Partizan 2026 Blew Me Away

The Partizan Wargames Show 2026 once again demonstrated exactly why it remains one of the most respected events in the UK historical tabletop wargaming calendar. Held at Newark Showground, Partizan has long built its reputation around beautifully presented demo games, stunning miniature painting, and an atmosphere that many hobbyists describe as a more relaxed and “civilised” alternative to the larger convention-style events. This year’s show absolutely lived up to that reputation.

In this latest video, I take a detailed look around the demo tables and share some of the games that particularly stood out to me during the day. One of the biggest talking points was the growing presence of smaller scales, showing just how cinematic smaller miniatures can look on the tabletop. At the same time, the classic spectacle of large-scale 28mm gaming was still alive and thriving, with massive Seven Years War, Vietnam, Napoleonic, and American Civil War tables drawing huge crowds throughout the event.

Among my personal highlights were the extraordinary Seven Years War game by Friends of a Military Gentleman, featuring around 2,000 beautifully painted 30mm figures, the atmospheric Cape Finisterre naval battle by Like a Stonewall, complete with fog banks and drifting smoke, and Harrogate Wargames Club’s astonishingly detailed Vietnam game Walk This Hue 1968. There were also fantastic participation games, Sharp Practice skirmishes, trench warfare displays, feudal Japanese battles, and plenty of wonderfully eccentric hobby details hidden across the tables.

My show video attempts to summarise my reflections on the social side of the hobby, which for me remains one of the most important aspects of shows like Partizan. Throughout the day, I spent a lot of time talking with viewers, fellow gamers, traders, and well-known personalities from the hobby, including Henry Hyde, Simon Miller, Barry Hilton, Rich Clarke, and John Kershaw. Some of the most meaningful conversations centred not just around rules and miniatures, but around creativity, mental health, friendship, and the positive role that tabletop gaming communities can play in people’s lives.

Partizan 2026 felt like a hobby in excellent health: visually ambitious, creative, welcoming, and constantly evolving. Whether you’re interested in historical wargaming, miniature painting, terrain building, or simply seeing what’s possible on the tabletop, there was no shortage of inspiration on display this year.

The “Historical Accuracy” Trap: Do You Want a Simulation or a Game?

One of the longest-running debates in historical tabletop wargaming is the question of realism. How historically accurate should a wargame actually be? At what point does realism improve immersion, and when does it start to make the experience slower, clunkier, and less enjoyable?

Historical wargamers are passionate about authenticity, and rightly so. Many of us are drawn to the hobby because we love military history, historical tactics and recreating famous battles on the tabletop. But there’s an important problem sitting underneath all of this: no tabletop game can ever be a perfect simulation of real warfare. The moment history becomes a game, compromises have to be made. Real warfare is chaotic, confusing and often deeply unfair. Troops spend long periods inactive, communication fails constantly, and battles are rarely balanced. If a ruleset recreated absolute realism perfectly, would it actually still be enjoyable to play? Or would it simply become frustrating?

In this video, I explore the uneasy balance between historical accuracy and playability. |I discuss why some gamers love deeply detailed simulations filled with charts, modifiers and granular mechanics, while others prefer smoother, faster systems that focus on atmosphere and decision-making instead of bookkeeping. I also discuss the “illusion of accuracy” that sometimes appears in historical rules design. More complicated mechanics do not automatically create a more authentic experience. Every ruleset contains abstractions. Morale, fatigue, terrain, command and communication all have to be simplified to some degree if a game is going to function in a reasonable timeframe.

So what actually creates a believable historical feel? For me, it often comes down to encouraging historical behaviour rather than simulating every tiny detail literally. Good rules encourage players to make believable tactical decisions while still allowing the game to flow naturally. Smart abstractions like morale systems, command friction, and scenario design can often create a stronger sense of history than endless calculations and overly complicated mechanics.

Ultimately, there probably isn’t a single “correct” answer. Some players love hardcore simulations. Others want a relaxed evening with friends and beautifully painted miniatures. The beauty of our hobby is that it is broad enough to support all of these approaches. So where do you stand? Do you prefer realism or smooth gameplay? Can a simple game sometimes feel more historical than a detailed simulation? And have you ever stopped playing a ruleset because it became too complicated?

Boots On The Ground: What Maps can never tell you

For me, there is something uniquely fascinating about standing on the ground where history happened. As tabletop wargamers, many of us spend years reading campaign histories, studying maps, painting armies and recreating battles on the tabletop, but how often do we stop and think about what those battlefields actually looked and felt like in real life?

In this latest video, I revisit the Bosworth Battlefield while on a short trip to Leicester with my wife, and the experience led me to an interesting realisation about battlefield visits, historical interpretation and understanding terrain. I first walked Bosworth several years ago during a freezing February trip, and returning in springtime completely changed how I saw the landscape. Features I thought I could identify before (low-lying marshy areas and subtle rises in the terrain) had seemingly vanished beneath tall crops and dense vegetation. The battlefield itself had not changed, but my ability to read the land certainly had.

That discovery sparked a wider discussion about why historical wargamers visit battlefield sites in the first place. Are we trying to understand the topography and tactical challenges faced by commanders? Are we searching for atmosphere and emotional connection? Or are we simply trying to immerse ourselves more deeply in the history that inspires our games and collections? This week's video explores the long tradition of battlefield tourism, dating back to Frederick the Great encouraging officers to walk historic battlefields as part of their military education. Even today, standing on the real ground can offer insights that no book, map or scenario supplement can fully provide. Distances feel different, hills look steeper, lines of sight become clearer, and terrain features that seem insignificant on paper suddenly make perfect tactical sense.

At the same time, battlefield visits come with problems and limitations. Landscapes evolve over centuries due to farming, urbanisation, river changes and climate. Archaeological discoveries can shift accepted interpretations of where battles actually took place. Emotional attachment to a location can also cloud objective analysis, making it harder to critically evaluate popular narratives or accepted history. From a wargaming perspective, though, these visits remain incredibly valuable. Seeing real buildings, roads, fields and terrain layouts can inspire more authentic tabletop battlefields and scenarios. The video also touches on how modern games and terrain makers increasingly recreate historical locations based on surviving structures and photographs, helping bring battlefields to life on the tabletop.

Ultimately, this is a friendly hobby discussion about history, battlefield walks, terrain interpretation, and how we, as wargamers, connect with the past. If you enjoy historical tabletop gaming, miniature painting, military history or simply thoughtful discussions about the hobby, I hope you’ll enjoy the conversation. And as always, I’d love to hear about your own battlefield visits and favourite historical sites in the comments.

