One of them gets right in my face, and I respond by yelling ' Thank you' back, which is probably the most depressingly British thing I’ve ever done. We’re greeted at the gatehouse by a bunch of medieval re-enactors yelling ' Welcome!' at us through smoke from lit braziers and unlit smoke machines. Apparently the castle was first mentioned in historical records around 1213, before proceeding on a typically castle-y history of being variously destroyed, left to rot, and rebuilt across the next 800 years. It’s certainly worthy of it, an imposing sprawl of stone walls and towers high on the side of the valley overlooking the Rhine. The event is taking place in the nearby Castle Reichenstein, which must be the most German name for a castle imaginable. Apparently it has been in development for 12 years and releases imminently, although this is the first I’ve personally heard of it. We’re here to see Kingdom Under Fire II, a Korean hybrid of MMORPG and real-time strategy. Of course they didn’t! That would be absurd. ![]() Everyone else exchanges glances, clearly thinking the same thing: If she comes back alone, we’re definitely in trouble. Immediately afterwards, the receptionist appears and explains to one of the Italian journalists that his room is in the hotel’s special ' guest house', separate from the main building, and if he would be so inclined to accompany her, alone, into the night, she’ll show him where it is. ![]() Everyone laughs, albeit more from relief than anything else. That’s when I decide to make my stupid joke. None of us have ever met before, and the sparse room and total silence of the hotel is clearly making everyone feel a little uncomfortable. Alongside myself, there is a Pole, a Hungarian, a Frenchman, three Italians, and a pleasant Danish fellow who doesn’t like salmon. After checking in, we’re immediately ushered into a small function room where some food has been laid out in anticipation of our late arrival. It’s several minutes before the receptionist appears from closing the kitchen. When we finally arrive, both the village and the hotel are silent. This was followed by a long, cramped drive into an increasingly isolated spot of rural Germany, a slideshow of shadowy forests with occasional flashes of civilisation. A mix-up with the taxis at the airport meant our small group of journalists spent 40 minutes trying to figure the situation out with a German taxi driver who kept repeating ' You are not going to Bingen!' in increasingly hysterical tones. At the moment I don’t know this, however, because it’s 11pm at night and completely dark. It’s a beautiful place, a long, meandering line of centuries-old timber-framed houses fringed by autumnal forest on one side and vineyards on the other. The hotel Weinberg-Schlößchen sits in the middle of Oberheimbach, a sleepy vintners' town on the slopes of the Rhine Valley, about an hour’s drive outside of Frankfurt. ' This is like the beginning of a slasher film.' ![]() Transport, accommodation, and hospitality costs for this trip were covered by Gameforge.
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