The Word of Hashut - Part I, A Look Back

 

(With apologies to Conan the Barbarian, 1982)

Between the time before social media and the rise of the sons of Hashut, there was an age undreamed of. And unto this came Willmark, destined to bear the burden of the Word of Hashut upon a troubled brow. It is I, his chronicler, who alone can tell thee of his saga. Allow me to speak of the days of the ezine era!

I had more hair back then...

In the early 2000s, Games Workshop was a slumbering behemoth, and a few armies were abandoned in the wilderness. Chaos Dwarfs were cast into darkness; Dogs of War wandered the fringes of the Borderlands with no marching orders; Warhammer players scoured the world for scraps of lore like exiles clutching broken tablets.

From this desolation came a spark.
That spark became the Wordof Hashut: a fanzine forged in the deep furnace of the Dawi Zharr’s will. A magazine not written by a corporation but by a community that refused to die.

From there the era grew.
Skavenblight Gazette rallied the ratmen and became an undisputed leader. And from Tilea came Gold & Glory, the last great banner of the mercenaries, stitched together with pride and desperation in equal measure.

These were not simple PDFs.
They were acts of rebellion.
Declarations that no army would be forgotten so long as one fan still drew breath and had a half-functional copy of Adobe Acrobat.

It was a wild age. A mad age.
An age driven by passion instead of polish, by camaraderie instead of clout. It burned fast and bright and left its scars, some of them literal. The Word of Hashut was not the first ezine, yet its impact may have been the mightiest.

And now, years later, the time has come to tell its story.

Now that I have your attention. As many of you know, my name is Willmark, Editor-in-Chief of Word of Hashut. And after a time, I also served as Editor-in-Chief of the ezine Gold & Glory for the Dogs of War, two of the armies abandoned by Games Workshop from seventh edition onward.

Here is the inside story of the Warhammer ezine era you never knew existed.

We are coming up on fifteen years since the last issue of the Word of Hashut. In many ways it seems like yesterday; in others it feels like a lifetime. My life has changed, my children have grown, and now there is an old man staring back at me in the mirror each morning.

Before all that, a frazzled, time-starved Chaos Dwarf enthusiast worked many nights into the small hours to produce the Word of Hashut. Looking back, it is a blur but also a heady time, when nothing constrained us. Games Workshop had forsaken the Chaos Dwarfs, but the fans had not.

Before we take even the first step, it is important to point out the landscape as it existed. The Word of Hashut was not the first ezine or webzine to exist, far from it. Several came before. In fact, the Word of Hashut would arrive later in the overall scene.

Faction	Ezine	Years	Issues
Chaos Dwarfs	Word of Hashut	2008–2012	12
Skaven	Skavenblight Gazette	2007–2011	11
Vampire Counts	The Invocation	2008–2012	12
Ogre Kingdoms	Bellower	2008–2011	8
Dogs of War	Gold & Glory	2009–2010	3
Dark Elves	Druchii Herald	2005–2007	3
High Elves	Citizen’s Levy	2008–2009	3
Dwarfs	Doomseeker	2008–2010	3
Orcs & Goblins	Waaagh! Magazine	~2006–2008	~4
Wood Elves	Asrai Lookout	2009–2010	2
Chaos Dwarfs (proto)	Word of Hashut Holiday Specials	2008–2011	2
Dogs of War (minor)	Tilean Dispatch / 6th Column	2009–2011	2–4

There they are. When viewed now, the list seems shorter than it felt at the time. Perhaps memory plays tricks. There always seemed to be a great deal of activity across the various forums, and always a new ezine being launched or announced. I know; I was on the primary site for each faction daily back then. Likely there were more ideas than finished projects, and the effort required proved greater than most expected.

I think I can speak to that. I handled the layouts and the Editor-in-Chief roles for two ezines. More on that soon, but it seemed wise to first set the stage before we dive in. It was a wild and wonderful age in which fans banded together to create something Games Workshop had forgotten: a hobby magazine rather than a glorified sales catalog.

The ezines had something White Dwarf did not, a soul, and it showed.

Next up: The Dawn of the Ezines, Part II.