The Retreat is Coming!

Every now and then, a tabletop wargaming project comes along that feels genuinely different.

Over the last few months, I’ve had the chance to be directly involved in playtesting Battle Chronicle: The Retreat from Moscow, a new historical miniature wargaming project developed by Paul from the Pazoot channel. Having now spent a significant amount of time with it (alongside my regular gaming partner Ray) I wanted to share why this is a project I’m genuinely excited to support.

This wasn’t one of those situations where I was handed a finished ruleset and asked for a quick opinion. I’ve been involved since the early stages, when the system was still very much rough around the edges. Some of the earliest versions were, to put it politely, enthusiastic experiments held together by optimism and dice rolls. And that’s exactly why I believe in it.

Over the course of months, we repeatedly tested all four linked scenarios, deliberately pushing the rules to their limits. We found balance issues. We discovered mechanics that slowed the game down. We encountered those inevitable “well, that definitely doesn’t work” moments that every game designer secretly dreads. But what impressed me most was the process that followed.

Each round of feedback was taken seriously. Rules were revised, mechanics tightened, unclear interactions clarified, and the entire experience steadily refined through multiple iterations. This wasn’t about forcing a product out quickly, it was about making sure the final result genuinely worked on the tabletop.

What makes Battle Chronicle stand out is its focus.

Rather than being another generic historical ruleset trying to cover every conceivable period and battle, this is a tightly designed narrative experience. Each Chronicle is a self-contained cooperative skirmish mini-campaign built around a specific historical setting.

The first instalment throws players into Napoleon’s retreat from Moscow, placing them in command of desperate survivors struggling against exhaustion, attrition, freezing weather and an automated enemy system designed to create constant tension.

It feels less like playing a standard tabletop battle and more like trying to survive a collapsing historical disaster. For me personally, it’s also done something every good project should do: it got miniatures onto the table.

Ray and I have had Retreat from Moscow figures waiting for their moment for some time, and Battle Chronicle finally gave us the perfect excuse to build games around them, and actually get stuck in.

In my latest video, I talk through the full journey, from those very rough early playtests through to why I now feel confident recommending it.

If you’re interested in historical tabletop wargaming, narrative campaigns, cooperative miniatures gaming, Napoleonic history, or the design process behind new rulesets, I think you’ll find this one interesting.

And if Battle Chronicle sounds like your kind of project, keep an eye out... The Retreat from Moscow is with the printers now, with release expected soon.

***LAUNCH UPDATE***   The rules should be available from the 1st June here and if you use the code BIGLEE10 at checkout you can get 10% off the cover price 

Old School Gaming Done Right

In this latest video, I take a closer look at We Want the Gold, a narrative-driven fantasy skirmish wargame by Robert Poynton. Now, as someone who primarily focuses on historical wargaming, stepping into a fantasy system isn’t something I do often—but this one stood out for a couple of reasons. Not only does it come from a designer with a strong grounding in old-school gaming, but it also draws heavily on the shared DNA between early roleplaying games and tabletop wargaming.

What makes We Want the Gold particularly interesting is its clear design philosophy. This isn’t a game about tight balance, competitive optimisation, or exhaustive simulation. Instead, it leans into storytelling, player agency, and cinematic moments. Small warbands clash over objectives—usually involving treasure—while navigating shifting alliances, opportunistic betrayals, and the unpredictable flow of the game.

Mechanically, the system is deliberately lightweight. Using simple D6-based resolution and a randomised activation system driven by chit draws, the game introduces just enough friction to keep players engaged without slowing things down. The result is a fast-paced experience where decisions matter, but the rules rarely get in the way.

One of the standout features of the rulebook is how quickly it gets you into the right mindset. Within a few pages, players have a clear understanding of the game’s intent and tone. The inclusion of the designer’s notes helps reinforce this, encouraging players to treat the system as flexible and adaptable rather than rigid and prescriptive.

Of course, that flexibility comes with trade-offs. The rules are written in a more informal style, which means they rely on interpretation and common sense rather than strict precision. For some groups, that’s a strength—it allows for creativity and fluid gameplay. For others, particularly those used to tightly written competitive systems, it may present a challenge.

Support for the game is relatively light, with limited official resources and a smaller community presence. However, this also reinforces the idea that We Want the Gold is less of a live service product and more of a self-contained toolkit—something you can pick up, adapt, and make your own.

Ultimately, this is a game that knows exactly what it wants to be. It offers a flexible, narrative-first approach to skirmish gaming that prioritises fun and memorable moments over mechanical complexity. If that aligns with what you’re looking for, it’s well worth exploring.

Solo Wargaming Isn't What You Think It Is

Solo wargaming has long carried an unfair reputation within the tabletop hobby, often seen as a second-best alternative to playing against a live opponent. But for a growing number of tabletop wargamers, historical gamers, and miniature painters, solo play has become not just a fallback, but a preferred way to engage with the hobby. In this video, I take a fresh look at solo wargaming and explore why it’s more popular, more accessible, and more rewarding than ever before.

Drawing on real experiences and community feedback, I examine the practical reasons why many players turn to solo gaming. From busy work schedules and family commitments to geographic isolation or the simple challenge of coordinating games, solo play allows hobbyists to stay active and engaged when traditional gaming isn’t possible. But beyond convenience, there are genuine advantages. Solo games offer the freedom to experiment, learn rules in depth, and develop tactical thinking without pressure. They also create opportunities for immersive storytelling and scenario-driven gameplay that can be harder to achieve in competitive settings.

A key part of making solo wargaming successful is the ability to “automate” the opposing force. This video explores a range of methods, from classic rule-based systems like the well-known “Mr Babbage” approach, to the enduring influence of programmed wargame scenarios pioneered by Charles Grant. These systems introduce structure, unpredictability, and narrative tension, transforming solo play into a dynamic and engaging experience.

I also discuss modern innovations, including how newer rulesets are integrating built-in automation mechanics, and how we’ve approached this challenge in Battle Chronicle: The Retreat from Moscow. By combining structured decision-making systems with flexible gameplay, it’s possible to create an opponent that feels responsive without becoming overly complex.

Finally, the video looks at the growing role of AI in solo wargaming. While still a topic of debate within the community, AI tools offer intriguing possibilities for generating decisions, adding narrative flavour, and enhancing immersion. At the same time, they raise important questions about consistency, control, and the role of technology in a traditionally hands-on hobby. By examining both the opportunities and the concerns, this discussion aims to provide a balanced perspective on where solo wargaming might be heading next.

