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 Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!

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zelophahad
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PostSubject: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Sat 5 Jul 2008 - 6:04

We've finally made our scenery and 'play-tested' it (see Admin Tom's trip to Manchester in his blog) and are at last starting our Flame On 'Luncheim' campain. So I thought I'd cross-post our battle reports and fluff from Flame On...

The campaign is set in the ruined city of Vercuso in Sartosa where the warbands are gathering to collect fragments of the Bloodfane...
WarbossKurgan wrote:
Background

Things are not all free-wheeling, swashbuckling fun on Sartosa anymore: The Island and its piratical inhabitants have suffered greatly over the last few years; invasion, war, plague and a ghastly shortage of rum have all combined to make the place a less than welcoming safe-haven for the pirates. Many have fled the island for less troubled waters and the many small islands around the coast of the Southern Sea, Black Gulf and the Gulf of Sufaga have become make-shift ports for the erstwhile Sartosans.

The Beastlord Nethrag's ascension to Daemonhood hinged on a plan to create a vast storm in the Winds of Magic that created a huge pool of Dark Magic centred on, and trapped around, the Bloodfane; a Herdstone of unprecedented scale. When the Final Rite was performed the Dark Magic was drawn into the Bloodfane in a swirling vortex of immense power, which tore a temporary rift in reality and wove the very fabric of the Warp into the soul of the Beastlord, turning him into a Daemon Prince and "using up" the Dark Magic that was blighting the island.

This had the unexpected result of actually purifying the corruption that was blighting the Pirate Kingdom and removing the worst of the after-effect cause by the occupation by Davy Jones' Crew. There are still many fragments of "crystallised" wyrdstone scattered over Sartosa – fragments of the exploded Bloodfane, which shattered at the conclusion of the Final Rite.
The waters surrounding Sartosa were not so lucky though – beyond the coasts they are still steeped in Dark Magic that was beyond the reach of the Bloodfane, and the effect on the local sea-life has been dramatic and unpleasant.

In the east Vercuso has become cut off from the mainland by the sea. The town is deserted and can only be reached by boat but the newly-formed channels are uncharted and too dangerous for large ships. Vercuso's old harbour is however still accessible except that it's now guarded by a large and predatory sea monster which means that large ships can occasionally make passage, but not a full army. The forces of darkness used the town as the base for their work on Dragon Tooth Island for much of the first invasion, so very few of the buildings are still standing since most were stripped for timber to repair their shipping and a great number where damaged by falling fragments of Bloodfane.


Players so far:

Zelophahad (Phil) - Ye Merrie Men of Chalons (Stirwood bandits)
Warboss Kurgan (Saul) - Kap'n Hadduk's Halibuteers (orcs)
Captain Jackson (John) - Gallant Geraint's Quest (Bretonnians)
Sizzling Gromril (Andy) - Ludwig Kopf's Righteous Templars (Witch Hunters)


Last edited by zelophahad on Tue 15 Jul 2008 - 5:20; edited 3 times in total
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Sat 5 Jul 2008 - 6:05

zelophahad wrote:
In the silent darkness, the end of the knotted rope made a faint splash as it hit the water. One by one green-clad figures clambered over the gunwales of the vast Bretonnian ship Le Sanglier, each man with a mighty longbow and quiver full of arrows strapped to his back. They expertly shimmied down the rope and slipped into the water before swimming silently towards the looming ruins of Vercuso harbour.

Two of the figures were much larger than the other men – one in height, the other in girth. The towering form of Jean Le Petit snarled at his rotund companion, “Tuc, give me that barrel! You’ll wake the guards!”

Le Moine Tuc grinned at him. “Oh my friend, they’ll be sleeping long and dreaming well for many hours yet – those poor navy lads never get a chance to become accustomed to brandy like that!” Nonetheless, Tuc handed the barrel to Jean and lowered himself gracelessly into the water with a plop.

“What’s keeping the boss?” growled Jean. He looked up from the water to see not one but two figures appear silhouetted against the pale moonlight. “Oh no, don’t tell me she’s coming too,” he rumbled to himself. A man and a woman were conversing in frantic passionate whispers above them.

