Point-Based Painting

Today I’d like to look directly at one of the core reasons this blog was created: miniature painting. Several of those of us who have sat around the Grim Dark Kitchen have at one time or another dabbled in miniature painting and currently several of us are building up our armies once more. Orks, tau, space marines, elder and tyranids adorn are table in half assembled and half painted states … sitting in the perpetual pipe dream of army completion.

Well the time has come to motivate. Several hobby blogs have various ‘motivation point-based systems’ for miniature painting. Below I’ve listed an example. Five different types of mini’s are listed, and each group has a point value. For each fully completed mini of that category points are awarded.

A goal should be set. I prefer a weekly goal as it accommodates my assembly line painting style best. The objective is to achieve that many points each week until army completion. Be realistic with your goal. If you only paint for 2 hours a week a goal of 20 points is largely unreasonable.

Remember only completed minis count. Ones you’ve varnished, based, spit-polished, photographed, and placed in the army box … waiting to be joined by a remaining fully completed army. If you intend to go back and add detail later, a symbol here, a pupil there … it isn’t finished, so don’t count it.

Here are the points:

1 point Infantry*

2 point Bikes & Large Infantry*
3 point Artillery*

4 point Independent Characters*
5 point Monstrous Creature & Vehicles*

Infantry:
28 mm based units, ie. space marines, eldar guardians, and plaugebearers.

Bikes and Large Infantry:
40 mm and 25x50 mm based units, ie. terminators, jetbikes, ogryn, and broodlords.

Artillery:
multi based heavy support teams, usually a gun and two operators.

Independent Characters:
named infantry and HQ’s, this is for those mini’s you take extra time with because they are meant to stand out in your army, in the case of monstrous HQ’s such as hive tyrants, take the higher value.

Monstrous Creature & Vehicles:
60 mm bases, or no base at all, ie. dreadnaughts, wraithlords, carnifex, and chimeras.

I propose that those of us who are sitting in the Grim Dark Kitchen begin using this point based system with the start of September. I will set myself up with 10 points per week and will hopefully be posting a nice Guardian unit in the next few days. If we’d like to go so far as to keep a communal running tally, I could put together a spreadsheet and keep track … pictures of course could be posted here to show our progress.

...an Example

The following is an example of the 10 minutes background,using my current PC, a cleric from the Dark Heresy [Warhammer 40k] game.

Haruul Garvela – Ecclesiarch Redemptionist: Acolyte of the Inquisition

Concepts -
* Haruul is Schola Progenium, his parents were members of the planetary defense on an uncharted planet that vanished into the warp, leaving him to the boarding schools of the emperor’s faithful.
* Haruul is a puritan to the core, as a redemtionist he boarders on insane, believing anyone can be found guilty of heresy if enough scrutiny is brought to bear.
* Haruul believes fully in the Ecclesiarchy and the vision of the God-Emperor. However he finds himself perpetually frustrated with the Ecclesiarchy’s lax attitude towards flushing out heresy, and its susceptibility to taint from within. Because of this Haruul has found his calling as a roving battle pilgrim: spreading the emperor’s edicts while traveling, and cleansing and purifying the unclean on the way.
* Haruul grew up in great luxury on Scintilla in the care of the Imperium. But once completing his training in the Ministorium his fondness of purging the unclean gained him a posting in the lower hab blocks of Gunmetal City with gangers, workers, and mutants. It was in the belly of Gunmetal City that Haruul joined the Redemption and was recruited by the inquisition.
* Haruul is burnt from the neck down, badly. In his youth there was a terror attack on one of the shrines he was working at that left him in a burn ward for several painful months. This has only fueled the firebug long since burning within Haruul’s soul.

Goals -
* Haruul’s primary goal is to destroy heretics en mass, more specifically however, he believes it was no accident that the planet his parents were on was swallowed by the warp, and he would like to bring to justice the heretical cults of chaos that robbed him of his upbringing.
* Personally I’d like to see Haruul climb the ladder within the Imperium where he can head and fund a school of redemptionist pilgrims within the structure of the ecclisarchy. One that will train young priests to travel the multiverse, record the many different cults of the emperor and purge through holy flame the enemies of man.

