Warmahordes league, round II

Sunday was the second of three events for my local warmahordes league.




Game 1:

My first opponent, Gram, wanted to warm up with a hordes on hordes match so I borrowed a legion battle box. Being superstitious about such things, mine was at home as I don’t like to mix factions in the same case. This was a nice start to the day. I had PLylyth, 4 shredders, and a Carnivean. Gram took PKaya, a Gorax, a feral warpwolf, and a unit of tharn ravagers.

Terrain was sparse. I had a small stony ridge in my lower right deployment area. There was a large crater network in the center of the board. Beyond that, it was open. This was my first time playing hordes. I played against Kaya once before in a kitchen table throw down so I knew she was fast and prone to teleporting shenanigans. I won the role-off and opted to go second. I wanted Gram to move forward and extend his lines, letting me pick the point of contact. From my perspective, he set up in the upper left corner of the board with the ravagers on the left and the beasts on the right screening Kya. I decided to see where he would commit himself before picking a flank. I deployed slightly behind the stony outcrop in a flying ‘V’ formation—2 shredders on either side of the Carnivean with Lylyth sheltering a couple inches behind the giant spiky dinosaur.

We moved slowly, working on bating the other guy into a charge for the first 3 turns. I managed to get parasite on the Gorax. He moved his ravagers up my left flank while leaving his beasts in front of my battle group. I responded by removing the 2 shredders from that flank and positioning them off to the right.

Turn 4, Gram decided that he was going to press the engagement. He moved his ravagers up my left flank into charge range. His wolf moved forward with Kaya right behind him. This was the turn I had been waiting for. I up kept parasite, moved Lylyth up, popped her feet, and shot the warp wolf twice. In retrospect, I should have shot it with irruption of spines and hit Kya for first blood. The 2 left most shredders made failed charges on the encroaching ravagers, blocking future charge lanes. The carnivean charged the warpwolf, hit Kya and the Gorax with the assault spray, boosted on Kaya and took her down to 5 boxes. He used his initial attacks and remaining fury to dismantle the warpwolf. With the wolf gone, my two remaining shredders had line of sight to Kaya. The nearest one went rabid, charged

, and finished off the druid.

Game 1, Lylyth.



Game 2:

Jason and Nate were still going at it on the other board so we decided to go for a second round. Gram was ready to up the power level. We pushed up the points. I took PButcher, a Kodiak, a Decimator, Yuri, a man hunter, a war dog, and a unit of widowmakers. He took PBaldur, 2 Argus, a feral warpwolf, a unit of tharn ravagers, and Lord of the Feast.

I don’t think Gram had ever faced Butcher before. He was understandably concerned over the big guy’s threat potential. I was pretty confident that I could face this down, especially since Baldur didn’t have any constructs with him. Ironically, Baldur and Kaya were the only warlocks I’d faced to that point. My opponent won the role off and took first turn. He set up in the upper left hand corner again with most of his forces positioned to run down my right flank. I held back in my corner with the jacks in front of the butcher to the left of the outcropping. My widowmakers deployed on the outcrop, giving most of them elevation. Yuri and the other man hunter hugged the terrain behind them, ready to charge to Butcher’s assistance or walk through the snipers and counter assault.

The first two turns consisted of Circle slowly advancing on my position while I consolidated my charge lanes and lines of sight. Gram put stone skin on the warpwolf while I got iron flesh on the widowmakers…defense 17 FTW! After turn 3 I was pretty sure the snipers had range on the ravagers so I popped butcher’s feet. Two of the WM had range and managed to scrub a beast man. The decimator was out sadly.

Turn 4, the Lord of the feast missed a raven shot and Gram ran the remaining Tharn into melee with my widowmakers. I’m not sure what he intended with that move but if he wanted to feed me his army piece by piece I wasn’t going to argue. Butcher charged and missed, bought another attack, and killed a ravager. Man hunter walked around the terrain and killed a second beast man with his first attack. Yuri walked over the hill, turned himself so Butcher wasn’t in his front arc, killed the last Tharn, and missed a thresher attack on a Def 17 widowmaker.

Gram maneuvered while I pulled the WM from the right flank to the left. I wanted to bate him into a run across my front line, exposing his forces to my battle group. Instead, he ran both Argus onto the outcrop. I was pretty sure I had the game won at this point since it looked like butcher could walk over and wipe both doggies handily. Butch wiped the first pup only to find that he was just out of melee range for the second. I knew I’d over extended him, but I was pretty sure I could get him out of the situation. Yuri walked over the hill again and slashed the remaining Argus without killing it. The manhunter ran around Butcher to block charge lanes from the warpwolf. Widowmakers turned to cover my front line while the jacks moved up to maximize their next turn. I knew I was in trouble, but I figured there was only so much he could do.

Gram checked range and found that the Argus was out of Baldur’s control area. Doggy passed his threshold check. Baldur cut for 4, cast earth spike, crit knocked down Butcher, man hunter, and Yuri, stupid medium based warcaster. Argus, no longer engaged, walked over and combo struck Butcher for 30+ damage. @@###!!!!! Lord of the feast shot, scored, and teleported in. He swung leaving butcher at 2 and killed the man hunter who was blocking the warpwolf. The warp wolf activated, chose speed, charged, and swung for lethal.

Game 2, Baldur with authority.



Game 3:

Gram and Nate were done for the day, leaving Jason and me to go head-to-head. I took PButcher, a Kodiak, a Decimator, a war dog, and a unit of widow makers. He took Siege Brisbane, a charger, a defender, a unit of stormblades, and Eiryss 1.

He won the roll off and chose to go first. His battle group spread out across the far side with Siege slightly to the right of the central craters and the stormblades off to the left. I decided to refuse flank and set up my force in the left corner. He put Eiryss as far forward in front of me as possible. I knew from last time that the charger would be a problem and the defender…well that just wasn’t going to be fun. Siege is a lot like PSorscha in that you know the feet is coming. You can bate it, try and wait it out, or work around it. If you live in fear of the event you’ll just play into your opponent’s strategy. I decided to try for door number 3.

Turn 1, Jason moved his battle group toward the center of the board, the storm blades advanced to confront me, and Eiryss moved up a little looking for her moment. I consolidated and pushed hard toward the stormblades and Eiryss. I couldn’t afford to leave them in my rear. The butcher put iron flesh on the widow makers hoping that defense 17 would work for a second game. The next two turns saw the WM kill off 4 stormblades only to be wiped out by the defender and charger in retaliation. The decimator got the fifth stormblade with his cannon. Gram charged the decimator with the remaining stormblade.

Life got interesting when Eiryss managed to disrupt the Butcher. I looked at the board and figured I had to kill the elf or spend the rest of the game disrupted. The Butcher countercharged Eiryss but missed his attack. The Kodiak walked over and vented steam leaving a very satisfyingly cooked mage hunter corpse. The decimator killed the final stormblade with a single unboosted swipe.

I was left with a mostly untouched battle group and a war dog VS. Siege with an unspent feet and 2 unscratched ranged jacks. I’ve played this game with Cygnar before. You ding around waiting for that perfect moment. While you’re trying to set up your ideal caster kill, they take you apart at range—not this time. I guestimated range and figured I had game on the charger. Butcher allocated 3 focus to the decimator, popped his feet, and cast full throttle. The decimator activated, checked range, and was .5 inches short. @@@####! I moved to protect butcher with the Kodiak but there was nothing I could do for the decimator.

Siege activated, popped feet, and combined fire with his battle group to ding the Kodiak and wreck the decimator. The Kodiak advanced and vented steam, completely blocking line of sight to the butcher. Next turn Jason was going to try and maneuver a long shot on the butcher until I reminded him that the Kodiak was a viable target inside the cloud affect. He proceeded to strip most of the Kodiak’s grid, but left me enough to move up and continue blocking line of sight—venting steam one last time. The war dog ran up and engaged the charger. Siege and company pushed up. They had a concealment shot on butcher but opted to finish off the Kodiak and the war dog instead.