“Ah, true love,” sighed Tuc, bobbing in the water like an apple, “Surely even a brute like you can appreciate the romance in it? A beautiful young woman betrothed to a foppish knight but secretly in love with the handsome bandit…”

“Mademoiselle Marianne is a looker, I’ll give you that,” admitted Jean, “but we’re supposed to be here for loot, not romance. I didn’t risk my neck smuggling myself to Sartosa just so Robin Le Capot could go a-smooching. And now it looks like she’s coming with us – what use will she be in a fight, seriously?”

“Oh, don’t be such a misery. I’m sure she’ll do the band’s morale the world of good – ”

“And another thing,” interrupted Jean, “once Sir Geraint discovers his fiancée’s run off with Le Capot, the pompous idiot’s going to be coming after us like a chivalrous but angry, love-sick puppy! Don’t forget there’s a price on our heads already.”

“Why can’t you just be pleased for them?” sighed Tuc. “Ah, here they come!”

Robin of Chalons, more commonly known as the outlaw ‘Le Capot’ dived headlong from Le Sanglier’s gunwales with his characteristic flamboyance and disregard for personal safety. Mademoiselle Marianne meanwhile descended towards the water like an angel from heaven, her gown billowing in the breeze. She floated onto the water where Jean caught her to pull her to shore. As she looked up at him, her eyes, wet with tears, caught the moonlight and she smiled coyly.

Jean’s heart melted instantly as he understood exactly what Tuc had meant about her boosting morale.


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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Sat 5 Jul 2008 - 6:06

Captain Jackson wrote:
Jean-Pierre looked down carefully as he saw the brigand dive into the water. ‘Careful, now, lads,’ he breathed to the two archers in the shadows with him. Then another figure spoke from behind. His voice was low, but carried an unmistakable authority:

‘No, Jean-Pierre, not this time. There is a lady down there. Let them go. I am sure we will meet them on the field of honour before the month is out’.

There was a gentle clank as the armoured knight moved to the rail and watched the brigands swimming with gusto towards the shore. Jean-Pierre shook his hear as he signalled the bow-men to stand down. ‘Just like his father,’ he thought.

His mind turned back to that terrible day. It had been near three months since, yet he could still smell the fire as the manor thatch had burned. It was one thing to be assailed by a noble enemy or even brigands, but when a neighbouring lord sends men at night. He could smiled as he remembered Sir Gusteau’s calmness as he pulled on his armour. His horse standing quietly as the house burned around them. Then he rode out – magnificent against the flames in his polished harness. The scum hadn’t known what hit them, but there were too many, far too many…

And then running. Jean-Pierre spat overboard. His Lord had ordered him to take the women to safety – Mademoiselle Marianne, waiting for Geraint to come back form the wars. And Mademoiselle Jocelyn, staying with the family to keep her away from the court and the fops there – her father terrified she might not marry a fighting knight.

They had fled through the night, two archers, two women and the Warden of Chateaux Blancaford. It was below his honour to run, but Jean-Pierre had pledged obedience to his lord. He had thought they were done for in the dawn as the pursuit drew close – cornered against a cliff with over a dozen of them, and as Jean-Pierre had shouted the ancient war-cry, he realised he was not alone. ‘Notre Dame de Bataile’ had echoed through the trees as Geraint’s charger crashed into them. Jean-Pierre chuckled to remember their faces – Geraint left his lance in the first of ‘em and took two more with his blade before the others fled and he chased them – obviously not striking from behind!

And here there were in Sartosa. Geraint had not liked his father’s orders to take the women to safety and come back with an army rather than march to challenge the dishonourable Lord. But he had accepted it. The wars had changed him, Jean-Pierre mused. He was as courteous, the honour was still there, but there was a steel, a lack of regard for fine clothes, he laughed. Marianne had certainly cooled – she had always like the idea of romance. But Jocelyn – well, they would see. But now there was a horse to unload, armour to clean and squires to wake up with a bucket of water. And prayer to be said – Jean-Pierre was all for honour and a blade, but he had seen what concentrated archery could do to a cavalry charge. But Sir Geraint would certainly press home…
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Sat 5 Jul 2008 - 6:07



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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Sat 5 Jul 2008 - 6:52

"YOU CAN"T STOP MEN WHO WANT TO BE FREE!" Suspect

What a cool story line; this is going to be EXCELLENT! thumbsup
AND Lunchheim lol! !
Oh, nice minis BTW.
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Sat 5 Jul 2008 - 8:14

nice! and some nice mini's Very Happy
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Sat 5 Jul 2008 - 16:02

Awesome!
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Mon 7 Jul 2008 - 2:49

Sizzling Gromril wrote:
A geyser of blood speared upwards as the madman’s teeth buried themselves in the merchant’s jugular. The twitching corpse slumped down into the mudded streets as Waldorf Kleev dove for his next victim - an elderly man in a burgomaster’s garb. The fright on his powdered face made his killer smile, and the crack of his neck made him howl in triumph.

