John McClane’s Feet Are More Dramatic Than An Eldar Wraithknight.

[YorkNecromancer]

John McClane’s Feet Are More Dramatic Than An Eldar Wraithknight.

Hello and welcome to this month's [url=https://yorknecromancer.wordpress.com/]TL;DR[/url]. This month: on embracing your weaknesses.

"Karl: Schieß dem Fenster..."

When ‘Die Hard’ was released in 1988, it brought about an almost total paradigm shift in how action films were presented. Until John McClane, the action heroes hidden inside the sacred, filth-encrusted VHS boxes my brother and I rented from the Tudor Wine Merchants were indestructible he-men whose steroid streams probably didn’t have any room left in them for blood. After ‘Die Hard’? The bodydonnas disappeared forever.


Pictured: That's pretty tricky with that accent. You oughta be on f**king TV with that accent. But what do you want with the detonators, Hans?

McClane became the template for every action hero that followed, and there’s a simple reason why:

He goes through the whole film barefoot as a hillbilly.

Okay, now, hear me out.

So there’s a reason they’re called ‘movies’; it’s because they move. Comparing film to writing is like comparing football to snooker: they’re an entirely different experience, invoking entirely different emotional responses. Writing allows you to get into a character’s head in a way that no other art form permits… But only films let you see. There’s a reason Quidditch is boring to read about but amazing to watch.

This fundamental difference means that while in literature there’s a primacy given over to thoughts, feelings and internal monologues, in movies, there’s a primacy given over to visuals, aesthetics, movements.

Action defines character.

John McClane starts ‘Die Hard’ completely alone. So far, he’s no different to Arnie in ‘Commando’, that other perfect 80’s action film, and ‘Die Hard’s diametric opposite.


Where ‘Die Hard’ differs is that McClane is NOT indestructible. McClane’s power doesn’t come from a gym-chiselled physique, carved from brutal hours of lifting that heavy, heavy iron. If Arnie is Herakles, McClane is Odysseus – a [url=http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/GuileHero]guile hero[/url], forced by circumstance to rely on wit and intellect to defeat an otherwise superior foe.

His bare feet are the ultimate symbol of this. We walk everywhere in shoes, and as a result, bare feet are a symbol of safety. Shoes provide protection, socks provide warmth, but bare feet? Bare feet are utterly vulnerable: McClane is never in control of the situation. The terrorists are so dominant, he’s not even got time to pull his socks on before he’s out the door. Frankly, I’m amazed they allowed him the dignity of trousers.

Later, when Karl the German doesn’t recognise his own language and has to be told to shoot the windows in English, that’s when we really get to see McClane’s vulnerability, as well as the kind of man he is. has to run barefoot across broken glass. With bleeding feet he exterminates his enemies with the efficiency of a Dalek on a sugar rush. It’s only after the adrenaline has worn away that we see the price he’s been forced to pay, pulling jagged fangs of splintered crystal from his heels and dropping them in the bloody, bloody sink…


Pictured: my tummy still feels funny looking at this…

At no stage is McClane safe, but he just doesn't care: he never, ever quits. Ever. And it’s not because he’s got superpowers. It’s not because he’s got a ridiculous physique. It’s because someone he loves is in peril, and he’s doing what he’s got to do. Every injury leaves him hurting, but he just doesn’t give up, and it’s through that suffering that his heroism is hewn.

Through his vulnerability, we see his brilliance. Through his weakness, we see his strength. Darkness allows for light.

If ‘Commando’ is awesome because sometimes we just want to watch Herakles bash in the Nemean Lion’s head with a tree trunk, ‘Die Hard’ is awesome because sometimes we want to see a hero get through just because he’s too f**king ornery to quit. McClane’s oh-so-human fragility makes his exceptional skills stand out all the more; the fact he's vulnerable is what makes 'Die Hard' one of the greatest Christmas films of all time, if not the greatest.

It’s just like wrestling.

Doing The Job.

Wrestling, as I’m sure you all know, is fake. It certainly was back when I used to do it. Of course, given the fact that if you do it for any length of time, you’re going to end up living with pain as a constant companion for the rest of your life, it’s not really ‘fake’ so much as fixed. Our bodies write a cheque in youth that we cash in old age, and I’ve always found it ironic that you’re safer as an real MMA fighter than you ever will be as a fake wrestler (or, in wrestling’s wonderful sociolect, a ‘worker’).