For reference, the current Chaos Dwarfs Online site.

Over the Hills and Far Away: The Essence of Hurled into Eternity

  

There’s a moment — right before you turn over the card — where everything hangs. The breath holds, the blood stills, and luck’s got its boot on your throat. Is the Grim Reaper paying a visit? Maybe Lady Luck half smiling? 

Who knows for sure?

That’s Hurled into Eternity in a nutshell. It doesn’t hand you anything. You take it. Inch by inch. Scar by scar. 

And if there’s ever been a song that understands that journey, it’s Over the Hills and Far Away by Led Zeppelin.

At first listen, it’s a gentle invitation. The acoustic strumming, Plant’s voice light as a breeze. You’d almost think it’s a song of hope. But Zeppelin never does anything directly. There’s always a twist in the trail. As the track unfolds, the strings get harder, the drums dive in, and that soft beginning turns into a relentless push forward. It’s not a song about reaching a destination, well...about the open road. It’s a song about clawing toward it. 

And knowing you might never get there.

Sound familiar?

Hurled into Eternity is the same way. The game isn’t about easy victories or cinematic glory shots. It’s about survival — raw, knuckle-blooded survival. It’s about pushing past the odds, when the cards don’t favor you, when the Judge smiles that razor-thin smile, and you know the house always wins.

The line from the song that sums it all up?

"Many have I loved, and many times been bitten / Many times I've gazed along the open road."

 

That’s every character in Hurled into Eternity. Haunted by the miles behind them, battered by the ones ahead, but still walking; bloody but unbowed same as laid out in Invictus. Because there’s no other choice. You don’t get to sit on a porch and strum about the past. You’ve got to shoulder your regrets and keep going — into the dust, into the dusk, and, if the deck’s kind, maybe into a legend of your own making. You either rise to the challenge, or get ground into the grave.

The Wild Card System that fuels the game feels like that riff. It starts simple — just a deck of cards — but as the game plays on, every draw, every suit, every Joker bite ramps up the stakes. It’s quiet tension turned into roaring momentum. It builds, never knowing when Lady Luck might turn on you.

So, when you sit down at the table, the next time you reach for your deck, put on Over the Hills and Far Away. Let it ride shotgun with you, you won't be disappointed.

Because the trail is long. The deck is stacked. And there’s no one coming to save you.

But damn if it isn’t a hell of a song to walk into eternity with.

(Hurled into Eternity is set to ride the open range, Spring 2026) 

Hurled into Eternity, The Road Ahead

Where We’re At (And Where We’re Going)

It’s been a busy stretch behind the scenes for Hurled into Eternity. If you’re just tuning in, here’s a quick status update on where things stand and what’s coming next.

The core rule book is fully written and internally locked and loaded. Every major system has been reviewed and stress tests are ongoing: the Wild Card System, Luck and Hand of Fate mechanics, wounds and death, professions, and Judge guidance. It’s all there — and it works the way it’s supposed to. Brutal. Clean. No half-measures.

The Wild Card System itself has gotten its final polish. The revised 2.0 version makes card values even more distinct: Jacks always fail, Kings always succeed, Queens are a 50/50 gamble, and Aces are rare triumphs that give you Luck back. Jokers are now better tied to your reputation (Good, Bad, Ugly, or Weird), and they don’t save you — they change the story. It’s all running leaner and tighter now, with a better sense of pacing and dramatic rhythm in play.

Two major expansions are in development:

1. Weird West – Currently the most developed, this expansion brings dark folklore, ghost stories, and grim Americana into the Hurled framework. Spells are live and deadly. The Reaping & Reckoning table handles catastrophic failures. New professions like Dust Tracker and Witch Hunter are already written and integrated.

   It contains a full bestiary of unnatural threats is underway for the Weird West, starting with ghosts, revenants, scarecrows, and haunts. Each creature gets a full write up, mechanical profile, and guidance for use in dark tales of frontier horror. 

