Weekly Waffle #418 – Pocket Rockets and Gridiron Grudges

2nd May 2026

The Mojo

I’ve had another good week again this week even though I’ve been really busy at work so hobby time has been limited. I’ve been cracking on with Blood Bowl and have another couple of minis finished off. I’ve also spent quite a bit of time on the train this week and I’ve been working ideas for a couple of future projects. One is more on the kit bash side of the house with a new Gang for Necromunda and the other is a new colour scheme for an existing Necromunda gang.

For the new gang I’m going to have to track down some bits for the kit bashing so that may take a while. And for the new colour scheme I’m going to use that as an opportunity to try out some new paints. So that should be interesting when I get round to it. But what have I been up to this week.

On The Work Bench

I’ve been carrying on with the Dwarfs for Blood Bowl and I’ve not changed anything up with these guys. After all they are all part of the same team. But I am going to call out the use of water slide decals. I contemplated trying to paint on some marking but I just don’t have the brush control to do that so I went with the decals in the box. But I cheated.

Well cheating may be a strong word. But we all know that decals can often stand out on a mini so whenever I use them I make use of Mirco Sol and Mircro Set. Which are designed to try and hide the fact that you re using decals.

You start out using Mirco Set, or the blue one as I refer to it. Treat your decal as normal but apply the Micro Set directly to the mini before you add the decal. And for even better results apply a gloss varnish before starting so you applying the decal to a very smooth surface. Then simply apply the decal and let everything dry. And it is very important that you let it dry completely.

Once everything is dry you come back with the Red One, or Micro. Sol and simply apply a good amount all over the decal and the surrounding area. Then let it dry and check the result. What it’s doing to melting the decal ever so slightly, so that it blends in at the edges. On a nice even surface it will take a couple of applications and then you are good to go. If you have an uneven surface so you end up the creases and kinks, just keep going. It can’t fix everything but it can make most application look good.

Then once you are happy with everything you can either go straight to your final vanish, in my case I use an AK Interactive Ultra Matt. Or you if there is still a faint line at the edge of the decal you can paint round it to try and hide it a bit more before moving to the final varnish.

But what do you guys think.

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Tactical deep dive

There is a particular sound that resonates across the astrogranite when you face off against a Dwarf team in Blood Bowl. It is not just the clanking of heavy plate or the rhythmic thumping of sturdy boots, it is the audible sigh of an opponent who realises they are about to spend the next sixteen turns trying to punch a brick wall that has decided to move. We often spend our time talking about the Troll Slayers with their orange crests and suicidal bravery, or the Longbeards who treat every tackle like a lecture in structural engineering, but today we are looking at the unsung engine of the Karaz-a-Karak stadium. We are talking about the Dwarf Runner, the fellow who proves that while Dwarfs might be built for comfort and durability, some of them actually have a bit of a destination in mind.

Welcome back to the Chronicles here at terminatortids.co.uk, where we pull apart the lore and the lunges of our favourite tabletop pastimes. Today we are lacing up the boots of the shortest “sprint” specialists in the game. In a world of elven prima donnas who can leap over a blitzing orc without mussing their hair, the Dwarf Runner is a refreshing dose of reality. He is the man who looks at a sixty-yard dash and says, “Right, I’ll get there eventually, but I’m bringing a packed lunch and a sturdy shield just in case.”

To understand the Runner, you have to understand the peculiar way Dwarfs view the sport of Blood Bowl. To a Dwarf, the ball is not a precious object to be flicked around with flair, it is a liability that needs to be secured in a very deep, very hairy vault until such time as it can be safely deposited in the end zone. The Runner is that vault. While the rest of the team is busy turning the opposition into a collection of interesting bruises, the Runner is the one who actually remembers there is a score to be kept.

In the official background, these fellows occupy a strange social niche within the hold. They are the Dwarfs who possessed a slightly too frantic energy for the mines or the masonry guilds. While a typical Dwarf is content to stand still for three centuries to ensure a pillar is straight, the Runner is the one who actually wants to be somewhere else. They are the messengers, the scouts, and the youngsters who haven’t yet settled into the dignified, sedimentary lifestyle of their elders. On the pitch, this translates into a character who is essentially the team’s designated adult, the one who picks up the pigskin while everyone else is distracted by the prospect of a good ol’ fashioned riot.

But don’t go thinking they are soft just because they aren’t sporting the slayer’s mohawk. A Dwarf Runner is still a Dwarf. He is made of the same stubborn mountain-stuff as his kin, just with a slightly better pair of lungs and a marginally higher centre of gravity. They represent the bridge between the immovable object that is the Dwarf line and the goal line that seems so very far away. They are the tactical heartbeat of the team, the players who transition the game from a chaotic brawl into a methodical, grinding march toward victory.

Now, let’s get into the nitty-gritty of what happens when you actually put these lads on the table. If you are new to the game, you might look at their movement characteristic and think, “Wait, that’s it?” compared to a Skaven Gutter Runner, they look like they are moving through waist-deep treacle. But that is the beauty of the Dwarf game. You aren’t playing a game of speed; you are playing a game of attrition. The Runner is the fastest thing in your arsenal, and in the land of the slow, the six-square-moving man is king.