We checked, and with the cloud of steam expired, butcher had a clear charge lane to the defender who was in line of sight to and base to base with Siege. Butcher charged, wacked the defender with his initial, bought a second attack, missed, bought two more attacks and cut siege in half.

Game 3, Butcher—barely.



Things I learned:

1. I need to be very careful regarding order of operations. I need to make sure to try the risky thing first so that if it doesn’t come out well I still have activations to cover my mistakes.

2. There is a big difference between charge range, melee range, and total threat range. I knew this before—but losing a few charges has highlighted the need to be more precise in my estimations.

3. Widow makers are freaking awesome. I knew they were good before but under iron flesh let alone in cover…they bad. Range 14 on a high defense good rat unit is spec-tac-u-lar. I’m going to have to try them out with my newly painted marksman.

4. As with Sorscha, I really have to pay more attention when popping the big guy’s feet. I realize that in larger games this won’t be as much of an issue, but in both of the above games, I over estimated my units’ threat range. In game 1 it was almost a total loss. In game 2 it did nothing. Screw inches, quarter inches matter…a lot.

5. I’m wondering if the Kodiak’s armored fists shield bonus gets added before or after Siege’s feet. If so, that last game might have gone differently.

6. Speaking of which, the Kodiak is a serious work horse. It blocks, it clobbers, it par-boils. I’ve always thought it was one of the most under rated jacks—now even more so.

7. Two games is not a representative sample. That said, the war dog may not be showing up again in smaller games. In game 2, I could have swapped him with Yuri for another manhunter and a marksman. I think I would have gotten more out of that pairing.



September is the last game of this league season. Hopefully I’ll have at least my shock troopers and MOW Kovnick ready for that one. This once a month thing is just the right pace to start out. I’m getting to play enough that its fun while infrequently enough that the anticipation is high when I walk in the door.



Courtesy of Pandora, I’ve settled on a theme song for this army:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YAnjfIMAl20

Set’s the right tone.

A review of mimic miniatures

Last year I discovered an intriguing kickstarter campaign. The concept was simple. Backers would send in pictures of themselves. The company would scan the images and 3d print the resulting composite features onto one of their custom models. My wife and I collect minis, play lots of miniature games, and play RPGs that use character figures. The idea of playing games with truly personal avatars was an instant hit. We pledged $200 for 10 30mm figures. This was a significant commitment; but one that seemed in line with the product’s boutique niche.


I did some research and found that this was the project creator’s second attempt funding this concept. He had a mixed record in the gaming community—several over hyped ideas that were not as big as the marketing suggested, but in general he seemed on the up-and-up. The project generated a lot of noise between con appearances, fan referrals, and an aggressive marketing campaign by industry figures. Between that public presence and Rich’s prompt responses to our questions, I figured that the campaign had to be a genuine offering. MM closed October first, 2013 with 482 backers pledging $31,408 of the $5,000 goal. The tentative completion date was pegged for December—just in time for the holidays.

Months passed. We received updates regarding the production process, the challenge of scanning 400+ orders, and general delays. Needless to say, the Christmas deadline most backers had hoped for wasn’t met. This wasn’t entirely unexpected. Project creators often underestimate the amount of effort required to bring their ideas to fruition. This is particularly true for over-funded campaigns like MM. Backers didn’t have a lot of information at this point, but the communication frequency and content left us pretty sure that something was going on even if the train was behind schedule.

Then January turned into February which turned into March. Inconsistencies began to crop up in the increasingly scarce updates. Mimic Miniatures had the means to scan and upload our images but didn’t even have a cell phone camera to take pictures of the first run. MM declined to address several pointed backer comments and requests for clarification. Boardgame Geek, one of the premiere gaming forums, hosted dueling negative reviews while Rich claimed that MM was simply experiencing technical problems and would honor all pledges. My wife and I were told on three occasions that our minis were in the next run, would go out as soon as he got a new printer, and would be mailed in the next week or two.

Finally, models began to ship. We received our miniatures in June—six months after the expected completion date, but within tolerable kickstarter limits as such things go. The figures were supported on three sides by resin filaments which connected to smooth segments of the production material. I assume this was an artifact of the 3d printing process. In affect each figure came in its own personalized phone booth.



Pros:

• The figures lacking helmets and hats clearly showed my jaw line and hair.

• The models were generally what we had ordered.



Cons:

• Several of the models were sculpted in such a way as to leave no visible facial detail. There was no way to tell that the model represented a specific person.

• Eight of our ten models bore no specific resemblance to their subjects. This was in part due to the fact that MM used stock hair styles in the fulfillment process. It wasn’t that the models were bad per say; it was more that between an indeterminate hair style and lack of distinctive features the models had nothing to distinguish themselves.

• The sculpts lacked fine detail. Eye shape, small carried items, and mouths were either cursorily sculpted or not present at all.

• The figures were printed using a very brittle resin. Limbs and hand held items were exceedingly easy to break off through casual handling.



I give the project a C- over all. The communication was atrocious—no question. However, I got what I ordered. Customer service and delays aside, the transaction completed.

On the one hand, at 30mm scale, there’s only so much detail a model can hold. Picking an affordable printer, finding a printing medium that will stand up to table play while holding detail, and building a computer model to process the orders isn’t easy. Building a production cycle for thousands of individually customized figures is a labor worthy of Hercules. This project was a test run of a new business model. The campaign ended with a ruff manufacturing process in place. There were some major failures, but that’s what a test run is for.

On the other hand, there were three areas where MM could have done better without sticking it to backers. First, the wrong expectation was set from the beginning. Backers never got to see the unfinished product. The only images available to the public were professionally painted models. Had there been pictures of the newly printed sculpts, I feel backers would have been happier with their minis despite the excessive flash involved. Painted models do not give an accurate impression of material, sculpting, and printing quality. Rather, they unreasonably inflate the public’s expectations. A time lapse video showing a figure from image, to printing, to assembly, to painting, and finally to arrival on a gaming table would have acted as a marketing tool while giving backers clear and accurate expectations.

Second, the stated intent of this campaign was to put recognizable likenesses on miniatures. The expectation was that the associated sculpts were designed with that in mind. Several of the sculpts, the noble in my case, were built in such a way as to completely obscure facial detail. This is a fundamental design failure. All sculpts should have been designed to provide clear facial visibility even if the model was wearing a hat, helmet, hood…etc. Even excepting poor model design, 80% of our models could only vaguely be identified as their intended subject. I can’t count that as a win.

Third, the communication for this project was at best unintentionally misleading. At worst backers were shamelessly deceived on a regular basis. Deadlines and promises were broken without apology or follow up. Several claims were trotted out which were impossible to take seriously. Simple reasonable concerns were left unaddressed. What was said in public often didn’t hold water in private. Nobody likes to hear that their order has been delayed months past the advertized delivery date. However, people can be tolerant, provided they are treated with respect and deference. That didn’t happen and my impression of Rich suffered accordingly.

In conclusion, despite numerous communication issues, I received my backer rewards. The quality wasn’t up to the advertized standard—though given the nature of kickstarter I can forgive most of that. I am satisfied. That said, I am unlikely to do business with Rich Nelson or any of his associated ventures in the future.

Thoughts on PSorscha and a tactica

Note that the following are my opinions. Your mileage may vary. Feedback and heckling are welcome.