2. Gangland – Think 1920s noir with a switchblade in its teeth and a Tommy gun in its hand. Set in a fictional version of a Prohibition-era city, the game trades spells for rackets, bribes, and vice. It’s about loyalty, betrayal, and blood in the streets. You’re not a hero. You’re a name in the paper — if you’re lucky.

The game’s tagline still stands:

Hurled into Eternity isn’t about easy victories or quick glory. It doesn’t meet you halfway — it expects you to bleed for every mile. 

That philosophy continues to guide every design decision: brutal but fair, evocative but lean, and always anchored in a tone of desperation, tension, and earned survival.

Ahead are more updates, and perhaps some surprises. For now, shuffle your deck and keep your eyes on the horizon. The next card might change everything.

Previous update and link to the Alpha rules can be found here (I'm trying to avoid linking to the rules multiple times in the blog) 

The Good, The Bad, and the Exploding Jukebox: Why Streets of Fire Is a Western in Disguise

“A Rock ’n’ Roll Fable. Another time, another place.” – That’s your tagline. But make no mistake — this ain’t just a synth-drenched fever dream.

This is a Western, baby. Maybe the most overlooked one of the 1980s

Streets of Fire is it. Yes, I posted about this previously, but this a different look at the movie.

The Stranger Rides In

Tom Cody doesn’t make an entrance — he materializes off a subway train like vengeance made flesh. Trench coat, thousand-yard stare, and a complete lack of patience for scumbags.
He's the classic drifter gunslinger, just upgraded with a butterfly knife and a pump-action.

The Damsel in Distress (But Make Her a Rock Star)

Ellen Aim (Diane Lane, somehow both vulnerable and iconic) isn’t just the town’s sweetheart — she’s the lost flame. Kidnapped by The Bombers, she's the spark that draws Cody back to the Richmond.
It’s Shane with synth-pop. And honestly? That works.

The Villain: Raven Shaddock

Willem Dafoe in vinyl overalls looking like Nosferatu took a detour through a biker bar?
Check.
Raven is pure menace — the kind of guy who probably licks knives and monologues to pigeons. And he's perfect.

The Weapons, the Ride, the Arsenal

Before storming the gates of Torchie’s, Cody stops by Pete’s garage and loads up like he's prepping for Commando 2.
Shotgun? Check.
Custom ride stolen from the Roadmasters? Oh hell yes.
Backup in the form of McCoy (Amy Madigan)? Absolutely. She's a hard-drinking ex-soldier with a mean right hook — a sidekick worthy of any spaghetti Western.

The Rescue and the Wreckage

• Sneak into the Bomber's lair.

• Deliver a one-liner to Raven promising the real reckoning.

• Gaze longingly through the window at the captive Ellen while a synth ballad swells.

• Blow the place to hell.

• Use a butterfly knife like a ninja with PTSD.

• Escape through a thousand-to-one odds gunfight.

Standard Tom Cody procedure.

The Escape and the Aftermath

• Hijack a motorcycle.

• Fight with the girl. Kiss the girl. Let the girl go.

• Jump a roadblock.

• Shoot at cop cars.

• Stop a moving bus with your hands.

All in a night’s work.

The Final Duel: Cody vs. Raven

No guns. No backup. Just two guys. Two sledgehammers.
Industrial floodlights. Sweat. Rage. Cinematic glory.
Tom could kill him. Doesn’t. Because Tom doesn’t need to prove anything — he already did.

That Final Scene…

As Ellen sings “Tonight Is What It Means To Be Young” (seriously, peak Jim Steinman nuclear-operatic thunder), Cody walks off into the night.
He could stay. He could cash in.
But that’s not who he is.

He came. He saw. He exploded some jukeboxes.
And he left like a myth.

 TL;DR

• Trench coat? ✔️

• Western at heart? 💯

• Rescue the girl? ✔️

• Sledgehammer duel? ✔️

• Ride off alone? ✔️

So yeah. Call it a Rock ’n’ Roll Fable all you want.

But when the neon fades and the synth dies down, you're left with a gunslinger, a showdown, and a damn fine walk into the sunset.

Tom Cody: Level 10 Fighter, Chaotic Good (with CN tendencies), weapon specialization in ass-kicking and throwing punks through windows.

