A lot has been written over the years about the Easter eggs and in-jokes that were scattered throughout Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay’s first edition. Between 1997 and 2001, I wrote three articles for the excellent Warpstone magazine, telling what I remembered. Now it’s more than twenty years later, and Warpstone is long out of print, and people still seem interested in my memories of those far-off days, I’ve decided to revisit the subject, book by book, over the next few weeks. Some posts will be longer than others, inevitably, but hopefully all of them will be interesting – and who knows? Maybe you’ll find something that you hadn’t noticed before.

Let’s start with the core rulebook.

Starting with the cover art, the severed head on the Goblin’s banner is a self-portrait of artist John Sibbick. The warrior fighting the Ogre is Bryan Ansell.

A Right Bunch of Characters

The career illustrations, by Tony Ackland, feature the likenesses of several Games Workshop notables, not always in the most flattering light!

The Bawd is a portrait of Richard Halliwell, who was known for his exploits in and around Nottingham’s nightlife. The sign over the door in this picture reads “Ye Olde Den of Iniquity.”

The Beggar has the face of John Blanche. There was occasional friction between John and Tony, since they had pretty much an opposite approach to art, life and everything else. The illustration for the Megalomania derangement also bears a certain resemblance to John, probably because of some piece of office politics at the time.

The Scribe is Rick Priestley, who did most of the writing on the Warhammer miniatures games as well as writing the first draft of WFRP. Inscribed on the side of his desk is “Rank Xerox”, which was the brand of typesetter GW used at the time.

The Charlatan is Bryan Ansell again. The paper he is holding is “The All-Purpose Unsolicited Testimonial” – obviously from a satisfied customer!

The Cleric is Richard Ellard, who was the manager of the GW Design Studio at the time. The holy symbol hanging on his chest incorporates the Volkswagen logo, in tribute to his beloved (and far too fast) car of the time.

The Illusionist in the magic chapter is based on Steve Jackson – the British one, who co-founded Games Workshop and co-wrote the Fighting Fantasy gamebook series, rather than the American one, who founded Steve Jackson Games and wrote GURPS.

There are a couple of other hidden celebrities, too.

The Bounty Hunter looks a little like Clint Eastwood’s “Man With No Name” character from the Sergio Leone westerns, and the Tomb Robber (who also appears in the illustration for the Spot Traps skill) looks something like Indiana Jones.

The illustration for the Shadowing skill bears a striking resemblance to the actor Humphrey Bogart, in his roles as Raymond Chandler’s detective Philip Marlowe and Dashiell Hammet’s detective Sam Spade. The writing over the door here reads “House of Ill Repute.”

The original GW hardbound edition included a number of color plates, including “Evil Races” by Bob Naismith. The ghoul bears a distinct resemblance to Margaret Thatcher – or at least, to the puppet version of her in Spitting Image, a popular satirical TV show of the time. She was still Britain’s Prime Minister in 1986, and a very divisive figure.

Arcane Writings

Whenever you see a book, a scroll or an inscription in a WFRP illustration, pause for a moment and take a good look. It’s amazing what you’ll find – although you’ll need a good eye to pick out the writing in some of the smaller images.

The Alchemist in the advanced careers section has a number of interesting books on his shelf. In additon to a bound collection of Playboy, the titles read “The Electron Microscope,” “A Quick Guide to Quantum Physics,” “Do-it-Yourself Nuclear Fission,” “Organic Polymer Chemistry,” and “How to Blow Up…” (we’ll never know what, since his head is in the way).

The Lawyer in the same section has a book under his arm which will no doubt prove invaluable – it’s called “101 Easy Ways to Pervert Justice”.

The books for the Wizard in the advanced careers section are somewhat more basic – “Magics” and “Book of Base Metals”. However, the wizard at the start of the Magic chapter has a more advanced library, including the “Necronomicon” and the “Book of Eibon”. No wonder WFRP is often compared to Call of Cthulhu!

