Why Age of Sigmar is Rage..

So.. there's been a lot of talk and text (and shouting and tantrums) about this whole Age of Sigmar thing.  And I for one, totally understand, but probably not for the reason you think.

We're gonna start with a story, and continue with a metaphor, then we'll see where we end up.

           Let's start the story with a fresh faced young gamer.  He sees some amazing models in his local hobby shop, and starts staring at the boxes.  Some of them have lasers in them, some have swords, some have tanks, and some have mounted knights.  A quick peek at the price and he realizes that this is a long term commitment.

           40k is a bit of a younger choice.. The game is younger, a skirmish based system, and the background is based on the idea of super human warriors cleansing evil from the farthest reaches of the galaxy.   If 40k were a woman, she would be spitting movie quotes, dressing in whitewashed jeans, and look fantastic when you were lucky enough to have her at your side.  Something rather hard to pass up to an impressionable teen.

          Fantasy on the other hand is a bit more elegant, the movement more nuanced, fighting with traditional weapons and chock full of ordinary humans simply struggling to survive through the evils of the world. Some of the models at their finest would even feel right sitting within a trophy case between volumes of Hemingway and Sun Tzu in a fine old library.  If Fantasy were a woman, she would enjoy fine art, the theatre, and her clothes would immaculately recall the best of every era of history but updated in a refined, subtle cut and cloth.  With her at your side you feel older, more mature, and adult.

            The fresh faced young gamer talks about it with his friends and picks something that appeals to him personally.  After at least some thought, and perhaps a bit of a dabble into 40k, he settles into the warm Warhammer Fantasy embrace. Lonely hours are spent huddled over his models, scraping, assembling and painting his own little corner of the fantasy universe.  Rectangles of wrath plod slowly across the battlefield hoisted over the uneven surface by cut up boxes of Wheetabix or Captain Crunch, with arguments about whether models falling off the "movement trays" constituted cheating, or just accidents of physics.
           His army fights battles over countless continents, dueling with the lizardmen in Lustria (the garden behind his friends flat,) before journeying to the World's Edge mountains to assault a dwarven clan in the clear air of a mountain pass (a disused bit of cement about the right size,) and finally being assaulted by a ragged shifting mass of dead flesh in the swamps of Sylvania (a conveniently distasteful rug in the dining room.)
            Over the years, the models get nicer, the paint jobs something worth showing to someone other than you mother, and the battlefield elevates to a table or counter of convenient size.  He makes the investment into a grass mat, and some plastic or self made terrain.  This cave over here is not just a cave, it is the home of his terribly painted (and horribly killable) Night Goblin Warboss, Jack the Giant Slayer, conveniently converted from an old plastic multipart goblin kit with a random metal giant hand superglued to the back.
        He meets a nice girl and tentatively introduces them to his clandestine love, a collection of plastic and metal lumps that have seen more time invested than his clumsy attempts at wooing.  He explains in stilted terms, the elegance and beauty of the game that has entranced his free time, and patiently waits for her approval.. a fraught few minutes or days until the next date.  
         The acceptance comes and the hobby enters a new phase.  Journeys to far away lands of Bristol or Chicago to play with other like minded individuals, who accept and encourage his now-licit second love.  He meets, drinks, and ruminates with his mates on his next army.  Over Beers, Shots, and Margaritas (if he's lucky) he discusses life, family and Warhammer.   Armies come and go, editions fall by the way side and life moves on.
        Rumblings on the horizon preface an epic move forward.. this is no Storm of Chaos, this is the End Times..  From the first page of Nagash he realizes that everything is in limbo, only because he had the luck to get a copy.  He nervously flips pages and absorbs the story, recalling hints dropped in previous army books, Storm of Magic, and Blood in the Badlands.  He frantically tries to contextualize what's happening when Brettonia is wiped out, Naggaroth is overrun, and Teclis turns in to a heartless tool.
         By Khaine he is spent, Ulthuan is gone, the rules have abandoned his lovingly cared for models, and his wife refuses to listen to another word of this warhammer nonsense.  By the time the picture is leaked that spoils the end of the Warhammer World, he hasn't touched his hobby for months, hasn't bought Archaon, and hasn't played a single game.  His game is dying, and he can't stop it.
         Finally he hears rumours of new fantasy models, new things to order, and maybe rekindle his hobby. This is the last chance to set things right, but the first glimpse is of round bases.  As the box set hits, he realizes Warhammer is gone, replaced with this painted pig called Warhammer: Age of Sigmar.  This is not the game he fell in love with.  Where is the elegance, the ranked units, the flanks and rear that he spent untold hours ogling while contemplating his next inch forward.  Where is the customization, the personalization, the land of Sylvania??
        He has new rules for every unit, and they're even free, but where is the game he loved?  This game smacks of 40k, with its' round bases, sigmarines, and skirmish movement.  What the hell happened?  He chose that refined game that smacked of history and culture over the movie quotes and whitewashed jeans, but now here it is, forcing its' way into his armies.
   