I have mixed feelings concerning PSorscha. On the one hand she’s a hell of an assassination threat. She’s fast, has a great feet, and definitely brings the noise. On the other hand, she’s a high defense squishy warcaster in a faction that favors beat stick melee powerhouses—and then there’s the matter of her older colder version. I can’t pick up her new model without remembering her younger days.

A decade ago a friend said he had a surprise for me. He pushed three models across my kitchen table…two red metal robots and an axe wielding ice queen. We spent the next few months slugging it out between my Khador and his Cygnar battle box. I fell in love with the Motherland when I took a sip of bourbon and said for the first time “Sorscha pops her feet and…” Sorscha wasn’t just defined by her feet; her feet made her the bar by which I measured all comers. She froze everything in her control area. Back then there was no way to shake stationary affects. She would walk up, pop feet, freeze everything within her control area regardless of line of sight, and use tempest to knock things down. Then she, the destroyer, a hand cannon, or possibly a raiser wind would drop on your caster. If you survived that, the next turn you stood there and did nothing. Then, with your pieces still knocked down, you’d watch while Sorscha’s entire army unloaded for a second turn—terminating your warcaster with extreme prejudice. It was the single most ball bustingly hard core feet in the game. Sorscha wasn’t just a faction defining model; she set the standard for bad ass. Khador dominated the Gencon national tournaments with variants on that strategy over and over again…feet, knock down, kill caster. She was so good that I felt bad playing her against all but my most competitive adversaries.

Now a days, freezing the enemy battle group is not as game breakingly harsh as it once was. The line of sight restriction and the ability to spend focus to unfreeze and stand up renders icy gaze powerful but tolerable—certainly you can’t expect 2+ rounds of uncontested action any more. Never the less, playing Sorscha in MKII feels like going back to your home town and finding out that the captain of the football team who used to give you swirlies, take your lunch money, and steal your girlfriend is now the guy manning the drive through window at McDonalds. You don’t want him back the way he was…but it steals the mythic proportions from your nostalgia.

Sorscha is still all about her feet—especially under 35 points. There are a couple reasons for this. First, she brings very little qualitative enhancement for her forces. Fog of war is nice, especially if you have camouflage, but it suffers from the double edged sword of affecting all models regardless of faction. PButcher and PVlad are fantastic casters because they can not only throw the opposing caster into the hurt locker with authority, they also offer excellent support spells—signs and portents, wind wall, full throttle, fury, and iron flesh. They make already good units amazing while simultaneously posing major threats on their own—and that’s not even taking their feets into account. Sorscha can set up attacks with freezing grip and tempest, but she doesn’t boost Khador’s specialties to epic levels or gloss over its weaknesses. Further, setting up those attacks requires her squishy 14 armor base to be dangerously forward. On average she’ll die to 2 attacks worth 45 boxes (essentially 2 unboosted P+S 15 hits.) The upshot is that there’s Sorscha and there’s her army. Outside her feet, the rest of your points are on their own.

Second, the ice queen is greedy. She wants to throw down wind rush, tempest, boosted hand cannon shots, multiple critical freeze generating reach attacks, and boundless charges at ridiculous distances. Every once in a while she’ll have a focus or two to throw at a jack or boundless charge a model; but those are the exceptions not the rule. She doesn’t “share” well.” So between her lack of support spells and a dearth of spare focus, her two defining characteristics are her feet and her speed—which is simply a vehicle for delivering the feet in the first place.

If you accept these limitations, PSorscha is actually a decent warcaster. She won’t be supporting a huge battle group; but then most of Khador’s warcasters prefer taking a single quality jack anyway. Khador has some excellent jack Martials—Sorscha likes delegating to them more than most is all. I prefer taking focus efficient jacks with her when not marshaling. Anything with free run/charge is helpful. The Kodiak is an excellent choice with free run, pathfinder, the ability to threaten massed infantry with vent steam, LOS blocking cloud affect, and a chain attack which auto triggers on her feet turn.

Sorscha operates best on the theory that the best defense is a strong offense. Her spells and mobility predispose her to a front line role. You can use wind rush to advance, act, and then retreat, but at some point you’re going to need to freeze/knock down something that will require her to extend into risky territory. Thus, she likes infantry that are independent, can make use of her feet turn, and that keep constant pressure on the enemy. The winter guard deathstar is an obvious candidate, but certainly not the only one. I like widow makers with marksman, gray lord outriders, gun carriage, MOW Kovnicks, man hunters, and the elf to start. These models force your opponent to either play defensively or take heavy casualties.

It’s tempting to build an all ranged, all melee, or similarly hyper focused force to maximize the benefit of icy gaze. This is a mistake—especially as point values increase. Skillful players will deploy in such a way as to limit Sorscha’s pre-feet movement and line of sight while maximizing counter charge lanes and fields of fire. You are better off building an army which does its own heavy lifting—using icy gaze to swing the tempo at key points, capitalize on an opponent’s error, or force your opponent into sub optimal model placement in order to minimize its impact. In this way the threat of icy gaze can be of more use than its execution—either your opponent deploys to minimize IG’s affect or they risk disproportionate losses.

So let’s talk about icy gaze. I think of Sorscha’s feet thusly. “Once per game, Sorscha can threaten up to 19 inches. At certain points in that movement she will make every enemy model within LOS and 12 inches easier to hit.” Some models are immune to cold. Models with focus/fury can shake off stationary. Some casters like Harkevich have spells that completely negate IG past your turn. Because of this I celebrate the games where Sorscha lets me run amok for two turns—but I don’t count on it. If Sorscha is popping her feet it’s because I’ve found an assassination lane or because doing so will let me permanently swing the correlation of forces in my favor. You use icy gaze to make sure victory is a foregone conclusion on your own turn or you don’t use it at all. In most cases the feet comes out to set up an assassination.



The process runs something like this:

1. I remind myself that I am in control of when the ice queen makes her move. Bating Sorscha is a time honored sport raised to an art form by experienced players. The longer you go without popping icy gaze, the more you want to. I start every turn asking myself, “can I win the game with Sorscha this turn?” If not, no feet.

2. I measure her control area. Sorscha’s charge range is 6 movement+3 charge+2 reach=1 inch less than her control radius. Any model completely within her control radius is within her reach.

3. I assess lines of sight, relative distances out to 19 inches, and difficult terrain. If completing an assassination charge is going to go through terrain then I’ll need to cast boundless charge. If I don’t start my turn with LOS to the opposing caster, then the rest of my army needs to make a road or I am going to need to use wind rush to reposition. If the target is outside my control radius, then I’ll need wind rush to put me in range. Note that the riskiest feet turn is one where you use wind rush and boundless charge. You’ll spend 2/3 of her focus getting to the target—seriously reducing her destructive output.

4. I use wind rush if necessary. If yes, then I check her control radius again. Even if she has to use boundless charge, her maximum range is 1 inch beyond her zone. Before committing to the charge I want to be absolutely sure that her target is in range.

5. Boundless charge if required. If not, charge.

6. Feet. Note that you always want to pop before the charge if it will catch more models in Sorscha’s LOS.

7. Attack. On average boosting damage is only worthwhile if your target is arm 17 or greater. Most of the time you’ll be better off buying extra attacks.



Sometimes you’ll need to set up another model, one of your jacks usually, because Sorscha doesn’t have the stromf to finish the job. It’s critically important that you figure out if you can get to the target on the assassination turn as well as if you can take them down once you get there. You need means and opportunity; because if you don’t finish the job on her feet turn, Sorscha is toast.

