Last Saturday a contingent from the Society attended Salute 53 to run Marcus’s The Labyrinths of Mars Game, a mash up of John Carter of Mars and the board game Labyrinth.
Above we see Marcus giving a last minute briefing to Chairman Mark and Alan.
Here are a couple of shots of the Labyrinth before the games started.
The LabyrinthThe game set up, ready for the Salute hordeA view from the other sideAndy and Marcus before the first game
Next up some of the Heroes, Villains and Creatures of Barsoom.
A pair of Red Martian adventurersA Synthetic ManRed Martian Adventurers engageAn Amt and it’s victimA Thark, or Green Martian
More information of the making of the game can be found at a previous blog post
The game proved very popular with visitors to Salute 53. We ran several games with enthusiastic participants.
Mark H and Marcus running a game.Competitors studying the Labyrinth as Andy and Mark H look on.The game in progressAnother game in progress
And, we are very pleased to say that the game impressed the South London Warlords, as they gave it the Most Innovative Game award.
The Most Innovative Game of Salute 53!
Well done to Marcus and the members running the game!
One proud game organiser!
An interview with Marcus appears on the On Table Top You Tube channel, at around one hour in.
There are only 4 days to go before the big wargaming show Salute 53 this Saturday 11th April.
The society will be there with this years show game ‘The Labyrinths of Mars‘, we are at stand GD10 so if you are at the show come and have a game.
To set the scene the games creator Marcus will tell you a tale …
The airboat glided low over the shimmering fringes of the Toonolian Marshes, the whirring propellers thrusting the craft forward, slicing through mist that shimmered with a faint bioluminescence. The turgid waters—a foetid and heady brew of rot and decomposition breathed below. A vast, swampy expanse where the air itself seemed heavy with memories much older than Barsoomian civilization older than Helium.
Ahead rose the blackened silhouette of the stronghold of the mastermind of Mars, Ras Thavas. Or what remained of it.
Sections of the high perimeter walls had collapsed outward, as though struck not by outside force but by violent upheaval from within. Stone lay in jagged heaps among half melted metal structures. While a handful of towers remained standing, even these were badly damaged The ugly scent of the marshes diminished as the air filled with the smells of scorched alloy and bitter chemicals.
Kael Torm stood behind Paxia on the flier’s narrow deck, one gauntleted hand gripping the rail. A mechanical left eye, secured from Ras Thavas himself many years previously by Paxia’s father, clicked faintly. It adjusted focus, scanning the silent ruin. “Lady Paxia,” he murmured, “the walls were not breached. They were shattered by an outward blast.”
Paxia nodded once, guiding the craft forward. “There were many scientific marvels in that place. Things unimagined by most. Just like your own eye Kael. We should be cautious.” Kael said nothing. He trusted her insight more than his own instincts.
They were just around the height of the walls, passing between their jagged remnants, when it happened. A sensation, a subtle shudder, passed through the hull. The airboat did not lurch or buck. Instead, the resonance of the engine slid out of harmony. Paxia felt it in her fingers before she heard it—a shift in weight, a quiet correction not her own.
Kael stiffened. “Something from the past just woke up.”
A thread of pale blue light drifted upward from the ruins below. Or did it actually appear to flow back from the craft, drawn down like an insect to some stimuli. It did not strike like a weapon. It caressed the hull, spreading in delicate geometric patterns—flickering filaments that appeared only for a moment before dissolving, as if ashamed to linger.
The airboat slowed.
The controls deadened beneath Paxia’s hands. Not dead.
Directed.
“Not something built today,” she paused. “Not even by the Mastermind himself.”
Kael nodded grimly. “If Ras Thavas had discovered it, he would have studied it, controlled it and used it, not left it slumbering.”
The descent, understood or not, was deliberate—almost courteous. The craft spiralled downward in a slow arc. Paxia glanced another flier for an instant. “We are not the first to investigate the beacon.” She pointed an abandoned vessel out to Kael as their craft landed in the inner courtyard with such precision that it could have been guided by a careful pilot.
The pale light vanished as if nothing had occurred.
Kael scanned quickly. “No structural damage. No heat deformation, but it drained the power.”