“There’s nothing wrong with going out and looking for a fight. As long as you know you’re gonna win.” – Tom Cody

Red Dead Redemption 2 - A Retropsective

Four Years Later: Red Dead Redemption 2 Is Still One of the Greatest Video Games of All Time

What can be said about this game that hasn't already been said before. But as a fan of westerns? I approve, wholeheartedly. I'm not going to try and say more, its already been said and then some. There is a ton of sites that dissect it in detail, videos, articles; you name it. I can't hope to match all that content, nor will I try. What I'm going to do is simply note how it impacted me when I played it.

It’s hard to believe, but it’s been over four years since I completed Red Dead Redemption 2. We picked it up for Willmark Jr’s PS4 during Christmas 2019, along with a brand-new large screen TV. It was a perfect setup—and I had no idea I was about to experience one of the most immersive and emotionally resonant video games ever made.

The odd part was I wasn't the first to see it in the family. My wife saw a friend of hers playing it before I did and mentioned it to me. I didnt think about it too much at the time but my interest was engaged for sure.

Before I dive in, let me clarify: this isn’t a step-by-step breakdown or an in-depth review. It’s a high-level reflection—free of spoilers—for those who haven’t played it yet (though at this point, if you haven’t… what are you waiting for?).

So why blog about a (now) older game, especially now that we’re deep into the PS5 era? Simple: Red Dead Redemption 2 is the greatest video game of all time. Yes, even better than The Legend of Zelda- A Link to the Past —and believe me, saying that feels like heresy, but here we are.

It’s Not Just a Game. It’s a Masterpiece.

When I first mentioned I was playing it, a coworker sarcastically called it “that horse riding simulator.” How wrong he was. Red Dead Redemption 2 isn’t just a great Western—it redefines what a video game can be, especially one set in a genre that historically struggles to find footing in gaming. 

Western games can’t lean on the traditional “crutches” of fantasy RPGs: no orcs, no fireballs, no enchanted swords. The strength of a Western—whether on paper or on screen—lies in its characters, narrative, and atmosphere. Games like Boot Hill, Aces and Eights, and my own Hurled into Eternity live or die on these pillars.

And this is where Red Dead 2 doesn’t just succeed—it soars.

The final 30 minutes of the game? Neither my so who was watching me play it nor I uttered a single word. And then the emotional impact of losing his horse? In my case I had been using the same one since Chapter 2.It was like losing a beloved dog.

Arthur Morgan: A Character for the Ages

One unexpected benefit of my play-through was going in blind—I hadn’t played the original Red Dead Redemption, so I didn’t know that John Marston was the protagonist of that game. My first exposure to the world came through Arthur Morgan, and what an introduction.

Arthur is easily one of the most compelling characters ever written for a video game. His story arc is deep, layered, and emotionally devastating in the best way possible. The pacing—from the opening hours to the final act—is nothing short of masterful. His ending likewise meomryable, perhaps one of the greatest heroic death scenes in any video game.

And the supporting cast? Equally remarkable. Whether it’s gang members, townsfolk, or total strangers you encounter, the game builds a rich, living world that doesn’t feel like a sandbox—it feels like a place.

A World That Lives and Breathes

The sheer scope of Red Dead 2 is staggering. You’ve got political intrigue, racial tension, industrialization, and even the occasional meteor crash. The world feels alive, not because of gimmicks or spectacle, but because of its people. Despite the people seeming blending into each other there are so many who stand out, to say nothing of the Ven der Linde gang itself,

The game doesn't ask you to save the world—it just asks you to survive in it, and in doing so, you become a part of something greater than a main quest. You exist in this world. And that’s rare. I can't help but draw the parallels to my own game of Hurled into Eternity.

The (Minor) Quibble: Online Play

If there’s one consistent knock against the game, it’s the online component. I’ve only dabbled in it, but Willmark Jr has spent more time there and describes it as “fairly weak.” But that doesn’t detract from the single-player experience at all. If anything, it underscores how complete the main campaign is—an online mode just isn’t necessary.

