Tomorrow marks the second Ill Blood Warhammer Fantasy tournament at Dark Sphere in Altdorf London. Army lists are in a checked and all there is to do now is to turn up and roll some dice. Hopefully there should be some lively social media updates, so check #illblood on Twitter and Instagram for some war corrispondance from those who are witnessing it first hand.
But more importanly, here is the first round draw…
editor – this article was originally posted by Von on his blog
This post follows on from a discussion of unexpected quality on Your Dungeon Is Suck of all places: start here, then skip some crap when the thread winds down and resume here. Try to look past the Bad Words that are used and engage with the substance of the arguments and I hope you would get the sense that everyone is thinking about what they’re saying for once, even if they happen to be Wrong from a given point of view.
Talking this issue over with Hark, she brought up the oft-mentioned point that while not being A Woman, I have seldom wanted for female players in my own games. I’ve had three all-male groups in my lifetime, one in a single-sex school and two derived from wargames clubs. I suppose the game I hosted at FanBoy3 in Manchester is an oddity in that everyone who responded to the ad was male, and there was only a woman in that group because I brought Hark along. For me, an active roleplaying game WITHOUT female players is the anomaly: according to Her Harkship I can pull hot female roleplayers out of my ass wherever I go. Either I’m some sort of Intellectual Love God, or I’m doing something appallingly basic that your average podgy bearded gamer dude isn’t
I am a failed tabletop gamer. As far as confessions go, I’m not exactly seeking a priest to whisper a secret sin. Is it something I would like absolving of? Yes. Will I ever rectify it? Possibly. I live in a world with an unfortunate amount of hobbies, be that a blessing or a curse. When it comes to getting time to paint it’s not often, therefore I don’t make progress, and I’m painfully aware that with every layer of paint I put on it I’m taking my miniature a step further away from what I see in my mind’s eye. Every brush stroke is an act of violent self-abuse. As a person who’s never had an issue generally achieving something I set my body to, be it from as picking up weights in the gym, to learning kickboxing to more relevant things such as sculpting or drawing it generally comes quickly. Painting minis however seems to be my Everest. As a result, all too often my relaxing time becomes bouts of intense rage, followed by aggressive self-frustration and ends with me giving 4cm high plastic space men a withering cold glare. This leaves me with a catch 22 of sorts. I really, really think it’s awesome, I’m just too infuriated by myself to make them come to life, but I want to enjoy the glorious world of militant space fascists. So there is only one answer for me.
Edit – Originally written for a zine that never surfaced last year, and just released in paperback, I thought this would be a good time to dredge it up, and serve as a preview to an upcoming blog piece by Dieter with regards to the series
Over 8 years, a mountain of novels, short stories and audio dramas later, we finally get to see the man himself in action again. Horus Heresy, it’s named after the Warmaster, it’s his name above the door, so it’s about time we see him on the ground, taking names and showing everyone why he was, once, the Emperor’s favoured son and chosen leader in the field before it all went to hell.
Follow this guide right, and you’ll have all the kit to paint a massive alien queen on the side of your Mum’s new Punto!
So you’ve read up on what kind of compressor you need, and you know why you need one. Nice work. Next step’s the airbrush, this thing’s gonna get the paint on to the model. Read on, and let Corehammer impart its combined knowledge and experience.
You do realise, don’t you, that goth came from punk? If you were transported back to 1984 you wouldn’t recognise the goths. And they’d laugh at you. Particularly if you told them how everyone would revere the Sisters as the One True Goth Band. – The Box of Delights
This isn’t an origin story. This isn’t the first record I ever bought (it’s actually a couple of years older than I am, for one thing), not is it the first thing I ever heard by Leeds’ finest export. This is not the “I heard this for the first time and it totally blew my mind” post. This is the “I heard this for the first time and it made up my mind” post.