Whether you’re completely new to solo play or already experimenting with your own systems, this video offers practical ideas, inspiration, and a fresh perspective on one of the most flexible and creative aspects of the wargaming hobby.

Review of Ad Glorium-Et Ultra: Wargame Rules for 20th Century Conflicts

If you’ve ever felt that modern tabletop wargaming rules can be overly complex, Ad Glorium – Et Ultra! might be exactly what you’re looking for. In my latest video, I take a detailed look at this compact and affordable ruleset, designed to cover 20th-century warfare from the trenches of the First World War through to speculative World War Three scenarios.

What makes this system stand out is its clear design philosophy: keep things fast, fun, and simple, while still capturing the feel of combined-arms warfare. Rather than getting bogged down in excessive detail, the rules focus on playability—something that will immediately appeal to hobbyists who prefer getting models on the table rather than buried in charts and calculations.

In the video, I break the rules down into several key areas. First, I look at the structure of the rulebook itself—how easy it is to navigate, how clearly the information is presented, and whether it supports players during gameplay. I then move on to the mechanics, examining the core D6 system, the role of morale, and the Command, Control & Communications system, which adds an interesting layer of tactical decision-making through limited-use “extra turn” opportunities.

Another important aspect I explore is the balance between clarity and complexity. Modern warfare can be a daunting period to game, with a huge range of equipment and organisational structures. However, Ad Glorium – Et Ultra! takes a deliberately simplified approach, grouping similar units together and focusing on battlefield effect rather than technical specifications. This makes it far more accessible, particularly for players who may be new to the period.

I also discuss the wider ecosystem surrounding the rules. While this is very much an “artisan” project rather than a big commercial release, there are still useful supporting materials available, including free scenario books and reference sheets. Combined with its low price point, this makes it a very approachable entry into modern wargaming.

Ultimately, this isn’t a ruleset trying to simulate every possible detail—it’s a flexible framework designed to let you explore the period in your own way. Whether you’re a veteran historical wargamer or someone curious about branching into 20th-century conflicts, this review should give you a clear idea of what to expect and whether Ad Glorium – Et Ultra! deserves a place on your table.

The Battle of Fort Dan (French Indian War)

The Posties Rejects gathered in the Shed-o-War for only our second face-to-face game of the year. Illness has played havoc with everyone’s schedules, but (touch wood) we may finally be turning a corner. If Sunday’s game is anything to go by, it was well worth the wait.

Richard summed it up perfectly on his blog: “This was a very convivial occasion with lots of chat, mickey-taking and laughter amongst friends. Well done to Postie for his superbly rendered table. He always manages to produce a visual feast.” Hard to argue with that.

The game itself was a fictional encounter set somewhere in North America during the French and Indian War (1754–63). For those less familiar, this conflict saw Great Britain and France clash, alongside their respective Indigenous allies, and is generally considered part of the wider Seven Years’ War. Stuart (Postie), never one to think small, laid on a table worthy of the setting: a sprawling 6' by 12' battlefield packed with dense forest, a settler village, and a British log fort guarding a river crossing. And yes, there were trees. A lot of trees. Possibly enough to qualify as managed woodland.

Dan, Surjit, and I took command of the British forces, supported by Provincials and allied Indigenous troops. Opposing us were Richard, Ray, and Colin, leading the French and their own Indigenous allies. The scenario opened with a sizeable French force advancing along the main road, while additional elements—represented by blinds—moved unseen through the forests on either side. Our Provincials formed a thin but determined line across the road, buying time for a chaotic column of settlers, wagons, and livestock to make their escape towards the dubious safety of the fort.

We also had a unit of Rangers and another of Indigenous allies to deploy as blinds in the woods. In a moment of optimism (or tactical overconfidence), we placed both on our left flank. This would later prove… educational.

Along the road, the Provincials conducted a steady fighting withdrawal, delivering volleys before falling back, always keeping just ahead of the French advance. It soon became clear that not all the French blinds were empty. Colin’s troops appeared on the French left, while two units of Indigenous warriors emerged on their right—uncomfortably close to my concealed forces. When the blinds were lifted, it became apparent that I was slightly outnumbered.

At that point, discretion suggested retreat. Unfortunately, speed favoured the enemy, and withdrawal likely meant being run down anyway. So, in the finest tradition of questionable battlefield decisions, I chose aggression instead. Fortune favoured this moment—we had the initiative (a recurring theme throughout the game)—so I pushed forward and opened fire, hoping to thin their numbers before the inevitable melee.

Meanwhile, the main action on the road continued much as before: the Provincials trading space for time, picking off French troops while staying just beyond charge range. A cow did make a break for it into the woods—clearly unimpressed with the chain of command—but most of the civilians kept moving. Dan advanced two units of British regulars along either flank, and by turn five or six, they were nearing the fight, poised to significantly increase our firepower.

Back in the woods, things became… less orderly. My Rangers and Indigenous allies collided with Richard’s warriors in a brutal, swirling melee. Over three turns, both sides tore each other apart in close combat until, eventually, there was almost nothing left. The few survivors staggered away, leaving the forest eerily quiet once more.

The French still had one more move to make. Reinforcements arrived by canoe along the river. Four boats carrying indians equipped with ladders, clearly eyeing the fort as their objective. Unfortunately for them, they may have left it a little late (perhaps the upriver rapids proved more troublesome than expected). The British garrison, ever cautious, had kept a strong force inside the fort, ready to receive them.

At this point, the French commanders made the sensible call. Their advance along the road was closing in, but fresh British troops were arriving on both flanks, threatening to more than double the firepower facing them. With mounting casualties and objectives slipping out of reach, discretion won out over valour. The game was called, and we retired indoors for the far more pressing objective of tea.

Credit to the French players, they were hampered by some truly dreadful initiative rolls, winning it only once or twice all game. That allowed the British to dictate the tempo, maintaining the fighting withdrawal while steadily wearing them down. Dice can be cruel, and on this occasion, they were firmly wearing red coats.