Screams rose from a distant alley as more bodies were discovered. Waldorf Kleev’s butchery had sent all but the bravest away from this place, and now the bravest hunted him; tracked him; craved the rending of his flesh just as much as he craved theirs.

The slaughterer bared his teeth at the bloated moon, and then at the figures charging from the midnight’s darkness. They were heretics one and all. Sigmar’s work was likely to go on through the night.

* * *

The Lector-General did not move as he spoke. His wizened face was wreathed in shadow, and his wasted skull hidden by a pitch black hood.

“This man Kleev, he was one of our own, one of Sigmar’s children. But he is mad, now”.

“And what is my purpose in this, your grace?” asked the man who kneeled at the centre of the freezing chamber.

“Three weeks ago he escaped from Arkheim Asylum. We had banished him there because he was a loyal servant. Zealous, but dutiful. We thought he could be...”. The priest sighed heavily. “Salvaged”.

“At first his insanity empowered him to hunt the enemies of righteousness with a holy vigour, but it was not long before he was turning on criminals, the destitute and the homeless – anybody he considered lacking of faith. And then he wrought his murderous ways upon the innocent. He must be brought to retribution for his crimes. And that is where you come in, Herr Moriarty”.

“You want him brought back here, to answer for his heinous ways?”

“No”, the old man breathed. “He is too far gone now. He must be killed”.

Domingo Moriarty stifled a grin. This was his time to shine. Promotion loomed. This Waldorf Kleev would beg for death, and he would receive it.

“Just tell me where, your grace, and his blood shall stain my sword”.

The priest leaned forward, his throne creaking.

“Sartosa, Isle of the Cutthroat Kings”.
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Mon 7 Jul 2008 - 3:23

GREAT STUFF:Adventure, Romance, Swash Buckling on the High [Oh Wow, Man] Seas, AND now Horror replete with raving, homicidal, Psychopath, VERY COOL!thumbsup

You guys are probably easy to spot in a crowd: emaciated, growling stomachs, & paint stained fingers. "What greater love hath any Mordheimer than to give up his lunch for The Game?"Suspect
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Mon 7 Jul 2008 - 7:23

Robbing Gitz in Da 'Oodz

In the last curling tendrils of the evaporating morning mists the Fishmen advanced through the ruins of the harbour district, hugging the walls and trying to keep out of sight. A Bretonnian vessel had been sighted from their watch-post, just beyond the harbour walls; the Goblin look-outs had also reported seeing something that could be fragments of Bloodfane-stone in the pre-dawn gloom so there was some urgency in getting to the docks before the chumbuckets.













Kap'n Hadduk growled at the warband for getting too closed-up. He ordered Murlok, Makrul, Spratt and Marlin to head towards the warehouse, Kod and Pike to the Revenue house and took Dagon the Troll and the rest of the Boyz with him round the Cultist's house towards the walled garden.



From high in the broken roof of the Cod and Cutlass a volley of arrows rained down on the Fishman. Murlok took a frighteningly accurate long-ranged hit to the body and crumpled silently in a mess of tentacles. By contrast Spratt squealed like a stuck pig and rolled around on the ground clawing madly at the arrow that pierced his foot. He carried on squawking for the next hour! Makrul ducked into the warehouse and found a shard of Bloodfane amongst a scattered pile of rotting papers.









Hadduk glanced round the corner of the Cultist's house and tried to make out who was shooting at them. All he could make out were a couple of green-clothed figures crouching between the shattered rafters.





Kod and Pike ran into the walled yard of the Revenue house and grabbed the shard there then dodged out of the gate and fell back, away from the quay side.

Racing across the open ground between the Cultist's house and the walled garden Hadduk used Dagon as a shield from the hail of arrows but one slipped passed the brute and embedded itself deep into his chest. He stumbled and fell on his face in the dirt and struggled to draw a breath that sounded unpleasantly like water going down a drain. Without the Kap'n's continual cajoling Dagon stopped running forward and ambled through the barren garden. Hake looked out from his hiding place and saw a piece of the Bloodfane lying in the midst of tangled tree roots. He leapt out of his hiding place, scooped up the stone and dived back into the shadow of the broken wall, with arrows thudding into the ground around his feet!











