On wargaming, the hobby and escapism

With the anniversary of our blog and our 200th post approaching, Eric took the commendable initiative of suggesting we all write a small post to celebrate the event. For me, this comes at a strange time in my life. With real life issues and real world drama resting heavy on my shoulders, for a while I couldn’t decide what to write. Terry Pratchett’s famous inspiration particles seemed to miss my neurons completely. Hence I decided to write a brief essay on the wargaming hobby as a form of escapism, and its impact on my own little life.
You might recall Eric’s moving tribute to wargaming and the hobby from a few years back. I share many of his feelings in that post.

It all begann with a box…

I started wargaming back in the 90s with the famous 4th edition Warhammer box, pitching goblins against high elves. This box quickly became my gateway into the world of fantasy games, roleplaying games, fighting fantasy novels, terrain crafting and so on. And in the first years it was mostly just a hobby. One I shared with a few friends.

While attending university, the hobby became ever more secondary and was soon just a memory from a bygone era, with my pile of shame gathering dust and my precious Citadel Colours slumbering in a drawer in my parents’ attic.
And it took until my late twenties/early thirties, when I rediscovered my love for miniature warfare and fantastic worlds. Some parts of the journey that began in these days are documented on this blog. A lot more isn’t.

On change and the hobby

As I said, I recently came to reflect on the nature of our shared hobby. Especially from my own vantage point. I noticed a shift in the purpose of the wargaming hobby. It is still but a game, but more than that, it is a wonderful form of escapism. Setting up armies to fight epic/disastrous battles; guide small bands of heroes in their quests; creating marvelous worlds like the gods of old…

A period that stuck to my mind was the Covid pandemic. Being involuntarily confined, we were ever so often cut off from social contact, many isolated and miserable. I am sure you have in your circle people who suffered greatly in those days. Those days saw the advent of solo game systems. Existing ones rose to new prominence, while the industry and independent creators pumped out new ones.
And with the increasing digitalisation of the hobby, including 3D printing and the sheer mass of video channels dedicated to the hobby, the community evolved. Oddly enough it became both more democratic (as in accessible to more people) and elitist (looking at you, gatekeepers and powergamers).

Since we wargaming nerds are naturally reclusive people, we did thrive in our ingenuity. At one point, Eric and I even set up a Frostgrave game where we each played solo in our respective homes, but over video chat. We made up rules so that the effects of one player’s game impacted the other’s.

I myself found particular joy in creating small scenarios with backstories and house rules for Frostgrave (using some solo mechanics), Rangers of Shadow Deep (both by Joe McCullough), Five Leagues from the Borderlands, or Sellswords and Spellslingers. (The last one is a highly underrated game and I recommend you check it out). Skirmish games became my new love affair, being deprived of proper RPG games and with solo mass battles practically impossible. The warband leader becoming my avatar in a world of my own making.

the hobby as an escape hatch

In a way, the hobby became a means to retain some sanity in a mad world. I admit, I did hide in it. But hiding can be ok at times. And where better to hide, than in a pile of cardboard ruins, Iceland moss hedges and styrofoam hills.
The crafting and painting part was very therapeutic. The sense of achievement you feel once you see a warband on a board with your terrain, crafted with care (and sometimes frustration), can be beyond measure. 
When all falls apart, one can set up a world, that was somehow “ok”… despite the obligatory dark threat looming over your miniature world that your mini-heroes have to fight.

In our little group, wargaming is also a means to keep contact, to share some time with others on familiar ground. Be it on the small scale battlefield, via chat or (because we are cool) on our discord server.
Like the crafting and painting aspect of the hobby, gaming sessions are also therapeutic. Since we are among friends, we share thoughts and fears or simply vent about the madness of the modern world. Not always “sponsored by alcohol”.

There are times, when life seems harsh. Harsh enough, that even the hobby you love cannot spark any joy. That is true. But hopefully, eventually, when one emerges from the hole one sits in, one’s collection, one’s imagination and one’s warlike ardour wait for one like an old friend.

And with that, I conclude this small love letter to the wargaming hobby. I beg you forgive my sentimental rambling and I thank you for taking the time to read through it.
Happy Gaming (more than just a closing phrase)

David