Once again, Stuart delivered a beautifully presented game, rich in atmosphere, full of visual detail, and a joy to play on. And, as Richard noted, the day was as much about the company as the combat: plenty of laughter, terrible puns, and the usual good-natured mickey-taking. As is tradition, the battle ended not with recriminations but with handshakes, congratulations, and plans for the next encounter. Now, if we can just keep everyone healthy long enough to actually play it…

The Truth about Wargaming Scales

For many tabletop wargamers, 28mm has become the default scale, so familiar that it’s rarely questioned. But how did we get here, and what might we be missing by sticking to it? In today’s video, I take a deep dive into the evolution of miniature scales in wargaming, starting with my own early experiences painting true 25mm fantasy figures from classic ranges like Ral Partha and early Citadel. These slimmer, more delicately proportioned miniatures represent a very different era of the hobby. One where scale was less about spectacle and more about practicality, and where the focus was firmly on getting armies onto the table rather than individual figures stealing the spotlight.

From there, we trace the gradual shift toward 28mm and the rise of “heroic scale,” where exaggerated proportions made figures more visually striking and easier to paint. While this change helped define modern wargaming and undeniably made the hobby more visually appealing, it also subtly reshaped how games are played, often favouring smaller, more narrative-driven encounters over large-scale battles. In many ways, the scale itself began to influence the kinds of stories we tell on the tabletop.

But scale isn’t just about size, it’s about experience. Drawing on my time playing Epic-scale games in true 6mm (roughly 1/285–1/300), along with dozens of later historical 6mm games, I explore why smaller scales remain my personal favourite for mass battle gaming. At that level, the focus shifts away from individual figures and onto formations, manoeuvres, and battlefield tactics, offering a very different, and arguably more “historical”, feel. Instead of a skirmish, you get something that genuinely resembles a battle, with space to think, plan, and react at a higher level.

I also touch on more recent experiences with 10mm miniatures, particularly from Pendraken, which sit in an appealing middle ground between detail and spectacle. They offer enough visual character to satisfy the painter, while still allowing for battles that feel expansive and dynamic. And while I make a strong case for smaller scales in gameplay terms, I’m equally clear about the strengths of 28mm, especially when it comes to painting, where larger figures offer more room for creativity, experimentation, and expression. There’s a reason so many of us keep coming back to it, even if we occasionally wander off into smaller scales.

One of the key topics covered is the often confusing difference between wargaming scales and traditional model scales. While model makers use precise ratios like 1/72 or 1/285, wargamers tend to rely on approximate figure heights, and even then, we can’t quite agree whether that’s measured to the eye line or the top of the head. The result is a system that’s flexible, but not always consistent, and it’s something that has caused confusion for generations of hobbyists trying to mix ranges or understand what they’re actually buying.

In fact, it’s exactly that confusion that led me to create a dedicated scale guide on my blog many years ago, which has remained one of the most consistently visited pages ever since. If you’re curious, you can find it here. It compares wargaming scales alongside model-making and model railway standards, and judging by how often people still land on that page, it’s clear this is a topic that continues to puzzle hobbyists across all corners of the miniature world.

Ultimately, this isn’t about declaring a “best” scale. It’s about recognising that each scale offers a different way to experience the hobby. Whether you prefer the detail and character of 28mm, the sweeping scope of 6mm, or something in between, scale is less a hierarchy and more a toolbox, one that gives you the freedom to shape your games, your projects, and your enjoyment of the hobby in whatever way suits you best.

What do toy soldiers and tabletop wargaming really have in common?

In my latest video, I take a trip to the House on the Hill Toy Museum, home to one of the largest private toy collections in the world—and, crucially for us, an extraordinary display of toy soldiers spanning decades of history. From traditional lead figures to mass-produced plastics, the collection offers a fascinating glimpse into how generations before us experienced what we now call wargaming. For many tabletop wargamers, the journey into the hobby didn’t begin with rulebooks or organised games. It started with imagination. A handful of figures. A battlefield improvised from whatever was available. Romans fighting cowboys. WWII infantry clashing with medieval knights. It wasn’t historically accurate—but it was creative, immersive, and endlessly fun.

Walking through the museum, that sense of creativity is everywhere. The displays aren’t just about accuracy or completeness—they’re about storytelling. And that’s a powerful reminder that, even in today’s hobby with its focus on realism and detail, the core experience hasn’t really changed. We’re still telling stories. We’re still creating moments. We’re still playing.

The museum itself is more than just toy soldiers. It’s an “Aladdin’s cave” of nostalgia, featuring everything from pop culture exhibits like Star Wars to classic British television icons such as Only Fools and Horses and Doctor Who. It’s unpredictable, packed with personality, and full of surprises around every corner.

But for wargamers, the real value lies in what it represents. This is where the hobby began—not in carefully balanced systems or competitive play, but in imagination and playfulness. It’s a reminder that you don’t need perfect miniatures or terrain to enjoy wargaming. All you need is the willingness to create a story and see where it leads.

If you’re passionate about tabletop wargaming, historical miniatures, or the history of the hobby itself, this is a place well worth exploring. 

Is Wargaming a form of Experimental History?

Can tabletop wargaming really help us understand history, or are we simply creating the illusion of insight with dice and miniatures? This video explores the idea of wargaming as a form of “living history” and asks whether the hobby offers something that books alone cannot provide.

For many historical wargamers, the appeal of the hobby goes far beyond painting miniatures or playing games. It is about stepping into the role of a commander, facing the same kinds of decisions, uncertainties, and pressures that shaped real historical events. Unlike reading, which presents history as a structured narrative, wargaming allows us to interact with it. It turns history into a problem to be solved rather than a story to be absorbed. Through gameplay, we encounter friction, imperfect information, and the unpredictability that defined real battles, offering a different perspective on events we may already know well.

At the same time, this video takes a step back and questions whether we sometimes overstate the value of that experience. Wargaming relies on rules, abstractions, and models that simplify reality. While these systems can help us explore historical ideas, they can also create a false sense of understanding. It is easy to feel like we have “solved” a historical problem after a successful game, but real battles were shaped by factors far beyond what can be represented on the tabletop, including human emotion, political context, and logistical complexity.

The discussion also explores the limitations of focusing on battles alone. While wargaming can deepen our understanding of tactical and operational decisions, history itself is much broader, shaped by culture, economics, and long-term societal change. This raises an important question about how much wargaming can truly teach us about the past as a whole.

Ultimately, the video argues that wargaming is at its most powerful when combined with reading, research, and discussion. Rather than replacing traditional study, it enhances it by encouraging us to ask new questions and engage more actively with historical material. It is not about finding definitive answers, but about exploring possibilities and developing a deeper appreciation for the complexity of the past.