Secrets -
* Haruul has several data slates filled with dossiers on everyone he has ever met, worked for, worked with, or done business with. He consistently updates and references the dossiers to make certain no associate of his slips down the slope to heresy.
* Haruul is unaware of the second “secret” concerning him. Recently the warp swallowed planet that took his parents from him returned. Naval security has closed of the sector and kept the news of its return quite until the Holy Ordos can do a complete investigation.

Contacts -
* Aduro Manya is a fellow Schola Progenium that Haruul grew up with, he works in the Ministorium of Scintilla. Haruul keeps as close a relationship as he is capable of with Aduro, and Aduro kindly looks past Haruul’s trust issues.
* Another old associate of Haruul is Vitros Ultion. Vitros is a radical ecclesiarch that Haruul accused of heresy during daily mass. The accusation was never looked in to, but ever since Vitros has made complications for Haruul whenever possible.
* Tealum Pascor is a powerful man in the under city of Gunmetal. He is a well-connected arms dealer who works closely with the Redemption. He is a business man first and foremost and supplies large amounts of weaponry to the Redemptionist and under hive gangs. While he operates below the radar of the local authorities, he maintains a taint and corruption free operation, and regularly reports heretical actions to the Redemption … for a marginal fee.

Memories and Mannerisms -
* Despite his burns, Haruul has an unnatural affinity for flames.
* Haruul remembers the panic when he learned of his parents’ fate, a feeling that has caused many of his trust issues to develop.
* Haruul has a nervous twitch where the fingers on his left hand constantly move as if he were typing.

10 - Minute Background

So several months ago William and I were talking, discussing the idea of a communal blog of nerdiness, one that would embody our joint love of table-top gaming & hobbying. This was followed by his creation of Grim Dark Kitchen. Several posts later I’ve finally gotten around to contributing.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading the slowly developed background of Mr. Arthur Monroe. It was well thought out and very well done. As a frequent game master, and as a regular player, I feel character background and concept is the backbone to enjoying the game. If you don’t know what motivates your character how are you going to know how he/she should respond when they stumble upon a piece of forbidden xenos technology?

However, many, myself included, are not nearly as talented is Mr. Daggerburg here when it comes to writing. For this, I have a solution. Several years ago I stumbled upon a 10 minute character creation. I’ve used it several times, making it mandatory for players. While I’m typically loath to make anything mandatory, I’ve found that it is just thought provoking enough to get a player thinking about their characters motivations. It also gives the GM a few tidbits of opportunity to pull the players background into the regular sessions.

The last time I requested my players fill out the 10-minute background I got the standard communal groan, in unison, from all of them. However, like champs they all sat down to try and oblige. What should have been a minor task of filling in the blank resulted in a soul searching experience for many of them. While the background is simply a short answer work sheet, all of them provided me with a background in story form. There is something to be said for that.

So without further ramblings, I present the 10 minute background:

Step 1: Write five background concept elements that pertain to the image of your character. This can include physical appearance, personality traits, and important life events; anything big that helps get the image in mind.

Step 2: List at least two goals for your character. One of these should be a goal the character has, and one should be a goal you as the player has. Be creative, and try to avoid “as I player I want a cool magic item” answers.

Step 3: List two secrets about your character. One I a secret the character knows, one is a secret that involves the character, but the character is unaware of. This helps GM’s create plot points that revolve around the character. Lastly, it bares mentioning that the GM should create a third secret that the player is unaware of, allowing for some unexpected turns in the characters in game development.

Step 4: Describe at least three people the character knows. Two should be friendly to the character, one should be hostile. This eliminates the “an old friend contacts you” hook, and replaces it with something of the characters own choosing.

