Ian Preebz in the 41st (and a half?) Century

(example of Ultramarine Space Marines)

Warhammer 40,000. I miss playing Warhammer. . . The thing is, now that I have enough money to play it again it has been plaguing my brain. Sometimes, when I am extremely bored or in an especially dorky mood, doing my usual internet surfing, I check out the Games Workshop website.

I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you where all this table top war game madness began. I was a youth, no more that 10 years old. In the West Seattle Junction a gaming store had recently opened. It was amazing, a cathedral to all that is dorky. I can't recall the name, but to me it was a mystical place.

It was here that I bought my first booster pack of "Magic the Gathering" cards, here that I first purchased a starter deck of Star Trek TNG CCG (The Next Generation Collectible Card Game), and here, where I first fell in love with the 41st century.

Warhammer 40k, as we would call it, was a table top strategy game where two or more players would pit units of rival armies against each other. I was hooked instantly.

(example of a modeled table)

I would sit and watch for hours as players would assemble the terrain, made from Styrofoam and cannibalized model train sets. From these they would assemble hills, rivers, place trees and bunkers to create a battle field.

(prime example of a battle field)

Then, they would assemble their armies. I wanted to play so bad, but I did not have the money for an army. Sometimes one of the dorks would lend me a pitiful army just to decimate an innocent 10 year old. But I did not loose heart. I saved my small pittance of an allowance and bought the booster packs assembling an army literally one man at a time.

I watched as these fierce armies did battle, led by their dorky generals. There was the Imperial Guard, the average human fighting force for the Empire; the Space Marines, the genetically engineered super human army loyal to the Emperor; the Eldar, a mystical race of elves; the Orcs, a slobbering idiotic race whose only beliefs were war and death; the Tyranids, a race of bio-organic weapon wielding hive-mind race; and finally Chaos, the horrifying race of Space Marines who had rebelled against the Emperor and had been warped by evil gods who live in the "Eye of Terror" a gargantuan rip in the fabric of Space-Time.

(Battle for Macragge, the New Starter Set)

I saved and saved, and was finally putting together a mildly decent army. Then, one day, my parents bought me the starter set. The starter box was about 100 bucks, which was a lot of money to spend on a 10-year-old in 1993. It came with an Orc army and a Space Marine Army.
My favorite were the Space Marines, they seemed like an unstoppable force of good and righteousness. My young and impressionable mind still held the ideas of "Absolute Good and Absolute Evil" as truths in this world and I wanted to fight a crusade against the evil armies of the 41st century.

After buying me the starter set I would beg and plead my father to play (he was always the Orcs) and soon I was a skilled player no older than 11. I felt as though I was on top of the world.

Then, one day without warning, the shop closed. It seems that more people were concerned with playing the game there than buying anything. When the owner tried to charge for table time all the players moved the games to their houses.

I was distraught. I had spent the vast majority of my allowance money for that year on a game that I no longer had anyone to play with (my father had grown tired of loosing). For a while I played the game against my self. I would set up the armies and bunkers and battle for hours. But, like any game of strategy played alone, it was unfulfilling.

I boxed up my armies and moved on, back to Magic and Star Trek, and now to Dungeon and Dragons. In high school I met a few people who played, but it lacked the magic it once had. I ended up selling my armies and forgetting about the game.

Maybe it's nostalgia, but now that I am older I think of my battles waged in the 41st century. I remember the crushing defeats and the joy of destroying the enemy. I remember beating dorks more than twice my age and the fierce pride I had in myself. But, in the end, this is long lost. I doubt I will ever pick the game up again. I will, however, look at the website and smile my nostalgic smile knowing the joys I had playing Warhammer 40,000.