       Unfortunately at this point the story gets the cold hard does of reality.  Warhammer Fantasy was dying.  According to sources, Fantasy sold less than hobby products for GW last fiscal year.  Including the End Times, Nagash models, and Stormfiends, paint, gravel, and brushes made more money for GW.  However, Business reality doesn't break the honest reality of gaming.

          Many players started playing fantasy before they got married, had kids, graduated college, high school or even primary/grade school.  I personally have spent double the time in the same house with chaos warriors, demon princes, and spider riders, than I have with my wife.  Warhammer has been a constant when life has not.  This is the point.  It's why I chose this hobby.
     
          Age of Sigmar is not Warhammer 9th edition (at the very least, not yet.)  People are choosing to play a new game this time, not simply continuing with the old, and it is a choice.  In a very real sense, people are choosing a divorce from this new game, by staying with the old.  When you take a 25 year relationship, and change the way it looks, feels, and plays, it will hurt.  Real emotional pain, from a hobby, real life intruding into your fantasy game.  It sucks, and there can be no good explanation.  Only the truth.

       And the truth is, fantasy was dying, and maybe still is dying.  The system, the models are on life support, and making hard choices is never not stressful.  But there is good news.

         Warhammer is dead, but the hobby is not.  If you need a ranked battle game, there are options out there, like Kings of War, Warthrone, or any of the previous 8 editions of Warhammer.  If you need a hobby, only the bases have changed.  If you need the community, it is still there, and will continue to be there as long as GW releases models, but therein lies the rub.

         If you don't like Age of Sigmar, I understand, I do.  The driving force behind Warhammer is and always will be the models.  You aren't going to stop that.  No amount of rage, swearing, or burning armies on youtube is going to change that.  GW will produce models as long as they can make money on it.  The sad truth is, they weren't.  Something had to change.

        Warhammer could have just been let go, producing plastic kits until the last mold was broken, or the power to run the press was too expensive.  Warhammer could have been folded into 40k.  Lizardmen counting as Tau mercenaries, Dwarfs called Squats, and High Elves counts as Eldar.  This didn't happen.  

        Warhammer was given something, as opposed to nothing.  This fact alone speaks volumes.  Multiple someones in GW care about fantasy.  Someone cared enough to speak out against the abandonment of our hobby, and won.
        If you hate Age of Sigmar, I understand, I hated 8th.  I hated super spells that killed units in a single dice roll, armies of five models on the table, and Demon Princes.  I hate things about Age of Sigmar too.  I hate the loss of the look of massed fantasy, the choice in characters, and the option to have a BSB on my Spider Goblins. But there is one truth that has yet to be discussed.
         Without Age of Sigmar, there is no possibility of Warhammer 10th edition, or 11th.  But, the hobby is made up of people, who are also going through a transition, hoping for a future for their hobby, and more models to paint.  You can pull your models out from the cupboard, brush them off, and play with them like nothing happened.  You can't do this with a community.  You can destroy it with snarky remarks, obnoxious play, and old fashioned swearing.  And if 10th or 11th edition ends up being something that appeals to you, you might be in need of people to play it with.  So the next time you feel like dogging on someone for staying with 8th, or moving on to age of Sigmar, remember that there might be a time when you're both playing the same game again.