Thursday, January 22, 2015
After a hideously long time on my painting desk, the next hybrid is done. A meltagun toting 2nd generation, or brother Char to his fellows. The base model is a Mantic Games Plague model from Deadzone. I added a masked head to give him a little adeptus mechanicus feel. The gun arm took some work, a I had to change the position to lower the weapon so I could add the strap to give it some weight. A little greenstuff, an extra arm and some talos bits for stim injectors and there he is.
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
Last weekend we kicked off the gaming for 2015 with a large Pulp Alley game hosted by John of JustJohn fame. Saturday morning (late morning, we just can't seem to stop talking little men over pot after pot of coffee) we adjourned to John's hobby building (shed doesn't really cover it) and his enormous wargaming table.
The game was Pulp Alley, and the scenario was uncover several minor plot points hidden around the table to find out the whereabouts of the captive held by the sinister cult. The players were as follows:
A loose alliance gathered to find the captive, all with agendas of their own:
Bruce - An inquisitor and his retinue of Imperial followers.
Paul(Cheetor)- Heisenbork brainboy and his band of greenskins. Big Billy was my favourite here.
Sean - A unit of Imperial Ogryns, led by Beefpounder, the biggest Ogryn I've ever encountered.
This very loose alliance was set against the cult, represented by:
Craig - A gang of trench-coat wearing toughs led by Salty Tom.
Dave - My own league was a group of nasty genestealer hybrids, led by magos (not magus, you'll note) Kurgan.
So, essentially the Imperial/Ork alliance had to find the clues to the whereabouts of the captive, and the cult had to keep them guessing.
|The inquisitor leads his followers into the jungle.|
|The ogryns crash straight into the hybrids.|
|Bruce drives his men forward like a merciless tyrant.|
|Dodging like a boss.|
Well, that's what statistically would have happened. Instead, both managed to fluff several peril rolls and sprain their ankles, taking them out of the game. Hilarity ensued, with the mental image of two Imperial hardcases rolled up in a ball grabbing their ankles and hissing 'Fffffffff, oOooOoooo that's sore!'
|"We never talk of this, agreed?"|
|Heisenbork leads his greenies to the secret entrance.|
|Bono attempts to barge the charging cultists out of his way in the dying moments of the game.|
|Imperial guard and squats await the assault.|
|An odd alliance of Leprecians (Ratlings) and the Legion of the Damned.|
|The Leprecians advance along the flanks.|
|These legionnaires hadn't seen battle in literally decades up to this. They seemed to have retained their mojo though.|
To finish off a very fine weekend of gaming, Sunday morning saw John crack out Dungeonquest. Insanely difficult, but loads of fun. I must get me a set.
|Bottom right character. Second tile, fell down a hole. Good old Dungeonquest.|