resonates with this point and is struggling, then please persevere. It is a challenge, but it’s worthwhile, and everyone will help you to the other side if you ask for help.

During that initial league at Baydragon, I started meeting the people that would become the familiar faces of the Auckland scene. Community events hosted by FTW Events in Auckland gave this spark kindling, and I began feeling the call of the competitive spirit, encouraged by the positive feedback loop of great experience after great experience. Soon I found myself flying to Melbourne to play in my first ever international tournament.

That event in Melbourne cemented Sorcery in my mind as something worthwhile, not just as a game, but as something that I can put my time and effort into. The energy at Plenty of Games was electric. Everyone was smiling, eager to share stories, show off their cards, and make trades (trades based on vibes and not online prices). The store itself is fantastic and well-equipped. The staff are all lovely. And there are actually plenty of clean bathrooms.

At this tournament, I also somehow managed to make the top eight. I was having fun and doing well. Though, my standings were salvaged by the draft portion of the event more so than the prowess of my constructed list. I remember returning back late after lunch on the second day and missing the announcement of the top eight. I was informed that I had made the cut. I rocked up last as Jesse, the tournament organiser and community legend, was trying to herd players to take a photo, so he was surprised to see me holding out my hand for a Crown Sorcerer. To be fair, I was surprised too.

There exists Youtube footage of me being crushed in my top-eight match. It was the first time I had properly played against Enchantress. I was exhausted and mentally drained. There were some boisterous Warhammer players nearby, so it was hard to focus. But still it was one of my favourite and most memorable games I had. My opponent was gracious, and Jesse was able to provide a level of clarity and expertise to the rules that made for a great learning experience. I played my Plague of Frogs into an on-board Wildfire, amongst many other obvious mistakes, and it was inevitable that I lost. But still, I left the event with something greater than any prize – a vigor to delve deeper into the hobby and give more of myself to the community.

The Domino That Did Not Fall

Over the following year, I played multiple times a week, attended more FTW community events, and even went back for another tournament in Melbourne. It was a whirlwind year, and I was cruising on a high of positive emotions. In that time, my collection goals ballooned, my spending increased massively, and going into Arthurian Legends was a feverish dream of ripping packs and going to every event on offer. 

And despite all of that, it seemed that the set just didn’t quite land with the community. Attendance in Auckland quickly dwindled. People were disgruntled about various things. Players returned to Magic and other popular franchises such as One Piece. I think there are several reasons that could possibly explain this, such as economic downturn, a perceived barrier to entry to learn Sorcery, and a reluctance for players to embrace change – such as the increase in deck size.

This is currently a challenging time for enfranchised players, but I think the tide is turning. There is a strong passionate core of players carrying the torch, new players are testing the waters, and Gothic has immense potential to reignite the wildfire. A firework in the sequence didn’t quite work with AL, but there’s still a whole display to detonate once the fuse is reignited.

However, what the fanbase has done under its own steam is incredible. Every stumble is met with two hands held out in rescue. Things currently aren’t loud and flashy, but they’re there, and people are having fun. People genuinely love this game.

Take a Look at Where We Are

Sometimes it’s beneficial to take a step back and reflect properly. Climbing a mountain is more fun if you actually turn around and see the progress you’ve made.

I hadn’t intended to write out this massive chunk of exposition, but I felt compelled to share, that it was important to set the stage for the blog and my writing. I expect my story isn’t unique. In fact, I think my story is very typical for Millennials. The threads of my story culminate into where I am currently and hopefully explain my thinking and position on many things.

My story may sound gloomy and dismal, but there were many great times in the mix that I’m grateful for. However, the crushing industrial process of turning hobbies and nostalgia into a commercial product has left me pessimistic. That is why Sorcery is so refreshing to me. You can’t escape the realities of capitalism, but it’s nice when profit isn’t the number-one objective of a company. It has to be on the list somewhere, of course, but not being priority one makes a massive difference.

Looking to the future, and Cornerstone and Crossroad events are on the horizon, and then Dragonlord and Gothic some time after that. There is a lot to be excited about.