Gamers Do It On The Table: What Kind Of Wargamer Are You?
5 Minute Read
Sep 19 2013
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The rules may be set in stone, but there are tons of ways to play. What sort of wargamer are you?
I confess: I started out as a roleplayer. D&D, Vampire: The Masquerade—all that stuff. However, years of working at game stores and spending time with wargamers made it only a matter of time. The urge to roleplay is a tough feeling to kill—and I’ve found mixing the two is the only real solution for me.
A glossy, cockroachy brown and black paint job lead to my darling Tyranid Hive Fleet Vermin. Over the course of several years and many, many battles, they’ve developed their own war stories and quirks. For example: Hive Fleet Vermin’s Genestealers are known to chirp like adorable birds as they tear through their victims—a detail I found hilarious at first, but find more and more deeply disturbing as I ponder what that would be like in a real life situation.
Over the years I’ve seen other wargamers balancing two worlds together as well, and couldn’t help but note that they are similar to the character classes of my beloved roleplaying games. A few examples:
The Fluffball – The scholar of any particular gaming world, The Fluffball started as your garden-variety book nerd, and devours information on every detail of everything involved in your game. His iPad is filled with Black Library selections, and he got Dan Abnett’s autograph tattooed to his arm. You have never seen him play—you’re not sure he’s clipped a sprue in his life. But he’s the one who hovers over your table, pointing out details you never would have guessed:
“These Guardsmen come from an Agri-World? Interesting. They would probably have been fed on a nutrient rich porridge similar to what we’d call polenta. A largely liquid diet. I guess what I’m getting at is that when they die, the evacuation of their bowels is going to be just horrifying. And do you really think a Chapter Master would be sent down to discipline a bunch of freshly-turned cultists? Come on, man—get it together.”
He’s reading a note Aaron Dembski-Bowden left on a cocktail napkin.
The Scribe – A cousin of the Fluffball, the Scribe has taken it a step further. Not content to let faceless authors and designers decide his army’s fate, he creates an original background for every one of his armies. This is the guy whose Space Marines have bits from Black Templars, torsos from Blood Angels, Space Wolf heads, and Tyranid biomorph weaponry (because why the hell not?). He explains between die rolls that his chapter, The Emperor’s Nukes, is armed with a violent bioweaponry that they gained through meddling with new types of science forbidden by the Inquisition—that they count as Blood Angels when battling Chaos, Tau, Necrons, and Tyranids, but count as Chaos Marines when they fight anyone else. Your mind is inevitably elsewhere when he tells you this.
“Okay—one unsaved wound, then. Congratulations: you’ve executed Padraig McCowen—a former ganger in the Hiveworld of Orfeus who made good in the eyes of the law when he destroyed a tech magos gone beserk at the risk of his own life. His wife, Henrietta McCowen, was born a poor shop keep’s daughter…”
And so on.
“I’ll finish this, and then it’s on to my hardcore Dark Eldar fanfiction…”
The Golden Demon – If the Golden Demon had it up to him, tournaments would require a minimum of fourteen colors to make a model regulation—none of this “three color” crap. The Golden Demon’s army looks so good that you feel like he’s insulting you personally. He paints non-metallic metals with ease, and every mud splatter or scratch on a piece of armor was furiously attended to and perfected. He keeps each unit in its own shoebox filled with packing peanuts, and you wince every time he moves one of them. His army is definitely the most gorgeous army that you’ve ever completely and utterly destroyed.
“Well, I wanted a nice centerpiece, so the Lord Commissar was an obvious choice. I spent about 100 hours on him. I referenced several medical texts to get the color right on his facial scarring. The Guardsmen themselves were way easier—I only spent about ten hours a piece on them!”
He makes wet palettes out of other painters’ tears.
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The Tactician – The counterpoint to The Golden Demon, the Tactician doesn’t give a damn about fluff, paint, or background. The Tactician barely registers that you’re there—your army and its position are all that matters. Certain prideful Tacticians will pay others to paint their army to some level of standard, but only if they have to. Otherwise, you’re lucky if the army is fully glued together with sprue pieces and mold lines still poking out. His arms are crossed—his brow furrowed. He might be cold and he might be relatively friendly. But the outcome is always the same. It is absolutely the best time you ever had getting monkey-stomped. Or if it isn’t, at least it didn’t last that long.
“Well, that’s it, then–done by Turn 3. I’ve got to give you credit: you lasted a hell of a lot longer than you did last week. Good for you.”
“The War Council invites you to suck it.”
Are there any gaming archetypes you’ve noticed not mentioned here? How many of these does your local gaming group have?
Phil Keeling is a comedian, writer, and gamer. He can be found at www.philkeeling.com and on Facebook. He occasionally says amusing things on Twitter. His various other nerd musings can be found at Notes From The Conquistadork.
Author: Guest Columnist
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