There is something spooky out tonight. Well, most of the time it is just some creepy-crawly looking for some toes to bite. But this night, this night it was different. Because it was the Miremarsh Night!

All the goblins in their settlement in the midsts of the Miremarsh knew, they felt it in their bones and teeth. A chill that the burning bone fire could not ease, a whisper in the shadows like the ancestors calling your name. All the birds hid, silent during daylight before this particular night, and all the snares were empty as nothing has moved around in the marsh.
Under the disconcerned gazes of the elders all pointy sticks were sharpened with many goblin fingers harmed in the process.
And now all the goblins were waiting for the return of their scout. The only one brave enough to venture out into the darkened swamp under the low hanging sky. Well, they more or less just pushed one unlucky goblin out of the gates and pointed him – with quite some harsh words and threats to spit roast him – into the deep marsh.
Nevertheless they were waiting, all bulwarks manned and the gate closed, just the little porch remained open, ready to grant entry to the returning scout.
And then there came a screeching noise as if all the humans sacrificed by their tribes, bound at wrists and ankles, drowned by their priesest of old, were trying to scratch with their fingernails through the gates of the Undermire to find a less dark and dampen place to rest till the end of times. The noise punched into the goblin ears with thorny fingers, pulled at their bare teeth and blew icy cold in their staring eyes.
But the goblins did not leave the bulwark, they did not give up their posts at the gate and with a grin and a last pull at their hair the screeching sound danced off deeper into the marsh.
Out of the empty silence that followed the screech the small figure of a goblin grew into sight. The goblins at the gates and the porch screamed and cheered the returning scout to be faster, to reach the settlement before the source of this awe bearing sound could reach the gates. And they noticed that the scout held something above his head, something round, glazed deep blue. With eyes wide open and gasping breath the goblin reached the porch and all the goblins gathered around him eager to hear what he has found, what he has brought.
Shivering he holds up a blue potty! And with trembling finders he pulls out a rolled parchment. On it is written: Come to me in the Miremarsh. Signed Mellekai.

We gather for the Miremarsh Night at Gemeindeheim St. Engelbert, Kassenberger Strasse 94, Bochum on Saturday the 17th of November from 05.00 PM to 11.00 PM. There you will have the opportunity to play a shiny pre-production copy of the game Miremarsh and test Museum Rush, too, before the pledge-manager for Miremarsh by Room 17 Games closes on December the 07th. And for all guests there will be a promo card, too. We can host 15 brave goblins (we are planning three rounds, first come, first served). You will only gain entrance to the Marsh if you reserve your seat here.

Always ready to serve you! We have coffee, tea and biscuits for free and there will be the opportunity to order food and drinks.

Mellekai

And there ist even more to experience if you follow the honorable goblin Kehlenschnitt. He is organising another great Miremarsh Night. I am happy to present you his message: