Why Kinslayers?
You really want to know?
Creative rebellion — that’s why.
I just couldn’t wrap my head around it.
I’d spent countless hours painting models, reading the lore, and learning the mechanics — but I couldn’t find a style or flair that felt like me. I got creative and made do (later learning that what I was doing was called kitbashing). Then, barely six months later, the goalposts shifted. The books changed. Apparently, I now needed five of them just to stay current — and mine, well, were already out of date. The “release” had come and gone. People moved on. Quickly. I was new to it all, but for everyone else, it seemed… accepted.
Was this really what tabletop skirmish and wargaming were about?
What happened to the storytelling magic of Dungeons & Dragons, the community spirit of Critical Role, or the humour of Viva La Dirt League? Where was the creative spark — the freedom to tweak, paint, and breathe life into the thousands of STL files flooding MyMiniFactory and Kickstarter?
It was deeply frustrating.
This hobby was never cheap. And while I could afford to stay in, I couldn’t stop thinking about everyone else — especially kids — locked out of this creative outlet behind a paywall. Locked out of the joy of imagination made tangible, of shared stories, of mentors found across a table.
The pandemic was over. The world was healing — slowly, painfully. Yet loneliness was at record highs, prices climbing, boys drifting without compass or cause. Many were still searching for meaning beyond a Bugatti. And still, profit triumphed over people, imagination sold off to the next billionaire chasing rockets.
You see — Australians have a visceral reaction when we think someone’s trying to take the piss.
And if there’s a chance to work around them, well, we’ll usually have a go.
What started as a joke between mates soon became a classic “hold my beer” challenge.
And here we are, nearly three years later.
I couldn’t stop talking about Kinslayers — a place where any model, any story, and any creator could find a home. Where you could forge your own fellowship, feel the weight of leadership, and the sting of loss when a warband member fell in battle.
I wanted a game that wasn’t always eight versus eight or ten versus ten. Where each race wasn’t locked into fighter or archer roles but could be shaped by imagination. A sandbox — defined enough to feel real, yet free enough for anyone to carve out their own corner of the world and build a campaign worth remembering.
I tried other systems. Some were too grim, too mechanical, or too fleeting. Many were great — but none felt quiet enough. What I wanted was that old magic again — the wonder and awe of epic fantasy, tinged with a little thematic dread.
Swords - Sorcery - Story
I couldn’t find it. Maybe it’s out there. Maybe I missed it.
But at some point, I started piecing the fragments together — a realm of traditional fantasy races, not good versus evil, just people surviving the chaos and calamity of a dark disaster.
Kinslayers may not be for everyone — but it’s for me.
And I suspect, for a few others out there, too.
I can not wait to see the models, the terrain setups, the campaigns — and above all, the stories.
To see friendships and fellowships forged that last a lifetime (in true Tolkien fashion).
What began as a few notes on lore and character origins became
The Saga of Sundered Souls
For I had over 90,000 words of myth, culture, and intertwined tales born in a single inspired week.
While I can’t promise the rules won’t evolve, I can promise this:
You will always be welcome at the table — even if you ignore the lore and show up with strange little “mud-monsters” (John!), or minis cut from a cereal box.
Whatever you bring will be yours.
It will never need to be shelved just because a new edition drops.
Just be sure to ease off the video games sometimes, get some sun, and hit the gym when you can.
And remember — Henry’s one of us!
His advice? Keep it simple: “If you like her, just ask her out.”
It always worked for him.
And girls — definitely noticed the colour, and creativity you’ve brought to the tabletop in recent years.
Don’t wait for him; he didn’t notice that third glance.
Tell him you like his painting, ask for a pointer or two, and mention what food you love.
Yes, it needs to be that clear.
If you want to learn more, delve a little deeper —
below are the early concepts, loose sketches, and the spark that started the storm.
Thanks for following the journey.
See you in Anduin!
May your stratagem and spellcraft win the day.
Vlaan
