Fantasy RPG Player Miniatures: Total Coverage

I would like to propose here my concept of Total Coverage for Fantasy Role-Playing Games player character miniatures.

If you catalog the races and classes in the World's Most Popular Role Playing Game, you will find that there are 7 races and 11 character classes.  The races include: Dwarves, Gnomes, Halflings, Humans, Half-Elves, Elves, and Half-Orcs.  The classes include: Barbarians, Bards, Clerics, Druids, Fighters, Monks, Paladins, Rangers, Rogues, Sorcerers  and Wizards.  Some races have favored classes, and these favored classes are emphasized by miniatures manufacturers, so you'll find a lot of elf rangers, dwarf fighters, and halfling rogues.  But what do you use for a miniature if you have a half-orc druid?  What if you have a gnome paladin?  These combinations are underserved by folks in the miniatures business.  Surely there must be a need.

Total Coverage here means that every race, class, and gender is physically represented by a miniature.

Before I get into the math, I will assume that there are only 2 genders.  I appreciate that there are many who do not feel comfortable in the dominant culture's 2-gender system, but the infinite spectrum of genders we live in is impossible to thoroughly represent with a necessarily fixed number of clothed 1-inch figures.  I hope that all reading this can be content to fantasy role-play using a miniature intended to represent one of two genders, with some possible user-instigated modifications to the physical miniature.

So, with 7 fantasy races, 11 character classes, and 2 genders, we would need 154 miniatures to represent everybody.

That's a lot of sculpting!  But we might be able to reduce this, by making some reasonable substitutions.

For starters, what is really different between a Wizard and a Sorceror?  To most people, the term is interchangeable.  But gamers know that Wizards study their spells from a book and use spell components, whereas Sorcerors are relieved of that burden.  As adventurers, however, both Wizards and Sorcerors can reasonably be expected to carry around some equipment, such as a change of underclothes, trail rations, rope, a tent, etc., so both can plausibly wear a backpack large enough to accomodate the Wizard spellcasting gear which the Sorceror doesn't need.  Therefore, we combine the Wizard and Sorceror miniature to make the Arcane Spellcaster, and we only have 10 classes to represent.

Similarly, what is visibly different between Paladins and Fighters?  Both wear the same armor and carry the same weapons; so visibly the only difference should be the Paladin's holy symbol, which doesn't need to be all that big, and there's no reason a Fighter can't also wear a holy symbol.  Maybe the Paladin has a brighter paint job.  Let's combine the two classes into the Warrior, and now we have only 9 classes to represent.

Now things get a little delicate: how different is a half-elf from a human or an elf?  How different are they at about 1/64th scale?  Sure, an elf's ears can really poke out of a hairdo, but what about a half-elf's ears?  For the sake of argument, let's imagine a miniatures spectrum without explicit half-elves.  Could a player get by using an elf or a human miniature in place of a half-elf?  If we can substitute this, we cut our races down to 6.

Running the numbers now: with 6 races, 9 classes, and 2 genders, we only need 108 miniatures to represent everybody.  That's almost a 30% reduction in sculptures from our original 154.

We can attempt to reduce this further, but it gets tricky.  Sure, most races are going to look similar in full plate armor with their helmets on.  But the whole point of this is that everyone should have some identifiable form of physical representation.  Halflings are different from Gnomes in that Halflings have fuzzy feet.  Bards need their musical instruments.  Barbarians need to look savage.  Rangers need bows.  Druids need to look nature-y.  Monks need to look like they came out of a kung-fu movie.  I think the 108-figure system is a reasonable compromise.

Crystal Shine My Little Pony

I went to my local big box retailer and picked up 2 "blind bag" My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic figurines; to parents, these are bluish foil bags about 4 inches x 5 inches with a single pony figurine inside.  The previous line featured pinkish foil bags.

I'm not so fond of these Crystal Shine ponies.  These are made of a sturdy-yet-flexible vinyl material similar to the pink-foil-bag ponies, but whereas the pink bags featured opaque ponies, the blue bags have translucent ponies.

I suspect these translucent colors are intended to look very glasslike, but to me the matte surface makes them look gelatinous; your toy looks like a Gummy Pony.  You can also see where the head is attached (glued?) to the neck stalk through the figurine's translucent head, which is somewhat interesting, and reduces my desire to take them apart.

I am somewhat reminded of the tragic disabled sister in Tennessee Williams' "The Glass Menagerie," who has little glass toy animals.  Somehow, the glass unicorns get bumped and lose their horns, and having lost their magical features, they are mere horses.  This reflects (glass--reflects--Ah almost had a joke there, son) the sister's status; she is a young woman in her prime and she should be considered as radiantly beautiful as her Southern Belle peers, but her deformity (like a unicorn losing its horn) relegates her to ordinary, plain, non-magical status.  Of course, her self-image as unlovably flawed is largely imagined; there, I spoiled the play for you.