Whenever I tell people I used to wrestle, the second thing they always ask is ‘did you win?’

I always answer that the same way: why does that matter?

See, they might know it’s fake, but they can’t get their heads around the fact that this means it’s not a sport… So winning might not necessarily be the measure of how successful I was. Wrestling is theatre, and theatre tells a story.

The goal is to make the crowds react, to get them as passionate as they can, just like an action film, or a Greek myth. This means that when you’re a wrestler, winning might not be a good thing. What’s important is getting the right reaction from the crowds.

Did I win?

Well, I was always a heel (essentially, a villain), so my job was to make the crowd despise me. I needed to get those boos, so I went after them, hard. I first expressed surprise that so many people could afford to be here; I didn’t think the dole paid that well. Then I explained to the grandmother in the front row that her children looked not so much like they had been hit by the ugly stick as massaged with it, and asked would she mind putting a paper bag over their heads? When she got angry, I explained that it was okay: I understood she couldn’t afford them, not now her looks were gone. So I handed her a pair of paper bags with a friendly smile. When the face (the hero) ran down to the ring, I ran and hid behind the ref. When the match began, I used every dirty trick: low blows, eye gouges, slaps to the face…

Needless to say, the boos came… But why did I need those boos? Why would anyone want people to despise them?

Because that’s the job. The thrill of the match lies not just in good’s triumph but evil’s defeat. If two faces fight, it’s not terribly satisfying, because that means someone you like is going to lose. Likewise, if two heels go at it, why should I care? All that means is someone I hate is going to win. The face/heel dynamic works because it means that someone I like is going to come out on top, and someone I loathe is going to be humbled.

So, did I win?

Well, lying on my back, looking at the lights as the ref counted the 1,2,3, I got the perfect view of my mate Mark while the crowd cheered him for finally laying me spark the f**k out. He went to the old lady I’d insulted, shook her hand, and gave her grandchildren high fives. It was beautiful, and without me, none of that would have been possible.

Wrestling’s not a sport. No matter how much non-fans will sneer, it’s art, and on that night, as I walked out defeated past people who had cared so much about seeing me get got… That loss was one of the greatest victories of my life. As an artist, the only thing that matters is for your art to get a reaction. It doesn’t matter if it’s a film, or a book, or a game. The reaction is all there really is.

Salesmanship

The key component to any wrestling match is what’s called ‘selling’. [url=http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TheatricsOfPain]Selling[/url] is the fine art of convincing an audience that you are in pain when you’re really not. Or, as is more often the case, that only the parts of your body that are narratively consequential are in pain. For example, you’ll hide the real, crippling pain in your back you’ve had all week – the one so bad you were crying for an hour the night before. Meanwhile, you’ll be selling the fictional pain in your knee – the one the face has been working over all match long, so that when he finally hits you with the ankle lock, his victory looks credible.

Selling moves is really the cornerstone of the art, because it allows a crowd to suspend their disbelief. Wrestling fans know what’s what, and have done since [url=https://sports.vice.com/ca/article/the-forgotten-steroid-trial-that-almost-brought-down-vince-mcmahon]1993 and the Zahorian drug scandal[/url]. We know it’s fake. We just don’t care, for the same reasons we don’t care that Robert Downey Jr. can’t fly in his little tin suit, or we don’t care that Night Lord helmets can’t fit through doors. When the story is fun, when you care about the characters, when you’re invested in the narrative, everything else just falls away.

The Fine Art of The No-Sell.

Now, the flip side of selling is ‘no-selling’; this is (obviously) when a worker doesn’t sell a move: they give the impression that the move had no effect. Now, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. If you want to see no-selling done well, have a watch of the last few minutes of [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=20w__8CpZhk]this classic match[/url]. It’s Bret Hart vs. Stone Cold Steve Austin, and is a masterclass in how to use selling and no-selling to tell a story.

The goal of the match was simple: Austin was a heel, but needed to turn face. So, after a match so violent it ended up with Austin’s face pissing blood, he ends up in Hart’s deadly submission move.

Now, you watch Austin’s body language at the end of the match, and it’s clear: he’s got nothing left. His face is etched with pain. He’s battered, and his eyes are so thick with blood he can’t even see any more.