Paxia dismounted, staring at a faint etching now marking the flier’s underside. “Someone told the system to bring us here. And not just us.”
“And that someone?” Kael asked.
“Let us find out.”
She did not say what both now suspected—a relic system of Thern origin and unknown antiquity.
They approached the broken entrance leading beneath the stronghold. The carved archway had bowed inward, its supports cracked but still standing, as though the building refused to surrender its secret integrity.
The interior passages sloped downward almost immediately. Their was little left above ground except rubble. The air cooled. Shadows deepened into long, uneasy shapes cast by flickering power crystals. Paxia and Kael moved carefully, past glass vats burst like monstrous eggshells and restraints torn from their housings.
Paxia crouched beside a burn mark spiralling toward a cracked drain. “Deliberate venting,” she murmured. “Someone freed these things. Whatever they were.”
Kael scanned the dark. “It seems unnaturally quiet.”
They continued downward into a labyrinth crafted from Ras Thavas’ unique combination of science and eccentricity. Corridors twisted in mathematically unsettling patterns, forcing constant reorientation. Paxia touched the wall lightly—an instinct for pattern whispering to her.
“We are being directed,” she said softly.
Kael frowned. “Driven?”
“No. Welcomed.”
They emerged into a vast subterranean gallery.
Here, the ceiling soared high, supported by angled pylons cracked with strain. Broken control tables lay overturned, cables sprawled like lifeless tendrils. A single shimmer of light flickered across the far wall.
And there stood a figure. Four grotesque hulking creatures accompanied it. The brutes stood around her in ritual formation, their faces and bodies a pastiche of regular beings. Each held heavy swords and daggers, silent, and alert. She, the figure, and one of striking power and grace, was examining her reflection in a fractured mirror panel while her hands worked some unknown controls.
“You are punctual,” she said as they approached. Paxia observed the woman and her white skin. “To what end have you wrought this havoc, Thern?”
The woman turned. Recognition flared—followed by something more unsettling.
Curiosity. “You may address me as High Priestess of Issus. I inherited that title from my Father.” Paxia’s brow furrowed. “Phaiador died falling when she jumped from a flier. I heard that story from John Carter himself”.
“A shame he is not here to see this. I had hoped the beacon might bring him. But the daughter of Paxton will suffice.” Kael’s sword was held only at the ready, honour-bound until threatened. Pistol resting at his hip. “My followers found me broken and brought me, barely alive, to Ras Thavas. He healed me. But I am Phaidor, I could not be less. He used synthetic flesh to rescue my body. But it was not…enough. After he met your father, Ras Thavas became interested in travel between worlds, particularly between Barsoom and Jasoom. He was intrigued by those who had travelled like Paxton, Carter and the others.
“Others?” Now Paxia was as intrigued as she was shocked by the revelation of Phaidors existence. It explained so much of the Thern resurgence. But other Jasoomians on Barsoom?
“Few, to be sure, but Thavas tracked them down. I assisted him. I had my own designs. Eventually, he found what I wanted.” Phaiador paused, almost as if she expected Paxia to grasp the meaning immediately. And indeed the enormity of the truth struck Paxia even before the words were pronounced. “This body.” At that, Phaiador leapt. An outstanding leap. An un-martian leap to a platform above. She laughed and jumped again. Half-way across the cavern! To a platform, onto machinery, and on.
“Ras Thavas’ stronghold is in ruin,” Paxia shouted to her. “What happened here?”
Phaiador tilted her head and paused, knowingly. “I am now truly the High Priestess of Issus! She paused again. “The Mastermind of Mars overreached himself. He believed knowledge could be held in chains. His chains. His power. I removed those chains. And I took the power.”
Paxia had almost forgotten about the creatures. It was clear now what they were, although she had only heard the stories. Synthetic men. Kael had not forgotten. One shifted subtly—its smallest motion enough to draw Kael’s attention.
Phaiador smiled.
“And now, Paxia of Helium, I’ll pose you a test…”
The blade was in her hand before Paxia saw her draw it, and she was in the air before Paxia knew what was happening.
The leading creature lunged toward Paxia but she had moved a moment earlier.
Kael however acted the instantly.