SALUTE 53 Show Report

For many UK hobbyists, Salute 53 represents the pinnacle of the wargaming calendar—a one-day event that brings together every corner of the tabletop gaming world under one roof. Hosted by the South London Warlords at the iconic ExCeL London, Salute is more than just a convention. It’s a snapshot of the hobby as it exists today. In this show report, I take a reflective look at Salute through the lens of a long-time attendee and dedicated historical wargamer. Over the years, I’ve watched the show evolve. One of the most noticeable changes has been the gradual reduction in the number of historical games on display, something that many wargamers, myself included, have commented on in the past. But rather than framing that as criticism, this video explores the bigger picture.

Historical wargaming, while rich in depth and authenticity, is just one part of an increasingly diverse hobby. Sci-fi, fantasy, and narrative-driven games have surged in popularity, bringing new players and fresh creativity into the space. Salute has adapted to reflect that reality, embracing a broader audience while still retaining elements of its historical roots.

What makes Salute special is precisely that balance. It isn’t a purely historical show, nor is it a competitive tournament environment or a single-system convention. Instead, it occupies a unique niche, one that celebrates the full spectrum of tabletop wargaming. From meticulously researched historical battles to cinematic sci-fi encounters and immersive roleplay-inspired skirmishes, the variety on display is unmatched.

As someone who enjoys not only historical gaming but also roleplaying and science fiction, I find that this diversity is part of Salute’s enduring appeal. It challenges you to step outside your comfort zone, to engage with new ideas, and to rediscover your enthusiasm for the hobby in unexpected ways.

This video is both a celebration of Salute and a reflection on how the hobby continues to evolve. Whether you’re a historical purist, a narrative gamer, or simply someone who enjoys painting and collecting miniatures, there’s something here for you.

BigLee's guide to surviving Salute 53

 If you’re planning your first trip to Salute 53, or returning after a long break, this video is your essential primer for navigating one of the biggest tabletop wargaming events in the world. Hosted at ExCeL London, Salute has evolved dramatically over the years, growing into a sprawling, vibrant showcase of everything the hobby has to offer.

In this video, I explore how the show has changed for the better, with a broader mix of historical, fantasy, and sci-fi gaming on display. From immersive demo tables to interactive participation games, Salute is no longer just a shopping trip—it’s an experience. With over 90 demo games and a huge variety of traders, it’s a place where hobbyists can discover new systems, meet creators, and get hands-on with the latest releases and Kickstarter projects.

I also cover the practical side of attending the event. Travel to ExCeL London is easier than ever thanks to the DLR, but parking costs have risen, making planning ahead essential. Inside the venue, accessibility has improved significantly, with pre-bookable accessible parking, free mobility scooters, and plenty of seating areas to rest during a long day on your feet.

Food and drink options are plentiful, though undeniably expensive, so bringing a packed lunch is a popular strategy among seasoned attendees. Queueing, once a major concern, is now well managed with a dedicated indoor space, ensuring a smoother start to the day—even with thousands of visitors arriving before the doors open.

Beyond the games and shopping, Salute offers a rich programme of Hobby Heroes panels and a consistently outstanding painting competition, showcasing some of the best miniature painting talent in the hobby. These elements add depth to the event, making it more than just a convention—it’s a full celebration of tabletop wargaming culture.

Whether you’re a historical wargamer, miniatures painter, or simply curious about the hobby, this guide will help you make the most of your day at Salute 53 and avoid some of the common pitfalls first-time visitors face.

Who is really in command?

Command and control is one of the most important (and often misunderstood) elements of WWII tabletop wargaming. It’s the invisible force that determines whether your carefully planned attack unfolds like a textbook operation… or collapses into chaos the moment the dice hit the table. In my latest video, I take a deep dive into how four popular rule sets approach this critical aspect of gameplay: Flames of War 4th Edition, Bolt Action 3rd Edition, Chain of Command 2, and Rapid Fire Reloaded.

Each of these games tackles the same historical problem (how commanders influence the battlefield), but they do so in very different ways. Flames of War emphasises formation cohesion and the gradual breakdown of organised forces under pressure. Bolt Action leans into cinematic unpredictability with its order dice system, where momentum can shift in an instant. Chain of Command focuses on the human element, placing leaders at the centre of every decision and making their positioning critical to success. Meanwhile, Rapid Fire Reloaded zooms out to a larger scale, where command becomes a question of coordination, distance, and maintaining control across an entire battlefield.

What emerges from this comparison is not a “best” system, but a set of distinct perspectives on how WWII combat functioned. Each ruleset highlights a different layer of warfare—chaos, leadership, or organisation—and in doing so, shapes the entire feel of the game. The same miniatures and the same historical scenario can feel completely different depending on how command and control are handled.

For tabletop wargamers, this is where the hobby becomes especially rewarding. Exploring different rules isn’t just about mechanics; it’s about engaging with different interpretations of history. These systems invite us to consider how real commanders coped with confusion, limited communication, and the pressure to make decisions in the heat of battle.

The Battle of Oltenitsa - 4th Nov 1853 - A Crimean War Batrep

Yesterday’s game in the Shed-o-War with the rest of the Posties Rejects transported us back to a part of the Crimean War that rarely gets the spotlight. While most people jump straight to the mud, mismanagement, and media circus of the later Allied campaigns, the opening phase (before the British and French fully committed) was very much a brutal, grinding contest between the Russian Empire and the Ottoman Turks.

By 1853, tensions between the Russian Empire and the Ottoman Empire had been simmering for years. Russia, keen to expand its influence southward and present itself as the protector of Orthodox Christians within Ottoman territories, pressed its claims with increasing aggression. The Ottomans, meanwhile, were determined to resist.

When diplomacy failed, Russian forces crossed into the Danubian Principalities (modern-day Romania), prompting the Ottomans to declare war in October 1853. What followed was a series of sharp, often overlooked engagements along the Danube and in the Caucasus. These early clashes set the tone: determined Ottoman resistance, often underestimated, against a numerically and logistically powerful Russian army.

One of the defining moments of this opening phase came at the Battle of Oltenița, where Ottoman forces successfully checked a Russian advance. It was an early indication that this would not be the quick, one-sided campaign many had expected. The Turks fought hard, often from prepared positions, and proved more than capable of bloodying Russian noses when the ground favoured them.

Stuart set up a scenario based on these early encounters, pitching Russian attackers against a well-entrenched Turkish force in November 1853. On paper, it looked straightforward. In practice, it was anything but. The Turks held a commanding ridge line, broken by rocky outcrops and fortified with a chain of redoubts. Ten objectives in total, each hill and redoubt worth a single point, and, at the start of the game, all firmly in Ottoman hands. The Russian objective was clear: seize at least six to claim victory. Simple, right? Well… no.