But if he taps out, then he’s surrendered. And he hates Bret Hart so much, the idea is anathema to him. He’d rather let Bret Hart break his legs than give him the satisfaction. But Hart hates him too much to do that; Hart would rather have Austin in pain forever than give him release. These are two men who f**king despise one another – an immovable object caught in an unstoppable force.

In the end, Austin passes out. He simply refuses to tap, and passes out. Hart might have won… But it’s tainted. He wanted Austin to submit to his superior skill, and he’s been denied.

Austin does a very clever sell-job in this match. He sells the excruciating pain of Hart’s attacks. This gets across two important pieces of character information: Bret Hart is a dangerous, deadly combatant, and Austin is vulnerable to him. Then, by not tapping out, he strategically no-sells Hart’s finishing move. This conveys more character information: Stone Cold Steve Austin doesn’t quit. Ever. Oh, he may pass out, he may lose the match, but he never quits.

And people love that. We love a good [url=http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/Determinator]Determinator[/url]. By the end of the match, Austin had the crowd were firmly behind him: he was now a face. All through careful ‘[url=http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/WrestlingPsychology]ring psychology[/url]’: the deliberate application of selling and no-selling.

So no-selling isn’t automatically bad. It can create incredibly powerful narratives.

That said, there are other times when…



Yeah.

The Problem of [url=http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/LensmanArmsRace]The Lensman Arms Race.[/url]

When selling is the norm, no-selling looks impressive as hell, because you’re impervious to injury. Every wrestler wants to seem like a scary, credible threat in the ring, and no-selling is an easy way to do that. In the Eighties, only a few wrestlers were allowed to no-sell: The Legion of Doom, Ultimate Warrior, and (perhaps most famously) The Undertaker.


Pictured: Mark Calloway, financial investor and owner of a not-insignificant Texan property portfolio.

Since those days, there’s been an increase in no-selling, with more and more wrestlers shrugging off what should be life-ending moves in an effort to seem like bigger and more deadly badasses than anyone else.

And that’s a problem. The whole point of selling is to establish that in-ring moves are dangerous. Speaking as someone who’s been on the receiving end of more than a few, let me assure you: they are. A simple standing suplex hurts more than you would readily believe. If it looks like it hurts, believe me, it hurts.


Pictured: nope.

But when everyone’s no-selling, well. The crowd becomes conditioned to believe it doesn’t hurt. Moves lose credibility, and everyone gets caught up in an 'arms race' as to who can pull off the craziest moves.


Pictured: And I do mean ‘craziest’. Serioulsy, how does a human even do things like this?

Everything gets bigger, more and more absurd, more over the top, until people are literally risking their lives to pull off manoeuvres. And this is why selling is so important: spectacle is important, but the greatest fireworks display can only ever be beautiful. It can’t be more than that. A match made up of nothing but crazy moves isn’t a match, because there’s no greater meaning to what’s happening there.

When protagonists are unable to show vulnerability – weakness – the story loses an important quality. It loses drama. Like McClane, our heroes need to be able to suffer. We don’t care about the hero because they’re unbeatable.

We care about them because they aren’t.

THE COMPLETE DESTRUCTION OF REALITY ITSELF!!!


Pictured: restraint.

Speculative fiction is more guilty of no-selling than any other genre. Superman can lift an island made of Kryptonite into space. Batman can fight off a thousand impoverished and starving muggers using only four million dollars of high-tech ninja gear. Tony Stark can throw nuclear missiles with his bare hands.

Sci-fi and fantasy are, for most people, escapism. They allow us to run away into a world where we have the power to execute their apprehended wishes.

Ever noticed how often there’s an apocalypse in these stories, though? I mean, it feels like the world is always ending.

That’s the consequence of no-selling. The Doctor runs into some jabronis who want to kill a person, and he stops them. Great, day won. But now the stakes have to go up, because otherwise there’s no risk. So now he has to save a planet. Then comes a solar system, then a galaxy, then the universe, then all of space-time, until the Doctor has to save all of reality itself.

A constant stream of victories, an endless parade of successes, and you very quickly run out of space to manoeuvre. After the Doctor stopped reality ending, where was there to go? Nowhere. It's gotten to they've started telling stories about how his greatest threat is himself, because honestly, who's left that can remotely be a threat to 'the lonely god'?