In the ally next to the Cod and Cutlass two green-clad figures appeared – in an effort to outflank the Halibuteers and force them out of cover the bowmen rushed forward firing rapid but barely-aimed volleys of arrows – Hake was unlucky enough not to notice them circle behind him and them shot him in the back. The stone fell from his hand and clattered across the cobbles.





Marlin got impatient at the sneaking around and as Hake fell he rushed in the direction of the advancing bowmen – roaring a challenge as he went. The archers knew that they were no match for a charging Orc in a fight so they dropped to one knee and aimed calmly and carefully: Marlin barely made it half way.

Seeing the Shaman and the Boss sprawled on the ground Makrul, who as biggest Big'Un was next in line of command, chose to order the warband to fall back, taking most of their wounds with them.

~ ~ ~

Murlok awoke to the sound of shouting and a bucket of water in his face. The arrow wound was clean and stitched up and he had all his gear but he didn't recognise his surroundings.

Slowly the environment came into focus and he saw he was in a dimly lit circular stone chamber, the top edge of which was ringed with wooden spikes and beyond these a small crowd of jeering pirates' faces. A few yards from him stood a bare-chested muscular man in a red bandanna, holding an empty bucket and a cutlass. The man pointed at him and laughed, which drew howls of derisive laughter from the watchers above.

The Shaman pulled himself shakily to his feet and looked around. Someone in the audience called out.

"Come on greenskin! If you can beat the Bosun you can go free!"

The Fighting Pits! The sudden realisation of where he was hit the Orc and he was furious. The pit fighter in the red bandanna shouted a challenge and twirled his cutlass ostentatiously. Murlok grimaced and raised a hand, palm outwards, towards the fighter. The man took this as a gesture of fear and charged.

Green flames leapt from the Shaman's hand and incinerated the pit fighter in an instant, leaving nothing but a cloud of ash and a cutlass clattering on the stone floor.


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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Mon 7 Jul 2008 - 7:47

uhhh GREAT REPORT ...just a damn shame those spineless arrow pushers didnt get what was coming to them ...atleast your shaman managed to show some BIG bada'bum MAG'IC
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Mon 7 Jul 2008 - 9:15

I've moved this to maintain chronology!

zelophahad wrote:
Le Moine Tuc and Jean Le Petit were sitting either side of a fire in the semi-derelict town house they’d holed-up in. The place reeked of fish and mould but the Merrie Men were in good spirits. They’d each earned some gold today and furthermore they’d been joined by two more of their compatriots from Le Sanglier.

‘You didn’t do badly today, young Will,’ grunted Jean.

‘I’d say picking off the orc shaman at that range within seconds of spotting him warrants a little more praise than that!’ protested Tuc, but Will L'Écarlate just grinned wolfishly and remained silent.

‘You did all right too Father Lard,’ teased Jean, leaning over and tapping Tuc’s newly-acquired helmet, ‘although he was only a little fishman you killed.’

‘Well he was a darn sight bigger than the goblin you so bravely shot!’ laughed the cleric, straightening his helmet which had been pushed over his eyes by the force of Jean’s playful thump.

‘And don’t you be forgetting who took their stinking leader down either, eh?’ gloated the giant, ‘It’s Jean two; Tuc and Will one. …and the boss still to score. Must have had his mind on other things – ’

Suddenly the door slammed downstairs and a moment later Robin’s head appeared at the trapdoor in the floor. He sprung into the room grinning and pulled Marianne up behind him. She was holding a long thin package wrapped in a dirty cloth.

‘Look what Robin’s bought me boys!’ she exclaimed with girlish delight. The wrappings fell off and a sword glinted in the firelight as she swung it around with gay abandon.

‘He’s bought her a sword?!’ whispered Jean as he almost fell off his stool avoiding her careless swing, ‘we’re done for…’

‘What are you muttering about little one?’ laughed Robin, ‘Marianne’s a member of our band now, aren’t you my dear?’

‘Yes,’ she beamed, ‘and Robin says you’re to teach me sword-fighting Jean!’

