Two weeks ago, the phrase “British Nerd” was relatively pleasant to me. I’d picture David Tennant, or Richard Ayoade, or even Hermione Granger, and everything was fine. “Oh,” I’d think, “Perhaps they’d like to discuss Neil Gaiman for a while!” Not now though. Now I picture a guy sitting alone at a restaurant, his waiter sending out every available physical signal of “I’m busy” as this lone man asks for the third time if she’s sure they don’t have mead, much as they did 700 years ago when this very building was the most prolific mead-hall in all of Pevensey. This book is called Fantasy Wargaming: The Highest Level of All. It’s got a game in there if you hate games and fun.