The BrikWars Universe
Inhabitants of a plastic-brick universe heed no laws of logic, continuity, decency, or moderation. Unrestricted mayhem is the rule of the day.
A Magikal Wonderland
BrikWars is a marvelous Pandora's box, an endless fount of destruction and mayhem, where every Koincidence falls in favor of maximum violence, and life is cheap, plastic, boxy, and bears only the most superficial resemblance to our world of flesh and mortgages. Time is marked from moment to moment by oscillating peaks of melodrama and troughs of absurdity. Rules of continuity and physics are as malleable as we in the 'real' world have learned to expect from a lifetime of superhero comics, schlocky action movies, and public education - and they're always trumped by the dramatic requirements of the moment and the liberal application of Murphy's Law. Even the rules governing BrikWars itself are unresistingly overturned by a haphazard shrugging of shoulders and the players' mutual whim. Spelling is consistently poor.
Brik, Not Brick
BrikWars is spelled without a 'c.' This is not a typo; this is part of the system's intrinsik nature. BrikWars is about the celebration of mayhem. It turns a suspicious eye towards infidels who believe that rules are made to be followed. If there's a "right" way of doing things, including spelling, BrikWars stands in opposition to it.
The trappings of reality become 'realistik' when translated into BrikWars' realms: bricks become 'brix,' a mechanic becomes a 'Mechanik,' and acts of unconscionable and horrifying violence become 'Ossum.'
A Tradition of Gratuitous Everything
In their most dignified form, BrikWars battles pay witness to lovingly crafted scenarios and intricate models, presided over by serious wargamers and careful strategic thought, missing the point entirely. Dignity and BrikWars go together like one clone-brand brick with another: while they appear to fit at first glance, their attachment is brief and doomed to violent mutual repulsion.
BrikWars battles take place in a world of minifigs, and the minifig species draws its heritage from generations of hard-fought survival in the toy chests of six-year-old children. Whether knights, spacemen, construction workers, or chefs, their souls thrill with the racial memory of a time when a toy's highest calling was to do joyous and bloody battle with all challengers. In the primordial toybox, it doesn't matter if one toy is a fire truck and the other is a teddy bear, built to incompatible scales and originating from unrelated eras. It doesn't even matter whether they have anything to fight about. Pandemonium is an end in itself.
Like all toys, minifigs exist for the sole purpose of getting themselves killed in the most entertaining and gratuitous manner possible. Castle guys blasted by space cruisers? Sounds great! Sea pirates versus assault helicopters armed with laser-guided stealth buzzsaw sharks? Go right ahead! These are the battles that BrikWars was made for.
Minifigs are not bothered by their own grisly deaths, because theyve seen so many of their families and friends die in similar fashions and they know how hilarious it is. Unlike green army men (who tend to get melted) and action figures (with their unfortunate affinity for getting blown up with firecrackers), a minifigs later reincarnation is almost assured, either in whole or in distributed parts. Hideous disfigurements and glorious deaths are the high points in an existence otherwise spent lying around bored in a box of unused bricks. So if for no other reason, you owe it to the poor guys. Inject a little joy into their lives by slaughtering them in huge numbers.