Step 5: Describe three memories, mannerisms, quirks, or ticks your character has. These needn’t be overly descriptive, just enough to provide context and flavor.

That’s it; a simple means to encourage character development, before the first die is ever rolled, one that doesn’t require the master penmanship of Mr. Daggerburg.

Entry 10

I awoke yet again, and to a despicable site. Dianne’s body had been horridly desecrated by the dogs and I was woefully still alive. Unexplainably, I felt bloated, though I had eaten nothing in days. What’s more, the wounds on my hands, and those which I must have sustained from the wolves, were all healed. Dumbfounded and hopeless, I covered what remained of Dianne and left town.
I wandered for weeks, and stole food and drink where I could. My strength had returned, but my sorrow consumed me and my body felt foreign. I will spare you the grotesque details of my next discovery and simply say that I am cursed. At times, I hunger for blood and my body changes. To what exactly, I do not know, but I am certain that it is the Hound’s punishment for leaving its needs unattended during our spring travels… so long ago.

I cannot predict these episodes, and they are not particularly common, but the things that I have done when they occur are secrets that I will take to my grave – should I ever achieve it. I’ve exhausted my own knowledge on the subject and am desperate. Enough, even, to lay this tale before a perfect stranger. I wish to master this curse and I have heard of your extensive knowledge of the arcane and metaphysical. I write to you, Gregor Norrell, in desperate need of your aid, and am traveling to your library even as you read this. I pray that you will receive me when I arrive.

Most Sincerely,
Arthur Monroe



So that wraps up Arthur's introduction. Gregor Norrell, is one of friend Pat's characters, and is both a willing and obvious target for Arthur's letter.

I'll delve into some of the details of inspirations and such tomorrow, but does anyone have any thoughts on character building, back stories, best practices, etc?

Entry 9

The baying hounds were close but I dared not spare a glance and slow my fervent digging. My knuckles were raw and bloody from the sharp stones in the earth and my delicate fingertips felt like little more than boney stubs. A hot rain began to pour down. When I reached her body, the linens around here were soaked with telltale crimson stains and newer splotches of brown mud.

My pursuers were close. I could hear their heavy paws pounding across the fields, the cobblestoned paths, and over the graves of villagers long past. I was tormented by their guttural, slavering taunts, loud as thunder in my ears. Dianne’s black hair still flowed from the wrappings and I was thankful that she had not been burned. I was satisfied to very shortly meet my own demise here next to her. Their growls had grown ever present, but only now could I see the rain turning to steam around me. They were above us, around us, upon us. As I felt the first white hot teeth dig into my shoulder, I embraced my death.

GenCon?

So Gencon was this weekend and I know a handful of folks who went and enjoyed. Does anyone have any exciting events to report?

A bit of knowledge for you: GenCon was originated by the famed Gary Gygax who would later become the co-creator of D&D, to promote tabletop wargaming.

Entry 8

They could not have known that the mundane flames would not affect me, and I had every reason to let them believe that I was dead. Once the ropes around my hands and the cloth at my mouth burned away, I created a great cloud of colorful smoke to fill the square – I was capable of no more powerful spell in my condition – and I crept away to confirm Dianne’s fate as they reveled in my supernatural death. I fled to the graveyard.

There were more than a dozen fresh graves here and I continue to bear the guilt for their necessity, but there was only one grave that I cared to consider at the time. This single unmarked grave was set away from the others – in rocky soil, unsuitable for burial and unceremoniously covered. Surely this was Dianne – but I had to know for sure. I began digging even as a chorus of howls struck on the horizon. These were different, however; hinting at more than a single source and bearing a more tangible, if still chillingly immaterial character. I could not help but to notice that they were growing nearer.

Entry 7

As I entered the farmhouse to investigate I heard the ghastly howl once more. Was the Hound close? I could not tell. The echoes seemed to come from so very far, but I could feel their impossible vibrations in my chest! My nerves were raw and my wits were dulling fast. The wood of the home swelled in the heat and the entire structure seemed to creak and sigh around me. If it weren’t for this, I might have heard the ill-intentioned farmer sneaking up behind me. Instead, I received a blow to the head, a vengeful oath and fitful rest of indeterminable length.