Back in the saddle with Warmachine

It’s funny how things come full circle. Alternate worlds used to be the center of my gaming world. Thanks to a persistent outrider, I got suckered into their weekly GW sessions, eventually becoming one of the store regulars. That lasted for a couple years, until GW opened a store nearby and stole most of the action. Over time I drifted away from AW. I liked the store, the people, and the players; I just didn’t have much reason to visit. The only time I darkened their door was to pass a few minutes waiting for my number to be called at the haircuttery. Then a couple years ago MQ asked me to pair off for one of alternate worlds’s two headed giant tournaments. The experience was so much of a hit that we’ve been informally rocking the 2hg scene ever since. Back in May, while we were playing in a sealed tournament, I walked over to one of the miniature gaming tables between rounds. The store was hosting a once a month war machine/hordes league—the sound of which drew me as the moth to the proverbial flame. I spent my down time heckling, helping a newer player with the basics of fury management vs. focus, and basking in the aura of actual miniatures on the table.

The league manager encouraged me to come back and join the next round. I said, truthfully, that while I was interested, I hadn’t played a real game of warmahordes in almost seven years. Cherylkat and Corc had played a few sample matches with me, but nothing that left me feeling even mildly proficient. I felt self-conscious. I’ve kept up with the MKII rules in a general sense but my play skills have definitely lapsed. The League manager, a store employee by the name of Jason, pointed out that they had people who played their first game of warmahordes—ever in that month’s league. That took the sting out of my objection. I decided to give it a try. I’ve wanted to get back into miniature gaming for a while. Starting in a league within walking distance was as good an opportunity as I could have asked for.

I’ve spent the last two months reviewing the rules, getting my play kit together, and working with Deathquaker to get my army painted. I picked up a battle foam army transport. I collected a selection of counters, measuring tools, and objectives. I read strategy articles. Mostly I dreamed of the day when once again I would take to the field of honor.

July sixth, I hiked up the hill for my first day back on the wagon. When someone says “league” I imagine a group of 20+ players, some veteran, some learning, and some fresh behind the ears. AW’s league consists of about six players including the employee sponsor. I walked in and found that the only players were Jason and another new-guy who I had previously arranged to sell my ill-fated Vlad force. We paid our entry fee, concluded our business, and set up a 4x6 table for some battle box learning.

I have a lot of theoretical experience with the current rule set. While I haven’t played in years, I’ve kept up with the forums and releases. So, While I wasn’t the person to teach advance tactics, I felt qualified to walk Nate, the other player, through his first game. He opted for the standard Khador battle box—Sorcha, Destroyer, and Juggernaught. I took my default league starter, The Butcher, a decimator, and a Kodiak.



Game 1:

Given our lack of recent experience, we opted for a clear board with no terrain. This approach has drawbacks, but it lets you learn the basic mechanics without having to worry about lines of sight, difficult terrain, and deployment preference. It’s a good teaching method for a player’s first few games. Nate got the high roll and chose first turn. We set up in mirror configurations—with our casters an inch or two behind our jacks pushing the front edge of our deployment zones. I set up directly across from his forces—insuring that this would be a quick game.

Turn 1, we ran our jacks and cast upkeep spells. Turn 2, we took pot shots at each other. Turn 3, we engaged. Sorcha froze my army. Her battle group took some whacks at me but couldn’t make it to Butcher. Butcher stood up, unfroze himself, popped feet, charged Sorcha, and broke the ice queen with his first 5d6 damage roll. Game 1, butcher.



Game 2:

As this was supposed to be a learning experience, we decided to switch armies. Wielding the butcher is kind of like driving a SUV—you know you’re one of the biggest baddest things around. On the other hand, looking across the table at the butcher is a lot like standing on the third rail in front of an oncoming subway—you know damned well that if you don’t do something quick you’re going to take a whole lot of physics to the face.

We set up in more or less the same configuration as the previous game. I won the roll-off and went first. Round 1 and 2 went exactly the same as before. In this situation you are almost always going to run your jacks and cast your spells followed by a turn of pre-contact positioning. Turn 3, I did the math and found that butcher sitting at arm 22 with 4 focus camped was essentially unkillable unless sorcha punched way above the bell curve. I allocated 3 focus to my juggy, popped the butcher with a raiser wind and a boosted hand cannon shot and ended Sorcha’s activation. I activated the juggernaut, checked distance, and found I was just out of charge range. Nate allocated focus to his Kodiak, unfroze butcher, cast full throttle, popped his feet, and charged my poor juggy. The Kodiak unfroze, charged Sorcha, and crushed her like a beer can with its first attack. Game 2, Butcher.



My opponent had to leave at that point. We shook hands and agreed to face off in the next event. While we were playing, one of the customers walked around the table—asking questions and expressing interest. I offered to play a battle box game with him. I was happy to run a demo, especially since the only other potential opponent was Jason and he had a store to manage. The Demoee, Matt, selected the Cygnar box set as his preferred battle box after some lively discussion of faction characteristics. I returned my models to my deployment zone and prepared for war—again.



Game 3:

I love seeing an experienced strategist work their art on the field of honor. Matt hadn’t played warmachine before—but the man knew wargames. This was a long game—surprisingly so considering it was a demo. I cut my teeth back in MKI fighting Striker’s battle group back before escalation was published. I had no illusions that he was an easy mark. Striker isn’t the flashiest of the battle box casters. He is a solid all-round leader with a flexible toolbox and a balanced battle group. Sorcha has to either directly assassinate striker or attrition his battle group to the point where she can pin him down. Between knockdown, disruption, arm/def enhancement, snipe, ranged, melee—Striker covers all the bases.

Matt won the roll off and chose to go first. I set up off to the side—attempting to get Striker-and-CO to string out while wheeling to engage. That—didn’t work. Matt had clearly watched Sorcha pop her feet during my game with Nate and was wise to my plan. Matt advanced remorselessly, holding striker back behind his battle group while sniping with the charger.

What followed was a brutal back and forth. The charger hit Sorcha with a boosted shot while the ironclad and lancer mixed it up with the juggernaut. I feeted early trying to break his iron wall but rolled poorly on the subsequent damage. Matt did a great job using models to block charge lanes and LOS. I finally managed to maneuver a charge with Sorcha. She wind rushed, stepped up to the plate, boosted, and whiffed. I bought another attack, boosted, and whiffed again. I bought a third attack, boosted, and hit for less damage than I needed. Striker activated and administered final justice. Game 3, Striker.



These were fun games. Not only did I get three solid games under my belt; but both of my opponents walked away talking about buying additional models—good for the league and good for the store. I enjoyed the simple low-variable battle box format. It was a nice way to get my toes wet.



Things I learned:

1. I need to work on my positioning and threat range estimation. These are fundamental play skills—ones that I took for granted back when I was playing competitively. I used to do this kind of thing on auto pilot—making the right decisions without a lot of thought. Now I’ll have to pay a lot more attention to the basics.

2. Sorcha has evolved to a very different kind of caster than I used to play back in MKI. The ability to shake stationary and knockdown with focus (icy gaze and tempest) fundamentally changes the way she is played. I could write a tactica on the issue at this point. Suffice it to say that you don’t have 2+ rounds of free action any more. In battle box games, you need to pop the feet only when you’re making an assassination run. Sorcha has one round to make her move—meaning she can’t afford to squander her feet.

3. People say power 12 kills casters. Playing the beet stick faction, I haven’t run into that much…until now. Look at you little charger all grown up. The charger can kill Sorcha in one round with 2 moderate boosted shots. That plus snipe is terrifying.

4. The butcher has changed a lot since his original incarnation. He’s no longer a solo who happens to pull a jack or two along with him. He has, and I still can’t believe I’m saying this, become more of a support caster who just happens to be able to wreck face. I picked PButcher as my main caster namely due to his theme force—which looked like a good balanced vehicle to re-learn the game on. The more I read about him, play him, and see him played, the more I like him. The Butch finally has game as more than a 6 focus solo.