This problem isn’t unique to ‘Doctor Who’. After Buffy defeated a god, she ended up having to fight her best friend, turned evil by an entirely-too-convenient series of plot devices. When Dean and Sam defeated Satan himself, they fought a succession of hastily invented threats who we were somehow supposed to believe were MORE EVIL than the incarnation of pure evil. And how did this nonsense end? Why, with the brothers Winchester killing Death himself.

It just becomes silly, and it’s all because of no-selling. The hero has to be vulnerable. There has to be a real risk of loss, a real chance of failure, or else nothing matters.

The best example of this I can think of comes from ‘Game of Thrones’. For all its (manifold) failings, the one thing this show gets absolutely right is that you never know who’s going to make it out of a fight alive, and as a result, when a fight does come – especially when there’s someone you really care about, like, in my case, Brienne of Tarth – you’re on tenterhooks through the whole thing.


Pictured: 185 pounds of glorious f**k you.

Weakness and the potential of failure leads to drama. And that’s something that’s as critical to good game design as it is to stories.

Harmartia

The term hamartia derives from the Greek ἁμαρτία, from ἁμαρτάνειν hamartánein, which means "to miss the mark" or "to err". It is most often associated with Greek tragedy, although it is also used in Christian theology. Hamartia as it pertains to dramatic literature was first used by Aristotle in his Poetics. In tragedy, hamartia is commonly understood to refer to the protagonist’s error or flaw that leads to a chain of plot actions culminating in a reversal from their good fortune to bad. What qualifies as the error or flaw can include an error resulting from ignorance, an error of judgement, a flaw in character, or sin.

The ancient Greeks understood this concrete link between personal weakness and drama. Their theatrical genre of tragedy was actually a little more complex than the more modern idea. Essentially, a tragedy wasn’t just a sad story; it was a story where the protagonist’s own weaknesses led them to their demise. No matter what they might do, their own inflexible, flawed natures meant that there was nothing to be done to solve their problems, because the problem wasn’t the world: it was them.

Now, how does this relate to game design?

You remember that first conversion you did? The one where you got that Marine/Ork/Necron, dipped them in poly cement, and then threw them in your bits box? Remember how, when they came out, they looked like someone made a porcupine out of guns?

We’ve all done that conversion, jamming a silly number massive, absurdly oversized weapons onto models without any consideration of where the bullets are going to come from. But why?


Pictured: Dakka. Dakka is why.

Well, for the same reason people buy Titans. The same reason people come onto forums and brag about that Titans aren’t a threat to them because they play Eldar and can field an ungodly number of Destroyer shots. The same reason John Cena never sells a bloody thing.

Because I wanna be the guy. I wanna be indestructible. I wanna be unbeatable. Weakness is pathetic. Weakness angers me. I’m weak in real life in ways I don’t like to think about; I don’t wanna be weak in my hobby!

Are you sure, though? Be honest: if the game doesn’t have a chance we’ll lose, is it actually fun to play? If we can’t be tested, how do we know we’re as good as we think?

Just stop and have a think about those games. You know the ones I mean. Not the fun ones, or even the good ones, but the great ones. The ones you talk to your mates about down the pub. The ones where you haven’t made a mistake and neither has she. Where the dice haven’t betrayed you, but she’s been rolling just as well as you. The game where you both did everything right, and it’s neck and neck, and it’s the last round of the last turn, and the last dice roll and everything, everything hangs on this one roll. And if you make it, all your plans will have paid off, all that hard work just to get to this single chance.

Remember those games? Well they're not possible if you’re carrying an Uzi and your opponent’s got a pot lid.

Vulnerability is a key component of good game balance. Every army needs a flaw. A gaping vulnerability. A harmartia that a canny opponent can take advantage of and use. For the most part, this has always been a fundamental core to the game’s design. Armies have chopped and changed over time, but every one of them has some kind of fundamental failing that’s critical to the drama of playing them.

The List of 40K Army Harmartia

So what are the failings of each army? Well, I’ve listed what I think they currently are below, as well as what I personally feel they should be if the current one doesn’t fit the fluff. Of course, YMMV on all of this.