The magic of the Runner lies in his starting skillset. They come out of the box with Sure Hands, which is essentially the game’s way of saying “I am not going to let a silly thing like a fumble ruin my morning.” In a game where a failed pick-up can end your turn and your friendships in one fell swoop, having a built-in reroll for handling the ball is worth its weight in gold. It makes the Runner the most reliable piece on the board. You don’t have to pray to Nuffle quite as hard when he reaches for the leather. He just scoops it up, tucks it under a stout arm, and starts the long, slow trek southward.

Then there is the Thick Skull. It is a classic Dwarf trait, but on a ball carrier, it is a godsend. Most teams try to stop a runner by knocking them senseless. With a Dwarf, you can hit them with the force of a runaway steam tank, and there is a very good chance they will just blink, rub their chin, and ask if it’s started raining. They are remarkably difficult to remove from the pitch. While an elven catcher might shatter like a porcelain doll if a Black Orc looks at them sternly, the Dwarf Runner just keeps on chugging. This durability is his real “speed.” He doesn’t need to dodge away from everyone because he can usually afford to take a hit and stay standing, or at the very least, stay in the game.

His role on the pitch is the quintessential “Quarterback-Manager.” He is the one who hangs back, waits for the pile-up to form, and then finds the gap. He isn’t there to make flashy long-bombs. Dwarfs throwing the ball is generally considered a desperate act of heresy. No, the Runner is there to hand the ball off to a teammate or, more likely, to tuck himself into the centre of a “Dwarf Cage.” If you haven’t seen the Cage, it is a tactical formation where the Runner is surrounded by four of the meanest, hairiest blockers imaginable. It moves like a tectonic plate, slow and impossible to stop, with the Runner at the centre like the pearl in a very aggressive oyster.

However, the Runner is also the team’s biggest liability, and that is where the tension of the game lies. Because they “only” have an armour value that is slightly lower than the rest of the team, the opposition will target them with a predatory hunger. They are the soft underbelly of the mountain. A clever opponent knows they can’t break the Longbeards, so they hunt the Runner. Playing a Runner requires a certain level of protective instinct. You have to be his bodyguard, his shield, and his best friend, because without him, your team is just a bunch of very angry people standing in the middle of a field with no way to score.

This creates a fascinating psychological game. When you play Dwarfs, you are inviting the opponent to try and find a way in. You are dangling the Runner as the prize. “Come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough,” the team seems to say. The Runner themselves has to play a game of careful positioning. One wrong step, one square too close to a War dancer or a Beastman, and your star player is in the dirt. But when it works, when that Runner crosses the line on turn eight after a gruelling, inch-by-inch slog, it feels more earned than any elven touchdown ever could. It’s a victory for the working man.

Off the pitch, in the locker room of our minds, the Dwarf Runner is the fellow we all relate to. He’s not the superstar, he’s not the manic slayer, he’s the guy doing his job under immense pressure. There is a reason why so many veteran Blood Bowl players have a soft spot for them. They represent the grit of the game. They are the ones who take the hits, hold the line, and occasionally—just occasionally—get to hear the crowd roar as they stumble across the line with a defender still hanging off their belt.

So, the next time you find yourself staring across the pitch at a Dwarf team, don’t just worry about the guys with the claws or the chainsaws. Keep an eye on the fellow with the ball and the sensible shoes. He’s the one who is going to ruin your day, one slow, methodical step at a time. He isn’t fast, he isn’t pretty, and he probably smells like stale ale and damp wool, but he is the Dwarf Runner, and he has a game to win.

And for those of you currently painting up a new roster, give a little extra love to your Runners. Give them the bright trim, the fancy helmet, or the extra-detailed beard braids. They are the ones who are going to be carrying your hopes and dreams through the mud and the blood. They might not be the flashy masters of strings like some other captains we’ve talked about, but in the world of Blood Bowl, sometimes the most important string to pull is the one that keeps your socks up while you’re being tackled by an Ogre.

That’s the waffle for this week. Go forth, protect your “vaults,” and remember that in the game of Blood Bowl, the race doesn’t always go to the swift—sometimes it goes to the fellow who is too stubborn to fall down. Check back next time on the Chronicles as we continue to dive into the wonderful, weird world of our favourite hobby. Keep your beards long and your armour thick!

The Wrap Up

That’s all I have for you this week and it’s been a good week. The sun has been shining, for a change, and I’ve enjoyed my hobby time. I will be continuing on the Blood Bowl from next week with the goal of getting the base team finished. Following that I will be looking at some special characters to really fill out the team. After that I have a few things lined up and I’m going see which one inspires me the most and that will be appearing soon.

Until next week I hope you all keep safe, enjoy whatever you have planned. It’s a bank holiday here in the UK so a few drinks will be in order. And I hope to see you all back here same time next week.