Death by paint

My children have discovered the other obsession that comes with Warhammer: painting miniatures. They’ve been wanting to paint some since I first started introducing them to the game, and this weekend I finally relented. Now their every free minute goes toward painting. Their skills are improving.

But they’re also discovering the down-side of long painting sessions: muscle cramps. Sitting for hours hunched over a table applying minute amounts of paint over tiny bits of detail can be a real pain the neck. And I mean that. The neck, the back, the hands, the shoulders, and several other places.

On the other hand, the satisfaction that comes from inspecting your painted miniatures when you’re finished is enough to make it all worth it. The thrill you get from watching your hard work marching across the tabletop to death and glory is considerable. The agony when they get wiped out…stinks. That’s another downside. Your miniatures never seem to appreciate just how much work you put in on them, and they refuse to make valiant stands against all odds just because you put extra work into them to make them look nice. They simply decide to look nice as they die. Ingrates.

I suppose I should be glad that the level of painting has nothing to do with the effectiveness of your minis in battle. If that were that case I’d lose to just about everyone I play. I visited a friend last week whose orc chieftain could have laid waste to my army all by himself were that the case. I suppose I’ll stick with the mortician outlook: make sure they look nice as you lay them in the ground.

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