His rapier blurred and the creatures, acolytes of the Priestesss, who had been encroaching stealthily backed off as that first fell. “No, she is mine!” cried Phaiador as she landed, graceful and powerful as a banth before Paxia, slashing at her. Paxia drew both swords in a single fluid motion as the chamber erupted into chaos. Instinct honed by training with the Warlord of Mars himself drove her to respond without thought. But, the impact of the blade on hers, when it came, was terrible. Stunned, Paxia staggered back. Phaiador’s strength was immense. “This body was a warrior on Jassoom too. Something known as a Viking. I like the sound of that name. High Priestess Phiador, Viking Queen of Mars!” She bounded forward again, madness in her eyes. Paxia sprang aside, gasping at the speed of Phaiador’s attack. She felt the blade scythe past her cheek.
Kael charged into the midst of the followers wielding his sword in a flashing arc, slicing the nearest creature deeply as he stepped to guard Phaiadors flank.
The remaining bodyguards advanced recklessly, also shifting to shield Phaiador. Now, as fast as she had been the aggressor, she withdrew with a bound toward a descending corridor which appeared even older than the rest of the stronghold.
And now Paxia noticed the creatures stirring in the side passages—shadows with too many limbs, the half‑made and the newly awakened drawn by sound and movement. They did not attack; they followed Phaiadors direction like congregants following a priest. More synthetic monsters. Like gruesome dolls thrown haphazardly together with no account for form, function or proportion.
Phaiador, leaping back among them paused at the threshold of the deeper passages of the labyrinth.
“You were brought here for a purpose, Paxia,” she cried. “Helium and her allies believe in destiny. Let us see how much of that belief survives what is coming.”
Her eyes glinted—not with madness this time but with terrible clarity.
“You will follow. You must. The Labyrinth beckons.”
Then she vanished into the ancient dark as Paxia and Kael ran toward her and the followers. “What of Ras Thavas?” Paxia shouted after her. Phaiadors voice could just be made out, “He awaits you…”
And the corridor sealed itself with a double rumble of some carefully planted explosives, narrowly missing Paxia and Kael, cutting off immediate pursuit.
Kael exhaled slowly. “Something has driven her from sanity. Could it be the synthetic flesh? Is that why those creatures did her bidding?”
Paxia sheathed one sword, keeping the other ready. “The synthetic flesh, the trauma of her injury. Her hatred of the red race… But she wants us alive. She wants us down here. Or down there. Otherwise she would have continued her assault.” She paused, “I could barely hold her off for all my training.”
Kael nodded. “You did well, whatever you think Paxia. That was no ordinary test of your skills and you know it.” “What did she mean, the Labyrinths beckon?”
Paxia stared at the boulders covering the passage Phaiador had taken.
“Because of whatever lies down there,” she whispered, “…she has some foul scheme in mind. That has not been changed by her new body. She is drunk with hatred…and ambition. We must thwart her scheme”
Above them, the marsh mists thickened.
Below them, the old machinery still hummed faintly, as though remembering its original purpose.
We had an Aprils fools clich so let’s post this one again!
It’s Work in Progress Wednesday time and we start with mark J who has returned to painting more WW2 German infanty.
Next up and Marcus W has been busy painting some additions for the current society show game The Labyrinths of Mars for the upcoming Salute wargames show.
Jumping back to WW2 and Chris St has painted up more german armour and other vehicles.
As for me, it’s slow progress by still progress on my robot army, they’ve now have a silver dry brush and contrast colour.
I have some bigger robots from an unreleased range, where I’ve taken the arms off and added an assortment of guns.
It’s Wednesday and we start this week with Mark J and some progress on his WW2 British infantry. I think there’s still quite a few to go to match the number of German infantry already completed.
Moving on and I’ve finished the sci-fi base in a crater terrain piece I was making.
As I was in a terrain mood I decided to put my loose rubble pieces made from unwanted plasterboard, together on a base and add flock and plants to make it look like a post apocalyptic or long abandoned ruin. I have another 5 of these to finish up.
Next up and although not strickly for wargaming Stephen had a space on the shelf so decided to build and paint the Revell Millennium Falcon ship.