• Adepta Sororitas – Their dedication to bolter, flame and melta means that they’re generally poor at range and only middling at melee. This double whammy means their weapons force you to get close, where your low Toughness means you’re vulnerable to assault.
• Astra Militarum - Puny humans just can’t succeed as individuals, so you need to spam massive amounts of everything to succeed. All the Guard’s best units are deeply susceptible to assault, and they don’t have a strong counter-assault to that beyond tarpits.
• Cult Mechanicus – They don’t have any real anti-air, and their units, while powerful, are all weird. None of them are ‘fire and forget’, meaning they need real skill to be implemented, which makes sense given the Cult’s power lies in arcane technologies that are poorly understood.
• Chaos Space Marines – [url=http://www.belloflostsouls.net/2015/01/40k-deep-thought-chaos-will-never-win.html]For various reasons I’ve explained before[/url], they don’t – and shouldn’t – have access to all the shiny Imperial equipment, meaning they are forced to rely on expendable cultists, melee weapons and kewl magik powarz more than their Imperial counterparts. In 40K, your army can either run on sorcery or science, but not both.

Pictured: you either get to be the antichrist or a science princess is what I’m saying.

• Craftworld Eldar – They’re cripplingly overspecialised; without careful deployment of their specialists in exactly the right way, they fold like a house of cards. At least, that’s what it’s supposed to be. At the moment, I think one of the key balance issues of the game is that they’ve got things that allow them to sidestep this entirely, and it’s my opinion that this is what allows them to run roughshod over everyone.
• Dark Eldar – Like their Craftworld equivalents, they’re made of paper, but they don’t have the specialists, forcing their players to use desperate speed to stay alive. There should be concomitant ‘but they hit like a brick to the face’, but that hasn’t been true for years, sadly.
• Daemons – They’re chaotic, and therefore defenceless against their own nature and the whims of the Ruinous Powers’ fickle natures.
• Grey Knights – With great power comes smaller numbers. Also, you outrange exactly nothing and no-one; if you want to shoot at people, you’re almost always going to be close enough that they can shoot back.
• Harlequins – Their harmartia is the same as the Dark Eldar: horrifyingly squishy infantry, reliant on speed and illusion to survive.
• Imperial Knights – When power is this concentrated, well. Quantity is a quality all of its own, and one you struggle to deal with. When there’s only three of you, and that’s just not enough to swat all the flies and hold objectives.
• Khorne Daemonkin – overreliance on melee leaves them at risk of getting shot in the face.
• The Inquisition – A wide variety of troops… But they’re all primarily human, and therefore sub-par compared to everyone else’s specialists.
• Militarum Tempestus – Better armour and guns doesn’t mean you can go toe to toe with a daemon prince.
• Necrons – The ability to teleport doesn’t mean you’re fast, and being dead brings limitations, chief of which is that you’re very, very slow.
• Orks – Your boyz may be numerous, but they’re basically crap.
• Skitarri – same as Militarum Tempestus; you’re good at a lot of stuff, but you’re not really tough enough to take on other army’s specialists.
• Space Marines – You’re good at literally everything… And great at very little. And the things you do have that are great? Yeah, you’re not going to have many of those. I would argue that, in a way similar to Eldar, the presence of certain things enables the Astartes to mitigate these flaws too thoroughly (where with the Eldar it's undercosted Wraith units, with Astartes, its certain undercosted Formations) and that this may be a key issue in game balance that requires redress.
• Space Wolves – You’re rugged individuals… Which means you like being alive more than other Astartes. Enjoy your joei de vive by running away!
• Tau – Do I even need to say this one?

Pictured: a Crisis Suit takes on a Howling Banshee.

• Tyranids – In 1st edition it was the crippling dependence on assault (because you had exactly two units that could shoot). Now, it’s a crippling dependence on both synapse and unit synergy; every Tyranid unit needs a purpose and to be working with other units, or the legs are going to fall off your army in double-quick time.

Embrace Your Weaknesses

No-one likes the idea of being weak. But the thing is, without those weaknesses, our hobby is significantly less interesting. The idea of harmartia is as critical to good game design as it is to good storytelling, because the possibility of failure creates drama, and really, isn’t that why we game?

That’s it for this month, and, as always, thank you for reading. If you’ve enjoyed this, then feel free to [url=https://yorknecromancer.wordpress.com/2016/04/03/from-the-vaults-a-beginners-guide-to-scratchbuilding-a-servo-arm/]click this link[/url] to be taken to this month’s bonus content, a flashback to the vaults where I go through how to construct a servo-arm.