‘Does he now? Well, I’m not sure that’s proper for a lady – ’ But before he could protest further, Marianne had lunged at him with her new blade. Jean leapt up with his huge staff in his hand and just parried the blade in time. Her stroke was utterly without skill, but there was a force behind it that belied her slender form. Jean was wrong-footed and tumbled backwards onto the floor. The band all roared with laughter.

Jean sat on the floorboards ignominiously. He should be angry at their mockery but one look from Marianne’s huge, green, apologetic eyes and heart melted. Again.


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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Mon 7 Jul 2008 - 11:09

I am loving this. Keep it up.
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Tue 8 Jul 2008 - 4:30

The Flame On Boys Are The BEST!

I loved having Murlok fry the Pit Fighter; VERY CINEMATIC & probably quite painful [serves the uppity creep right well I'd say]. Your Noble [ Suspect ] sacrifice in giving up your lunch to supply us with these reports is truly appreciated! WELL DONE! thumbsup
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Tue 8 Jul 2008 - 5:51

A horse! A horse! My lunchtime for a horse!

The streets were awash with torrential rain that hammered on the fish-head of the Halibuteer's costumes and darkened the skys. Feeling more capable than ever (and with Hadduk out of action for a few days) Murlok took the leadership role in the Halibuteers and guided the reinforced warband back to the docks to see what the Bretonnian ship was up to.



Being the boss wasn't as easy as the Kap'n made it look though – the Fishmen bickered and rowed almost constantly, hurling bad tempered abuse at one another and even trying to attack each other on occasion. Dagon the Troll and Marlin the Stupid had a dribbling competition. There was no chance of this expedition being silent and secret but it seemed to matter little; as soon as they reached the streets bordering the waterfront they could hear shouted orders and the clatter of hooves on cobbles.





A Knight was soon spotted atop his horse (a mangy looking nag, but probably a tasty meal anyway), yelling instructions at his men up in the roof-timbers of the Cultist's house. They seemed to be searching for more pieces of the Bloodfane, though what they wanted them for was a mystery to the Orcs. From their calls the Orcs realised there were three pieces here – one in the attic of Cod and Cutlass, one on the end of the jetty and one in the walled garden.



The warband split into three groups; the right rushed towards the harbour and the solitary old Bretonnian who was hobbling down the jetty; the left towards the Cod and Cutlass and the centre towards the Knight and his retinue.





Arrows were soon zipping past the Halibuteers and with their recent hard-earned experience they kept their heads well down. Finding there were no ladders from the ground floor of the inn he sent a Boy into the pie shop to climb up and over into the inn's roof. Murlok and Makrul clung to the walls and watched the Knight as he cantered through the garden looking at the ground, with impressive skill (they begrudgingly admitted) he scooped up the fragment of Wyrdstone from the ground without slowing his mount in the slightest.



Makrul fired his crossbow but missed by yards. Makrul closed his eyes and grimaced: green fire leapt across the soaking street and slammed into the Knight, knocking him from his mount! The cheers of the Fishmen were short-lived though, as the expert horseman was so on his feet again and in the blink of an eye he was back in the saddle and calming his panicked steed.

Arrows thudded into the fish-suits of Kutfroat and Ray as they ran down towards the jetty and the Knight was about to give chase, but Murlok once again summoned energy from the Great Green and a huge ectoplasmic fist slammed into him. Sparks jumped from the horse's metal shoes as it skidded backwards down the street, whinnying madly. Kutfroat and Ray realised time was pressing and sprinted down the jetty, Kutfroat slammed into the old Bretonnian and knocked him into the water. Ray grabbed the loot they turned back and headed for cover. In the attic of the Cod and Cutlass Hake reached the Wyrdstone fragment and started back down the walkway towards the pie shop.

The sky was torn asunder by a monstrous thunder clap and both warbands withdrew in good order to find cover from the storm.

~ ~ ~
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Tue 8 Jul 2008 - 10:46

Yet another great update full of atmospfere ...both storytellingwise and in the way the pictures are shot
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Tue 8 Jul 2008 - 11:37

Gallant Geraint the Knight Errant
Captain Jackson wrote:
Jean-Pierre could see this was going to be hard, but he tried again. ‘We need to find this dark stone, Sir Geraint. The stuff the men call storm-bane. It fetches a good price and then we will find it easier to raise an army.’

Sir Geraint looked suspicious, ‘Are you suggesting that we will trade, my friend?’