And last but not least, but buried at the bottom of this post (sorry) we have Tony F who has painted some grave stones from Debris of War.
And with that we will see you next week with some more wargaming visual delights.
Welcome to another Work in Progress Wednesday post, we start this week with Chris St and some 20mm German armoured cars, not sure if this was on a whim or part of a larger force. Wil definitely be in good company with the amount of 20mm WW2 miniatures owned by the members.
Sticking with the WW2 theme and Mark J has done some more work on his German Flak38.
And some progress on his WW2 British infantry.
Progressing to a more modern era and Stephen has some vehicles to add to his Vietnam collection, this time a PBR, M48 and M577. The only vehicles I’ve seen in games are planes or choppers so will be interested if he is planning a game with more armour.
And lastly this week, a quick trip into Sci-Fi, where I’ve finished painting my scratch built Technoliths (copyright Mr Wheeler).
Tony F runs us through a Stargrave scenario set on Planet Earth (before the demolition…).
At Maidstone we have a largish group of Stargrave players with games run regularly. We all keep track of the progress of our captains and crews (although there have been casualties along the way) in a series of unrelated scenarios that we take turns to organise. Almost all are run by an umpire who sits out the game and ensures that things run smoothly. I’m a massive fan of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy – I mean, who isn’t? – and I’ve been trying to shoehorn a Stargrave scenario into the H2G2 universe. Last autumn, I finally managed it (and it’s taken almost six months to write it all up !)…
I set things right at the start of the original book, with Arthur Dent’s house about to be demolished. I didn’t directly tell the four players that the scenario was a Hitchhiker’s one although they all twigged it from their sparse briefing notes. Two of them were tasked with ensuring that the house was efficiently pulled down, while the other two were to try and stop the destruction. But they didn’t know that there were two different sets of briefings, nor did they know that they had a potential ally, which led to some interesting results later on.
Arthur’s House, surrounded by bulldozers ready to roll.
I went rather over the top with the scenery, making Arthur’s house from a Charlie Foxtrot MDF kit and giving it a detailed garden. A borrowed Forge World fantasy inn stood in as the Red Lion pub while Sarissa Precision provided Cottington Cricket Club’s pavilion. Details such as the telephone box and bus stop were from Blotz while Debris of War were the source of bits such as the rubbish bins and bags, portaloos, traffic cones, sofa etc. I scratchbuilt details such as the hedges and fences, telegraph poles, road signs and the pond, while the post box and benches were 3D prints of models I created myself. The narrow Sussex country lanes were Early War Miniatures latex offerings. I raided my 28mm Lord of the Rings scenery for beer barrels for the pub and a high hedge round the cricket pitch, which was last seen as the defensive hedge around Bree ! I really went to town with the details (far more than was strictly necessary) but I had a lot of fun putting it all together.
Arthur’s house from the west showing the bypass roadworks.
Cottington Cricket Club pavilion
The Red Lion pub with phone box and war memorial.
The six JCBs were cheap plastic toys from eBay – I hadn’t wanted to spend a fortune on expensive die cast ones for a one-off game. I weathered them a bit, varnished them to take away the cheap plastic shine and I think they looked fine on the table. The idea was that the two demolition-tasked players could jump in them to knock the house down, but I made them difficult for the players to control on account of their weird rear wheel steering which a character used to grav sleds wouldn’t be used to.
Closup of one of the cheap plastic JCB toys, given a bit of a paint job and pressed into service.
I had fun coming up with a long list of creatures for the random encounter table. The list had 20 different possible encounters which were triggered if a player rolled four or less on their initiative roll each turn. I arranged them in increasing order of deadliness, and rolled 1d10 plus the turn number for them which meant that the players would start off with some fairly tame and easy to tackle encounters, ramping up to more difficult ones later in the game. Since Arthur lives in a fairly rural area, Warlord Games’ farmyard animals set populated the bottom half of the table, ranging from a few chickens pecking at the players’ feet up to some cows and a 3D printed bull sourced from Etsy.
