Alex (Arcas) was the lead lore guide of the ETB 15k CCQ that just happened this past weekend (May 30th-31st) in Oakville, ON Canada. She did an amazing job and has graciously allowed me to host her tournament report here… so without further ado…
- Enter The Battlefield 15K CCQ Tournament Report
- Part of My World
- Be Our Guest, All 212 of You
- You’ve Got a Friend in the Judge Team
- The Weekend Bingo Card Filled Itself
- I Can Show You the Stream
- What Can I Say Except: It’s Dale
- Unfortunate Investigations
- Go the Distance, End of Round Edition
- Under the Table Space
- Be Prepared… or Let It Go
- One Jump Ahead? Not This Time
- Happily Ever After, but With More Paperwork
- My Poor Unfortunate Rolls
- Thank You
Enter The Battlefield 15K CCQ Tournament Report
by Alex (Arcas) Symington
May 30–31, 2026 | Oakville, ON Canada
Lead Lore Guide: Alex (Arcas) Symington

Part of My World
I have officially survived my first CCQ as Lead Lore Guide.
Not my first time head judging, but absolutely my first time head judging something at this scale. Smaller events are one thing. A 212-player CCQ with 8 rounds of Swiss, a Top 32 cut on Day 2, coverage, side events, a full judge team, and all the tiny moving pieces that come with a major weekend is very much another thing.
And honestly?
I am really proud of this one.
Be Our Guest, All 212 of You

Going into the weekend, I knew the event was going to ask a lot of the judge team.
We had 1 Lead Lore Guide, 1 Appeals Judge, 4 Lore Guides on Saturday, 5 Lore Guides on Sunday, and 1 scorekeeper.
That sounds like a lot until you are looking at 212 players, long rows of tables, a stream area, side events, deck checks, end-of-round procedures, questions coming from every direction, and a judge Discord that suddenly becomes your second brain (Shoutout Lorecana Rulebook Hub).
The part I will remember most is how supported I felt.
This weekend was not “Alex runs a CCQ.”
It was a full judge team showing up, adapting, solving problems, and making the event better as we went.
Judge Takeaway: Scale is not just about player count. It is about how many situations are demanding judge attention at the same time. The right team structure matters.
You’ve Got a Friend in the Judge Team
I have spent a lot of time judging events where I am used to just handling everything myself, especially anything around 32 players. So on Day 2, having another judge assigned to work directly with me for Top 32 felt weird at first.
My instinct was very much, “No no, I can do this.”
But that was not the point.
The point was player experience.
If I am the only judge actively covering those matches, players do not really have a clean appeal path. Pairing another judge with me was the correct call, even if my brain had to fight the little goblin that says, “You should be able to do everything alone.”
Turns out, good event structure is not about proving you can carry everything.
It is about building the right support around the players.
Judge Takeaway: Appeals structure should not be theoretical. Players need a real, accessible path to appeal, especially in high-stakes rounds.

The Weekend Bingo Card Filled Itself

Every large event has its own little chaos bingo card, and this weekend came prepared.
None of these are the kind of things you want to happen, but they are exactly the kind of situations that test whether your event team can stay calm, communicate clearly, and fix the problem in front of them.
We had technical hiccups. We had player movement issues. We had wrong-table problems. We had a round result entered later than it should have been. We had finalists who, shockingly, needed their decks to play the finals.
The important part is that the team handled them, the event kept moving, and every single hiccup gave me something to carry into the next event.
For future events, I want more formal checklists around key transition points: start of round, end of round, top cut setup, deck movement, feature match movement, and finals preparation. Not because anyone failed, but because major events are full of small moments where a checklist protects everyone from brain fatigue.
Judge Takeaway: Big event mistakes are rarely one giant failure. They are usually tiny process gaps that show up when everyone is tired. Checklists are boring until they save you.
Also, finals players need their decks.
Groundbreaking tournament operations insight from your Head Judge.
I Can Show You the Stream
We also had a feature table judge call that did not go the way it should have, and the virtual audience quickly filled in the blanks without the full context.
The real situation was much less dramatic than it looked from the outside: the player had only started playing their deck a few weeks earlier.
A good reminder from that one:
Stream calls are not just rulings.
They are public rulings.
The judge call, the body language, the explanation, the casters’ reaction, and the chat’s reaction all become part of the player experience. That does not mean we treat feature match players differently, but it does mean we need to be extra aware of how quickly an unclear moment can turn into a story that is not accurate.
For future streamed events, I want judges to be reminded that camera matches need calm presence, clear explanations, and quick escalation when something feels unclear. Not because the ruling changes, but because the audience does not have the same context the judge has at the table.
Judge Takeaway: Stream rulings need the same policy foundation as any other ruling, but they require more awareness of communication, body language, and public perception.
What Can I Say Except: It’s Dale