Final Thoughts

Call it 10/10. Five stars. Game of the Decade. Whatever scale you use, Red Dead Redemption 2 is at the top of it. Not just for its game-play, or visuals, or soundtrack—but for its heart.

Rockstar Games, take a bow. You didn’t just make a great game—you made something that will be remembered for decades to come.

And I can’t imagine anything changing my mind.

Gaming, Growing Up, and the Ghost of the ’80s

Glad it didn't happen in my town in the 1980s...

Of Stranger Things

As I reflected on THE CAMPAIGN in (Parts I, II, III, IV, V, VI ) , I realized how deeply formative that experience was for me—not just as a gamer, but as a early teen navigating the strange and wondrous years of adolescence. Decades later, the memories are still vivid: the characters we played, the choices we made, the jokes, the deaths, the victories. But more than that, I remember the feeling of it all. The time. The place.

Am I filling in gaps? Romanticizing the rough edges? Probably. But does that matter?

I don’t think it does.

In many ways, these memories aren’t about perfect accuracy. They’re about meaning. About resonance. And as I think about this, I’m reminded of something else that tapped directly into those same feelings: Stranger Things.

Later this year, Stranger Things will come to an end. And while the Upside Down didn’t open up beneath my small Western New York town (that I know of), the show still managed to capture something remarkably true. The way it recreates the 1980s—from the mall culture and cassette decks to the friendships forged over character sheets and Mountain Dew—feels like it was pulled from the collective memory of an entire generation.

It’s often called a “love letter” to Gen X gamers. But I think it’s more like a message in a bottle. Something we threw out to sea decades ago, filled with the thoughts we couldn’t quite name at the time. And now, years later, the tide has returned it to us—weathered, a little warped, but still true.

Or maybe it’s a time capsule. Buried and forgotten, until one day it cracks open and you’re face to face with who you were.

That’s how rereading what I wrote about THE CAMPAIGN felt. Like opening something sealed away by time. Like remembering who I used to be when everything felt new and limitless.

There’s a scene in Stranger Things that stuck with me: Will wants to keep the game going, but Mike is distracted—by Eleven, by the changes pulling them into adolescence and away from childhood. That dynamic mirrored what happened with our group. After THE CAMPAIGN we migrated toward Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay, Twilight 2000, and 2nd Edition AD&D. By our late teens, we had landed in Warhammer Fantasy Battle. The games were still fun—but the magic of THE CAMPAIGN never quite returned.

Not because we stopped playing. But because we were growing up.

That was our zenith. Our Stranger Things moment. And while everything that followed had its own feel to it, nothing quite recaptured the spell of that first, long campaign.

Like the kids in Hawkins, we changed. The world changed. And that’s part of why the show resonates so deeply. It reminds us of what we left behind—not just dice and character sheets, but a sense of discovery, of possibility, of unbreakable bonds forged in basements and dimly lit bedrooms. And rock-hard stale pizza left over from the week before.

Yes, some of us stayed friends. But life took us in different directions—careers, families, moves across the country. In my case, I eventually found myself back in the town where it all started.

As Season Five approaches, I suspect Stranger Things will be about more than monsters. It’ll be about endings. About letting go. Maybe even about what comes after. But for those of us who lived that era—not just watched it—that ending is going to land differently.

It’s going to mean something.

I’m looking forward to it. But I’ll admit—I’m also bracing myself. Because saying goodbye, even to something that only existed in fiction, still stirs up everything we thought we left behind.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s the point.

The Inspiration for Hurled Into Eternity

 

Illustration by Edward Borein

In any creative endeavor, there are people who inspire us—who push us to do more or lead us down paths we hadn’t even considered. That’s certainly been true in the development of my game, Hurled into Eternity.

The funny thing is, some of those influences I recognized while building the game. Others I only saw in hindsight—ghosts riding alongside me the whole way, whether I knew it or not.

Movies -  Upfront, it's easiest to say the most obvious inspirations are movies and TV. Pale Rider, The Good, The Bad and The Ugly and especially Tombstone and Unforgiven absolutely deserve a spot on the short list of influences for Hurled into Eternity. They’re baked into the bones of the game, whether I meant them to be or not. There’s something about their tone: dusty, desperate, mythic—that lines up perfectly with the world I’ve been building for over two decades.