5. I’m going to spend some more time on boxed games. There was a time when battle box games were for demos. After playing three consecutive iterations of Khador, Cygnar, and a modified league build for butcher, I really like the changes PP has made to the boxed battle groups. I need more practice regardless, but the fact that there is now a real challenge to the process is nice.

The Petty Things

I find myself second guessing my instincts lately. As our circle of friends has grown, matured, and evolved, it has become increasingly difficult to navigate the unspoken perils of social expectation. Some friends don’t play well with large groups. Some friends have issues with other friends. Some friends have kids. Some friends don’t drive. Some friends pay their own way. Some friends pay for nothing. Some people can be trusted to tactfully avoid complications. Some friends are nothing but drama. Some people want someone else to initiate contact. Other people will let you know if and when they want to share their valuable time. I used to think I was at least competent to handle my own social schedule—lately I’m not so sure.


Social obligation is the fine art of keeping relationships in balance. It’s not polite to talk about this sort of thing but everyone thinks about it. That couple always shorts their share when we eat out. That guy always makes us drive an extra hour to pick him up. We never get invited to that group’s poker night. She always invites herself to our private get togethers. I stopped trying to make everyone happy a long time ago. The truth is that my private life is my private life—socially or otherwise. I’m not required to invite everyone to everything, attend every event I hear about, or cater to everyone’s whims. That being said, part of good friendship is making sure the scales are balanced. Part of that comes from making sure that you are giving equal value in a relationship. Part of it is being tactful and considerate when planning events where select people are welcome. Part of it is also making sure that you aren’t putting your friends and family in a difficult position. Put that way it looks easy. Don’t screw your friends and family over.

Of course, such issues are rarely 100% within your control. It’s very easy to say or do something that makes perfect sense at the time but that ends up ticking people off later. So far, I’ve written off exactly one friendship in almost 40 years. The person in question exploited my naivety in a very personal and hurtful manner. It took them one really thoughtless moment to end everything. Most of the time though you can’t point to one single event and say “that’s the one, that’s where we went wrong.” You make a small error in judgment one day—then an acquaintance does something without thinking that pushes your buttons. It piles up bit by bit. The straw doesn’t break the camel’s back, but the hay bale will flatten the beast if you let it.

I suppose I take this more seriously in part because I rely on friends and family. The brunette and I take pride in our independence. We try to handle as much of our own upkeep as we can without assistance. Some things however, are simply easier with sighted help. Both of us have been in the uncomfortable position of having to ask friends, family, and coworkers to do something they clearly don’t want to do. Just like we’re not supposed to talk about the relative debt levels in a relationship you aren’t supposed to say no to a blind person. That particular convention sucks. At any given time the party on the other side says quite truthfully, that yes they’ll be happy to drive you to that appointment, help you go shopping, fill out your paperwork, go through your mail…etc. But ask for the third time in one week and it starts to feel less like a favor for a friend and more like using someone who can’t politely decline. When most of your social interactions come with a helping of accommodation in the first place, it makes you sensitive about taking advantage. Years ago, a friend would throw a party once a year. I think we were invited to the event more out of habit than anything else—a holdover from earlier days. The catch was that the event in question was held at the friends’ home which was many butt longs away. The host’s solution was to invite another friend of ours with the expectation that she would provide us transportation. This was a huge imposition for the driving friend—we weren’t anything close to on her way, the hosting friend wasn’t a really close friend to begin with, and there was a feeling of implied obligation in the invitation. The situation put us at odds with two people we respected. Not going to the party would slight one friend. Guilt tripping the other friend would have simply transferred the hurt feelings to a different party. When I first started with the bank some of my coworkers were asked to give me rides to and from work. Most of the time this practice was fine…until it wasn’t and a coworker couldn’t tell his friend that it wasn’t convenient to cart his sightless butt around every day. Experiences like this rammed the concept home to me that friendship is a two way street. I’m not paranoid about the balance of obligation exactly; but I am very aware of where the scales stand.

It’s tempting some times, especially if you’re in a pissy mood to begin with, to start assessing relationships on a transactional scale. How much drama does that person create for me? Do they mooch off me all the time? Do I owe them for the last range trip? In almost every case the brunette and I find that we end up on the owing end of that scale. We don’t sit down with a spreadsheet and tally our obligations every day. We are simply aware of the fact that part of being friends with us involves driving us places, reading things, and helping with certain visual activities. We understand that our friends take that as a given just like we accept their particular quirks. The issue being that lately I’ve seen a lot of little negative transactions that have put me in that pissy mood.

I don’t want to be that person who is always keeping score. You know who I’m talking about—the relative who knows who brought cups to the last three family dinners or the friend who remembers who gave Christmas presents last year and for what value. That’s a mean petty sort of life. Part of this comes down to the fact that I spend most of my life in balance. When I end up genuinely feeling like someone has crossed a line it really sticks in my craw. After that point I start amortizing every little thing. It’s hard to have fun when you live like that.

We went tubing with a group of friends and family recently. It was a really great experience. I haven’t been swimming in fresh water in forever. I really, really, love swimming in the outdoors. We had a few drinks, played around, and had about as close to a perfect day as you could ask for. Unfortunately before we got to the tubing part, there were delays, complications, and changes in schedule.” I spent about three hours pre-river in a really grumpy mood; not because I had that much to be grumpy about but because the process of having “fun” had become more complicated than it should have been. If I had just sat back, took a deep breath, turned up the music, and let it go, it all would have been fine. I didn’t—and for my sins I wasted a good three hours of my life and probably spread my annoyance to the other people in the car.

My point is that I need to stop sweating the petty things. I need to make sure my end of the scale is balanced and beyond that, try and let things go. Also, I need to start taking a few steps to minimize the aggravation in my life. To that end:

1. When planning an event I will be specific as to time, date, scope, who is invited, and who is not invited. Even if I think I know the answer I will clarify.

2. Wherever possible I will get the “who’s paying” discussion out of the way up front. This includes asking for separate checks and talking about who is paying for range time.

3. My response to invitations that I cannot accept is going to be that “Unfortunately I/we won’t be able to attend.” There will be no mention of money, contributing factors, or alternate plans.

4. I am going to start holding people accountable for doing and saying things that are clearly not appropriate when they make my life more difficult. Suffering in silence doesn’t help either of us. I can’t complain if I don’t give them the chance to correct the issue.

5. To the best of my ability I am going to try and be a polite person. If someone else has an issue with my choices, I won’t try and force the discussion. It’s up to them to talk to me—not the other way around.



Note: If you’re reading this and thinking that you are in any way responsible for this post, please be advised that you are mistaken. This raving discourse is the product of *many* small interactions with a variety of people over the last month—most of whom don’t even know I have a blog. I’m working things out—and you have nothing to worry about.

Home

When I think of home, I think of the house I grew up with in the North Carolina Mountains. I think of my grand parents’ sprawling New Jersey property where we spent many happy Christmases as kids. Home is where the memories are.


Saturday we had a few people over for our first try at zombies keep out. The board game features the players as goblin mechanics attempting to defend their workshop from a horde of shambling undead. At the beginning of your turn you draw a bad things happen card and pick one of three options—adding zombies to the board, advancing the shambling masses or taking a bite token. The active player then can draw two new cards, attack the zombies, work on building a machine, repair the barricades, or my favorite “push button!” Most communal tower defense games I’ve played come down to one player planning everyone else’s moves while everyone else ends up just following directions. ZKO is unusual in that the active player tells the group which bad thing they chose and what they did, but not what the options were. You can, and we did, play open hand, but it’s discouraged. You are playing as individuals for the most part.

