Unlock Better Stories

In my latest video, I dive deep into one of the most passionate debates across our tabletop community: should we strictly follow rules-as-written, or are house rules necessary to bring actual history to life on the table? If you have ever felt that an official rulebook flattened the unique tactics of a conflict just to keep things symmetrical for a commercial tournament, you are certainly not alone. I invite you to watch the video for my full thoughts, but I wanted to break down the core ideas right here for everyone looking to elevate their tabletop experience.

When game designers publish a set of miniatures rules, they have to write for a broad market, creating standardized mechanics that function across uniform table sizes and balanced tournament scenarios. But our local wargaming clubs are not sterile playtest environments. We bring specific terrain collections, tailored army list preferences, and shared narrative goals to every game night. When we tweak a rulebook, we are not disrespecting the author or fixing a broken game; we are continuing a long-standing hobby tradition of adapting commercial tools to fit our unique tabletop vision. Modifying a rulebook helps turn a generic engine into a living system that reflects the exact historical flavor our group wants to explore.

In my experience, hobbyists generally take two paths when crafting custom mechanics. On one side, gamers use house rules to inject authentic period flavor, like customizing command structures or modeling weapon quirks that commercial rules flatten for balance. On the other side, many of us use house rules for minimalist abstraction, stripping away endless modifier tables and clunky chart-checking to keep the game moving fast. Adding an umpire or game master to the mix further unlocks asymmetric play and dynamic fog of war that rigid manuals simply cannot handle. Whether you want more tactical grit or faster gameplay, house rules give you the power to tailor the friction at your table.

The key to successful homebrewing is making surgical modifications rather than sweeping overhauls, testing small adjustments in low-stakes games so you do not accidentally destabilize the core math. Beyond the mechanics, collaborating on house rules creates a shared culture within your club, turning off-the-shelf manuals into custom heirlooms passed down to new players. Check out the full video for the complete discussion and step-by-step breakdown, and let me know in the comments how your club handles modifying official rules!

Imperfect by Design

Have you ever set up a breathtaking historical tabletop layout, only to notice that your meticulously painted 28mm infantry regiments look like they are standing nose-to-nose before they are even considered within musket range? I tackle this exact visual paradox in my latest video, The Secret Trick Behind Beautiful Wargames, where I take a deep dive into the ground scale illusion and explain why this bizarre mathematical mismatch is actually the cornerstone of great tabletop wargaming.

When we step back and analyze a typical historical battlefield, we are essentially watching two completely different physical scales clash in the exact same space. On one hand, we have our figure scale which sets the height, width, and physical presence of our individual soldiers. On the other hand, we have our ground scale, which dictates how many real-world yards or meters a single physical inch on our gaming table represents. If rule writers were to enforce a strict one-to-one match between figure height and ground distance, a single standard musket range for a 28mm battalion would require us to rent out a local sports hall or gymnasium just to play a modest engagement. To keep our games functional on standard dining room tables, game designers are forced to compress ground scale dramatically.

This intentional spatial compression ripples across every single mechanic in our hobby, from movement distances to command radii. It also creates a fascinating aesthetic dilemma for hobbyists who spend endless hours painting subtle uniform details, picking out brass buttons, and custom-flocking bases. We create museum-quality miniatures only to place them next to a resin building that technically occupies the ground footprint of an entire village, or behind a stone wall that scales up to a massive eighty-yard-wide concrete barrier in game terms. It is a visual paradox that every historical hobbyist notices the moment they stretch a tape measure across the table.

Yet, far from being a flaw, I truly believe this spatial distortion is the secret artistic lens that makes our games so captivating. Tabletop wargaming was never meant to be a clinical laboratory simulation; it is a visual storytelling medium designed to capture tactical friction, psychological tension, and dramatic command choices. By stripping away miles of empty, dead space where nothing happens, ground scale compression zooms in on the decisive firefights, cavalry charges, and desperate last stands that make our hobby so visually dynamic. It turns a physical compromise into an immersive canvas where our minds naturally bridge the gap. Be sure to check out the full video for a deeper dive into this phenomenon, and let me know in the comments how you balance scale on your own gaming tables!