[Denzark]

Yorkie

Nice article thank you. I have PM'd you as you probably won't see this!

[Mr Mystery]

Yup.

Compare to the Dwarven Gunline of Numbing Inevitability.

An army which pretty much ignored the Dwarven shortcoming (pune!), and reduced the opponent's tactical options to 'get across the board as fast as I can, and hope to hell I've got enough troops to win the combats'.

It's genuine lost on me how someone can enjoy only ever playing entirely one sided games. Don't get me wrong - perfect storms can and do happen. Once in a while it can be a laugh to see your or yours opponent's army just get utterly thrashed.

But time after time after time? No ta, please. A large part of the game's challenge is just accepting your chosen army's natural deficiencies and playing round it.

[40kGamer]

Embrace Your Weaknesses

No-one likes the idea of being weak. But the thing is, without those weaknesses, our hobby is significantly less interesting. The idea of harmartia is as critical to good game design as it is to good storytelling, because the possibility of failure creates drama, and really, isn’t that why we game?

Really enjoyed the article! The converted model with guns attached to every single empty surface is both remarkably cool & humorously preposterous at the same time... nice find!

It is good game design to have a mix of strengths and weaknesses that are reflected during game play and these help determine the 'story' that plays out on the table. The need to build them into the game really complicates things (like balance) and creates odd situations where those inclined to 'glue on all the guns' exploit their freedom of choice to minimize, or eliminate, their weaknesses... which really creates boring games. I mean seriously wake me up when it's over...

It would be nice if there was a way to make the weaknesses inherent to the point that no amount of rules exploitation could minimize their effects. At the end of the day the fear of losing is just as exciting (if not more so) than the joy of winning.

I think everyone can agree that the close games where a person wins or loses by the skin of their teeth are infinitely more exciting and interesting than any one sided affair. We can all remember that last turn "Hail Mary pass" that actually succeeds or the variable length match where one player is feverishly praying for an extra turn while the other begs the dice gods to let the game end. These situations are bloody awesome! Does anyone really care about the time some poor bloke was erased from the board in the second turn?

[Kirsten]

bonus points for Herakles.

I completely agree on the weakness front, I hate all the comments and articles about how Tau need a melee unit, how every character needs the best weapons, armour and abilities. I always remember a BoLS article slamming Corbulo for not having a power weapon, and how he must have one to be useful. but then where do you stop? why doesn't he have a relic blade, storm shield and terminator armour as well? why isn't he a monstrous creature and a level 4 psyker? there has to be choice and differences. it is why I like playing 1500 point games. you can't take everything you want, you have to make sacrifices.

I never did make the model with all the guns though, it offended my sense of realism. that is why I made leman russes with limited alternate weapons that ultimately were never any better than the standard battle cannon.

[Defenestratus]

I knew it.

York is/was the British Bulldog.

I have a friend who is in the WWE and his "weakness" is vanity (a widespread downfall of many of Vince's f-ed up creations) and while you might be right that those things hurt, these guys know how to make things that hurt, hurt less which a good 40k player will learn how to do with their own army.

Another Eldar-bashing article it seems (albeit a nicely veiled one).

[Mr Mystery]

Tyler Breeze?

I dunno that this is Eldar bashing?

[CoffeeGrunt]

To be fair, a lot of people claim Tau's weakness doesn't matter. Didn't stop me losing to Khorne Daemonkin in a friendly game recently, and that was with a Ghostkeel slapping Skarbrand to death before the big guy got to swing. Other than that, constant FNP meant his units didn't die much and made it to combat, where I died a lot.

Personally I love the underdog human cliche. In Halo it's the UNSC. Dropzone it's UCM or Resistance, and in 40K it's the beloved Guard. You're crap, you're outgunned, and if your lucky there's more of you than them. Make it work, and make it work well enough to actually win. I like the fluff of the occasional weak, worthless human rising far above their station. That moment when a Guardsman Sergeant slaps a Chaos Champion to death with his butter knife. When a Priest leads a seething mass of humanity to bring down a Carnifex in tooth-and-nail combat. It gives a way sense of achievement when I win a challenge than, "my 200 year-old power-armoured supersoldier with the atom-severing blade just killed your's." Give me Guardsmen and I'll show you true heroes...I'll just lose a few martyrs in the process...