Dave Andrews’ magician in the section on Grimoires has some fairly standard-looking magical books: “1001 Spells”, the “Book of Base Metal” again, “Arcane Magic. Vol Ill”, and the ever-popular “Total Mayhem and Destruction”. But look closer – you can just make out the first couple of lines of the parchment at the bottom right of the picture: “Once upon a time, there were three bears…”

The Writers Were No Better

Don’t think the artists had all the fun, though. The writers found plenty of opportunities to add jokes and pop-culture references.

WFRP’s career system is one of its most distinctive features, and many players have said that the large number of colorful careers is among their favorite aspects of the game. Some of this color came right from the fevered imaginations of the design team, but many careers were actually inspired by the street life of Nottingham. Agitators, Bunko Artists, Jugglers, Pavement Artists and even the odd Seer could be found on the streets and squares of Nottingham in the early 80s — I’ve no idea if they’re still there, but I’ve never seen such an assortment and concentration in one place.

The skill Flee! allegedly originated when Richard Halliwell discovered (outside a nightclub, so the story goes) that it is possible to run faster than you ever thought possible if there’s a clear threat to life and limb bearing down on you. I have no idea if this is true, but Hal did seem to have a rather interesting life at that time. You’ll recall that the picture of the Bawd is based on him.

What’s in a Name?

The Chariots of the Frogs joke with the Old Slann has passed into legend, but there are plenty of other quips in the World Guide — mostly in the place names. Rick gave free rein to his rampant xenophobia (defined, in his case, as a deep-seated distrust of anyone not born in Lincolnshire), and the results are there for all to see — if you know how to read them. This is what I can remember of the gags that are hidden in the World Guide — there may well be more.

The River Ois, for example, is based on the Nottinghamshire dialect word wazz, which means… well, what dogs do to trees.

And Bordeleaux, when pronounced with a mock-French accent, becomes bordello, as befits a city noted for its dens of vice. Remember, this was a time before Grail Knights and the like. Morceaux, of course, is named after the French word for pieces — don’t ask me why — and Sannez looks like it might have something to do with sanitation, but I don’t remember Rick telling me anything about it.

Estalia fares little better. The name of Bilbali is loosely based on Bilbao, but owes more to an old music-hall song titled “Won’t You Come Home, Bill Bailey” — that’s a strange one, even for Priestley. Magritta takes its name from the Margarita, and the Abasko mountains take their name from Tabasco sauce — though what the Spanish connection is there I couldn’t tell you.

A few changes had to be made to Tilea. The Pirate Isle was originally called Mafea, but that seemed a little too obvious so it was changed to Sartosa. And Miragliano was originally called Gauno, but so many people didn’t notice the anagram and read it as Guano that we decided to change the name. And as many people already know, Remas was named (with a little misspelling) after Remus, the brother of Romulus who gave his name to Rome. So far as I know, though the “Reman Empire” never sprung to mind — we had a vague notion that there was a classical empire to go along with the Classical language, but that was all.

The Imperial capital also had a change of name to Altdorf. It was originally called Carlsburg — not a million miles away from a well-known brand of lager — but that name was also canned (pun intended) as too obvious. Middenheim made it through, though — midden being an archaeological term for a refuse heap or pit. Rick, Nigel Stillman, and I were all archaeologists before moving into games. What that says about archaeology, or games, or the three of us, I shudder to think. Moot is an Anglo-Saxon word for a meeting, especially a council meeting or county court, which made it an easy candidate to replace Tolkien’s Shire as a name for the Halfling homeland. The name of the River Reik is obvious — too obvious, perhaps, with hindsight.

The Oldenhaller Contract

This is where the WFRP tradition of bad NPC names started, with Grolsch van Eyk in the very first scene. The name of the Reaver’s Return is taken from the Rover’s Return, the local pub on Coronation Street, Britain’s longest-running soap opera. The Deutz Elm is named after Dutch Elm disease, and based on the message boards that Hal saw while youth hosteling round Europe. I don’t think any of them had ads from people wanting to hire mercenaries, though.

And that’s it for the rulebook. Next time, I’ll start on the Enemy Within campaign.

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