Here’s to growing up with the tabletop miniature hobby…
Childhood. Another rainy day. A group of you. Packed into your friends bedroom.
Sprawled out on the carpet, battle rages. On all fours, you manoeuvre your forces through the crude cardboard terrain.
Your army advances. Barely a quarter of them decorated in your rustic painting style. Most of your troops wearing that uniformed plastic grey. The odd metal warrior gleams amidst their ranks.
Hastily glued together. Visible mold lines. Lumps and bumps from their birthing sprues. You drive them forward.
The chunky rulebooks you barely understand. Play pauses to debate a point of conflict.
You lie that you read something in White Dwarf. A special that rule lets you wipe out an entire enemy unit because you rolled a 3. There are no smartphones. There is no internet. Who can prove you wrong?
The rain lets up and cabin fever sets in. It’s back outside to play. But there’s a rematch a few days later. This time on your mum’s dining table.
Nearly two hours to set up. Everything just right. Those same armies size each other up from opposite ends of the table.
Everything just right? Well, maybe not. Adjust a few pieces. Do we have any more scenery? Standing over the table. Admiring.
Finally, battle commences. It’s turn after turn of tape measures. Advancing. Moving into position. Closer and closer they get. But then it’s dinner time and you’re ordered to tidy it all away. Not an arrow fired. Not a blow struck.
You’re going to paint your army. All of them. You’re going to get it all done. Soon.
A large Goblin Green stain adorns your bedroom carpet. There was trouble when it happened. You were more upset about the paint.
You’re going to get more miniatures. When you have the money. You’ve picked them all out. Pouring over the catalogue pages at the back of White Dwarf. You’ve even filled in the postal slip form.
The years roll by. Older. Other interests turn your head. The worlds of relationships and alcohol begging to be explored.
Gradually less painting. Gradually less gaming. A slow thing at first.
Then college, university, or work. You move out. Or decide to decorate your room. Either way, things have changed.
Your still largely unpainted force go into a box. Veterans of many campaigns. The unpainted infantryman with the bent spear. That cavalry regiment who shed infinite amounts of flock. The hero with the eyes painted like he’s undergoing an eternal prostate examination.
All of them, into the box. At ease, soldier. Stand down.
They stare up at you as the box lid shuts. The world goes black.
Ring Any Bells?
Alright, so no two hobby experiences are the same. But there are many similarities.
Similar childhood experiences. Similar reasons for stopping. Similar reasons for eventually coming back.
Maybe you have kids of your own now. Maybe you simply walked past a shop and curiosity got the better of you.
Whatever the reason, there comes a point where you open your first paint pot in decades, and think to yourself “here we go again”.
Once you’re back in, you realise how much has changed.
A monthly magazine once told you everything there was to tell. But now there’s the internet. Social media, blogs and podcasts keep you entertained and up-to-date around the clock.
So many companies. So many games. So many incredible miniatures.
You marvel at every photo you see. Everyone a master painter now. Were people always that good?
The Tabletop Miniature Hobby’s “Recently Returned”
The tabletop miniature hobby is a bit like a necromancer. It raises us from our long slumber. Adds us back into its ranks to fight once more.
Once resurrected, one of the first things I learned about was the fate of the Warhammer Old World. I remember thinking “wait… what!?”. But companies change. Things move on.
Then I discovered the concept of ‘Oldhammer’. The blogs and communities.
It was a joy to find the aesthetic that meant so much to me still being embraced and celebrated. In fact, the style is still alive and well in modern companies like Knightmare Games. They produce some fantastic miniatures.
I discovered incredible games like Mantic’s Kings of War, and Open Combat, by Second Thunder. I love these for a number of reasons.
Firstly, they helped exercise the demons of those chunky rulesets from back in the day. The having to wing it. The never actually finishing a game.
Their sleek, succinct, fat-free rules make them accessible to the beginner. And yet, they are difficult to master. Both addictive challenges that make you want to play them again and again.
There’s a more relaxed culture too. “You can use what you already have” is a refreshing break from the treadmill of always just needing that one more thing. “My hobbying will be great, as soon as I…” is a road that never ends.
Yes, many companies make their money from selling miniatures. And yes, there are more Kickstarters out there than there are stars in the sky. But jumping in maybe just doesn’t seem like the mountain it once was.
This is an entire subject of its own, and is well covered in mini series around Sustainable Gaming on the superb Paint All The Minis Podcast.
If you’re just back from a long hobby exile, I’d also recommend How Do You Start (or Get Back Into) the Miniatures Hobby?, an episode of CryinMo’s Tabletop Alchemy Podcast.
Mines are simply the ramblings of an enthusiastically returned tabletop miniature hobbyist. Nostalgic for the past, but excited for the present and future. Hopefully you’ve enjoyed, and perhaps even related to them.
And if you have, please share it out and give us a follow on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram. I’d massively appreciate it 🙂