Is this the 'End Times' of Warhammer 40,000?

Can you think of a subtext to this famous painting?

My wife wants to move. That old chestnut of a 'lack of space' has reared it's head once more and she is busy on Rightmove searching for our next property. Now the purchasing of houses is something I have little to do with, beyond sharing my opinion with my spouse about the properties she selects. Also, I am a firm believer in the maxim: ' a happy wife equals a happy life' and strive to adhere to this philosophy as much as I can. 

One symptom of her new desire is the besuited estate agent, all big tie and shiny shoes, and organising the time to meet with them. Sadly for her, the arrival yesterday morning of one polite gentleman from a local agency clashed with another family engagement - an engagement that no amount of wrangling would free herself with. 

So, being the roguish dare-devil that I am, yours truly stepped in at the last moment and offered to remain in the house and meet with the gentleman in question. Of course, the prospect of getting some unexpected painting time into the bargain did not cross my mind once. 

Honest. 

Punctuality being king in this kind of work, I heard a knock at the door at precisely quarter past nine. Greeting me at the doorstep was a very smart and friendly man, a handful of years older than myself, smiling pleasantly, and after a few moments of explanation on my part on the absence of my wife, I invited him in. Being clearly a more experienced estate agent he cut straight to business, asking me a series of questions about the house and impressing me with his knowledge of the area. He was just about to launch into an informative spiel about interest rates when, all of a sudden and quite out of character, he stopped dead. 

Silence.

His eyes left me and focused in wonder at something on the other side of the room. 

"Is that a Great Spined Dragon from Games Workshop?" he asked, in wonder, all thought of house sales temporary forgotten. I told him that it was and over the next twenty minutes or so guided him through my collection of old school painted Citadel, my gaming tables and Oldhammer paraphernalia. To say that he was astonished that even one man would still be interested in 1980s Warhammer, let alone an international community, would be an understatement. 

These unlikely meetings between enthusiasts, even those as lapsed as he, are vital for our hobby. Nay, essential. For without them, wargaming would wither on the vine and decay rapidly. For our experiences are, by and large, social and supportive and without the encouragement and support of our fellows, and the chance to meet up with such like minded souls, what would be the point of all of those toy soldiers and the hours we invest into their creation?

Let us return to the image I began this blog post with. I cannot recall who painted it, but it was produced during the early days of Warhammer 40,000 and represents the main 'human' forces of the Imperium at that time; Imperial Guard, Space Marine and Squat. If you look closer, and are familiar with Rogue Trader iconography, you will notice that the majority of the figures in the painting wear the emblems of the medical corps. This is an image of a last stand, and despite imminent destruction, humanity stands united in all its forms against an unseen foe. Sprawled backwards across the earth lies an ork, giving some indication of who these soldiers are fighting, and the immolated carcass of another marine gives a stark, brutal prophecy of the fate for those still fighting. 

Stirring stuff indeed. 

I see a subtext in that image. I see the community I used to know, way back in the 1980s, and the one we have worked so hard to build today. A community made of quite different people (represented by the difference 'races' of the Imperium) who by working together and pooling their differences, create a whole far stronger than the sum of its parts. Everybody is on the same page as they say, and are unified in their enjoyment of fantasy wargaming. As it has to be if our hobby is to survive. 

The estate agent has just popped in to drop off some paperwork for my wife. He laughed as I told him he'd missed her once again. Unsurprisingly, the subject of Citadel miniatures was soon brought up, though not by me, and our friendly local estate agent went on about his adventures on eBay and Facebook last night. With passion, he explained to me of his interest in the Fiend Factory range and how he is considering collecting all of the models he had as a youth, his eyes beaming with the delight of the hunt and of a beloved hobby restored. 

Earlier on in the week, I was in London. I had an hour or so of free time, so popped into a Local Friendly Gaming Store I had discovered on my phone as I am always interested in the wider wargaming world, and attend Salute every year without fail. I was quite surprised what I saw. Two groups of gamers on opposite sides of the venue doing two very different things. 