Rules-wise, Dale ended up being one of the top calls of the weekend.
Understanding how that card interacts came up repeatedly, and it was a good reminder that the “popular call of the weekend” is not always something obscure.
Sometimes it is just the card people are playing a lot, and judges need to be aligned on it early.
Dale became one of those cards where repeated questions made it clear that the judge team needed shared language and consistent handling. Once a card keeps coming up, it is worth pausing, aligning the team, and making sure everyone is giving the same answer.
Judge Takeaway: Early pattern recognition matters. If the same card or interaction comes up multiple times, align the team before it becomes inconsistent.
Unfortunate Investigations
Outside of the main 15K event, we also had a side-event investigation.
I am keeping the details out of this report because that situation deserves the right context and documentation, but it was a clear reminder that even when the main event is the focus, side events also deserve real judge attention, clear communication, and proper escalation.
Side events cannot just receive leftover coverage.
They need a dedicated judge presence, a clear escalation path, and the same seriousness when something crosses into investigation territory.Judge Takeaway: Side events are still events. If players are competing, judges need coverage, communication, and escalation plans.
Go the Distance, End of Round Edition
Operationally, one of the things I am happiest with was end of round.
Our average end-of-round time was 9 minutes.
That is something I am genuinely proud of. End-of-round procedures can make or break the feel of a long tournament day. Clean, fast end-of-round procedures keep players moving, keep staff from drowning, and help the entire event feel more controlled.
It was not magic.

It was judge coverage, communication, scorekeeping, and everyone understanding what needed to happen before the round actually ended.
A clean end of round starts before time is called. Judges need to know where they are watching, scorekeeping needs clean information, and the team needs to be ready to collapse the round quickly without creating confusion.Judge Takeaway: End of round is not a single moment. It is a process that starts before time is called.
Under the Table Space
The room itself was another learning point.
Players did not have as much playing space as I would have liked on Day 1. Once players started leaving on Day 2, we were able to clear the hall briefly and separate the tables more.
That immediately improved the room.
It is one of those things that seems small until you are watching players try to manage decks, discard piles, lore trackers, bags, water bottles, and paperwork in a very tight space for eight rounds.
Player comfort matters.
Space matters.
Table layout matters.
Future Alex will be louder about this during setup, not after Round 1.
Judge Takeaway: Table spacing is not just a comfort issue. It affects communication, board clarity, judge access, player stress, and the overall feel of the event..
Be Prepared… or Let It Go

