The tables are coming along. I
genuinely do not have a second to write more about the process at the moment,
as the sprint is fully engaged. gogogogo. These tables will be delivered on Thursday
come hell or high water (I’m not even really sure what that means, but I’ve
always wanted to write it).
I will say this:
1. The cardstock has been a real
challenge to work with. I made a few early blunders and I’ve been stumbling
around to fix them since.
2. In absence of all the greater,
more ambitious notions that I would have liked to accomplish in this project (no open flames, sorry), I’ve
become extraordinarily pragmatic. I’ve also been rediscovering painting
techniques that I love.
…for example, chevrons. Love them.
…and highly-weathered, well,
everything. I really enjoy making these tables look haggard and worn. So much
so, in fact, that I’m not even sure that I could paint cleanly if I wanted anymore. It’s
all about layers and layers and layers to make the muck.
The pressure cooker heading in to AdeptiCon just went
to 11. It’s one louder ...because it’s not all tables and tables
with tables around here.
Last year was my first grand
adventure in the world of “competitive” gaming with the relatively gentle
pressures of 40K’s Combat Patrol dynamic. Despite what the internet has told me
about competitive types, I enjoyed myself tremendously -had an absolute blast, in fact.
Indeed. I enjoyed myself so much so that I wanted
to try my hand at it again this year. But I also had an ambitious taste for something
a good deal different (to me).
Lord of the Rings was a game that
I enjoyed some years ago, and the March (madness) to Mount Doom event appealed
to me for several reasons. From a distance, it might seem a quirky bend toward power
gaming, but in reality the event is designed, simply, to open the weirder possibilities that the
game itself offers but that don’t generally make it to standard gaming
opportunities. Honestly, when would one ever actually get to play Sauron without
a perfect post-rationalization like this?
March to Mount Doom also fell
squarely into one of my few free moments on the weekend. Win. Win.
Furthermore, in conversation with
some of the organizers (who I was lucky enough to bump into during one of
the recent AdeptiCon organization meetings) I was distinctly assured that the event
would be cool, calm, collected, and generally quite sporting. Just the thing
for my interests in the “competitive lite” end of the gaming spectrum.
…and, it was the perfect excuse to
paint a rather large number of old models, some of whom had even been primed
but who otherwise sat patiently for about 10 years. I want this to be a shining
example to the teeming horde of other neglected models in my collection. There
is always hope for you my little ones.
Anyway, my first idea was to do
something with all these old trolls I had sitting around. Then a few weeks back
I played a series of test games with Ref Pitmann v. his Gimli assortment and I
got absolutely stuffed. My plans changed for the weirder. And now I have the
Witch King sitting on my desk looking rather lopsided, alongside a whole gaggle of Morgul Knights. I hope to playtest this crowd at
least once before the day, as only 15 or so of these guys will make the tables next Thursday night.
yes. the project has snowballed. Funny how that happens. And I will
say this about the tournament scene, it is a tremendous way to get motivated
for some painting.
Why do these things always spiral
so completely out of control?
This is the part of the
table-building process in which blogging about said progress becomes rather
difficult. These photos show the table progress as it stood nearly 10+ days
ago. I just haven’t had a proper moment to collect the photos and write about
it until now because… well, I’ve been building tables. So it goes.
We have had two relatively
pleasant stretches of warm weather here in the Chicago, and that means only one
thing at this gentleman’s household: table making. Naturally, I had my trust
assistants on hand. Longtime readers will note that they have grown
considerably, as has their enthusiasm for the project. Or perhaps they were
simply happy to be out of doors again after a dark winter.
To recap: I have been charged with
the creation of 8 4x4’ Zone Mortalis tables. Glory. At this early stage, they
were only being primed, and while the sunshine helped the process, the ambient
temperature was also low enough that drying times were unusual.
So I launched directly into the second
table endeavor on my plate this season: Wreck Age. I left Hyacinth Games a
little over one month ago (which accompanies another exciting bit of news that
I’ll share soon enough), but I still wanted to fulfill as much of this task as
Things being what they are, I have
reigned in the scope of that project slightly. I am now focusing on 3 tables
that describe the exterior of the troubled town of TenPike. As the game is set
in a hellish future in which human folly has decimated the environment, I
wanted to focus on a kind of swampy sewage outlet into a once robust forested
area. The idea, then, is that we will trace said bletch back toward the remnants
of civilization in these tables.
At this point, the tables were
mashed together with a combination of spackle and then a few layers of a papier
mache product called cellu-clay. The latter is quite good, though more
ambitious coats of the stuff require extraordinary amounts of drying time.
Again, direct sunlight and ambient heat help this process tremendously. So this
is where we stood the day before Easter.
More on last week’s progress this
week. Wait. What?
Several posts back, I mentioned
(with some chagrin) that after the original Sin of Alacrity raffle-giveaway I
had never heard another word from the fellow (in Ohio I believe) who had won.
Well, I still haven’t hear from
But Who cares. Soon after that post Bill (the extraordinary fellow who
donated to Doctors Without Borders and took home the best two of the four
Heroes of Armageddon tables) wrote me with a very kind note and with these fine photos
of the tables in action.
He included a note saying that the tables were seeing quite a lot of use
and that one seam in particular had earned a reputation for its ability to eat pieces in play.
Apparently, they call it "The Devourer of Dice." Ha. That's totally my bad.
Well. His letter made my day. There is nothing greater than knowing all of this has contributed some measure of fun and intrigue and general gaming mayhem out there in the real world.
Thanks, Bill -not only for being a brilliant and kind person, but also for passing this along. Cheers.