‘Ah…' though Jean-Pierre, 'that’s the problem’. He quickly answered, looking aghast, ‘Of course not, Sir. We need to stop this precious substance falling into the hands of the brigands, or worse. Once we find it I can take it to the duke’s chancellor, and umm, he will see we are amply supplied with coin for food, weapons and men.’

The knight was clearly not stupid, and so the old veteran hurried on as Geraint began to open his mouth, ‘and we must win this substance upon the field of honour. It is close to trade, but Mademoiselle Jocelyn must eat, and we must avenge your noble father and we must carve honour and glory for ourselves in this accursed city. I will deal with the chancellor, Sir, and the bards will sing of our fame!’

And a little while later...

‘Sing,’ thought Jean-Pierre as he grasped the plank at the edge of the water, grimacing. 'I said they would sing our fame'. He had known from the start they were outclassed, and if the orcs ever stopped bickering with each other and decided to fight his men, they were in trouble. The plan had only had the slimmest chance of success anyway, and the orc shamen had put pay to any hope of Geraint reaching him in time. The orcs had the field covered, the two squires were worse than useless for all their boasting and the archer seemed to be missing with great accomplishment too. Geraint had downed the shaman at last, but the cursed mage wasn’t beaten. The orcs would have had the day if they had fought another five minutes.

He mused how the Lady had graciously provided the storm to stop the destruction of her followers, and wondered if the fey Jocelyn had anything to do with it. He saw there was frustration in Geraint’s eyes, though, as the knight hauled him into the saddle and led him away on the horse. ‘We cannot fight on in this,’ he said, ‘I have ordered the withdrawal once I saw the enemy were doing the same. Oh, but such terrible fortune! Did you see, Jean-Pierre – once you fell the others were up aloft, and there must have been ten of the foul beasts to stand against me. What honour to be won with such odds. They fought well, and none of the others would have been quick enough to intervene. I could have fought all ten at once, perchance, and with a lady watching. But perchance the morrow will bring even greater hope for honour and advancement. They had a troll – did you see. Now that would be noble, to fight a troll…’

Geraint went on as Jean-Pierre nursed his injured leg. Next time he would bring more archers… and try to think of a way to support Geraint before he got himself killed.


Last edited by WarbossKurgan on Wed 9 Jul 2008 - 15:20; edited 1 time in total
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Ashton
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Tue 8 Jul 2008 - 14:56

Freaking great work guys! I only just had time to read it all, but it was well worth it. Good luck to those poor pillow-cushion orcs Wink
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Hellfoot
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Tue 8 Jul 2008 - 15:22

I love the whole Rob In Hood theme of the warband Smile and especially love the story and the way you changed their names Smile
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DeafNala
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Wed 9 Jul 2008 - 4:45

"Avast Cap'n; them pale Brets look to be GHOSTS!"

COOL BATTLE REPORT, GREAT PHOTOS! AND is that Slimey Jack I spied by the docks?
WELL DONE as always! thumbsup


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zelophahad
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Wed 9 Jul 2008 - 7:49

DeafNala wrote:
AND is that Slimey Jack I spied by the docks?
He's known as Slippery Jack to his meals. pirat
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Thu 10 Jul 2008 - 4:10

zelophahad wrote:
DeafNala wrote:
AND is that Slimey Jack I spied by the docks?
He's known as Slippery Jack to his meals. pirat

lol! I take it as "known BRIEFLY to his meals."

I stand corrected; I'm not much with names [another sign of imminent senility]. Depending on gender All the World can be summed up as being either Buddy or Sweetheart. Suspect
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Mon 14 Jul 2008 - 2:14

[moved to preserve chronology]


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WarbossKurgan
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Mon 14 Jul 2008 - 8:26



The arrows and more arrows of outrageous fortune

Murlok stomped across the ruined town. He wasn't enjoying being the warband's leader as his head normally hurt too much anyway. The extra headache of dealing with command decisions, constant quarrels and the near-impossible task of getting the Troll to do anything was getting to be too much. He couldn't wait till Hadduk was back on his feet and he could get on with interpreting the visions from the Great Green again. They did have two fragments of the Bloodfane in their packs but they were a fair distance from the safety of their camp.







He was shaken from his gloom by the sound of an arrow zinging past his ear: The Bretonnian Outlaws! The Fishmen dived into cover and tried to see where the cursed Outlaws were and what they were up to. It looked suspiciously like an ambush – and the Halibuteers had blindly stumbled into the centre of it. Spratt the Goblin seemed to think it was Trout's fault and rushed at the larger Orc, swinging hit club madly. Trout dodged the ill-aimed blow and sent the Goblin packing with a boot to his behind.