The genius of the game comes in two parts. First, Privateer Press clearly meant the game to ape goblin bodgers from their war machine setting. I can’t help but think of short minions puttering around their workshop, muttering in squeaky voices, while devising steam punk tech. The concept is very light hearted—a tone which the mechanics support. Second, as you take bite tokens, the rules limit the kinds of actions you can take and force you to talk differently—in effect mimicking your progression into zombieism. With one token you slur your words. With two tokens you grumble and mush mouth your words. With three tokens all you can do is grunt and moan. At this stage you don’t get to pick what happens on the terrible things card, you just hold up 1, 2, or 3 fingers, turn the card over, and perform the associated action. At 4 tokens you become a zombie, can only moan, and draw 2 terrible thing cards instead of taking your turn.

PP hit a home run with this game. It has lots of strategic choices—real choices that have lasting value. It has an evolving game state from turn to turn so there isn’t always a clear right choice in every given situation. Especially given the tactical complexity, the game’s scope is simple. This means you have fun, feel like you’re contributing, and don’t have to think too hard.

We got hopped up on sugar and played through a full game in about three hours. I did everything I could to go full on zombie. Others avoided bite tokens like the plague. What made it fun wasn’t just the game, but that all four of us stuck to our required voice limitations, even when not specifically playing. The resident four year old mocked us remorselessly. I clowned around a bit. We ended up laughing so hard and so long that my stomach hurt and my head began to ache. It was a fantastic evening.

Sunday, WMTrainguy, Ceri, and I went to the range so they could try out my two Colt .38s. I love those pistols. Sadly, times, needs, and the makeup of our collection have changed. They may or may not end up buying them, but sooner or later those old friends are going on the auction block, the revolvers not the friends. I hope they end up with someone who appreciates them. I spent a lot of time plinking, replacing the grips, polishing, and generally giving them the TLC they deserve. Guns are essentially tools for me. Their purpose is recreational; but they also have to fill a nitch in either my collector or preparedness plan. The brunette and I have moved to a magnum/big bore model—one where I don’t have need of the old Colts any more.

While my friends were assessing the desirability of my wheel-guns, I rented an S&W Governor. The Governor is Smith and Wesson’s answer to the Taurus judge—a 6 shot, ultra-light revolver that fires 410 shotgun shells, .45lc, or .45acp with moon clips. It has utility as a survival gun and self defense piece. Up until this rental I’d never shot one of these dual 410/.45 revolvers. I had a 325trr, but sold it after it became clear that without any other .45 moon clip guns, the revolver was more of a pain than a compliment to my collection. Now I wish I’d held on to it.

According to the rental clerk, the Governor I shot had barely been used. It had the classic smooth S&W take-up and reset. It also had the heaviest trigger pull of any revolver I’ve ever fired, including my old Ruger GP100. Recoil was…stout. With a rock-crushing grip flip was manageable but man, firing 2.5 410 buckshot loads, it felt like I was lighting off .44 magnum rounds. In single action it was reasonably accurate and controllable—pleasant after I got used to the recoil. In double action I had problems pulling the trigger without twisting the muzzle off-target due to the pull weight. I didn’t notice it as much when I dry fired the gun, but forcing myself to hold it on target meant double action was…challenging. The governor has been on my list for a while. It still is, though what I had considered a relatively low investment gun now looks like it will require some work to make it viable. That takes it from being a front line purchase to more of a want-for later item. It’s possible I’ll end up looking at the judge, something that I would have thought impossible a year ago.

After range time, we picked up E and the brunette and hit Ginza. Fifteen years ago a Japanese steak house wouldn’t have caught my eye. Now it’s one of our favorite eateries—friendly, entertaining, excellent food, and some of the best customer service I’ve ever had. The prices are reasonable too. E loved the show, including the initial burst of flame, as the cook flipped, diced, fried, mixed, and hammed it up for the audience. The brunette and I played games and read audio books for the rest of the day.

Monday, super mother in law drove up and exchanged her china cabinet, china, and crystal for our old wicker bar. Opening up the boxes we found pieces that the brunette played with as a kid. We talked about the history of the cabinet. We opened up several boxes of glass and crystal we received as wedding gifts—finally having a place to display them. I like nice things and three generations worth of china and crystal certainly qualifies. The big deal for me wasn’t the ooo shiny factor though; it was the feeling that with that family artifact in our living room, our apartment finally felt like a real home.

To me a home is a place where you, your family, and your friends can look back and remember shared fellowship. The couch may be second hand, but it’s where games have been played, movies have been watched, and spirited discussions have taken place. It isn’t just where you live, but a place with its own gravity. You can look at any college dorm room, bachelor pad, or basement apartment and see that it’s temporary. The furnishings may match, the walls may be hung with pictures, but something about the domicile says that the person is living there out of convenience—not putting down roots. Most of our furniture comes from cast offs and hand-me-downs. Even so, there’s something about the place that has become uniquely ours. It’s not just home any more, but a “Home”—with a capitol H.

Lists

I am in a list making mood. There are lots of things I’d like to write about, the 2016 election, gun control, perception, my weekend, but while the spirit is willing the creative juices are lacking. So, on to the project list. I have a lot of projects on tap. Some, such as my dragon storm plans, have been shelved awaiting more favorable circumstances. Others, like rebuilding the man-cave, need some key “thing” to happen. Others have just been set aside and never seem to get priority.




In no particular order, my current working list looks something like this:

• Clean up the man cave. Get rid of the extra furniture. Pick up some more shelving and work space.

• Switch my computer over to the new laptop I’ve had for the last year.

• Build a functional 50 point warmachine army with all the accessories, storage, models, and books.

• Flesh out our preparedness kit including further redundancy, personal protection, and medical training.

• Build a dedicated active shooter response kit.

• Complete work on my modular Ruger 10-22 takedown project.

• Complete work on my perfect pocket pistol project.

• Clean out the kitchen/bar area and consolidate. Reload and refill the bar spinner. Reorganize flatware for maximum use.

• Set a date for Deathquaker to base and varnish my 4th Indian army.

• Get my French FOW army painted and stored.

• Learn how to play poker at a base level. Run one small tournament for the friends group.

• Play through at least three full bloodbowl games. Acquire at least one assembled and painted team.

• Learn at least two new easily prepared health conscious dinner preparations.



This list is far from exhaustive. For my purposes a “project” is something with a simple clearly articulated goal—a readily achievable endgame. I have plenty of ideas, initiatives, plans, sitting on the back burner; but none of them have a visible victory condition. These are the front burner projects—the stuff I need to get done this year.

The limiting factor on half of these projects is money. The two firearm projects required $300-$400 each plus some quality time with a gunsmith. I’ve purchased the raw materials for the warmachine army—it only remains for me to get them painted and assembled. The preparedness kit and active shooter bag need components which I have to budget for. I have one bloodbowl team and will likely be picking up a few more. Part of my promise to myself is that before I take on new projects, I have to take care of my existing priorities. In some ways, budgeting for these projects has helped a lot. I’ve had to plan much more than in the past, but I expect to finish a lot more of my projects as well. Already, I’ve purchased all the raw materials to complete my warmachine army. Next on the list is my modular 10/22 project.

As for less resource intensive issues, I need to switch my computer over. That really needs to be my top priority. I’ve been ducking it for months because frankly, I don’t like change. I don’t want to have to learn a new operating system. So, by the end of June, I’ll be switched over, totally. This weekend I’ll start work on the man cave.

The challenge isn’t doing the tasks; most of them are relatively straight forward. The challenge is getting up the motivation to get started on the project in the first place—or getting started finishing them anyway. It always feels like I have 100 things to do and somehow these get set aside till last. That’s how I end up with a new laptop that I haven’t used in a year—well that and I don’t want to give up XP. They say writing something down increases motivation—here’s hoping.