I also love a good, close game. If I'm smashing someone, it's not much fun, everything is mostly assured and it becomes a clinical mop-up procedure. When I'm losing, I have to try and make everything count. Everything has to act in a coordinated manner, with sufficient prayer to the Dice Gods to help. When I'm getting roflstomped it's as unfun as when I'm stomping, though. When it feels like you don't have a chance.

That said, I had a game of Dropzone lately where my UCM were getting stomped by a load of Resistance packing tonnes of tough tanks and fliers. My AA fire was ineffective at stopping them from engaging me, and my main troops were lost when the buildings they were searching for Objectives in were levelled by Barrel Bombers. Unable to reach my opponent to cause similar havoc, they got a couple of Objectives off the board, and victory was all-but-their's.

It was going to be a total, embarrassing wash. Not a single point on my side, until I realised that my AA picket that was set to guard a unit that was now dead was free, its Condor transport was alive and nearby, and there was a Focal Point I could drop them on next turn.

Cue the Condor picking them up and heading over under a hail of fire. Getting shot to its last point of HP, it drops the Rapier AA Tanks in-position, and starts working to mop-up the Resistance dudes holding that point. My opponent's tanks and Riders engage, failing to kill a single one. I divert what little artillery and support I had left to this one, last effort to score a single point. It had become the game, my opponent diverted their Commander's personal Heavy Tank to this position, the Dropship bringing it on was inbound.

The AA tanks I'd dropped on the point open up and kill transport, tank and Commander. I get a brace of VPs from his death, and while diverting more aid to that fight and engaging stragglers to keep them occupied with the rest of my force, I managed to have them hold the point unmolested 'til the bitter end.

It all ends, and I've lost, as I knew I would from turn 3 onwards. However, that fun game-within-a-game that became the focus was a game I won, and I'm all about the little victories. It was a fun story to tell to the others at the tournament day afterwards, and the Condor that limped to the Focal Point with the Rapiers aboard moved up to the top of the paint queue.

It's always nice to see the underdog win, I think.

[Charon]

To be fair, a lot of people claim Tau's weakness doesn't matter. Didn't stop me losing to Khorne Daemonkin in a friendly game recently, and that was with a Ghostkeel slapping Skarbrand to death before the big guy got to swing. Other than that, constant FNP meant his units didn't die much and made it to combat, where I died a lot.

That is because KDK has actually a way to EXPLOIT that weakness.
Dirt cheap 12" moving, terrain ignoring strong melee units with an invul save and FnP.



Just try to remove the movement effect and suddenly "vulnerable to melee" is no more issue if you get another 2 turns to shoot them.
And as the majority of armies is not a combination from these traits, this "weakness" is far less an issue.

Further "vulnerable to melee" is a badly designed flaw.
Compared to Tau, a chaos havoc squad is good at melee. To the Bloodthirster that just assaulted it does not matter if you are a Tau, an imperial solider or a Space Marine.

Which is also why this is wrong:

Craftworld Eldar – They’re cripplingly overspecialised; without careful deployment of their specialists in exactly the right way, they fold like a house of cards. At least, that’s what it’s supposed to be. At the moment, they’ve got things that allow them to sidestep this entirely, and it’s my opinion that this is what allows them to run roughshod over everyone.

They dont have "things" that allow them to sidestep a weakness. The whole game is about creating specialised units. And Eldar create the best specialized units.
That is why they will always come out on top if they do not get restricted by points.
Do you run a squad with a 4 different heavy weapons often? No. You don't.
You usually run ONE heavy weapon 4 times. You SPECIALIZE your squad to be dedicated tank hunters or dedicated anti-horde.
Eldar do this by design.
You dedicated anti tank unit has 5 guys with 2 meltas? Nice... mine has 5 guys with 5 meltas. I dont have to pay the tax for 3 guys that cant hurt the tank.

In 40K, your army can either run on sorcery or a science, but not both.

Except you are Space marines or Eldar.

[grimmas]

Excellent stuff, when I worked in York we had a customer who wrestled, I seem to remember he did it under the name Razorwire. It's been a while so my recollection may be off and I can't for the life of me remember his real name.

Anyway great article really enjoyed it. It's the only context in which Bruce Willis is superior to Arnie though.😝