Once upon a time, I, Ssorn, a self-proclaimed tabletop and digital gamer, found myself reliving the adventures of my childhood. Back then, I spent countless hours diving into imaginary worlds, slaying dragons, and embarking on heroic quests with my friends.
One game, in particular, held a special place in my heart: HeroQuest. The blend of strategy, fantasy, and adventure made it my all-time favorite. I spent many a happy hour devising exciting and challenging maps for my two older brothers to navigate!
Fast forward to 2023, now a father of three, I got the chance to visit the UK Game Expo for the first time. Upon arrival, the atmosphere buzzed with the energy of thousands of like-minded enthusiasts. There were games of every kind, my eyes gleamed with the excitement of a kid in a candy store. Among the list of board games on an exhibitor’s shelves, I saw it: HeroQuest. Complete with beautifully crafted miniatures, detailed tiles, and all the nostalgia one could pack into a box.
I was in awe. I chatted with the booth attendants, bored them stupid with tales of my epic childhood adventures, and finally, after parting with a rather hefty sum (Yes, like everything – It’s cheaper on Amazon…), I clutched the HeroQuest box to my chest like a precious relic. I practically floated back home, daydreaming of the epic campaigns I’d soon embark on with my friends and family.
But reality, as it often does, had other plans. I arrived home to find my wife wrangling our three kids, who had apparently decided to see how much spaghetti could fit into my PS5. I carefully set HeroQuest aside, vowing to open it once things calmed down.
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. Every time I glanced at the HeroQuest box, now collecting dust on a high shelf, I felt a pang of longing. I tried to set up a game night, but something always came up: a DIY project, a late meeting at work, a sick kid/wife/dog, etc. The universe seemed to conspire against me.
HeroQuest is known for its tactical gameplay, where players can take on the roles of heroes such as the Barbarian, the Elf, the Dwarf, and the Wizard, embarking on quests set by the evil sorcerer Zargon (aka Dungeon Master). It’s a game that requires time, patience, and a bit of strategic thinking. But time, it seemed, was in short supply in our household.
My middle child took a particular interest in the HeroQuest box. She’d often ask, “Daddy, can we play the hero game?” I’d smile wistfully and reply, “Soon, Soon.” But soon never came. She eventually took matters into her own hands, using the miniatures as action figures in her own improvised adventures. I found the Barbarian fighting dinosaurs and the Wizard in a tea party with stuffed animals.
One evening, as I tucked her into bed, I noticed a familiar figure poking out from under the pillow. It was the dwarf miniature, now adorned with a tiny cape made from a napkin. I kissed her (my daughter, not the dwarf) goodnight, a bittersweet smile on my face.
A year passed. The UK Game Expo 2024 is almost upon us, and I received an email reminder. I stared at it for a moment, then looked over at the HeroQuest box, still unopened. Sighing, I turned back to my email and unsubscribed from the mailing list.
That night, after the kids were asleep, I decided enough was enough. I dusted off the HeroQuest box, set up the board, and arranged the pieces. I sat there, in the dim light of the kitchen, imagining the adventures I would have had.
Just as I was about to pack it up again, my wife came in, curious. “Why don’t we play?” she suggested. I looked at her, surprised. We spent the next few hours in our own heroic quest, laughing and strategizing! The kids woke up the next morning to find us asleep at the table, surrounded by miniatures and dice.
Though I never got to dive back into HeroQuest the way I imagined, I realized that sometimes the adventure is in the journey, not the destination. And who knows? Maybe one day, when the kids are a bit older, we’ll all embark on those quests together.
Take care,
– Ssorn.