Of course, the flip side of this is that these sturdy ponies are flexible enough to survive any number of reasonable bumps and not lose their fine appendages; if only that sad sister had Rarity or Twilight for unicorns!  Those horns aren't breaking off any time soon!  On a similar note, if there are any teen girls out there, you are way prettier than you think you are; bug your folks to sign you up for Karate practice and your instructor can teach you special moves wherein you develop deep inner reserves of self-esteem.

Regardless, if the maudlin "Glass Menagerie" comparison is not enough to sour you, the gelatinous appearance might remind you that much of the gelatin in gelatin-based treats comes from boiling the flesh and bones of hooved animals ("Soylent Gummy Bears are made of PONIES!  Maybe.").  Oh, did I mention that I'm a vegetarian?

But besides that, they're just plain weird-looking: you can see right through their skin and any skeleton and organs and muscles they should logically have.  It makes me wish I could actually see a nice, healthy skeleton inside the figurine, with healthy eyeballs and organs and blood vessels and so forth.  In fact, maybe you could see how the pegasus wings attach to the equine body's skeletons, which would answer a lot of questions.  Unfortunately, their all-gelatinous appearance just emphasises the fact that these toys are dead.

What?  You just bought a bunch of these for your daughter?  Ah, don't worry about it; she probably won't think about that.

Roller Derby

Some friends took me out to roller derby, and a grand time was had by all.  I enjoyed it much more than my previous exposures to professional wrestling.  There was a greater emphasis on scoring, and a diminished emphasis on fighting or inflicting suffering, which is why I prefer women's college hockey to professional hockey.  I cheered until I was hoarse.  I encourage you to attend a roller derby spectacle in your municipality.
I know what you're thinking: sure, you might enjoy watching and even cheering for a roller derby team, but what happens if you suddenly get dragged away, strapped into roller derby gear and forced to compete?  Specifically, what could you possibly use for a Roller Derby Name?
If you can't come up with one on your own, I recommend you choose one of these swell Roller Derby Names I ground into paper with graphite rods:
Elektra Cute
Skates O'Frenic
H P Shovecraft
Kata Hari
Hello Gritty
Rainbow Smash
Apple Smack
Blueberry Toughen
Mitz Krieg
Queen B-cup
Thugubus
Rainbow Smite
Briana Kracker

English Latin

If you do something with someone else, you have Cohorts.  But if you work alone, you are logically a single Hort.

If you reschedule something to a later date, you are Postponing it.  However, if you want to reschedule something to an earlier date, logically you must be Preponing it.  This word has reportedly been adopted by English speakers in India, and comes from the Latin praepono.

Please direct any complaints to whoever keeps putting Latin into English.

I Love the Post Office

If you've ever ordered anything through the mail, you know the anticipation and thrill of getting packages delivered to your door.  Ever since I was a kid, I've loved ordering things through the mail from far-off places.  Things I couldn't find in the retail shops in my small town. 

Now, thanks to the power of the Internet, this becomes even easier: no more browsing paper catalogs, no more order forms.  I add stuff to a virtual cart and check out.  Toys not available in local toy shops, Hawaiian shirts--from the great state of Hawaii, books and CDs not prominent nor profitable enough to pay for the retail shelf space, small-run items direct from their creators...  All these things have enriched my lifestyle tremendously. 

And whenever I can, I specify delivery through the U.S. Postal Service. 

Of course, I love writing letters.  And after I moved out of the house, I started sending out greeting cards during the holiday season.  Now I mail out over 100 holiday cards to friends and family every year, hand-made with a home-built linoleum block printing press constructed from some old boards and a door hinge--Martha Stewart fans, take note!  I also mail out gifts: for the holidays, for birthdays, sometimes just because friend or family has a need.  I love tracking the package through the Postal Service's website.  I love picking out beautiful stamps that reflect my interests and personality. 

And I do all this through my neighborhood post office, conveniently located on my way to work.

This entire essay might seem silly and inane, praising the Post Office like I were praising warm woolen mittens and whiskers on kittens (I've already covered brown paper packages wrapped up in string), were it not for the following: the U.S. Post Office was created under Benjamin Franklin on Wednesday, July 26, 1775.  You might expect conservatives would support this agency of the United States of America which predates our Declaration of Independence, but in fact our venerable U.S. Postal Service has been under attack for years.  The Privatization Mania so inescapable under George W Bush, which rallies under the banner of "The Government Can't Do Anything Right," took a big swipe at the Postal Service in 2006 with the Postal Accountability and Enhancement Act, which forces the Postal Service to pay ahead 75 years' worth of medical expenses (a requirement no other agency is required to satisfy), thereby creating an artificial annual budget shortfall, and forcing the Postal Service to take drastic measures to cut costs, including cutting staff, closing facilities, and limiting service.