The first group epitomised everything I despise about wargaming. Two charmless individuals were lining up rank upon rank of black undercoated chunky plastic 40k kits, some larger than my daughter's dolls, and fussing over the meta. As I browsed the racking, I eavesdropped on their argument. It appeared that one of them took offence to the other gamer's inclusion of a specific unit and it's armament. Apparently, it wasn't legal! This resulted in some quite fierce words and much scrummaging through rulebooks and computer print outs. 

On the other side of the room a bunch of kids were playing something on a smaller table. Shrieks of joy and friendly banter filled the space around them. Walking over, I saw a varied collection of brightly painted models and it was clear that each youth had brought in their own collection, for there was an obvious style to the little groups of models. I realised quite quickly that this must be a game of Age of Sigmar in action and that the young gamers had adapted the rules as they are to suit their own needs.

The younger players we suddenly distracted by one of the most extraordinary things I have ever seen in wargaming. One of the older players, who ready should have known better with children around, swore very explicitly and actually threw one of his complicated looking 40k kits onto the floor of the gaming shop, smashing the the model to pieces! Even his dulled eyed opponent had enough wit to look up in surprise from his glossy codex. The furious player then stalked out of the shop, abandoning his collection of toot and disappeared up the street, striking out at lamp posts and recycling bins all the way. An anxious manager peered perplexedly from the doorway, probably wondering what all the fuss was about before retreating with a shrug back behind his counter. his reaction made me wonder if this was a common occurrence.

What happened to Warhammer 40,000? The game I remember playing was new, exciting and vibrant. The enthusiasm I felt was mirrored by gamers all over the country, in independent stores and of course in White Dwarf. Even in the early days of the internet there was a joy about the game. An excitement and it was fascinating to watch all of the characters at GW develop the game during the Silver Age of Pawl Sawyer as editor of White Dwarf. We all seemed to be on the same page. Now, it is hard to find anything but hatred for the game, or in-fighting. Scroll through any of the many online forums concentrating on the game and you'll see page after page of bitter resentment at GW for 'nerfing' the game and pointless bickering between supposed players of the system!

Was it always like this? Were the gaming groups I knew as a youth, and the ones I know now, in the minority?

In my opinion, Warhammer 40,000 has been destroyed by its players. It seems to me that by far the largest majority of them demand that GW does absolutely everything for them, and then complain if any changes (to rules, background or the miniature ranges) go against their individual needs and desires. Hey, whatever happened to free thinking?

No wonder I am hearing whispers of 40k receiving its own 'End Times' event and the launch of a very different edition of the game. Games Workshop would be doing the right thing if they just dumped the entire backstory and did an 'Age of Sigmar' version of Warhammer 40,000. The future of the game does not belong to the bitter rules lawyers and their black primed hordes of plastic toys, but to the passionate and eager youth and their fantasy 'space marines'. Clubbing together a few sets of Age of Sigmar and battling it out with your mates on a Saturday afternoon is as close as you can get to the much discussed 'Oldhammer Spirit' and totally at odds to the 'win at all costs' mentality of so many 40k players that I meet.

Space Marine models are the biggest sellers that GW have for good reason, they are what the younger generation of gamers enjoy playing with. So if Fenris is set to be bombed by the Dark Angels and a new civil war between the Space Marine chapters is set to explode, then fair play to GW if they inspire more younger gamers to take up the hobby and enjoy rolling dice with their friends, then a very well done should go to them! That is, and was, what fantasy wargaming should be all about.

To conclude, let us return once more to the piece of art I used to open this blog post. The humans we see huddled together, defiant against death and eternal in their support of each other despite the differences in their nature. They represent us! The community spirited gamers, no matter their age, ruleset or miniature preference. As a gamer and collector, all I want to see is the same passion I hold dear for this hobby in others - what they are actually playing is irrelevant. But we are few. Surrounding the heroes in the painting above are the dark and unknown 'foe', bent on the Imperium's utter destruction. And surrounding us, through no fault of our own, are the dark, faceless forces of '40k playerz', our own inexorable foe, who hold only one commandment dear:

In the grim darkness of the far future...

There is only winning!