Friday, 19 January 2018

Well, that was a washout...

Jolted rather rudely out of bed by a very large bang under the window.

I know that looks like a nuke going off over South Peterborough, but in fact it's the sun shining straight up our road and straight into the eyes of someone who didn't see Anne's empty parked car....

So Anne has my car for the day, and I've spent the entire day playing phone tag with insurers, repair shops and car hire. To add insult to injury (or perhaps more accurately the other way round) I pulled a calf muscle chasing after the car hire bloke to get him to park in the right place. Ow.

Managed to get some club admin done while waiting for phone calls and people to ring the doorbell, and added a couple of Firefly pieces to the Mill House Studios site. It's something, I guess.

Thursday, 18 January 2018

Accountability post 18th Jan

Phew. I have a phone again with a working touch screen. Definitely among the more serious of First World Problems, that :D (and another two hours of driving around Peterborough and moaning at Halfords about my non-working hands-free kit (now I have a phone to prove it's not working!)).


Just to whet your appetite, here's the draft cover.

  • Much head scratching over trying to tidy up the campaign flow section, and figuring out how to reduce it to an 'every campaign month' section without it starting to look like a 'pick your path to adventure' book ("If the British have won, turn to paragraph 4.1") :D Copious notes and a rough outline.
  • Decided how to deal with Rich's "Meaty Dux" article from the 2012 Summer Special, which is really just about adding a level of detail to the defences for each province. And means I have to completely re-format and probably re-title the blasted Terrain table again, adding two more columns - made a start on this. Swore a lot.
  • Re-formatted the record sheets section to be on white backgrounds for ease of printing or photocopying.
I have set an unofficial deadline of the end of the first week in February to get this to the point where I can punt it at a first set of proof-readers. (I know who they are, so please don't ask yet. Your turn will come!)

Mill House Studios

  • Did the necessary Wordpress magic to hook the site up to FB and Twitter.
  • Dug out some of my bits of game-related fiction and added them to the site. If after reading them, you would like to consider commissioning me to write game-related fluff for your rulebook or supplement, get in touch!
Tomorrow, barring interruptions (which there have been far too many of this week), is a serious Compendium day. The taxman can wait till Monday :D

Wednesday, 17 January 2018

Mill House Studios / Accountability post 17 Jan

Thus proving that no logo design survives contact with the WordPress template. :D

My wargames writer for hire site is now up, and I'll be registering with HMRC as a sole trader (alongside any future full-time developer work) sometime before October.

How's it going to work? Well, the blog will stay here: it's where its always been and I see no reason to move it. The Mill House Studio site exists to gather together and showcase published stuff I've done for magazines etc, and will also include the 3D printing services, web and design work, audio, etc.

Which pretty much sums up today's accountability post, after quite a bit of pondering things through yesterday: I designed a logo and built a website.

Tuesday, 16 January 2018

Cryptic accountability post for 16th Jan

Accountability post for 15th Jan

[Okay that answers the nagging question I had when I woke up this morning: no I didn’t hit publish on this post last night. :)]

Late start, because I stayed up far far too late watching the Vikings beat the Saints last night. (One of the perks of not having to be up early on a Monday just at the moment!)

Day then royally messed up by iPhone touchscreen packing up, much faffing around trying to persuade it to work for long enough to let me back it up. On the good side, my man Tony thinks it's a 30quid fix if I'm lucky, and I get to go visit him again tomorrow. If I'm not lucky, time for a new phone :(

Compendium progress: largely note-taking and thinking today. Had a long think (and talk with Tom at the club) about battles again. While I think we have a kind of solution that improves on what's in the rulebook, it doesn't quite have the right feel. Need to think some more.

Also, club scenery audit, so I came home with a box of stuff needing repair.

Sunday, 14 January 2018

Accountability post for 14th Jan

I'm allowed a day mostly off, right? It is Sunday, after all!