The future of Gaming

The brunette and I like to game. We dabble in strategy miniatures, role-playing, accessible video games, forum gaming, board games, card games, play by emails—even app based games. We are very fortunate to have friends who share our various addictions. There is at least one other person in the larger friends group with an interest in whatever flavor of entertainment happens to catch our fancy. The devil is in the details. Work schedules change. Children have to be looked after. Previously inseparable friends decide they can’t stand the sight of each other. People move. Avid players fall out of love with gaming. There always seem to be as many reasons to sit down for a gaming session as there are challenges to doing so.


I’ve come to view the changing environment much like tidal ebb and flow—largely beyond my control. Fifteen years ago I was the person being suckered into everyone else’s hobbies. Now I’m the one hustling for compatriots. I find myself more and more often as the person expected to get the ball rolling. This is something of a mixed blessing. It’s great to be able to set the standard, to be a leader, and to run things the way I want them run. That said, it’s really annoying when you can’t build up enough interest for something you’re passionate about. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m not obligated to do all the work; but if I want to make something happen, it’s hypocritical to complain about the effort involved.

So, what to do? There are a lot of games on my plate. A brief list looks something like this:

1. Descent road to legend. Complete a full campaign.

2. Exalted 1st edition. (Run and Play.)

3. Exalted 3rd edition. (Run and play)

4. Hellas. (Run a full generational campaign.)

5. Warmachine (Play approximately three times a month.)

6. Hordes (Build an army and play three times a month.)

7. Iron Kingdoms Role-playing. (Get a regular group going more than once every two weeks.)

8. Flames of War. (Play at least once a month.)

9. Bloodbowl. (Run a group through several seasons.)

10. Dragon Dice. (Play at least once every two weeks on a somewhat competitive level.)

11. Dragon Storm. (Run, play, and create content on an ongoing basis.)

12. Dominion.(Play once a month)

13. Ascension.(Play twice a month)

14. WOW the board game.(Play once a month)

15. A variety of board games that are coming in through kick starter this year. (Play once a week for several months until I’m comfortable with them.)

16. Several apps for my iPhone. (play every day)

17. Magic the gathering. (Play once a week with a dedicated casual group.)

18. Warhammer 40k. (Play once every 2 weeks once they fix the freaking rules.)

19. Warhammer fantasy. (Play once a month once they fix the rules.)

20. Pathfinder. (Play at least once a month in an ongoing campaign.)

That is a lot of ground to cover. Fortunately I can narrow the list. Some of the items are already in process. Other items can’t or won’t be done. In order:

1. Pookah is the man with the plan when it comes to descent and WOW. I’ve mentioned several times that I want to play. He has been receptive. The issue is finding a regular time when 5-7 of us can get together outside his work schedule, kids, and life. He owns the games and has the most experience with them. I really want to play road to legend. It’s looking like the best plan may be to say let’s start somewhere in the morning and pull a marathon until everyone drops—I shall see what I can do. WOW can happen but falls under that same category of need 6+ hours to really saver the experience. This is one of those things that I’m sure will happen eventually—but I’m not holding my breath over.

2. Exalted is the single best fantasy game I have ever experienced. I want to run it only slightly less than I want to play it—which is a lot. It’s currently in a transitional stage. We kickstarted the hell out of the third edition. I am running a casual game now for a few people; but my hopes really rest upon third-ed. I want to recapture the wonder of the game, the beauty of the setting, the joy of a new game. Sadly, the group I ran for a few years ago fell apart due to external factors. I built for them I believe the best story of two decades of gming. Since then the magic has been—muted. I am up for exalted as always—but my dreams are on hold till third-ed hits the shelves.

3. If exalted is the best fantasy game, Hellas is the best sci-fi game. It seamlessly merges Greek and Roman myth, space opera, and epic storytelling into a tasteful package. I have been in first blush with it ever since one of the authors ran a starter game for me during my first gencon. I want to tell the story that the system was so beautifully designed to tell. I have not found the group I can trust with that dream yet. I need people willing to act, speak, and live in character. I need people who will set aside the in jokes, the cheap humor, and the tired tropes of classic gaming. I know fantastic role-players. Sadly, I have not seen the kind of group yet that will live up to my admittedly high expectations. This one goes on the back burner till our group changes or I build something fresh at the LGS.

4. Warmachine and Hordes are great games. They have all the classic markers I love about strategy miniatures—custom army building, decisive combat, and a fictional world worth the name. I’m currently planning on joining a new league at alternate worlds in July. Deathquaker is helping to finish up my forces. If things work out there, I’ll be looking at starting a hordes army—probably legion. I’d like to start common play there and at Titan, but not until I’ve gotten a better grip on the system. It’s been years since I’ve played any serious warmahordes. We’ll see if, after I’ve gotten my own skills up to competent levels, I can renew interest in our private group.

5. We’re currently playing a once-every-other-week game of Iron Kingdoms role-playing. The system is structured such that I could run it, but I really don’t want to handle the miniature side of things. I have the old D&D 3.0conversion books…which I can maybe see about putting together. The catch is that this newest version is just a better game. It has major problems—the combat system is ridiculous for one thing. Even so, I would much rather work with the newer game. The setting is more defined and the mechanics intentionally mimic the miniatures game. I’ll have to see where this campaign is going. I don’t think I can or would really want to have this group meet more than once every two weeks. Transportation time is too much. I can only get 5 hours of sleep before a Friday shift so many times before I start paying for it in productivity. After I play some more and get back into miniature gaming, perhaps my confidence level will increase to the point where I’ll be fine running this one.

6. Fow is not happening as often as I want. On the other hand, that’s my own damned fault. I currently only have one opponent. I could move to Titan for a shot at regular gaming and probably will try and do so next year. For now though, Wmtrainguy is it. Having to pick between FOW and bloodbowl plus other games is…challenging. I’d like to pick up a late war army, but I’m not playing enough as it is with the two huge early war armies I already have. This is one of those games that really is better the bigger you make it. The corollary is that the better the game is, the more time is required. So, while I’d like to game more, I’m ok with the current frequency provided I get some quality time in with my 15mm boys—so far, so good. It helps knowing that relief is within my reach.

7. I am slowly making my way into bloodbowl. In retrospect, it was only a matter of time. I’ve kickstarted a dwarf team and will be backing the artists future campaigns as well. My current intent is to play a few more games with wmtrainguy, read the rules a few more times, perfect the accessible interface we’ve been working on, get a team or two painted, and start a league next year after the holidays end. Whether that ends up at Titan or in our private group remains to be seen. I don’t know how many people actually can follow through with in-person play. I’m taking the long view on this one. Like warmachine, it’s worth waiting until I have the resources to do the hobby justice. Too early and I’ll likely just start a flash in the pan.

8. Dragon Dice has problems. It’s one of those games that looks simple, fun, and low intensity from the outside. From the inside, true competitive play with the current rules is an exercise in rules-lawyer-fu. I really like the game. To get more than three of us on board though I’m going to have to take the lead. Whether that ends up meaning we run from our apartment or we start up something at an LGS will depend on interest levels. We’ll definitely be running an event later this year for our friends. I’m not sure how much traction another “collectable” game will have with this group. Regardless, pushing the game locally and writing a functional version of the rules is on my list of things to do this year.

9. Dragon Storm is…complicated. I can and probably will write a dedicated article on the subject. Currently, a few people have taken over production of cards and con-pimpping the game. They are doing the best they can. Despite my frustration, I appreciate what they’re doing. The challenge is that in the last year and a half since Mark’s tragic passing, our online community has died. Part of that is certainly uncertainty over the game’s future. Part of it is that many of us were vested contributors and have been shut out—killing much enthusiasm. I’m not sure what to do with/about DS. It is a great game. I’ve spent thousands of dollars and hours on it. It deserves…something. I’m just not sure how much energy I want to commit to it at this point. I have so many projects on tap right now, that I’m not sure how much I want to risk. I’ll be buying the new sets. I may run a few games. The last three times I’ve offered to run, I haven’t even been able to get 3 players together. So, a lot will depend on how the cost-benefit analysis goes after future attempts. This may be one of those games like Hellas that I set aside until a better opportunity shows up.

