Your youngster is bound to make countless mistakes in this new hobby, and haven’t we all? Be patient, try to guide them as gently as possible and once again don’t be surprised if they quickly forget the advice you just gave them about getting rid of those frickin’ mold- lines! This is the true reason for getting the Battle of Macragge box in my opinion. The models are simple, you’ve got the rules and some dice, but it really is just a set of training wheels for modeling. I guarantee you down the line your little hobbyist-in-the-making will refi ne his techniques so many times that these fi rst models will be nothing more than a fond memory of learning.
There is a massive amount of cutting to do, and soon Andrew was eager to fi nally get some assembling done. Go ahead and let your prospective Neophyte super glue while you fi nish cutting and begin priming. I’ve found, especially younger children, lack the strength and dexterity in the hands to properly apply a primer coat from a spray can; the result often being a vaguely Space Marine-shaped form oozing with excess primer surrounded by a pool of paint that missed its unfortunate victim. If the youngster wants to learn some easy basing then now is a good time to ease them into
how much paint to put on the brush and displaying proper cleaning and so forth. Now is also a good time to teach a few simple techniques. Drybrushing and a simple black wash technique will give your youngster more than enough to chew over. Just let them go at it and as time progresses you can help them master these simple techniques. Hopefully they can one day teach you the
advanced ones you never bothered to learn yourself! Once again, these miniatures will either sit on the shelf forlorn and forgotten or be stripped and painted better late on. So long as your hobbyist is happy is all that matters at this time.
FINALLY, TIME TO PLAY!
Once Andrew was content that his Space Marines and his Tyranids were ready to be painted without my guidance, I suggested we play his fi rst game. At this point I decided it would be more fun to introduce basic mechanics through a game of Kill-team, his power armoured monsters against my
A small brood of Tyranids ready for priming.
for us, however, our wonderful grandmother is a sewing enthusiast and has a respectable collection of fabrics. We soon had a simple desert coloured sheet and with a handful of old children books we had our fi rst game board. This set up is simple enough for anybody to achieve, just take a quick trip down to any local fabric store and you’re sorted. It’s not glamorous, but it is certainly more appealing.
I decided on Kill-team as an introduction to the hobby because not only could I use my own miniatures and stir up some friendly competition between us, but a dumbed- down game of Kill-team is still a bit more complex then the starter missions given in the Battle of Macragge box. I let Andrew be the Kill-team player fi rst in an Assassinate mission, which he naturally stomped me at. For the next game I let Andrew choose. He decided to be the Brute player in a Last Stand mission, which meant he also got some experience setting up terrain.
Because we were pressed for time at the end Andrew lined up his Space Marines in a silly fashion to execute his, “fi nal charge”. I fi gured why not entertain the idea and follow suit? I lost again, but we both had a great time regardless. When introducing the hobby, especially to younger children, have fun and don’t be too much of a stickler about rules. Good, playing-for-fun vibes will emanate to your disciple and there will always be time later on to teach the nuances of the rules properly.
THE RESULT?
Our hobby experiences together have been nothing short of bliss so far. Hopefully with nurturing and time I’ll have a rival, an ally, and a companion that can always be relied upon for those overwhelming hobby undertakings in the grim darkness of the far future.
Instant sand dunes!
Flamers kill Imperial Guard dead. Notice a Blood Angel amongst Andrew’s ‘green marines’? It is one of my own fi rst miniatures on loan!
#
20:05 Hours #
++Always a pleasure to hear from the
esteemed Vigiles, Chief Inspector Charkorov, but I heard you feckless, chinless civvies had all gone AWOL++ Colonel Guutheim’s usually hearty voice was frayed and brittle, but it wasn’t the bad line-quality to blame. ++You heard right, Colonel. Just me minding the store, now++
++Very lonely, I’m sure. Social call, then, is it?++
#
Chief Inspector of Vigiles Rill Charkorov sat alone among the empty desks and dark holding cells, the abandoned administration fl oor alien and cold. He tore off the wrapping paper, crumpled it into a ball and tossed it out the broken window. It dropped away into deepening shadows pierced by alarms, breaking glass, small-arms fi re and
retirement. Alitov had never once, in forty years a Vigiles, made swing shift on time. Now, he never would. Charkorov opened the cheap box and took out the presents he had bought. Not one but two gold-plated pocketwatches.
“Why two?” Alitov would have asked, amused but puzzled.
“A man with one watch always knows the time,” Charkorov would have replied with a wry smile, “but a man with two is never certain.”
Alitov was a good detective; he would have understood.
#
++Not really++ Charkorov decided to stall for time. The Colonel was an old friend, but what he was about to ask for was beyond any bonds of friendship. ++How is it your way?++
++None of my men have run, Chief Inspector, if that’s what you mean. The Autocrator’s Auxiliary 37th Armoured are
++So, Chief Inspector. What can I do for you?++
#
Charkorov slipped both pocketwatches into his overcoat. Alitov understood all too well – he had family; loved ones to be with in the few hours they all had left. Alitov had gone home, along with the rest of them. Charkorov couldn’t blame him; it wasn’t Alitov’s fault he was sitting here alone drinking while the world waited to die. The pub-vox screeched into life again. The emergency transmitters must be back up – at least someone was still doing their job. For a moment, Charkorov remembered what hope felt like and he swung his feet off the desk and leaned forward. The set squealed and hissed, then the machine-voice started up mid-sentence, as if it had never been away, “-Autocrator Mallik has been declared Excommunicatus, Hereticus Diabolis and Traitorus In Extremis by Inquisitor Baletayn of His Most Holy Inquisition on a dozen specimen charges of-”