Although the Russians enjoyed a comfortable two-to-one numerical advantage, the terrain told a very different story. Assaulting uphill into prepared positions is never a pleasant experience, and the redoubts turned what might have been a straightforward advance into a grinding series of assaults. Every objective captured would have to be paid for.

One of the real highlights of the evening was seeing the Ottoman collection back on the table. This early-war period has a distinct visual character that sets it apart from the later, more familiar Crimean battles. The Turkish uniforms in particular are an absolute joy: bold colours, striking contrasts, and just enough flourish to remind you that 19th-century warfare hadn’t entirely abandoned its sense of style.

It’s a period that deserves more attention, both for its aesthetics and for the fascinating tactical challenges it presents. The asymmetry of these engagements, numerical superiority versus defensive strength, makes for exactly the kind of tense, decision-driven games that stick in the memory. Games like this are a great reminder that history doesn’t begin with the most famous moments. The early phase of the Crimean War is full of compelling scenarios, dramatic clashes, and underappreciated armies that deserve a place on the tabletop.

And from a wargaming perspective, it offers something rather special: a chance to explore a conflict where the outcome isn’t dictated by reputation, but by how well you can manage ground, timing, and sheer bloody-minded persistence.

As for the Russians’ daunting task of prising six objectives from stubborn Turkish hands? After a marathon eight-hour struggle, they fell just short—ending the day with five points apiece and a hard-fought draw. The Ottoman force was effectively shattered, but much like their historical counterparts, they had done exactly what was required: blunt the advance, buy precious time, and withdraw in good order to a new defensive line, leaving the Russians to contemplate the cost of every inch gained.

Clear vs Scenic Bases

One of the fascinating things about the tabletop wargaming hobby is how the smallest details can spark surprisingly passionate discussions. In this latest video, I take a closer look at one of those deceptively simple questions: Should we be using clear bases or scenic bases for our miniatures? 

The topic was inspired by an email from Harry, also known as the Glasgow Warhog, who asked a straightforward question that many hobbyists have probably considered at some point: Should we move to clear bases? His argument was simple and practical. Clear bases allow miniatures to blend seamlessly into any battlefield terrain, whether that’s grassy countryside, desert landscapes, urban ruins, or the interior of a factory. From a gameplay perspective, the idea makes a lot of sense. But like many aspects of miniature wargaming, the answer isn’t quite that straightforward.

In the video, I reflect on how basing has evolved over the decades, starting with the very earliest miniatures I painted more than forty years ago, when bases were often little more than a quick coat of green paint. From there, hobby techniques evolved into textured bases, flock, static grass, and eventually more elaborate scenic basing. Along the way, I even experimented with the legendary “oregano basing technique,” where dried kitchen herbs doubled as convincing dead grass for early miniature armies.

As painting skills improved, basing became an increasingly creative part of the hobby. Today, many miniature painters treat the base as a tiny diorama, adding multiple scenic elements such as rocks, tufts, debris, and vegetation to create a more natural and immersive look. In the video, I talk about the “three-element basing rule” I often follow, which helps create visually interesting bases that feel like small slices of the battlefield.

Of course, scenic bases come with their own challenges. A beautifully grassed base might look perfect in a rural battlefield, but perhaps less convincing inside a ruined building or on a paved city street. That’s where the appeal of clear acrylic bases becomes obvious. They adapt instantly to whatever terrain lies beneath the miniature. Clear bases offer flexibility and realism during gameplay, while scenic bases add character, storytelling, and a finished aesthetic that many modellers find deeply satisfying.

Ultimately, this isn’t about deciding a “right” answer. Like so many aspects of the hobby, it comes down to personal preference and what you enjoy most, gaming practicality or modelling creativity.

Can one ruleset cover 2,000 years of warfare?

Historical tabletop wargamers are always on the lookout for rule systems that strike the right balance between accessibility, historical flavour, and tactical depth. In my latest video, I take a closer look at two rulebooks from the growing On Bloody Ground series by WIP Games and Miniatures: The Wars of the Roses and The Punic Wars. Written by father-and-son design team David and Daniel Toone, the On Bloody Ground system has steadily expanded over the past few years. What began as a small set of rules covering the Norman Conquest and the Reconquista has now grown into a range of more than a dozen books covering multiple historical periods—from the American Civil War to Caesar’s campaigns and the English Civil War.

At the heart of the system is a rules engine inspired by the classic Warhammer Ancient Battles style of ranked combat, but streamlined to avoid unnecessary complexity. Instead of introducing gimmicks or novelty mechanics, the designers focus on clear, traditional tabletop wargaming principles: movement, morale, formations, and decisive combat between units. The result is a system that feels familiar to experienced wargamers while remaining accessible for newcomers.

In the video, I explore how these mechanics translate into two very different historical periods. The Wars of the Roses brings late medieval English warfare to the tabletop, where blocks of billmen, men-at-arms, and longbowmen clash in brutal infantry engagements led by ambitious nobles. The Punic Wars, on the other hand, shift the action to the ancient Mediterranean, where Roman legions face the diverse armies of Carthage, complete with Iberian warriors, Numidian cavalry, and the ever-popular war elephants.

One interesting challenge for me when reviewing these rules was scale. The system assumes individually based figures (often in 28mm scale) grouped together on movement trays. My own collections for both periods are quite different: 6mm armies that are permanently multi-based. In the video, I explore whether the system can be adapted to work with smaller-scale miniatures and alternative basing styles without losing the intended gameplay experience.

The answer, happily, is yes. With a few simple adjustments, the rules proved flexible enough to accommodate different collections while still delivering engaging and decisive tabletop battles. That adaptability is one of the strengths of the On Bloody Ground system, making it suitable for a wide range of players and miniature scales.

The Rulebook Trap: Fluff vs Substance

One of the interesting quirks of the tabletop wargaming hobby is that our rulebooks often serve two very different purposes at the same time. On the one hand, they’re instruction manuals that explain the mechanics of the game. On the other hand, they’re often part history book, part lore compendium, and sometimes even part art book designed to inspire players. That combination raises an interesting question: how much fluff should a wargame rulebook really contain

Today, my video explores the balance between background material and rules mechanics in tabletop wargaming rulebooks. Some gamers love diving into rich lore and historical explanations, while others just want to find the rules quickly and get miniatures onto the table. That tension between storytelling and practicality can shape the entire reading experience of a rulebook.