We also used an anonymous voting system for a prize split decision in the 5K side event, which I always really like to do.
The options were themed as “Be Prepared” for wanting to play it out and “Let It Go” for splitting.
Cute? Yes.
Functional? Also yes.
Prize split conversations can put a lot of pressure on players, especially when they are tired, emotional, running up against time restraints, or sitting across from someone they do not want to disappoint.
Sometimes players want to split because the day has gone long. Sometimes they have travel plans, work the next morning, family waiting, or they are simply out of energy after hours of competitive play. Those are real factors, and players should be able to make that choice without feeling pressured either way.
Even when everyone is being respectful, there can still be an awkward social pressure to agree with the table.
The anonymous voting system removes that pressure.
It lets each player make their own decision privately, without needing to justify it, defend it, or worry about being “the person who made everyone play it out.” It also gives judges a clean process to follow and makes the final decision feel much more comfortable for everyone involved.
It kept the process private, clean, and still very Disney Lorcana themed.
I will absolutely be using this method again.
Judge Takeaway: Anonymous voting protects player autonomy. If every player needs to agree, every player should be able to answer privately.
One Jump Ahead? Not This Time
Jon, my Appeals Judge, approached me before Top 32 and told me that he likes to sit at the finals table for his events.
My first reaction was very much, “No, I need to keep moving.”
That instinct makes sense. As Head Judge, it can feel like you need to constantly be in motion to be useful. Checking tables, checking staff, checking scorekeeping, checking the room, checking the 47 tiny fires that may or may not be starting.
But then I realized he was right.
For Top 32, my job was not to patrol the room like it was still Swiss.
My job was to protect the integrity of the highest-stakes matches in the event.
Sitting at those tables, being present, and being fully locked in was not me doing less. It was me choosing where my attention mattered most.
I had a few people comment on how “locked in” I was at that table, and they were right. I was not looking around the room. I was not half-watching five things at once.
I was watching the match in front of me.
That matters.
At that point in the tournament, one missed interaction, one unclear communication, one sloppy shortcut, or one tense player moment can have a huge impact. Being fully present gives players confidence that the match is being protected, that help is right there if needed, and that the event is taking their match seriously.
It was a good lesson for me.
Sometimes Head Judging means moving.
Sometimes Head Judging means sitting down and not moving at all.
Judge Takeaway: The Head Judge’s best location changes as the event changes. During Swiss, movement may matter most. During top cut, focused presence may matter more.
Happily Ever After, but With More Paperwork
What I am taking away from this weekend is not that everything went perfectly.
It did not.
No major event ever does.
What I am taking away is that we handled the things that came up.
We adjusted. We communicated. We escalated when we needed to. We fixed what we could fix in the moment. We learned from the things we could not fully fix.

And, most importantly, the judge team cared.
They cared about the players, the event, each other, and the experience we were creating.
That is the part that sticks with me.
For my first CCQ as Lead Lore Guide, I could not have asked for a better team or a better community to learn with. I walked into the weekend knowing I was capable but still carrying all the normal fear that comes with doing something this big for the first time.
This weekend also made something click for me personally.
I got a lore pip tattoo.
And yes, it is because I love Disney Lorcana, but it is also more than that. It is a reminder of what this game and this community have helped me prove to myself.
I can step into bigger rooms.
I can lead bigger teams.
I can handle pressure.
I can make difficult calls.
I can learn in public.
I can make mistakes, fix them, and keep going.
I can be proud of myself without needing everything to be flawless first.
So yes, it is a Disney Lorcana tattoo.
But it is also a little permanent reminder that I earned my lore, too.
My Poor Unfortunate Rolls
Every event has its traditions, and one of mine is the dice count.
At the end of every event I judge, I “adopt” the dice that get left behind and make their way to Lost & Found. I like to think of them as tiny abandoned math rocks just looking for a second chance.
They are lovingly known as My Poor Unfortunate Rolls.
Some judges collect stories. Some collect judge promos. Apparently, I collect the dice that players accidentally leave behind.
So, as is tradition:
Final Dice Count: 12 Poor Unfortunate Rolls successfully adopted from Lost & Found.
Thank You
A huge thank you to Enter The Battlefield for trusting me with this event, and to the judge team for showing up with care, patience, flexibility, and confidence all weekend.
Thank you to Jon for being the support I needed before I even knew I needed it, to Niko for keeping scorekeeping steady, and to every floor judge who helped make the event feel controlled, welcoming, and well cared for.
Thank you to the players for bringing the energy, the patience, the competitive spirit, and the community that makes Disney Lorcana feel special.
And a very special thank you to my husband, who does not play Disney Lorcana, but still showed up, played, supported me, and spent the weekend beside me in a world that means so much to me.This weekend meant a lot to me.
Not because it was perfect.
Because it reminded me that I do not need everything to be perfect to be proud of what we built.













































