Pictures from Nordic Warrior Cup

We're back!

I guess that technically we were back like three weeks ago, but I've been too busy playing actual Magic and traveling to actual tournaments to write stuff on ye olde blaggo. It's been physical games in Gothenburg, Oslo, Borås and Drammen since the last update. Real Magic. Accidentally stole the Paralyze Audun cast on my Wall of Brambles when he wanted to attack for lethal with a Control Magic'd Lord Magnus at a local pub meetup. That kind of Magic.

I've also traded away cards for something like $15,000 in the last weeks. So trading is a thing again, and that could also be a post. I now have like 40 new Legends rares and completed a playset Workshops, among other shiny things. Gatherings beget cards changing hands, and old is exchanged for other old.

And I got into my fourth BSK 93/94 top8, which I think puts me on a tie with Hannes "Beyonce" Löfgren for lifetime top8s on that particular tournament. Hannes also got his fourth BSK top8 this year, but not after losing to me in the swiss almost completely due to Sol'Kanar the Swamp King both rounds (he was on Black Disaster, and Sol'Kanar can be just hilarious in the matchup). We were all crushed by the four-eyed juggernaut that is Svante Landgraf this year though.

But if you want to read about BSK, I'd say check out A Bitter Perspective on Old School Mtg. Åland posted a nice report about the convention the other week, and even wrote an article in Swedish at svenskamagic.com for those of you versed in that language. Or how about listening to a properly produced podcast episode with both the winner and the organizer over at Monster of the Week?

So instead, here, we're gonna enjoy some pictures from the Nordic Warrior Cup in Drammen from the weekend before BSK. This showdown marked the first open oldschool gathering in Scandinavia since February 2020. 29 players, and as such edging out The Horrible Horse Gathering as the largest Norwegian gathering to date. Let's go.

The wizards gather. Our battleground was a beautiful tavern in the heart of Drammen, found and fixed by local hero Erland. Just seeing people like this almost felt like waking up from a long sleep.

Handsome flute-player and n00bcon master-of-scores Mällroth took the trip across the border from Karlstad, Sweden. Behind him, Norwegian end-boss Thomas Nilsen cloning his pose.

Happy nerds pre-gaming.

Two smiling fellas from the continent joined up to help run the tournament, play cards, and offer sweet, sweet deals.

If you suddenly find yourself twenty or so moxen short of an ideal manabase, Alban can hook you up.

Someone picking up their first Chaos Orb; another guy trading in scores of cards to get their hands on a Beta Shivan Dragon; a third doing wicked deals to finally unlock that Tabernacle. The sounds and smells and smiles of cards changing hands are music to my ears.

Today, we shall battle for this Hammer.

Anticipation.

Organizer and vest-aficionado Mitja drops the flag. We're off to the races.

Imagine being able to sit this close to people again. Never thought I'd miss the smell of cramped up Magic players so much.

My first opening hand at a tournament in a year and a half, and it is a salty one. Feels slightly ungentlemanly to keep, especially when facing a good guy like Mällroth game one.

I complement the Library by shortly after Mind Twisting Mällroth's hand. He still manages to be very aggressive and get me down to a low life total, but I get a 20-point life swing with Mirror Universe. Jesus, that was a harsh way to start.

Round 2 opening hand. Wtf is this nonsense? Still keeping, I guess.

Mind Twist follows. I am the single worst gentleman.

That button in the top right corner of my mat just looks at me in disdain. This was not how we were supposed to play Magic, now that we finally were able.

Mällroth is a good sport while my sin is palpable. I try to buy him a beer as a commercialized indulgence of sorts, but accidentally get a random Christmas beer instead of the bock beer he craved. He gets an afternoon of stabs, but still smiles. A better man than most.

Beer soothes my shame, and round two I'm up against Audun. Steals his four-four with a Control Magic to smash face.

Audun steals it back and proceeds to smash my face instead. As Garfield Nintendo, or whatever the saying is.

Karma is some sort of bitch.

Stare at some sweet cards and rad dudes between the rounds.

Game three is against Erland. Well, can't complain that I don't get colorful reunions with each new opponent at least. "Turn one Granite Gargoyle, turn two Sol'Kanar" is met with a smile and a thumbs up. A more civilized way to go broken, Mind Twist be damned.

Oldschool Magic is awesome.

Round four is up, as is the ambience.

"Hello puny Ehrnam and Herman, have you met my friends Shivan the Dragon and Mahamoti the Djinn?" I'm not sure if Trygve's face shows disappointment or awe as I take this picture, but it was a good game against a very fine gentleman. And I think this was the first time I got to summon both Ivan Drago and Fat Moti to the same battlefield, which feels a bit like an achievement unlocked.

Round five for the win-and-in against Odd Anders from Kristiansand (where I coincidentally spent my summer vacation). Odd Anders and his wife Mia (who also battled at the gathering) are the organizers of Farmstead; a sweet Norwegian oldschool tournament at an ancestral farm. Odd Anders also has Youtube channel - Farmstead TV - where you can find a bunch of the matches from Nordic Warrior. (Check out round four if you want to see yours truly luck out with Project M btw.)

Odd Anders turned out to be the better man, and I'm forced to linger around in failure, nursing a lone beer. But what's this? What has turned the attention of the crowd?

It's true. Oldschool is back now. If there's any indicator of a proper 93/94 gathering, it has to be the sound of Mikael Mällroth playing his flute.

We also had and actual winner of the tournament! Thorbjørn not only crushed the top8, he did a flawless victory in the swiss, not losing a single duel. Well played Thorbjørn! It is a pleasure to see Oslo represent. (Another semi-winner of the tournament was the organization Hospital Clowns to which the full entry fee of 1550 Nok was donated.)

The winning deck. Su-Chi eats books. And a man must adore the miser's Disintegrate.

Thanks for gathering again fellow wizards and nerds. It has been too long, and I can't tell how much I appreciate to be back.