miniature gaming – Grimmleigh's Lab

‘Clicking’ Into an Intervention

I have been a collector my entire life. My earliest memories are going from store to store with my mom, looking for Mego action figures to finish out my Star Trek and Super Hero teams. I grew up with a single mom, and even after she married (when I was seven) we still had some pretty lean years, with the early ’80s being particularly brutal.

*Me with Scotty and Uhura at the pool, 1975.*

My parents did their best, though, and somehow I always had a couple of D&D books for holidays, and my dad always made sure I had a few dollars every month to get my comic books. Sure, it was easier with comics only being thirty-five (then fifty-five) cents, but he was only making about four dollars an hour, too. Still, we made do.

That may have led me to compulsive collecting. I’ve never been chill about it; when I had money for Star Wars figures, I had an end goal of collecting a hundred Storm Troopers, because that seemed really freaking cool. When I stumbled into miniatures in the mid-eighties, I wanted everything… which wasn’t too hard to do, since everything was sculpted by hand and cast in lead. So there really wasn’t a warehouse of temptation waiting for me whenever I found a store that stocked minis.

My favorites back then were Ral Partha minis, especially those sculpted by Julie Guthrie. She did some brilliant sculpts, and when the industry shifted to pewter instead of lead, the miniatures were just a little crisper in detail, which made her work pop even more. I learned to paint with those early figs, and had a few dozen monsters and adventurers lined up for my D&D games.

*Classic Julie Guthrie Skellies from Ral Partha, still available for purchase!*

When my local comic shop started carrying Games Workshop stuff, I bough my first box of Space Marines, which was 30 plastic dudes for about ten bucks. I also got a copy of Rogue Trader, and man, was I hooked.

*If you had this, it’s time to book your colonoscopy…*

Here’s the thing about being hooked on 40k in 1989, though; there were probably less than a hundred models at first. Fantasy was the bigger franchise for Games Workshop back then, and they were still making stuff for Dungeons & Dragons. So being hooked wasn’t going to put me in the poor house, and I could afford a fresh blister pack every payday and still keep up with the sporadic releases.

Now, keeping up with just about ANY miniature line is going to put you in an interesting financial predicament. If you want to collect an army for 40k or Age of Sigmar, you could easily spend a thousand dollars, and that’s just for funsies. I know tournament players who spend even more, as they try and chase the meta and stay on top of the most competitive releases.

And that’s not even getting into the fire-hose of releases GW puts out every week. Luckily, I’m not a huge GW guy (even though they’ve still managed to get some money out of me in the last few months).

Marvel Crisis Protocol was another beast altogether, though. These are super dynamic miniatures, and they’re big, beautiful, and fun to paint. The release schedule isn’t as robust by any means, and if you were only interested in one team or faction, you could get the ten minis you needed to play the game for anywhere from a hundred to two hundred dollars. That’s downright cheap in the miniature wargaming hobby!

But, if you’re a collection minded sap like me, MCP is dangerous. I love that world. I grew up in that world. I built my adolescent moral compass reading comic books, so I’m not going to be so good at resisting the temptation when new kits come out each month.

I gotta catch them all, dammit!

I’m trying not to be that guy anymore. As I mentioned earlier this year, I’m finding more and more examples of how rampant collecting can be devastating for families when that collector dies. I’m also trying to have an office that doesn’t look like a pinata stuffed with war dollies exploded in it.

The new Nimrod box almost got me. Actually, it did get me. I bought it, after selling off almost my entire collection of MCP minis. And once I had that, I had that monkey on my back again, and I was making plans on how to aquire that old collection again. After all, it was only $65 for that Nimrod box, how bad could it be if I spent a year or two getting the old minis back? I still haven’t completely talked myself out of it.

*Luckily, they’ll be easy to return if I choose to go that route…*

What a junkie I am. Luckily, I managed to have an emergency intervention with myself before it got out of control… yet.

I realize that it would be silly to deny myself the fun of collecting and painting super hero minis. There really isn’t anything wrong if I wanted to go whole-hog into MCP again, either. At the end of the day I wouldn’t be endangering anything other than my discretionary income. So I’m going to allow myself to collect supers. I’m just trying to pull back on MCP.

