I'm back from Rolisboa '26.

And I'm tired.

Still very tired.

But mostly...

This weekend was another one of those moments when Silent Læke stopped feeling like something I'm making behind a computer and became something that exists between actual people.

And that still gets me every time.

We ran a new Silent Læke session at the convention, with four Players and one Director.

Now, that's actually larger than the game's sweet spot.
Silent Læke is designed to shine particularly brightly with one or two Players plus the Director.

But this was a convention.

I wanted more people to have the chance to step into town.

So we crowded the lake a little.

And you know what?

Four Players brought a different energy to the table, and getting to watch another group inhabit the game, make terrible decisions and discover what its mechanics can do was immensely rewarding.

Every table teaches me something.

This one also made me laugh a lot.

I'll take that.

One of my favourite parts of the weekend happened at the Newborn Games booth.

Some of our Killer backers actually came to collect their physical copies of Dusk's Embrace.

There is something wonderfully strange about recognising a BackerKit username and then suddenly having the actual human being standing in front of you.

We also had Lovers who—even though they could have perfectly well played "Dusk's Embrace" using the PDF included in their pledge—bought physical copies at the convention.

And then something even more unexpected happened.

People who hadn't backed Silent Læke at all saw Dusk's Embrace sitting on the table...

picked it up...

looked through it...

and bought it.

Apparently making the magazine pretty was a sound business decision.

Who knew?

There was one autograph this weekend that I wasn't quite expecting.

And then asked me to sign it.

Yes.

THAT Grant Howitt.

I'm still processing that one.

Rolisboa brought us more than players and sales. We were visited by musicians, graphic artists and other creators interested in collaborating with Newborn Games.

We had conversations about Silent Læke.

About music.

About art.

About future games.

And even about possibilities for getting our games into more hands beyond Portugal. Some of those conversations may lead somewhere. Some may not. That's how conventions work.

But the fact that they're happening at all means a lot to me. Because Silent Læke began as a very personal, very strange passion project. And somehow, around it, a community has formed.

Backers.

Players.

Readers.

Artists.

Musicians.

Designers.

People who stop at a convention booth because the cover of a weird little magazine catches their eye.

People who know me only as a username.

People whose usernames I now know as faces.

I came home from Rolisboa exhausted.

But also incredibly moved.

And this strange little town keeps getting bigger.

Thank you to everyone who came to play.

Thank you to everyone who came to collect a book.

Thank you to everyone who bought one.

Thank you to everyone who stopped just to talk, ask questions, pitch an idea, take a photo or say hello.

And, as always, thank you to all of you who made it possible for this game to exist in the first place.

The lake is getting crowded.

See you at the lake.