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…