Book review: Masters of magic

I know, I know... why is he just reading when he could be painting? I actually read this as I travelled for work recently. It is pretty much perfect for that, as it is an easy and not terribly complicated read. I mean that as a compliment, really.

Seldom have I enjoyed a plot as basic as this one, so kudos to Chris Wright for managing to make (most) the characters interesting enough to captivate me and making a lot of a little. True, I am a sucker for wizards hurling lightning bolts at one another, but I like to think that there is some lower limit to what I will accept, and this book was well above.

The plot in short: A young grey wizard encounters an army of orcs led by a shaman. Stuff happens as the orcs rampage towards Altdorf, and more wizards get involved, some as part of wizardly intrigues and power struggles, and we are treated to many wizardly things, such as spellcasting, arrogance, manipulation, heroics and all such juicy things for the eager reader. It's all written fairly basic, vibrant and with just the right amount of depth for each character to make some sense and spawn some interest without anyone ever actually getting very complicated or too full of plot hooks (even though a number of famous Warhammer characters make at least an appearance) to be useful in the tale. I think we can all guess with some level of accuracy who will make it through this story alive, but there are a few surprises along the way.

So far, all good. Another good thing? The orc shaman. Described much like the shark in "Jaws" or some such, we don't get the god-awful attempt at describing things from his point of view. There ARE enough characters to switch through as it is, and none of them are too complicated, so adding another would effectively detract from both the added character and the ones you had already. The danger when describing battle wizards of the Empire always seems to be that one ever so easily ends up writing some cliche-ridden characters who each just embody their college, OR you end up with someone who is the polar opposite, because of how curious and interesting THAT would be... So yeah. Orc shaman who remains orcy? Big plus. Battle wizards who don't go too overboard in cliches? Big plus too. (Some of them may be a bit stereotyped, but fair play, mr Wraight)

I was recently asked if all of these books aren't just "one big battle scene after another". I strongly denied that filthy suggestion, but... Well this one kinda is. Let's not pretend that it does not contain a strong amount of spellcasting and violent battles. It does. the book is perhaps intelligently put together, but it would be a stretch to suggest that it contains much mystery or information. There is of course information about the colleges of magic, a tiny bit about spellcasting and greenskin magic, but that's all the cultural fluff/depth you get. No exotic region, no craftily hidden references for initiates (not me at least) and not much to make you cry out to dark gods for a sequel either really, though I imagine some of the characters turn up elsewhere, perhaps in Wright's other books.

Over all rating: 4 out 5. Solid. Delivers. "Give him the ball and he'll score."

Book review: Death's Messenger

I threw myself into "Death's Messenger" in damn near complete ignorance it seems. I foolishly thought that it was perhaps written by a woman (Sandy?), but I was wrong. It's a pseudonym. It says so in the back of the book. Not sure I understand what the purpose was then, but hey. Secondly, I had not grasped that this was in fact part one of a series, and so I sat there throughout the book, admittedly LIKE A MORON and kept wondering HOW miss Sandy would manage to offer a satisfactory ending to the tale as the pages vanished.

As usual, I will not spoil the plot much. It's a coming of age tale, a grim one at that, as young Rudi is forced to flee his village in the rural regions of the Empire. Antagonists are many and of every stripe, both village bullies, beastmen, skaven, zealots, cultists... You name it. In retrospect, it all calls for elaboration to make much sense, but it is such an easy read that I was perhaps misled into thinking that it just wouldn't be explained or fleshed out much. Young Rudi goes from a somewhat stunted upbringing in the woods - and yes we get it several times: he grew up in the forrest with his stepfather, he thus has little sophistication and few social skills - through a brief career as mail man in his local community and straight to fugitive in a Mark Twain-ish story.

What's good? The writing is fairly crisp and vivid, not too meandering and pretentious, not too simple and repetive. The characters ... well, a lot are RPG-stock, including the main protagonists. Painfully so, some might find, but some of us may accept it as part and parcel with Warhammer books. I wasn't too bothered. It was like drinking Guinness. You've had it before, but it's still good. It IS a very easy and somewhat predictable read where it's fair to say that many veterans will understand more of what's going on than the characters. It's a classic problem in these books, and so is the "it does drag a bit"-sequences when characters are "between" major plot elements, and you can figure out where stuff is going.

The plot does seem genuinely complicated and "large" enough to keep young Rudi occupied for two more books without too much (literally) wandering in the wilderness to finally manage to bore me.

There is not much - if any - new info in this book. Nada. No nuggets if arcane knowledge, no explorer's joy as we visit new and exciting regions. We do not really visit any regions at all actually, as it's all very generic "fantasy landscape" where monsters lurk in woods, villagers struggle in ignorance and adventurers do cool stuff. Everyone has German sounding names, but they could have had any names, anywhere, and it wouldn't matter much. There's a little flavour involved when it comes to Chaos (a specific god that it won't take big brains to detect for the seasoned Warhammer reader), but that's it really when it comes to slightly less generic stuff.

It ends in a cliffhanger. If you hate this sort of thing, or don't fancy reading a whole trilogy then skip it altogether. I think you can miss it and not kick yourself, unless you're reading it so that you can join a roleplaying game and roll your eyes when your gamemaster steals from it, or something that he genuinely thought up accidentally resembles parts of this tale.

Rating: 3 out of 5. Spaghetti bolognese.

Orc team IX

Meet da coach!

I read that harsh disciplinarian coaches win more than friendly types... Not that I can imagine coaching orcs by being a nice, rational, friendly type. So this coach isn't. He is ranting and raving.

His cap needs a little work to make it more of a cap, and his right hand needs a little surgery on the thumb. You can't see that here though.