They are big, for one, and take up a lot of space.

Second, they’re expensive. Not in the “get a squad and you’re set” kind of way, but definitely if you want to collect the entire range, or at least get all the characters you like… which in my case, is most of them.

At an average of $15 per figure, the minis would get really cost prohibitive, really quickly. And stay that way, too, since Atomic Mass Games tends to release at least two boxes (at $65 each) every month. That math tells me my discretionary budget would be just a Marvel Crisis Protocol budget.

Luckily, I already had a solution to this issue. And it’s a fun one, because I’m stubborn and really enjoy ridiculous challenges. And it’s a solution that is about 1/15 the cost!

Yeah, I’m talking Heroclix. And yeah, I know they look like ass for the most part. But, with a little work, you can make them look like a pretty acceptable kind of ass, which is where all the fun comes in!

(And honestly, they only look like ass compared to modern mass market sculpts. Compared to a lot of the indy studios, or the stuff I grew up with, they look great.)

Plus, they take up about a third of the space of the Marvel Crisis Protocol figures. Here’s a couple that I already had painted up!

I placed an order for some used Clix, which came in at about a buck a figure. I got some heroes, a couple of standard goons, and a few of my favorite goofball villains from the silver age comics that I love. This is what came in that box when it arrived yesterday:

That’s 29 miniatures, which came delivered to my house for a total of $35 when shipping was added in. That’s about half of the price of a box of three MCP models. I totally get that I am intentionally getting a far inferior sculpt, and that there’s some work that will need to be done to get them looking good.

On the other hand, there’s a lot of work that goes in to making any miniature look good. The MCP figs need to be assembled, mold lines need to be cleaned, and the mini needs to be primed. The Clix? Well, they’re assembled. Sometimes poorly, but assembled. The mold lines need to be cleaned up, but for all intents they only need to be primed if you want to prime them. The factory basic paint they come in is primer enough.

This will be a fun project! And even better, there are tons of costume variations for the characters that have been made over the last 26 years of production. For folks like me who are really tired of the Jim Lee X-Men costumes, this is welcome news!

I’m not saying I won’t buy more MCP. If I do, I plan on just sticking to mutants or characters I really like, and using the Clix project to tame the wild collector in me. My wife is already laughing at my really convincing resolve with this idea.

I’ll keep you updated on this silly new project… oh, and another thing! The Clix are 28/30mm scale, so they’ll fit with my existing minis and terrain. I even have some ideas on how to work powers into my game engine!

More soon… I’ve gone on long enough!

Miniatures, Workbench

Fallout Factions: The Disciples (part one)

I wish I had been a Fallout fan earlier. My oldest kid was way into it, and I remember listening as she played the hell out of Fallout 3, New Vegas, and Fallout 4. I’m a huge Skyrim fan, so you would think I would have played sooner. Really, it took the new series to get me to look at it again, and now I really can’t look back.

I love the Atom-Punk vibe of the whole thing. Alternate histories are a hell of a thing, too, and the games and show have strung together a pretty fascinating look at a future that looks a lot like our past had a baby with an old Flash Gordon serial.

I had the Welcome to Nuka-World starter for Fallout Factions, and sold it, thinking I wouldn’t get back to it anytime soon. I still had the Disciples set, and decided I would paint them up before making up my mind on more minis from the franchise.

I think I want more minis from the franchise. Modiphius has made some pretty cool minis, and the hard plastic kit for the Disciples is pretty keen. I was thrown at first because they’re a true-scale 32mm, so the features, hands, and feet are smaller than I’ve grown used to. But they’re fun to paint, take an oil wash well, and look pretty good once all is said and done.

I ordered the character command minis for this group, I should have one of them done for the next update!

Miniatures, Workbench

Marvel Zombies: She-Hulk

I have had a long history with She-Hulk. I really loved the Hulk when I was a kid, which is probably why I love orcs. Big, Green, and Dumb is a default source of joy for me!

I was about eight years old when the first She-Hulk comics came out, and I liked them, but I didn’t get the humor because I was freaking eight years old. As I got older, she became pretty entertaining to read, and as an adult, she became a bit of a favorite.