The rest of the encounter table was more interesting to put together. A bunch of drunken thugs would pour forth from the Red Lion, upset at the noise and gunfire disturbing their lunchtime drinking session – these came from Killer B. Several British bobbies with truncheons from Crooked Dice would also be investigating the noise, escalating to the Sweeney (also Killer B) in a die cast police car. A simple scratchbuilt bowl of petunias (wooden bead with a flower tuft on top) and a Sperm Whale (eBay) were primed to drop out of the sky on an unlucky captain’s head. Shotgun-armed Farmer Maggert (Killer B) and his three Rottweiler dogs Grip, Wolf and Fang (Brigade Models) would get very protective over his cabbages. There were several bases of tiny red Vl’Hurg and green G’Gugvunt spaceships (Brigade again), confused about their scale but with enough firepower to give someone a nasty flesh wound. Arthur and Ford (Denizen) could well chase a Chesterfield sofa (Debris of War) across the fields, and at the top of the list was Thor, an oversized 3D print from Etsy. And I must not forget Wowbagger the Infinitely Prolonged, a Crooked Dice figure, and his 1960s toy spaceship which I picked up for a pound at a boot fair. If he managed to land a carefully crafted insult then it could cost a Captain a few Will points.
Sadly, after all that effort, the players (with the honourable exception of Captain Gloria/Charlotte) steadfastly refused to roll many low initiative scores, especially in the second half of the game, so many of my favourite characters didn’t appear. But fear not, I have ideas for more H2G2 universe scenarios, so they’ll be back.
I think the game ran pretty well, initially most of the players spent time hoovering up the loot tokens. But then Captain Gloria jumped in one of the JCBs and they all twigged what was going on. In hindsight perhaps I should have hinted a bit more about what they were supposed to do to achieve the main objective, but I think fun was had by all which after all is what we do this for. I particularly enjoyed Charlotte’s skirmishes with the local farm animals, she seemed particularly unlucky with them, not helped by a few freakishly good die rolls against her by the umpire.
Another overview, this time from the Eastern end.
My home-made order tracker made from a few clothes pegs and a length of dowel. Keeps track of the order that players move in during the turn.
Arthur and Ford exit the Red Lion (Denizen Miniatures).
Anyway, I’ll hand you over to the four Captains for their after-action reports.
Captain Gloria (The Rhythm)
The view from Captain Gloria’s end of the table, with one of Farmer Maggert’s barns in the foreground.
COMMENCE ENTRY
The Rhythm has kept a low profile since the last altercation at the Stairway to Heaven nine months ago, but funds were running low and I was longing to be back in familiar territory. When a job came through asking us to save fellow earthling Arthur Dent’s house from demolition, I practically broke the keyboard to accept it. It should have been a case of heading to Earth, getting in, having a word with the tío in charge (el señor Prosser) and getting out.
Díos mío. What should have been a straightforward job became anything but that. Upon landing, demolition seemed at its starting point, with JCBs surrounding the dwelling. We had to move fast and, as we did, it became clear that three other gangs had also received intel about the Dent house. I was not sure of their respective motivation, so I gave the order to make our way to the house, where I was sure either the inhabitant or the demolition tío would be, before the situation could escalate. This was encumbered by my smashed jaw and Estefan’s injured leg, which restricted his movement, and the native animals that kept attacking us. Before any of the crew had reached the house, Black had already been killed by a cow (milk-bearer), which was promptly executed.
More trouble with the local fauna – this time it’s the charge of the sheep brigade.
While Estefan and many of my crew were engaged with more dwellers of the farm where we had landed – several sheep, a farmer, and his dogs – I pressed on towards the house with Bluey and Red behind me. Across the road, it seemed that two gangs – Roj Blake’s men and The Dirty Rats – were muy ocupado fighting each other, so we only needed to exchange a few rounds of fire from the crew of the Monsoon and Roj Blake’s men. Once it became clear that Wilson of the Monsoon had the same goal of saving the house, we turned our attention to taking out el señor Prosser, Blake’s men and the crew of The Dirty Rat. In a moment of gross misjudgement, I started one of the JCBs, hoping to drive it past the house and into Blake or one of his cronies. Having been some time since I drove an Earthmade machine, I ran over Red and ploughed into the back of the very house we were trying to save. Miraculously, the house remained intact and lost only some plaster and a window, and Red managed to dive out of the way in time. In this time, Wilson’s men had managed to dispatch el señor Prosser and The Dirty Rat appeared to have suffered many casualties.
