Fortress: Ameritrash Blog

The smell is appalling. The melange of human waste, rotting meat, and unwashed flesh is enough to turn even the most iron of stomachs. Echoing down the roughly hewn tunnels are the barks and gibberings of the goblin tribe. At the end of one narrow tunnel, devoid of even the questionable illumination of the smokey pine tar torches in other areas of the lair, is the small cavern used to hold captives. The four humanoid residents sit huddled together attempting to find comfort and a degree of warmth by remaining in close proximity to each other. ...

      Normally, games based on movies and TV shows are usually not worth writing about ; however, Escape from New York delivers.  The first thing to notice is the art on the cover, which invokes a feeling of “I wonder if this game is going to be a piece of shit or not” – it looks like the artist was the inspiration for Leifeld and his signature of distorted body parts.  Substandard artwork (excluding the fairly cool drawing of the crazies by Erol Otis of D&D fame inside...

"Sail Ho!" comes the cry from the heights of the main mast. "What do you make of her?" bellows the Mate. He moves towards the rail. The spray of water from over the side feels good upon his face. "She flies the Union Jack," comes the reply. The mate nods grimly. If it is the ship they have been seeking, the British vessel that has been molesting American trade in this part of the Caribbean, it was apt to get hot. He lays his hand upon the shoulder of near by...

I first reported on Quarriors! a long time back, when it was first released at a GenCon 2011. Anyhow, I played it three times and I talked to a bunch of people who had just dropped fifty bucks on it; unanimous love and gushing praise was on their lips. Well, after a year of not playing it, I decided to get a copy of it so my kid would have a game that we could play together that wouldn't bore me to death. Turns out that not only does my kid not want to play it, it bores me...

The small red dome offers solace. It gives the eye something to focus on. A feature to keep the mind from snapping as it searches for anything to occupy it other than the horrible white. The  nylon sides snap and crackle as the winds blow unimpeded across the wasteland.  The man wipes away the flakes from his goggles with one heavily gloved hand, adjusts the fur lined hood of his parka and trudges on. Not too far to go now. The tracks left by his shuffling feet are soon obliterated by the layers of snow that continue...