Sunday Musings - Computer Games Workshop
There can’t be many gamers who haven’t at least heard the name Games Workshop. Even if you’ve never dipped a paintbrush into a miniature, odds are you’ve stumbled across Dawn of War or Warhammer Online: Age of Reckoning — the digital crowns of a company whose roots lie deep in the clay of tabletop wargaming. But it wasn’t always a smooth march forward. If you wandered into the world of Games Workshop video games back in the ‘80s or ‘90s, you might’ve wondered if they were secretly running a side business in frustration therapy.
This is the story of a company that turned its early patchy, sometimes downright baffling video game efforts — think Blood Bowl where you never quite knew if your star catcher was going to get tackled or take a leisurely stroll on the sidelines — into some of the most critically acclaimed digital adaptations of tabletop lore the industry’s ever seen. All while continuing to dominate the world of plastic armies and furious dice rolls.
Games Workshop began over 30 years ago, thanks to three flatmates: Ian Livingstone, Steve Jackson, and John Peake. Peake promptly left after a year, which may or may not have involved a disagreement over dice rolling techniques or an argument about who forgot to take the trash out. The other two, however, set about building a British gaming empire that would redefine the industry.
Livingstone went on to discover Lara Croft (no small feat, given how many tombs the poor woman’s had to crawl through), while Jackson took a seat next to Peter Molyneux at Lionhead, possibly exchanging business cards or muttering about the meaning of game design. But before all that, they helped create the British games industry itself.
Inspired by Dungeons & Dragons — an American import that was about as easy to understand as a tax return for most of us — they secured European distribution rights and opened a shop in Hammersmith. They also launched White Dwarf, which quickly became the gaming bible for an entire generation, delivering news, rules, and the occasional editorial rant that made you question your life choices.
In the 1980s, if you were into British gaming, you were into Games Workshop. It was like the gaming equivalent of tea and crumpets — a foundational experience that shaped a generation.
It’s tempting to look back on Games Workshop’s early video game ventures and see a series of missteps. But let’s be kind: they were pioneers, and pioneers tend to get arrows in their backs from time to time.
Titles like Battlecars, a two-player car combat game on the Spectrum, and Tower of Despair, a text adventure of such fiendish difficulty that even seasoned players might have given up halfway through, were earnest attempts at crossing the digital divide. Yet, for every Space Hulk — a claustrophobic gem — there were others like the original Blood Bowl, whose random player placement mechanics turned tactical strategy into a guessing game with the odds stacked heavily against you. Imagine setting up a winning football play and then having the universe laugh in your face by placing your fastest receiver in the middle of a scrum. That’s Blood Bowl.
After a management buyout in 1991, the company did what any sensible firm would do when faced with a stream of mixed results: they doubled down on what they knew best — tabletop gaming — and outsourced their video game hopes and dreams to other developers. The results were, well, mixed.
The tide began to turn with Fire Warrior, a game that might have been described charitably as “ambitious.” Erik Mogensen, who joined Games Workshop’s licensing team at around this time, recalls it as a strategic turning point. Despite mixed reviews, Fire Warrior was the start of a clear policy: only partner with the best.
Relic Entertainment, the makers of Dawn of War, became the poster child of this new approach. Dawn of War wasn’t a slavish tabletop port but a Real-Time Strategy game that captured the essence and atmosphere of Warhammer 40,000 while making sense as a standalone game. Mogensen sums it up perfectly: “It mimics the feel and the coolness of Warhammer, yet the gameplay is different.” That balancing act is no mean feat — akin to simultaneously juggling chainsaws, flaming torches, and a particularly angry space marine.
The success of Dawn of War set a precedent. The company now only works with “world-class partners,” and Relic has earned so much trust that, according to Mogensen, the relationship is less formal business and more a meeting of minds — “We pretty much agree instinctively on just about everything.” One suspects this instinct extends to mutual coffee preferences and shared groans over crunch schedules.
Games Workshop has never been about replacing the tactile, messy, frustratingly addictive hobby of painting miniatures and rolling dice. Mogensen is clear: “There’s just no substitute for painting a physical thing, picking it up and moving it around a real tabletop.” This is serious stuff, bordering on spiritual.
They have dabbled in digital tools to complement the hobby, like interactive army builders and virtual army painters (which, incidentally, gave some players the confidence to put paintbrush to plastic without ruining their carefully curated collections). But the idea of a digital Warhammer tabletop? That’s a no-go.
“I get asked all the time if we could just make Warhammer 40,000 as a virtual board game,” says Mogensen. “The honest truth is no, we don’t think that would be cool.” To which you can imagine the Games Workshop team collectively raising their paint pots in a solemn toast to the gods of plastic miniatures.
Age of Reckoning had a troubled start — development began at Climax, was cancelled, and then picked up by Mythic. MMOs are notoriously difficult beasts; GW wisely decided to license rather than develop, avoiding the pitfalls of taking on MMO production themselves.
What sets Age of Reckoning apart? The setting first — not your average Tolkien-inspired elf-and-dwarf fantasy, but a darker, grittier world with a wicked sense of humor. Then the Realm-versus-Realm (RvR) system: guilds can capture cities, sack capitals, and literally torch enemy strongholds. Imagine your Monday raid night involving city-wide arson. Delightful.
The game encourages players to band together with long-term goals, adding depth and community that most MMOs only dream of. Even solo players can chip in, proving that in Warhammer, there’s room for everyone — unless you’re a particularly slow paint-drying enthusiast.
Games Workshop’s back catalogue is a treasure trove of quirky, dystopian, and downright bizarre settings, from Chainsaw Warrior to Dark Future. Sadly, these cult classics are unlikely to get modern video game remakes anytime soon — mostly because there’s not a big enough customer base left waving miniature chainsaws in excitement.
On the bright side, publishers like Fantasy Flight Games are reprinting classic board games like Talisman and Fury of Dracula, keeping the spirit alive.
Mogensen remains hopeful. “With Warhammer Online, Dawn of War, and upcoming projects, we hope to be part of the formative years of computer gaming for a new generation.” Given their rocky start, that’s no small achievement. And frankly, it’s about time.
So there you have it: Games Workshop’s tale is one of perseverance, respect for tradition, and an uncanny ability to find the right partners when it really matters. The plastic soldiers still march on the tabletops, but their shadows now stretch across screens worldwide — and with any luck, they’ll keep on doing so for another 30 years or more.