Turns out Big, Green, and Smart is pretty fun, too!

I even enjoyed the MCU She-Hulk series on Disney+, but that’s not surprising. As most people who grew up with The Trial of the Incredible Hulk as the closest thing to cool live action super heroes will tell you, we’re a bit spoiled right now, and there’s some pretty good stuff being sent our way. Also, I’m easily entertained!

The She-Hulk sculpt from CMON’s Marvel Zombies game is pretty dynamic, and easily captures her in a heroic pose, getting ready to punch some shambler into paste! I’m happy to add her to the ranks of finished models, and it’ll be cool seeing an A-Force team pop up as I get more Avengers models finished!

art drop, Miniatures

Breaking Up with a Game

Sometimes, you love a game with all your heart, and a relationship is kindled that lasts a lifetime. For me, Mordheim, and to a lesser extent, Necromunda, have been huge anchors for my love of the hobby. Other games, like 40k and Malifaux, have been fun excuses to paint up armies and hang with friends. And then there are those select few that come along, make me incredibly happy, and then fizzle out after a bit (I’m looking at you, Wild West Exodus!). But nothing, and I mean nothing, is worse in this hobby than falling in love with a game and realizing, years later, that you just can’t stand it anymore.

The game in question (this time, at least) is Corvus Belli’s Infinity. I stumbled across the game around 2014, found the models breathtaking, and there was a community of really fun and entertaining players already invested in it at a game store that just gelled with me. Now, 10 years later, that game store has moved two states away, a good chunk of that community moved with it, and I’m finding myself staring at a bunch of Infinity models that I have no interest in playing with.

I’m also wondering if I ever liked the game at all, or if it was just that community? Now that they’ve moved on, my interest in gaming in general is pretty abysmal. Sure, I’ve always been a painter/modeler way more than I’ve been a gamer, but there was always the appeal of getting together with friends and rolling some dice that just fueled everything else.

And don’t get me wrong, I still have a local community, but we’re largely dependent on the one person in our group that has enough room and is centrally located, and we all have tricky schedules. A good game store really is a freaking asset, nay, a treasure, that you don’t realize you’ll miss until it’s gone.

Infinity has some of the nicest models in the world of miniatures, and some of my friends swear it’s one of the best game systems out there. I always found it mechanically tedious, and felt like I was doing a math bee in my underpants every time I played.

And seriously, I delt craps once upon a time. I can handle some pretty complex mental work. Infinity just beat the hell out of me.

Now, for a multitude of reasons that I won’t get into other than missing my store and half my community, I just can’t stand the game. I don’t want to play it, I’m completely uninterested in new releases, and I have several hundred miniatures staring at me and making me feel guilty as hell. What am I going to do with all this pewter?

The obvious answer is to sell it all, pay off some more medical bills, and make more Necromunda magic happen in my life. But that gets complicated. There’s a bittersweet, personal history with a lot of these minis.

When I found Shiv Games, I was more alone in my hobby space than I had been in decades. Since moving back to Salt Lake City, I had lost my regular gaming group, and was just going through the motions. After Shiv, I had a good group of people to hang out with. I painted my own miniatures, and even took on some commissions from the crew there.

All said and done, I probably painted close to 2,000 Infinity miniatures. I even ended up working at Shiv for a while, and painted the Jeff’s Shock Army, which I now own and can’t bear to part with.

Every single one of these models has a memory, whether it’s happily painting away at the shop and talking to the crew, sharing a laugh and a story or two. Or helping folks get their armies ready before tournaments, or building a table of terrain that I still think is the best work I’ve ever done.

And now, I have a bunch of models that make me a little sad. I really have no idea what to do with them. Part of me thinks they would be cool as models for Stargrave or Five Parsecs from Home, part of me wants to just build cool displays for them, and part of me just wants to launch them into the sun.

Sheesh. I only meant to write a few paragraphs, and now I’m being maudlin as hell. This is tricky. I’m not good at tricky!

So, this is where I’m going to ask you folks what you would do in this situation. I may not act on any of it, but I am genuinely interested in what other people might do!

Thanks for reading, and may all your rolls be entertaining rolls.

-Leigh