A bit of restructuring and reformatting (Mac OS X Pages is brilliant for that) of the Compendium, and for those who missed it, I gave my writing chops a workout and wrote the next piece for the Linnius Campaign, at least partly inspired by Bad Squiddo's figure range.

Oh, and I built Warbases's sightscreen from their Cricket Pavilion kit. Need it for Dead's Army :D I'd upload a photo, but the touchscreen on my iPhone seems to have literally just packed up.

"To Britain's Shores" - Chapter 17 - Spring

At last. A morning where it isn't just miserably wet and grey. I was starting to hate these British winters.

This past one, particularly. Strange, as old Theobald used to say about Leofric the Drunkard, how you don't miss something till it's not there any more. No Ecgwine, blue eyes aflame, brashly questioning the Young Wolf's decisions. No Lavinia, with her head of raven-dark hair leaning next to his unruly straw-pale mop, slim hand on his arm and the quiet word that tempers his rashness. Truth, we'd seen less of that this last year, as he'd started to learn wisdom from all of us, and she'd thus had to do it more infrequently.

But Ecgwine's dead, a British spear in his side, and she... who knows? Left in the night on Aelfric's second-best horse. The Cyning's Hall in Caer Lind Colon - Odin's blood, that's still a barbarous mouthful of a name - seems that bit darker without them both, and we...

We have become grim.




The ring of metal on metal has been the music of the Hall most days, with none questioning our Cyning's resolve to make us harder, better. Which is why I'm here in one of the Hall's outbuildings, sorting through a batch of new-made spear points. That and it gives me something to do.

We're missing Beornwulf too this winter, sent on a thankless task to bear news of his son's passing to Ecgfrith across the great sea - Ecgfrith the Cyning, Aelfric's father's brother, who charged us - me and Aelfric especially - to take care of his son and make him a man. "You can't argue we managed one of those...."

"Mmm?" Aelfric, damn him, still has a habit of sneaking up on me.

"I... uh. Just musing aloud." He eyes me for a moment, with that maddeningly prompting look of his. I sigh. "Ecgwine." Again the regard. "Your uncle. 'Keep him safe. Make him a man.'"

Aelfric nods, "We tried." A pause, then, ruefully. "And we were..."

"Ho there!!!!!" It's a yell from the gate, young Hedric. "Someone's coming up the round. A band of men..."

The Young Wolf treats me to a sudden grin. "I'll bet you it's Beornwulf."

I grin back. "Not taking that bet. I'll catch you up when I've tidied this lot away."

I head for the gate, slipping through between a couple of the buildings to join the throng: there's much backslapping of Beornwulf, and the group of warriors he's brought across the sea with him. Hel's teeth, he's even managed to persuade the tall, rangy Deorwine, one of Ecgfrith's Gedriht that I actually don't have any grievance with, to join him. He's a skilled horseman, and a fine warrior, quiet yet intelligent: never a score of words when two will do. I'm just about to clasp him by the hand when a slap on my back nearly knocks the breath out of me.

"Not dead yet, then, Godric?"

I really should have spotted that distinctive hair amid the small crowd, but she isn't tall, certainly not among men. The voice, though, is unmistakably hers, a low alto rasp. I allow myself a second or two, as Deorwine gives me a knowing wink, lips quirking in an amused grin, before I turn. "Gytha."

There might be even more grey in her locks, but other than that she hasn't changed in the time since we left. Hair the colour of iron down to her shoulders; the same well-worn mail; axe and sword at her belt; the white line of a scar the length of her cheek from a blade; eyes the grey of a winter sky.

A smile, rendered slightly crooked by that scar, quirks her lips. "Miss me?"

She always did start with the difficult questions.

Now if I could actually find the box that has Bad Squiddo's shieldmaiden warriors blister in it (which I'd link to, but I can't find it on Annie's site either!), I'd have Gytha painted up by now. Unfortunately, I suspect it's somewhere in the stuff we cleared out of the workshop so the builders could do their stuff, which means I have almost no space to move stuff into to search for it. That and it's cold out.

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