Kod swore and ran into a ruined building, yelling for Boyz to follow him. Makrul slung his crossbow and climbed up into the roof of a wrecked shop. Marlin the Stupid dribbled a bit but in an unexpected moment of lucidity Dagon the Troll pounded forwards towards the old town walls and the Outlaws hidden there, bawling "FIIIIIISSSSHH MENNN!"







Arrows started flying from two or three different directions as the Halibuteers rushed forwards. Murlok cried out when he took a shot in the thigh, pitched over and chose to stay down. That was the final straw, he couldn't be bothered anymore. The noise of several Orcs barking obscenities at each other seemed to fade into the blackness as he passed out.



After a couple of futile minutes Makrul finally saw a target and took a shot - he hit the archer as he ran along a raised walk-way and the young Bretonnian stumbled and fell flat on his face.

Dagon the Troll returned to his normal intellectual level and repeatedly bashed the great fishy head of his costume against a barricade.





The Bretonnians were sending out many more deadly missiles by then though, several more Fishmen were hit as they dodged between walls, one of the Outlaws even ran across a gang-plank into the upper story of the building Kod was lurking in. Just as two more Boyz joined him the Bretonnian tried to jump a hole in the shattered floor above them, missed his footing and plummeted to the ground. He landed heavily among the Orcs who grinned at the prospect of an easy kill.







But it was not to be – seeing their companion in peril the Outlaws fired volley after volley in through the broken windows and with a host of arrows sticking out of their fish-suits the Halibuteers broke and ran. The Outlaws ended the skirmish with two shards of Wyrdstone, leaving the Fishmen with just one.



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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Mon 14 Jul 2008 - 13:10

zelophahad wrote:
The Merrie Men of Chalons were sitting around in their hideout, laughing, drinking and gazing in eager expectation at the enormous hog Le Moine Tuc was spit-roasting over the fire. It had been another good day in Vercuso: Another haul of treasure procured and another victorious confrontation with the fishy greenskins. The orcs were lacking their leader who still didn’t appear to have recovered from the arrow wounds he’d received when they’d last met.

Consequently, Robin had ordered Jean Le Petit and Will L'Écarlate to lead a marksman a bit closer and try and draw the orcs away from the lovely Mademoiselle Marianne. Will and Jean had ended up even closer than they’d planned when they’d both fallen through the rotten wood of a walkway, but the orcs had run off before Jean got a chance to lay into them with his stave. Another of the Merrie Men, eager to demonstrate his climbing skills, had taken a nasty fall, and only survived the scrap because the orcs had left his unconscious form for dead. Meanwhile Robin and Tuc had protected Marianne from a rather unpredictable troll.

As he turned the spit and attended to the sizzling pork, Tuc mused about the changes in Robin Le Capot since they’d arrived in Vercuso and taken Marianne into their gang. Tuc would never say anything out loud, but he was just beginning to worry a little about Robin’s leadership. His love for Marianne appeared to be making him uncharacteristically cautious and the fact of the matter was Robin hadn’t killed a single foe since they arrived. Alongside this, young Will L'Écarlate was gaining more and more respect with the men. Will was a good lad, but ambitious, and the Marksmen of the Yew (who had done most of the killing in Vercuso) were increasingly looking to him. Maybe there was a subtle way Tuc could encourage the boss…

Robin Le Capot and Marianne had been chatting and laughing in a romantic huddle by the fire, but suddenly he leapt up from his chair with a flourish and brandished what was obviously another love-gift for his lady. After the hilarious incident with the sword, Tuc was amused to see Jean Le Petit keeping his mouth shut, yet unable to stifle a grimace as Robin presented the beautiful longbow to Marianne. Five minutes later, when she’d put an arrow through a dead fish fifty paces across the street below, Tuc heard Jean mumble appreciatively, ‘She may be a giggly girlie, but there’s no denying that lass is full of surprises!’

Le Moine Tuc smiled, all the gang loved having Marianne around – she certainly did raise morale. And maybe if she was learning to look after herself, Robin might be more willing to return to his old swashbuckling ways…
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PostSubject: Re: Luncheim in Manchester (the Flame On guys) - Pic heavy!   Today at 21:09

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