The discussion becomes even more interesting when you compare fantasy and science fiction games with historical wargames. In fictional settings, everything about the universe has been created by the authors, from the factions and technology to the basic assumptions about how the world works. Lore isn’t just decorative in those games; it helps players understand the setting itself. Without background material explaining the world, the motivations of its factions, and the nature of its technology or magic, the rules can feel disconnected from the setting.

Historical wargames approach the problem from the opposite direction. The setting already exists in the real world, and players have access to countless books, documentaries, and historical studies if they want to explore the period in more detail. That means rulebooks don’t necessarily need to carry the same burden of explaining the world. A little context can provide flavour and help explain design choices, but too much history can start to feel like unnecessary page filler when players already have other resources available.

Of course, the balance isn’t always easy to strike. Too much background material can make a rulebook difficult to navigate during a game, while too little flavour can leave the system feeling dry and mechanical. Somewhere between those extremes lies the sweet spot where rules clarity and thematic immersion support each other perfectly.

Battle Chronicle Playtesting Chat

This evening’s video is a bit of a behind-the-scenes chat, as I sit down with Ray Rousell, fellow “Reject”, and the man behind Don’t Throw a One, to talk about the playtesting process for our upcoming skirmish campaign book, Battle Chronicle: Retreat from Moscow.

As many of you already know, this project has been a collaboration with Paul over on the Pazoot Channel. Together, we’ve been developing a set of skirmish rules designed to link games into a narrative-driven campaign, all of which will eventually be pulled together into a dedicated campaign booklet. There’s no official release date just yet, and that’s very much by design. We’d rather take the time to get it right than rush something out the door and regret it later (a radical concept, I know).

Ray and I have both been involved in the playtesting side of things, and in this short discussion, we reflect on how that process has gone so far. What’s worked, what hasn’t, and, perhaps most importantly, whether we’d willingly put ourselves through it all again. Spoiler: playtesting is equal parts inspiration, frustration, and the occasional “why did we think this was a good idea?” moment.

If you’d like to follow along with the project, you can join the Battle Chronicle mailing list for updates, release news, playtest materials, and development insights. No spam, just the good stuff: https://www.pazoot.com/battle-chronicle

Legacy or Landfill?

For most tabletop wargamers, a collection of miniatures is far more than a pile of painted figures or boxes of unbuilt kits. It represents years, sometimes decades, of enthusiasm for history, gaming, modelling, and creativity. Every army tells a story. Every painted regiment represents hours of careful work. Every terrain piece, rulebook, or campaign folder carries memories of games played with friends around the table. But there is a question that many hobbyists quietly avoid thinking about. What happens to those collections when we are no longer around to look after them?

This video was prompted by a message from a viewer who recently helped the family of a friend sort through a huge model kit collection after that friend passed away. The collection contained well over a thousand kits. What began as an act of helping out quickly turned into an enormous task of sorting, valuing, organising, and deciding what should happen to a lifetime’s worth of hobby items. It is a situation that many of us could easily leave behind without realising it.

For people deeply involved in the tabletop wargaming hobby, collections tend to grow steadily over time. Armies accumulate for different periods and rulesets. Boxes of miniatures build up in cupboards and lofts. Painting projects wait patiently for their turn on the workbench. What feels like a perfectly normal hobby collection to us can look overwhelming to someone who does not share our interests.

That raises a practical and emotional question. Is it fair to leave the job of sorting through everything to family members who might not understand the value, both sentimental and financial, of what they are dealing with?

In this video, I explore the idea of legacy collections and how wargamers might start thinking about the future of their armies and hobby materials. We talk about why it is important to communicate the meaning of the collection to family members, how organisation can make a huge difference when the time eventually comes, and whether downsizing is something worth considering as we get older.

There is also a wider reflection on the role of the hobby in our lives. Historical wargaming is a mentally stimulating and socially rewarding pastime that many of us intend to enjoy for as long as possible. Planning ahead for the future does not mean giving up the hobby. It simply means recognising that the collections we build are part of a larger story.

Ultimately, this discussion is not about being morbid. It is about respect for the time, passion, and creativity that goes into building a miniature wargaming collection, and about making sure that the legacy of those collections is handled in a way that honours the hobby and the people who loved it.

Are you Laughing Enough?

One of the fascinating things about tabletop gaming is that while we spend plenty of time discussing rules, tactics, painting, and history, we rarely talk about something that appears at almost every gaming table: humour. Whether you play roleplaying games like Dungeons & Dragons or historical miniature wargames, laughter seems to creep into the hobby in ways that are difficult to plan but impossible to ignore. In this video, I explore a simple but surprisingly interesting question: how important is humour in your games?

For many gaming groups, laughter is almost constant. In roleplaying games, it often arrives in the form of dramatic speeches gone slightly wrong, characters attempting absurd plans, or someone inevitably quoting a line from a film at exactly the right moment. Even the most serious dungeon crawl can suddenly derail into comedy when a spell misfires or a stealth attempt ends with a spectacular crash through a pile of armour.

But humour isn’t limited to roleplaying games. Anyone who has played miniature wargames for long enough knows that the dice have a sense of humour all of their own. The elite troops that refuse to move, the carefully planned ambush that collapses instantly, or the heroic cavalry charge that stops halfway because the command roll failed. Those moments might be frustrating in the moment, but they often become the stories that gaming groups remember and retell for years.

In the video I talk about how humour changes the atmosphere around the table. Laughter lowers the pressure, keeps games social and relaxed, and reminds us that the hobby is ultimately about spending time with friends. Even in competitive games, the shared experience of unpredictable dice and dramatic outcomes can turn potential frustration into memorable comedy.

There’s also an interesting balance to consider. Some groups thrive on constant jokes and banter, while others prefer a more serious and immersive style of play. Neither approach is wrong. Every gaming table develops its own personality over time, and humour often becomes part of the culture of that group. Running jokes, famous disasters, and legendary quotes become part of the shared mythology of the campaign or gaming club.

Perhaps the real magic of humour in tabletop gaming is that it transforms unexpected outcomes into great stories. The most memorable moments rarely come from perfect victories or flawless tactics. They come from the unpredictable chaos that happens when players, dice, and imagination collide.

That’s exactly what this video is about: the laughter, the ridiculous moments, and the strange way humour turns ordinary gaming sessions into stories that stick with us long after the miniatures have been packed away.

Why my YouTube Channel is a no politics zone

Why is my YouTube channel a “no politics zone”? And what does that choice have to do with the mental and physical health benefits of tabletop wargaming? In my latest video, I discuss a subject I’ve deliberately avoided since launching the channel in earnest back in 2020: modern politics in hobby spaces. While historical wargaming inevitably touches on political themes of the past, I’ve made a conscious decision to keep contemporary political debate off the channel. This video explains why.