Music- Music. Music is essential. While working on the latest iterations of Hurled into Eternity, I listened to a ton of Western-inspired soundtracks. One of my go-to favorites is The Lone Ranger soundtrack, along with this absolute gem from Ennio Morricone: Guns for San Sebastian.

After a while, though, I needed something fresh—and I stumbled across this original composition by Steven Lynn. It sounds like it could be in Red Dead Redemption 2 its that good!

Terrain and Buildings - Fall and winter are usually when I hunker down at the hobby table. That’s when the brushes come out, the minis get primed, and the terrain pieces start to take shape. Right now, I’ve got the beginnings of a frontier town called Timber Ridge coming together. It’s a fictional outpost set somewhere in a mythic version of Wyoming—a place with its own legends, rival factions, and more than a few bodies buried beneath its streets.

Alongside that, I’ve also got some old model trains that once belonged to my dad, dating all the way back to the 1940s. I need to dig them out. There’s something deeply satisfying about using a piece of family history to help build a fictional world. Somehow, it all connects.

Working with something physical—terrain, paint, tools—also helps get the creative gears turning in a way that’s hard to replicate on a screen.

Why the Southwest Always Wins - If you’ve ever wondered why so many Western RPGs, films, and stories are set somewhere in the American Southwest, I think it comes down to one thing: the Gunfight at the OK Corral.

That single shootout in Tombstone has become the gravitational center of the genre. There were other towns, other legends, and other infamous clashes—but none carry the same mythic weight.

And yes, the title of my game—Hurled into Eternity—isn’t just poetic. It’s pulled directly from the next day’s edition of the Tombstone Epitaph. That headline stuck with me. It said everything the game tries to say: when you draw your last card, you're not walking away.

Cards, Dice, and the Roads Not Taken - Cards have always played second fiddle to dice in most game designs. Dice dominate as the go-to resolution mechanic, and very few systems—maybe eight to ten at most—use playing cards as a core part of their engine, either fully or partially.

Not long ago, I looked up Gunslingers and Gamblers and felt a brief gut punch when I saw it mentioned cards. Then I dug a little deeper and saw it actually uses poker dice. Relief.

To the best of my knowledge, Hurled into Eternity is the first Western RPG that uses playing cards exclusively to run the whole system. And there’s a reason you don’t see that more often: it’s tough to pull off.

Cards offer a lot—tension, unpredictability, narrative weight—but getting them to feel fast and natural at the table without bogging things down? That took years of trial, error, and rebuilding from the ground up.

What I’ve got now feels sharp. It’s dangerous, intuitive, and full of risk and momentum. The way a proper Western should feel.

RPGS- I’ve mostly steered clear of other Western RPGs—and that was intentional. I own the Savage Worlds rules and I’m familiar with how Deadlands uses cards for initiative, but I made a conscious effort to avoid diving too deep into that material. I wanted Hurled into Eternity to remain honest and original, not a remix of someone else’s work.

In fact, it wasn’t until I had the game mostly locked in—around version 7.5 Alpha—that I really started looking into what other Western RPGs were out there. I came across some excellent games, no question. But I’m glad I waited. For better or worse, I wanted Hurled into Eternity to succeed or fail on its own terms.

That said, I didn’t avoid everything. There were a few titles I did check out, mainly for reference—to make sure I wasn’t unknowingly treading the same ground. Those were:

•  Western City (By Jorg Dunne)
•  Boot Hill (1st and 3rd Edition)
•  Go for Yer Gun  (By Simon Washbourne)
• Weird West (by Stuart Robertson)

Each one offers something different, but I always came away feeling like I was still building something distinct. 

Other RPG Influences- While it might not look like it in the form it is in now, the following games had a part in influencing me over the years with Hurled into Eternity:

• Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay (1st Edition)
• FASERIP Marvel Superheroes
• Twilight 2000 (especially early on its development)
• Gangbusters (An absolutely incredible game!) 

There you have it, just where Hurled into Eternity got its nods from.