Damn’ sheep !
I ordered those men who were not still engaged with the farmer and his vicious menagerie to try and finish off Blake’s crew, who were by now on the retreat. We left the scene with some loot, having lost only Black and White (que descansen en paz), and having brought Bluey back to make a full recovery, and we returned to the ship with 200cr having been transferred to the ship’s account. I can only assume our client shared the same job with the Monsoon and split our pay. Qué cara tiene.
Captain Gloria leaps into one of the JCB’s and gets demolishing !
The status of Arthur Dent remains unknown to us. Communications picked up by The Rhythm suggest he may have been in the pub. I only hope he is pleased that his house remains standing and that he doesn’t send us the bill for the repairs. We press on to the nearest inhabited outpost to recruit two new crewmen; but for tonight, we’re gonna party until we see the break of day. With this in mind, Rhythm: play ‘Conga’.
Two of the Rhythm’s crew advance.
CONTACT – attacked by a cow…
Farmer Maggert and his dogs appear, dangerously near to the Rhythm’s crew
ENTRY ENDS.
Captain Kersh Wilson (The Monsoon)
‘The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing,’ said Captain Kersh Wilson to his first mate, a giant shaggy biomorph called Shoggoth.
Shoggoth grunted in response.
‘Get the crew ready,’ instructed Kersh. ‘Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral Arm of the galaxy there are reports that several planets are to be destroyed to make way for an intergalactic bypass. And no one has told the inhabitants or cares about what happens to them.
We have to stop this.’
Shoggoth looked at Kersh deeply. There were many things that confused him about this human, but his kind demeanour and generosity is what had drawn him to serve this gentle and philosophical mystic.
Kersh and his crew landed on the blue and white, industrial, planet with the intent of stopping its destruction. They had discovered that it was being led by a sinister individual calling itself Planning Officer Prosser – such tyrants always give themselves grandiose titles. His elimination was essential to stopping this wanton act of violence.
Kersh and his crew approached a small house across a field of wheat. They could see large yellow machines getting ready to demolish the building. The crew’s pathfinder, Aidan Kenver, could see a large packing crate so he made a dash for it, wondering if it might have data about what was happening – the crew had secured a data loot token.
Kersh and the rest of the crew diverted around the back of the building because they’d seen more equipment stashed there and began to wonder the same as Aidan. Mallia Bygrove, an ex-army sniper, took up position at the corner of a hedge to cover Kersh and the crew in case anyone tried to come around behind (as they came into orbit they picked up the warpdrive signals of three other vessels, presumably trying to selfishly loot the planet before its destruction).
They saw movement! They recognised an individual who they knew to be a member of Captain Gloria’s crew.
‘Stay over there and come no nearer and we shall let you go in peace,’ called Kersh.
They heard no answer.
But an answer soon came because this same individual entered the wheat field and opened fire at Kersh and his men! Fire was soon returned.
Wowbagger the Infinitely Prolonged attempts to serve Captain Wilson with his pre-determined insult (they shot him – doubtless he’ll be back).
Things got busier, because Mallia saw a couple of suspicious looking types beside an older, wooden, building with a sign outside that said ‘The Red Lion’, so to keep them at bay he gave them a warning shot.
More shooting could now be heard. Not only shooting, but the lowing and mooing of large bovine creatures. A robot came into view, a droid that Kersh had seen before amongst the crew of Captain Roj. This robot raised its gun and the sensors on Kersh’s Threat Detector sensed it locking on. But the robot’s aim soon passed and found a different target elsewhere. Nonetheless, the robot’s intentions had been made all too clear and there was no knowing whether it may or may not come back and take a shot. So Kersh called out to Yammet, a rapid-fire gunner, to take his weapon and destroy captain Roj’s robot. Yammet swung around and let out a terrible burst of fire and the robot crumpled into a mess of wires and burnt steel.
‘Captain,’ said crewman Rannock Crowder, ‘aren’t we getting distracted? Aren’t we here to stop Planning Officer Prosser?’