At its heart, this is a discussion about protecting the hobby as a refuge. Many tabletop wargamers and miniature painters recognise the mental health benefits of sitting down at the painting desk or gaming table. The real world quiets. Stress levels drop. Focus sharpens. Creative energy replaces anxiety. But we don’t always stop to examine just how powerful that effect can be. In this video, I share a personal discovery that brought this into sharp focus: measurable drops in blood pressure during painting and hobby sessions. For someone managing hypertension, seeing those numbers move from elevated levels into the normal range during time spent painting miniatures was eye-opening. It reinforces something many of us intuitively know: this hobby is not just entertainment; it actively supports wellbeing.

I also discuss well-respected research into arts and craft hobbies, which found that miniature painting and similar creative activities can improve fine motor skills, enhance concentration, support problem-solving ability, reduce stress, and boost mood. There is even emerging evidence suggesting cognitively engaging hobbies may help build long-term mental resilience.

This is not about ignoring history or avoiding thoughtful discussion. I consider myself to be a very political person. I try to be well-informed, I follow the news and read articles by independent experts (not some shouty bloke on Facebook), I vote, and I care about the future. But that doesn't mean I feel I need to drag politics into every forum and space I inhabit. My Channel, this blog and my hobby room are a sanctuary from the never ending and exhausting ideological trench warfare of modern politics.

And the irony is that historical wargaming often encourages deep research into political contexts of the past. This can strengthen critical thinking skills. We learn to question sources without becoming conspiracy theorists. We discover that narratives are contested and appreciate a range of opinions. We see how propaganda works and how to look past it. That kind of historical literacy is very healthy, in my humble opinion. 

So, keeping politics out of the comments here and on my channel isn't about silencing debate. Rather, it’s about recognising the value of boundaries and protecting spaces that allow the hobby’s mental and physical health benefits to flourish.

Battle Chronicle: Playthrough

This week’s video is a full playthrough of The Barn at Dawn, the introductory scenario from Battle Chronicle: Retreat from Moscow, which is a cooperative Napoleonic skirmish game focused on survival, isolation, and hard decisions. Set during the catastrophic 1812 retreat, the game strips away grand tactics and sweeping manoeuvres. There are no lines of infantry trading volleys, no elegant battlefield choreography. Each miniature represents a single exhausted French straggler. These men are cut off, freezing, and desperately trying to escape enemy territory while Russian patrols close in.

The first scenario is played on a compact 2x2 table using six French figures and a reinforcement pool of twelve Russian line infantry. The Russians are controlled by an automated system. They do not “think” in the human sense; they follow simple behavioural rules based on distance and line of sight. Beyond that, they advance relentlessly. Reinforcements arrive twice per Russian turn, meaning the longer the French linger, the worse their situation becomes.

The tension in this game does not come from complex mechanics. It comes from decision-making under pressure. Each French character has three actions per turn: move, shoot, search, or fight. An aimed shot costs two actions. Loot can be discovered at designated points across the table, but searching takes time, and you do not have time. Food, firewood, and bandages may save a life later in the campaign, but stopping to search could mean being overrun.

This first game is intentionally simple. It introduces movement, survival, reinforcement mechanics, and the automated Russian response system. Later scenarios expand the table size, increase complexity, and introduce additional narrative twists. But even here, the pressure is palpable. Reinforcements recycle through the pool, so while only twelve Russians may be on the table at once, the French can face far more over the course of the game.

If you are interested in historical tabletop wargaming, Napoleonic miniatures, cooperative skirmish systems, or narrative campaign design, this playthrough demonstrates exactly how the rules function in practice. More importantly, it shows how a game can create tension through meaningful choices rather than mechanical complications.

Cavalier 2026 Show Report

The 2026 Cavalier Wargames Show in Tonbridge once again proved why it remains one of the most respected and enduring regional tabletop wargaming events in the UK. Held annually at the Angel Centre and hosted by the Tunbridge Wells Wargames Society, Cavalier has become a true “season opener” for many gamers across the South East, myself included.

After the long winter stretch between Warfare and February, Cavalier marks that moment when the show calendar properly comes back to life. It’s a chance to reconnect with fellow hobbyists, meet subscribers and friends, browse traders, and soak in some of the best demonstration and participation games the region has to offer. While it may not be as vast as some of the larger national conventions, Cavalier consistently delivers a high standard of presentation and organisation, making it a favourite among historical wargamers, miniature painters, and tabletop gaming enthusiasts alike.

Are you rolling your dice wrong?

Every tabletop wargamer knows the feeling: you line up the perfect attack, pick up a fistful of dice… and roll absolute disaster. Again. It’s easy to joke that our dice are cursed, disloyal, or harbouring a personal grudge against our beautifully painted troops. But what if the problem isn’t bad luck at all? What if we’ve been rolling dice “wrong” for years?

In this video, we take a cheerful deep dive into one of tabletop gaming’s most enduring bits of club folklore: the idea that how you roll dice might actually influence the outcome. It’s a topic that sits right at the intersection of probability, superstition, and the wonderfully odd culture of historical and miniature wargaming.

We explore a whole gallery of familiar techniques. There’s the dramatic flick, launching dice across the battlefield like plastic artillery. The long tumble, beloved of casino players and guaranteed to send dice rolling through terrain pieces. The chaotic high drop, which sounds like a bag of gravel hitting a tin roof. We also look at pre-roll shaking rituals, lucky (or banned) hands, and the ever-popular dice cup or tower for players who’d rather let gravity make the decisions.

Along the way, we gently untangle the myth from the maths. Dice are, after all, simple randomising tools governed by physics, not feelings. As long as they’re rolling freely and fairly, the results are effectively random. But that doesn’t mean rolling style is meaningless. Far from it. The way we roll dice affects the pace of the game, the clarity of results, and the shared drama around the table. It’s part performance, part ritual, and part social contract between players.

For historical wargamers and miniature hobbyists, these little habits are part of the wider joy of the hobby. We already spend hours painting figures, building terrain, and recreating battles from the past. A few dice-rolling superstitions fit right in with that blend of history, storytelling, and playful imagination.

This video is ultimately a celebration of those quirks. Whether you’re a careful cup-user, an enthusiastic flicker, or someone who shakes dice like you’re trying to wake them up, you’re not alone. Dice may be random, but the stories and laughs they create at the table are anything but.