10. I really like board games. Thanks to friends, I’ve been exposed to several varieties of table-licious offerings. There’s the new version of ascension. There’s dominion. There’s all the games that my friends have that I don’t. There’s all the games we’ve kickstarted, combat kittens, iron and ale, foretold rise of a god, the ancient world, apex theropod, St. Petersburg, and super tooth. We’ve backed accessible updates to existing games. We’ll probably back more games. The challenge is to find regular participants. Ok, it’s not that much of a challenge. Say then that the challenge is getting enough people’s schedules to mesh that one can get the full experience. The trick is apparently to pick a date and give enough notice that you get a large enough response. Too often and it looses its novelty. Too short notice and people won’t have availability. The answer seems to be to host a session once every 3-6 weeks. That’s not often enough but honestly, given how many other hobbies I have to indulge, it will do.

11. I’m not sure whether iPhone games are a blessing or a curse. They are fun. They are convenient. They are really distracting. I’d like something I can play. I’d like something I don’t have to play all-the-time. I’d like something that I can play all-the-time if I so wish. I’m going to be going through applevis.com looking for accessible games that may keep my interest. The balance of fun to leave me enough willpower to not suck my life away will be a factor.

12. Magic the gathering was one of my most favorite games ever. I’d still be collecting and playing were it not for the complete evaporation of all casual play in my area. I could easily try for standard tournaments at AW and Titan, but casual play is pretty much gone. My interest in MTG tends more toward unrestricted play less the vintage banned and restricted list. Ok, plus I sold my collection last year. So I’m out of MTG for the moment unless a regular source of casual play shows up. Magic is too resource intensive to keep up with if there isn’t an ongoing source of play.

13. Games workshop, much like dragon dice and dragon storm, is one of those game/company combinations that elicits strong conflicting emotions. I played their signature games for years. I stopped only when their rule sets so completely gutted the games I loved that they stopped even cosmetically resembling the hobby I grew to love. My armies are sold. My books are gone. Most of my terrain is given away. I like somewhat clean direct rule systems. Elegance is desirable but not required. I want to play warhammer 40k and fantasy again—and if they ever get their act together and make a rule set worth playing, I’ll happily dip my toe back into GW’s waters. Until then I shall abide.

14. I’m playing in a pathfinder game now. The frequency is about right for the participants. I started “gaming” with rifts and dungeons and dragons back in high school. D&D and pathfinder in particular harkens back to the wonder of those early days. I want to play more…but with only one available GM currently I’m forced to contain my enthusiasm. If role-playing in general tapers off, I may end up posting at alternate worlds or Titan for a game. Actually, I think I’ll sniff around there anyway and see what’s what. It can’t hurt to see if anything is out there.



That’s the state of gaming. I have other less concrete plans and dreams. These are only the most prominent of my gaming desires. Updates to come.

Running a game for a four year old

https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/3375356/fouryearoldgaming.m4a




Things we learned from this experience:

1. I sound like a dick on tape.

2. Next time figure out how high the kid can count before you give him 6 dice to roll.

3. Never ask a question you don’t want an answer to.

4. Do not run a game in a setting the kid knows better than you do.

5. I should write for this show…clearly nobody else is.

The making of an action hero pt43

Several months ago I had issues with foot and joint pain. That resulted in a month and a half of down time. I can’t say I was happy with that development. Complicating things, my talking scale gave up the ghost. It declined to take weights or gave measures varying by as much as ten pounds. Switching the batteries didn’t help. So it’s toast.


There was a period there where I just didn’t want to get back to exercising. I like exercising. It feels great afterward. The catch of course is that one has to find the time and motivation to start the process. I didn’t want to go back to having a sprung back, foot, and elbow; so I waited longer than I had to in order to make sure I was back on my game—that and the lazy is strong when it takes hold. Now I’m back on the wagon with some small changes. For one, I’m taking it much easier during stretches. I’m pretty sure that some of the joint problems I was having were due to attempting to push joints, especially hips and knees, farther than they were designed to go. So I’ve “adjusted” my expectations. Second, I’m exercising every third instead of every other day. My rule is it’s ok to be sore—it is not ok to have significant joint pain since the last session. Throw a couple four year olds around for 6 hours, climb up and down stairs for a day, and stay on your feet for 8+ hours— these things are going to hurt until the weight comes off. So I’m finding a better balance of frequency and intensity that will let me enjoy life while getting fit. If things even up in a few weeks I’m going to move on to the next section on the video past the lunges—which did more damage than good. Seriously, I have no idea how I ever did lunges—stupid knees.

I am feeling better now. It only took a few sessions to make me feel stronger. Which is probably why when my department decided to pimp a “get active” program I signed up. You record the number of steps taken each day, your daily weight, and the number of minutes exercised. The objective is to get to a set goal in each category—thereby advancing your team’s standings. Since I don’t want to let my coworkers down, it’s a nice motivator.

I’m going to hold off checking the weight. Obviously, I don’t have a scale. Every once in a while I need to change things up. I’m going to use this get active initiative to focus on exercising. I need to build up strength. I need to reintegrate exercise into my life. I’m looking forward to using the pedometer. If the one they give me isn’t accessible, I’m going to get a fit bit or some such item. Living more actively would be nice. Being able to actually evaluate how active a week has been would be better. Oh, and with summer coming on, this is the time to get it done.

You may have heard of the game “are you smarter than a 4 year old?” Saturday MX, Squish, and I played a slightly different version called “are you faster than a 4 year old.” It worked like this. We took MX and his new bumblebee transformer bike, complete with training wheels, out to the old NCR trail. I started power walking while Squish got MX settled. MX would then take off like a shot and pass me. When he thought he was far enough ahead, he would look back and taunt me. I would sprint after him, catch up, and the process would start over again. I was impressed that I could catch him in the first place. I was more impressed that he made it 6 miles on his bike without help. It was a good follow-up to my club workout that morning. The weather was clear and crisp—no bugs, dust, muck, just a perfect Saturday afternoon.

Sunday we hosted Easter for MX, Squish, and my family. I tried a few new recipes including scorpion bourbon scalloped potatoes, baked ham with sriracha brown sugar Dijon glaze, and Kielbasa sausage. Things I learned:

1. Precooked ham needs to be cooked at 325 not 350. Looking back, I didn’t distinguish between the bone in and precooked ham recipes—resulting in a wonderfully flavored but slightly over cooked dish.

2. Always be careful to validate the recipe you are using. Different components cook at different speeds so you can’t always substitute on a one-for-one basis and use the same cooking times and temperatures. I almost didn’t follow the direction for the potatoes and would have severely undercooked the dish.

3. Most of my family love spicy food. The rest will tolerate it if the flavor is good enough.

4. Recipe portions lie. They lie about how many people they will serv. They lie about how much material is required to fill a slow cooker. I now have way more potatoes than I know what to do with.

5. Cheese graters are amazing. I don’t know why it took me this long to figure it out, but the ability to add smoked Gouda to any dish is a terribly wonderful discovery.

6. Cooking things in bags has potential. This bares further investigation.

Unfortunately, I was rather ill throughout most of the event. This was particularly sad since I have been collecting laser tag guns for months in anticipation of my tiny relatives showing up. You know you’re doing something right when the first thing the three year old does when he comes through the door is to run up and whisper in your ear “can we play with the nurf guns?” It about broke my heart not being able to play with them. They will be coming back for mothers’ day, so we’ll see if the second time is the charm.