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

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)

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

What a cool story line; this is going to be EXCELLENT!
AND Lunchheim !
Oh, nice minis BTW.

nice! and some nice mini's

Awesome!

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

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?"

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.

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

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.

I am loving this. Keep it up.

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 [ ] sacrifice in giving up your lunch to supply us with these reports is truly appreciated! WELL DONE!

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.

~ ~ ~

Yet another great update full of atmospfere ...both storytellingwise and in the way the pictures are shot

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

I love the whole Rob In Hood theme of the warband and especially love the story and the way you changed their names

"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!

DeafNala wrote:

AND is that Slimey Jack I spied by the docks?

He's known as Slippery Jack to his meals.

zelophahad wrote:

DeafNala wrote:

AND is that Slimey Jack I spied by the docks?

He's known as Slippery Jack to his meals.

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.

[moved to preserve chronology]

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.