I awoke in a spell of nausea, with my hands bound behind my back and a quaking pain behind my blurry eyes. It took several moments for my vision to clear, but in that time I learned more than enough to understand the scenario that had unfolded. I was standing. My legs were bound to one another at the ankles and my waist was buttressed by a coil of rope that I shared with a column at my back. I made out the words “witches” and “shapeshifter”… I heard the name “Dianne.” Only then did I realize that beyond the taste of my own blood was a rag tied across my mouth. What protestations I could piece together in my mind were muffled and meaningless to the townsfolk around me, and it seemed that there would be no reasoning with them anyway. The terrible truth was laid before me: the Beast had been here and they suspected that Dianne and I had brought it. It killed many, and in return, they would kill us. After blinking away the swirls and spots before me, I could see clearly their satisfaction. Dianne, no doubt, was already dead, and I was the last remaining mark – standing on the edge of life, upon a witch’s pyre with fumes of oil thick around me. I would be burned at the stake.

Entry 6

It was impossible to know what factor time would play, but with no further clues, I made what haste I could toward the school house. How I was even alive was a mystery to me, but I choked down what I could of the bread and ambled toward the village. Whatever charm kept me alive was unlikely to grant the same fortune to the others.

As I walked I came across a pasture that was strewn with dead livestock. The doomed animals’ bodies were savagely eviscerated, half eaten and charred. The adjacent farmhouse would have appeared empty and harmless if it weren’t for one damning thing. Hanging daintily from a nail near the entrance of the structure, a torn piece of fabric struck me with dread. It was not a certainty, but the fabric’s color was recognizable, and I now had reason to suspect that Dianne had been here. But why? What interest would she have in this slaughter?

Entry 5

I fled in horror from the billowing curtains and chased patches of scorched earth to our doorstep. With a mixture of relief and concern I found that Dianne was gone - hopefully in town - and our home appeared undisturbed. I gathered a few items before heading back out to follow the tracks further. I took dusts and dried leaves to sharpen my senses, a dousing measure, and a cask of aged pitch that would aid in my spells to hinder the Hound if I was unfortunate enough to find it.

I rushed outside to coax water from the well, the pump bearing what weight my shaking legs were not sufficient to support. It was there that I first heard it – a distant howl that began as a low rumble and grew in volume until the clouds themselves seemed to tear. My mentor was on the hunt, but it was not until I ran to the kitchen that my composure was truly shattered. I reached into the cupboard to find that the bread, which had been palatable the night before, was hard, shrunken, and ridden with weevils. Days, perhaps a week had passed! Dianne….

Arthur Monroe, Four

Quick and easy, just stopping in for the fourth installment. However, I bought a couple new minis this weekend and hope to get some pics up soon as I paint them!



Entry 4

It was on that previously mentioned summer night, as my ghostly, projected spirit scanned every gothic spire and sludge-filled canal in that wretched realm, that the beast found me. I reasoned and pleaded with it and attempted to command it, but I was too far from my mortal anchor - too weak to face it there. The stink of sulfur burned my throat and its smoldering coat scorched my lungs. Hacking what words I could at the Hound made no difference as it lunged toward me.

I awoke the next morning, sprawled out across my scattered summoning well, to the sound of cloth flapping in a summer breeze that carried hints of burnt wood. As I rose to my feet, shards of memory fell into place. When the Hound’s weight pressed against me I was expelled from the portal, and the intrusive breeze on my cheek was proof enough that it had followed! I quickly pulled a tapestry aside and resignedly found that no door, or even wall, was left behind it. Confirmation of my dreadful mistake lay before me - what had once been the wooden shell of my summoning chamber was now reduced to ash by its escape. Not a plank remained, though the enchanted curtains hung still, swaying in the choking heat.