Rannock was right, and Kersh knew it. He drew out his lightsabre void blade and made for the target of their intentions, leaving troopers Zanford Schneider and Brynan Jones to keep up the fight with Captain Gloria’s crew.
The Monsoon’s crew approach from the rear of the house.
Meanwhile, the fracas between Mallia and this other mystery crew had escalated. More deadly fire was being exchanged. Kersh’s droid, 2B-55, had joined in as well. The enemy crew were getting fewer in number, so that was a promising start. However, someone had hot-wired a pair of the large yellow machines surrounding the house, so Kersh, Shoggoth, and 2B-55 had to be careful.
There was Prosser! With his back to Kersh, the wicked Planning Officer was surveying his work, cackling cruelly at all the mayhem and destruction. Kersh was tempted to just strike him down, but his training had instilled in him an honourable code, and so he declared himself to Prosser. This code of honour was not shared by the Planning Officer who promptly swung around and struck Kersh with his briefcase before running off. Just a temporary setback as Kersh recovered and, braving the fire from the guns of the other hostile crew, Kersh pursued the Planning Officer before cornering him and striking him down with his lightsabre. Sorry, his void blade.
There was still a lot of upheaval to deal with. Kersh could see he’d been wrong about Captain Gloria and her crew who, like him, were out to protect this primitive planet. It was obvious that Captain Roj and this fourth crew he’d never encountered before had other plans. Mallia Bygrove made his way up, ducking behind some bins and boxes, before taking aim with his sniper rifle to shoot the drivers of the yellow death machines. He could see crew members of Captain Roj behind a hedge who took shots at Bygrove, but they missed their mark.
Realising they were bettered, Captain Roj and his crew soon slunk off like the dirty wamp-rats they were. Whoever this other crew had been was now irrelevant because they’d all been overcome and were nowhere to be seen.
Kersh made for 2B-55, who had received considerable damage, to make sure his droid was still fit to move. The droid was in bad shape, but still operable. Time to head back to their ship, though Kersh.
‘Back to the ship. Back to The Monsoon,’ he called and he and his crew made off, satisfied they’d stopped Planning Officer Prosser.
Captain Black Rat (The Dirty Rat)
It became apparent right from the off that it just wasn’t going to be my day. As I pulled my crew proudly from their storage foam, I soon realised one was absent. Where was Ratchet the Robot? Ratchet is bigger than the average figure. It has protection is akin to power armour. But he wasn’t there. I borrowed a robot from Tony, but then I found I had this old sculpt, at least fairly heavily armed, in the box. Then I realised I didn’t have my “powers cards” either. They are copied from the rule book and stuck to card. They are a handy aide memoire. I missed them.
The missing robot and cards. Alas, poor Marcus.
My crew deployed from behind a pub. We might as well have gone in and had a few drinks. The approach might have been better if we did. I split my team, then got confused about who needed to be with what to benefit from the synergy of my powers. Then, “Oh look, I can see a robot approaching.” One of the J10 (Jeremy’s Blake’s 7 analogues, not a stellar equivalent of J2O from the aforementioned pub.) Time to use the “Control Robot” power. This failed (naturally), drawing withering fire from Jeremy. His approach had been more direct too, so he ended up grabbing more loot on this side of the table. Sadly, it took us some time to get over this spat and realise we were on the same side (as much as anyone can be in Stargrave!).
The crew of the Dirty Rat deploy in the car park of the Red Lion.
My mission stated that I really needed to find Prosser and get the keys. As Steve and Charlotte had their own little spat over who’s side was who’s, Steve also sent some forces toward the cottage.
Prosser randomly moved towards Steve and got into trouble. “We are on your side you bureaucratic twit!”. Both groups from the Dirty Rat were taking fire and I could not roll a defence die for a Syrtis Major toffee and peanut asteroid bar. While the Orange kid did make off with some loot, Captain Black Rat went out of action, swiftly followed by Harriet Barber (who strangely enough, might have felt at home in a B7 analogue crew…) and others too numerous to mention. No-one had a great day. Did I say no-one?
