The massive buildings of the Broadgate centre, the financial heart of London, towered imposingly in front of me. I was panicking as I realised that I was almost half an hour late for my first appointment with a big shot Venture Capitalist. I didn’t really know where their offices were either. The place was full of confident people in sharp suits. You could almost feel money seeping from the walls.

The idea was to approach venture capitalists first rather than publishers. By getting funding for the full development from a VC, we could complete the game and then approach publishers. If the game was as stunning as we hoped, we would get a much better financial package. The cost in terms of equity exchanged for the initial investment, would easily be worth the extra royalty percentages we would gain.

In theory the plan was simple: blow them away with impressive stats on Theme Park, talk them through the detailed business plan, enthuse about the backgrounds and records of the core team…… and then ask them for £2 million. I had been advised that it simply about confidence. Any sign of weakness and they would be scared off.

Having found the right building, I got into the glass turbo lift and went to the 14th floor. The weather and my suit made me incredibly hot. Unfortunately, like the business plan, a suit is a necessary evil, essential for persuading them that I am in fact an even-keeled businessman rather than computer gaming eccentric (well, I tried at least). This seemed especially important as I am regularly told that I look 10 years old. The lift opened, and I confidently walked into the reception. Inside I was a nervous wreck.

A couple of well-dressed and ridiculously confident yuppie types greeted me. They were initially very cautious, clearly unsure as to whether or not I was wasting their time. After a brief meeting they suggested that, as I was late, we should go to lunch to talk through the proposal. I took this as auspicious – I must have made a good first impression. This thought quickly evaporated as I realised that it was in fact probably an excuse for them to have lunch on expenses!

When three bottles of wine were ordered during the first course I knew that this was going to be a long day. Alcohol consumption at lunchtime has never been one of my strengths. Of course I didn’t want to seem rude, so I went along with it (ah, the sacrifices I’ve made….). Over lunch I explained the proposal in depth. Several hours and plenty of alcohol later, they seemed enthusiastic. In fact, so much so that they suggested that we meet their boss who, as it happened, was in a pub round the corner. I could see a pattern emerging. The real business of the City is done in pubs, restaurants and bars. Your relative importance would seem to be measured by the size and number of spare tyres you have.

I was drunk, knackered and hot. Five pints of lager later, the meeting was going very well. I’d told them about my chess playing exploits (I was the world’s highest ranked chess player of my age when I was 12) and it seemed to have done the trick. To my amazement, the Boss turned round and offered me a job working for him as a currency trader. Why bother with Elixir, he asked me. The starting salary would be £200K plus bonuses totalling 10% of whatever I made for the company. I was completely taken aback. Of course I turned it down, saying that creating games was what I really wanted to do. It was a flattering offer nonetheless and on tube ride home I did some soul searching to make sure that I was doing the right thing. I had already given up a dream job as a Director of Lionhead to start Elixir - there could be no turning back now.

Several days letter, thy sent me an offer of funding to the tune of £2 million. My initial elation faded as I read that they wanted 50% of the company for it. This was way too much as it would mean losing control of the company, a situation I wanted to avoid at all costs. It also meant that there would be fewer shares to distribute to the other founders and I wasn’t prepared to accept that. I arranged a further meeting to try and thrash this point out, as I was thinking more along the lines of 20%. In the end an agreement could not be reached. It all came done to a question of valuation and of course agreeing on the value of air and potential isn’t easy. I had meetings with a dozen Venture Capitalists, and they all ended in much the same way. They liked us, but they wanted our soul in exchange for the money. Much to my disappointment, after persevering for several months it became clear that if I wanted to maintain control of Elixir, I would have to go down the publisher route. The world Entertainment fair, E3, held every year in Atlanta, was approaching. It would be the perfect opportunity to meet with publishers. However, it was a mere 2 weeks away and I hadn’t booked a hotel or even a flight. Worse still, I had been funding Elixir with my savings and I was almost broke. Nobody said it was going to be easy, but I’d never dreamed it would be as tough as this.

© 1998-2000 Elixir Studios Ltd. All rights reserved.