The Other Partizan (Oct 2026) : Pictures

It is the morning after The Other Partizan, and like many older attendees today, I am nursing a pair of very sore knees, but I can safely say it was totally worth every single ache. Autumn has arrived with its familiar crisp air, and converging on the George Stephenson Exhibition Hall at the Newark Showground for October's grand tabletop celebration felt like stepping into the perfect capstone for the historical wargaming year. The venue was packed and remained busy all day which is a sign that visitors were enjoying themselv es and didn’t want to go home. The incredible display tables took center stage of course, surrounded by traders on the perimeter, creating an atmosphere that felt less like a chaotic trade floor and far more like a living, breathable gallery of historical craftsmanship.

Walking down the aisles, the sheer variety and visual spectacle of the games was nothing short of staggering, spanning everything from shield-walls of the ancient world to sprawling modern tactical skirmishes. I was particularly struck by how smaller scales like 6mm, 10mm, and 12mm are capturing true operational depth alongside the cinematic 28mm grand displays, allowing us to see entire divisions maneuvering across wide flanks. Of course, no visit would be complete without visiting the trade stands where my financial discipline promptly collapsed. So much for reducing my Lead Mountain! 

Beyond all the incredible miniature displays and terrain, the absolute best part of the day was the social side. I had a fantastic say, spoke to hundreds of people, and really enjoyed meeting people who follow the channel who came up to say hello. My carefully planned timetable for systematically recording the event completely fell apart within minutes because I was having so much fun chatting about ongoing projects, terrible dice rolls, and the hobby in general. That sort of face-to-face support really keeps me focused on making more content and makes all those lonely hours spent editing feel deeply rewarding. As I said to most people I met yesterday, if you have a topic you'd like me to consider for discussion, drop it in the comments as a question and I'll find it.

I’m not rushing to put a video together, although I shot plenty of material. My aim is to have something ready for Wednesday evening after I have had a chance to clatalogue my pictures and gather my thoughts. In the meantime here are a very small selection of pictures from the day, just to whet your appetite if you were not able to attend in person.

The Pitchfork King: Inside the Museum of Somerset

My recent journey through Somerset took me deep into the heart of the Monmouth Rebellion of 1685, beginning at the historic Museum of Somerset housed within the magnificent walls of Taunton Castle. While the museum’s Rebellion Gallery is filled with fascinating period weapons and documents, one modest artifact immediately captured my attention: a delicate silver shoe buckle attributed to James Scott, Duke of Monmouth. Modern museum documentation reveals its origin is surprisingly shaky—it was purchased in 1911 without contemporary 17th-century receipts to verify its provenance, relying instead on a local legend that the fleeing Duke gave it to a child after his defeat. Despite its uncertain history, this humble relic serves as a poignant, tangible bridge connecting the museum directly to the tragedy of the Battle of Sedgemoor.

To truly grasp the story behind that humble buckle, I expanded my trip across the region to visit other key sites tied to the conflict. At the nearby Blake Museum in Bridgwater, I was blown away by an amazing diorama of the battle alongside an incredible array of local military artifacts. Further along the trail, I visited the Sedgemoor Visitor Centre, nestled inside the historic St. Mary’s Church at Westonzoyland. Walking into that church offers a chillingly direct link to the events of 1685, as it was used as a makeshift prison to hold five hundred exhausted, captured rebels in the immediate, bloody aftermath of the defeat.

To cap off the pilgrimage, I spent time walking the battlefield itself and visiting several other key locations linked to the fateful night attack. Tracing the footsteps of Monmouth’s raw, pitchfork-wielding militia as they marched through the fog-choked marshlands of the Somerset Levels brings a stark, human reality to the history. Whether standing beside an unverified buckle in a display case or walking the silent fields where thousands fought, exploring these interconnected Somerset sites offered an unforgettable window into one of Britain’s most dramatic conflicts.