My hacker 01-V2 jumped onto a digger, hacked it and started driving for the cottage. Meanwhile one of the crew managed to grab the cottage keys from the flailing Prosser’s dying fingers and made for the door. The diggers were far from easy to control, as Charlotte had found earlier. The little droid tried to drive the digger into the cottage. Surely it must go down! No. Another try? No..and he got shot. Ratchet 2 jumped onto another digger, and was similarly challenged in the driving department. Nevertheless, we got inside to discover… that despite all that effort, the keys were keys to the hotwired diggers not the cottage. That summed it up for the game really’ as Ratchet 2 also went down, like the rest of the crew under a hail of critical hits that not even someone who can calculate their defence rolls properly could have survived. Fortunately, a number of end game rolls later I could lick just one wound and everyone lived…for another day.
Fortunately these two made it off and made it to the site.
JCBs in the garden of the house – Arthur’s car has taken a bashing.
Captain Roj Blake (unnamed starship)
The power armour check was passed, everything was loaded and the crew were ready to roll. The first surprise of the mission was that we landed in a green and pleasant land. There were green fields, trees and in the
distance a not particularly nice looking house. The mission brief was to find a Mr Prosser.
But my immediate problem was there were other crews present and mine was out in the open, so orders were given to get a move on and head towards the house. Making it to the other side of a large hedge, half the crew
were presented with a strange view. Charlotte’s crew was locked in battle with various creatures. This battle was to play out for a while, involving chickens, pigs, cows and dogs. So the crew took up position resting against a fence and taking in the show.
Blake’s crew approach the high hedge.
Meanwhile, the rest of the crew continued towards the house, only to be rudely attacked by Marcus’ crew trying to take control of robot Zen. Despite this attempt at control failing, the outrage was met in a suitable way with several hot projectiles. I’m pleased to report several hit and opened the score (appropriate given the target was next to the cricket pavilion).
Some of the Captain Blake’s crew cross the road from the cricket pitch.
However it soon became clear that the positions of the other crews meant getting to Mr Prosser was going to be impossible. Stephen’s crew were already approaching Mr Prosser while also exchanging fire with Marcus’ crew. And Charlotte’s crew had decided that despite losing to the local wildlife they would also fire on my crew by the fence. Marcus had also continued to poke round the pavilion providing a steady supply of target practice.
At this point there was a sudden change in the game. One of Marcus’ crew managed to get in one of the yellow diggers surrounding the house and was trying to get it to demolish the house. Charlotte’s crew had also prevailed against the livestock and managed to wound one of my crew. So I switched track and several crew made a dash with their loot while the remaining crew made for the diggers. And boy were those diggers hard to control. I never got close to the house and in the time I spent trying both Stephen’s and Charlottes crews were advancing on the house and I was taking fire. But you cannot say my crew wasn’t adaptable. It was time to grab the loot and make a run for it. Unfortunately one of my crew Jenna Stannis was shot in the back by Charlotte as they were retreating, and that’s where we left the other crews to it. It was a good day for loot but a bad day for the crew as, despite having an advanced medical suite on the ship, Jenna didn’t make it.
On the outskirts of Cottington – they don’t look like locals.
We start this week with Stephen and his now complete early medieval castle. We can see some Norman lord has already moved in.
We stay with Stephen and something that Norman Lord would probably have appreciated. Two porta loos and a tent. I can see the porta loos turning up as an objective in a game!
Moving on and Mark J has started work on a WW2 German Flak38
I’ve also been busy finishing off the 3mm sci-fi buildings I got from Brigade Models. I’ve created two small settlements with the desert buildings.
And little groupings of the colony buildings, with a rare splash of colour from me.
And last but by no means least this week Tony F has painted up a Gothic Crypt from Debris of War.
It’s already March, where is the time going. I’ll start this weeks Work in Progress. I’ve managed to paint the first layer of my Robot Legions army made up of various robot miniatures.
To go with those I’ve also started on some sci-fi scenery. This are made from off cuts of MDF stuck together to make futuristic standing stones.
Moving on and Andy has been painting up his Sneakfeet and Einherjar miniatures.
And he has painted up the fencing we saw last week.
Chris St has continued on his spectacular French from the War of the Spanish Succession.
And lastly for this week Mark J has continued with his British infantry, he’s probably feeling relieved to have moved onto another colour uniform.
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