With the economic decline during the George W Bush presidency comes a decline in postal traffic: fewer people can afford to purchase merchandise, meaning fewer parcel shipments; fewer job openings mean fewer resumes going out; with lower incomes, letter postage becomes an extravagance.  Reduced education budgets translate to reduced ability or desire to write letters.  Technology drives more customers to cheap email and "texting."  Accordingly, the Post Office has simply had less business, which further contributes to the Postal Service's budget shortfall.  I want to reiterate that an economic downturn is precisely the wrong time to cut budgets on basic government services, particularly those which employ lots of people.  And consider the fact that the Postal Service built many local post offices in really convenient locations for dirt-cheap prices; now that businesses have built up around the local post office, that local post office is on prime real estate; if the Postal Service closes and sells that facility, it may be impossible to buy the building back or build a decent replacement at an affordable price. 

The 2006 Postal Accountability and Enhancement Act has pushed the Postal Service into an untenable position leading to decline, as I suspect was the original intention, but this decline is not inevitable.  Senator Al Franken of Minnesota has made efforts to prevent many of these proposed post office closings in the State of Minnesota.  If you enjoy the benefits of the United States Postal Service and you don't want it to go away, you can tell your Senators and Representatives...

...using the U.S. Postal Service.

Kristofer Straub's "Starslip:" a space (and time) odyssey

Kristofer Straub is a web cartoonist raised by 2 engineers.  Engineers are the members of society who envision and design our future, so it is hardly surprising that Straub should be steeped in science fiction.  Sometime around 2005, Kristofer Straub started a webcomic that would eventually become "Starslip."  It started simply enough: a fussy nebbish of a museum curator running an interstellar art museum--like a library "bookmobile" showing Earth's greatest artworks to other cultures of the galaxy, if that bookmobile were something like the "Enterprise" from Star Trek--in a gag-a-day format.  The story features short story arcs: a week-long story here, 2 weeks-long there, but things change when the museum curator falls in love with a beautiful princess from the moons of Jupiter.

The story arcs get longer.  Characters who were once introduced as throw-away one-joke characters get long, interconnecting plots.

The starship travels in 2 different modes: a slow mode with (nuclear fusion rocket?) propulsion through regular space; and a fast mode which allows the vessel to transpose itself interdimensionally with another vessel in a similar timeline.  Basically, the ships' computers find a parallel universe where almost everything is identical to the current universe, except that parallel vessel is parked where you want to be, and you're parked where that parallel vessel wants to be.  Then, your 2 vessels "trade places" interdimensionally, using no rocket fuel.  This form of transportation is known as "Starshift" or "Starslip" drive.  Unfortunately, a big problem lurks in the "ALMOST everything is identical" specification: in one universe, the curator is courting the beautiful princess of Jupiter; but then the curator "Starslips" to a universe wherein that princess has died tragically. 

Now our unimpressive curator has a mission in his life, and we witness him becoming a tragic hero.  He must find some way to get back to his princess: the one love of his life, but the computer predicts it will be years--perhaps lifetimes--before they ever find the right parallel universe.  Our hero starts breaking rules and stepping on toes in order to get back to his true love.  He earns some powerful and villainous enemies, and overcomes great obstacles.  Many strips no longer feature a joke in the final panel, instead punctuating with melodrama or pathos. 

During the last year of Starslip, the loose threads and disposable characters we once thought disconnected finally tie into the main story.  The end becomes a tremendous dramatic climax to what was once a gag-a-day satire comic strip. 

I say "last year" and "end" because Starslip officially ended on June 15th, 2012.  Sometimes comic strips (especially webcomics) simply end because the cartoonist gets busy with other activities or the cartoonist runs out of ideas, but Starslip ends with an actual conclusion.  In 2006, Straub and Starslip won awards, but in my opinion, the final year was really the best year of Starslip. 

You can read Starslip for free on the web, http://www.starslip.com/, or you can pay the cartoonist to send you bound volumes of the entire run of the strip on paper.  Buy them.  Give them as gifts to the sci-fi fan in your life.

Now, if only the cartoonist would please draw characters with noses...

Expect More Positivity

I just noticed how negative many of my previous blog entries are.  I was reminded of the Kevin Spacey character in the 1995 movie "Seven;" Morgan Freeman's character reads the Spacey's character's journals, and he finds an endless river of negativity and disgust.  No wonder Spacey's character became a sociopathic serial killer!  He hates everything!

Wait a minute...  What does that say about me? 

"Yeah, that Anton was a quiet guy...  Kept to himself a lot.  Never figured he'd be the type to destroy an entire planet with a Doomsday Laser.  Then I read his blog."

I'm not really so negative, I'm just venting; unfortunately, I don't have a klatch of ladyfriends (nor a support group) who I feel comfortable enough to vent this stuff with.  So I post it here as therapy.

So I will try to post only positive things here for a while.  Eventually, I hope to have a 50/50 mix of positive and negative material.