"The elves were who we thought they were!"

Orc team VIII

Here is the group shot that you have all no doubt been waiting for.

Yes, Morley-orc is not in this. He was cut from the squad last minute. Wave goodbye to him for the time being. Truth be told, I lost count and made one lineman too many. I am rather sheepish about this gaffe, but it goes to show what happens when one meddles with dark forces. So Gork told me. Or perhaps it was Mork.

Regardless... here they are. Ignore how the shot reveals how pathetic my light box is.

Updated Morley

It was pointed out to me that the angle of the hand waving was is fact wrong. As in "actually useful", so I fixed it. It was tempting to stick him in an oven mitt, but the madness had to stop somewhere.

He has one smooooth palm. I dont want to suggest anything here, but... maybe I should make him wear glasses too? Anyway, a hot needle should fix that, I hope.

"Block me!"

Orc team VII

Thrower number two is ready.

I know three basic types of orc throwers. This one is a classic model, a right handed tough guy who throws in a "big wings"-position. The other thrower does a hand off, and you might call him type two. The third is very orcish in a hideous way, throwing two handed, as if he was wielding a big club or axe. I stay clear of that one, or at least I won't make one.

This has made me think, and I have a type 4 in mind for next time I do orcs.

As any thrower knows, it is nice to have time to look around and launch accurately, so this guy is shown here with a lineman to block for him.

Orc team VI

Last blitzer is done and dusted. I went for a dynamic pose where he is launching himself upwards, perhaps to intercept, while the other one here is more of a traditionalist, blocking low.

My feeble attempt to distinguish blitzers from linemen is through use of helmets. Not much, but hey.

I try to avoid Warhammer poses, but feel certain I have seen the left blitzers' post before somewhere. If not in an orc, then perhaps a human or elf? Don't recall.

The whole team is sprayed and ready now, so hopefully I will find time to paint soon.

More on Morley

I did ponder - for just one short minute, until I regained my senses, shook off this Daemonic influence and sobered - to create an entire team of Morleys. His orc team (were they ones with a silly name on the box? I forget) could be recreated, using bitz, cooler (inevitably) in almost every way, and yet they could be forced, by knife and by glue, by the grace of Gork and Mork, to strike similar poses as Gary's orcs are forever forced to.

The blitzers! One looks like Popeye, as he runs (?), weight on his front foot, left arm flexed and folded in to protect his torso, while the right is pulled up, contracting his right trapezius intensely, so that he may aim his fist at the ground, winding up a potentially devastating uppercut, or some such. Beautiful. His partner strikes much the same pose, but he is a scrappier orc, and so he challenges the opposition with his left fist, instead of tugging it in. Only a fool would of course approach, for he too has his right hand ready to strike, sort of. He is, presumably, more nimble than the first blitzer, as he gets some good stretching done across his pectoral muscles in this pose. Not as good as the skaven blitzers, but still... he's got some moves.

The black orcs! Where does one begin to praise these Nubian fighting machines? This pose is rarely seen in football, but it is perhaps more often seen at rock concerts or in big protests. There is perhaps a nod to "BLACK POWER!" in the fist pump that both orcs do, or perhaps more of "party on, party people!"-sentiment. I for one have trouble imagining Martin Luther King, Malcolm X or even Farrakhan wearing these somewhat viking-esque helmets though. Indeed, why would they? Naturally, the left fist is clenched, and for variation, one holds up his, while the other is more relaxed about the whole being in a violent game thing.

The thrower! Bare feet and a little dance in his step. Why would a thrower have bare feet? You got me, but it does reflect his lower AV, perhaps. He holds the ball high, as you do in football, while using his left fist to threaten any attacker who might try and prevent his throwing. His helmet is mighty, and should he fancy cookies after the game, he could just flip said helmet and start whipping up a dough in it.

The linemen. They all have a nice, wide stance with legs parallel and clenched fists. They are linemen, and so they are ready to stand, like men, in line. Or on a line. Whichever. The best pose is of course to have one fist on your hip/thigh and the other held out from your body as if you were bullying someone to surrender his milk money. Menacing! Two guys do that, and they are of course identical. Two other, completely different guys do a thing where they hold up both fists, not so that they might punch with their weight behind the fist, pivoting on their (quarter flexed) little legs, but more like... A guy playing ping-pong? There are two more, again completely different, seeing as they are smaller, have a spiked Pickelhaube-esque helmet that would get a nod from Bismarck, should he be inspecting this bunch, AND they have their LEFT fist raised a bit higher where as the other ones had their RIGHT fist a bit higher. See? See what Gary did there? Oh yeah. Smaller. "Punching" up.

And also: Loincloths. Sometimes with dangly strips. Very, very popular among orcs, it seems. One hopes that they are spared from away games in Norsca, or there may be some disappointed lady orcs after the game.

How could I ever replicate this?

The greatest mini in the world

...tribute.

I call this lineman Morley in honour of Gary Morley, the famous designer from GW behind a lot of awesome Blood Bowl miniatures, as well as that legendary liche Nagash.

The pose is very common in bb. Shifting your weight to the back foot, you raise your big hand - mutated or not - and call for the ball. At the same time, you flex your biceps on the other arm, making a fist and a "come at me, bro"-face. Stay low in the legs, but keep your torso up. Now you are a player.

Scoreboard?

Not for the fat orcs, obviously, but perhaps for a chaos team, forrest goblin or other blighted forrest type of folks?

The idea is simple. Boards (bigger?) with home and away and spare shields put to good use with numbers painted on to keep score. This is obviously just a dummy so far.

Promising or... dead wood?