tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216597032024-03-13T16:38:24.747+00:00The Revenge of Carlos Plynkes"DJ, give me a beat I can ROCK TO,
I want a joint you can DROP TO,
The ceiling is caving in,
The speakers is rumbling." Lady Emma Hamilton, Naples 1793.Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.comBlogger71125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-61113141404875581812014-06-30T20:17:00.000+01:002014-07-02T11:20:04.643+01:00Tintin au Congo<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Another entry from the Colonial Painting Expedition on the Lead Adventure Forum. Can't believe we've had sixty-two entries already. A little tongue-in-cheek representation of one of my childhood comic heroes, depicted here in what was definitely not his finest hour.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The album this was inspired by is "Tintin au Congo." This book was never available in the UK when I was a kid, so my copy is a French language edition I bought while on holiday. Nowadays there is an English language version sold in British bookshops (which is somewhat surprising, as we are much more sensitive about this kind of thing these days than we were back then). It is usually sold with a parental guidance sticker that says what amounts to <b>"Warning: May contain Racism." </b>And well, it does. It was written in 1931 and displays the unfortunate attitudes of its time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I
took the liberty of moving the action a little to the east into Belgian
Rwanda/Burundi to give me the excuse to paint some gorgeous Tutsi
shields, and had Tintin join the ranks of the brutal <i>Force Publique...</i> well, just because it amused me to do so.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The body of the
figure comes from the Woodbine Designs Great War range, with the head of
the Copplestone "not Tintin." Milou/Snowy had a little work done on his
ears, as the figure as sculpted has floppy ears, whereas Snowy's are
always perky and standing up. I also provided the young lad with a bigger quiff
than Mr. Copplestone initially gave him, as the original is rather
small. That was done with a dab of Greenstuff.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">All in all I had a lot of fun making this one.</span></span><br />
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Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-1273267665087205822014-06-24T11:14:00.002+01:002014-06-24T13:15:46.445+01:00Death in Dar Fur<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Another entry from LAF's Colonial Painting Expedition...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In this most remote of the Great War's theatres, a trooper of the Sudanese Camel Corps comes across a fallen Fur warrior.</span></div>
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Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-90369376418348448202014-06-23T14:16:00.000+01:002014-06-23T14:16:34.696+01:00Entries from the Colonial Painting Expedition<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Over on the <a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/index.php" target="_blank">Lead Adventure Forum</a> we're currently running one of our 'painting clubs' where everybody paints single figures or small groups based on a particular board's theme until we get to a total of one hundred entries. This time it's the turn of the Colonial Adventures board, which is the board I've been put in charge of. Thought I might as well post a couple of my own entries here on the blog.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><u><b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The Zulu</span></b></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Induna, uDloko ibutho, the fight at Jim's House, January 1879.</b><br /><i>(Wargames Foundry)</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i> </i><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><b>The Balochi</b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i> </i><b>Sepoy, 27th Bombay Native Infantry (1st Belooch Regt.), Abyssinia, 1868.</b><br /><i>(Mutineer Miniatures/Wargames Foundry conversion)</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><u>The Askari</u></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b> </b></span><b><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Sudanese Askari, Uganda Rifles, mid 1890s.</b></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: small;"><b> </b></span></b><span style="font-size: small;"><i>(Wargames Foundry minor conversion)</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="text-decoration: underline;">Quatermain vs. Cetshwayo</span></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Allan Quatermain, at the Battle of 'Ndondakasuka, Zululand, 1856.</b><i><br /><i>(Perry Miniatures conversion)</i> </i></span></span></div>
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Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-72705569902032514492014-06-23T13:46:00.001+01:002014-06-23T13:46:26.107+01:00Wahehe!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Those troublesome and tenacious foes of colonial Germany in East Africa, the Wahehe.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">These</span><span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">figures are a mix of Wargames Foundry and Copplestone Castings conversions.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Most of the shields were scratchbuilt, as I couldn't find anything available commercially that quite did the massive shields sometimes favoured by the Hehe justice.</span><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/18/163_06_06_14_12_47_33_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> These conversions were fun and easy to do, and result in some pretty unique-looking figures (it's always nice to have figures other people haven't got!). </span></span></div>
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A small warband of Tuta warriors. Figures are Copplestone, Copplestone conversions, and Foundry/Copplestone hybrid conversions.</div>
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And some warrior women, Sally Singana and Mafuthi Mtwetwe...</div>
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<br />Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-14054408593058113442011-06-16T13:22:00.007+01:002011-06-16T15:47:10.411+01:00This Open Sore of the World<div align="center"><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/1Main.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 553px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/1Main.jpg" border="0" /></a><em> "All I can add in my solitude is may Heaven’s rich blessings come down to everyone, American, English, or Turk, who will help heal this open sore of the world.”</em> David Livingstone.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/2Slaves.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 439px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/2Slaves.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/3Slaves2.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 411px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/3Slaves2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/4Slavers.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 418px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/4Slavers.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/5Slavers2.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 439px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/5Slavers2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/6Jemadar.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 475px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/6Jemadar.jpg" border="0" /></a>Wangwana and Jemadar of a Zanzibari caravan.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/8Jemadar3.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 443px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/8Jemadar3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/7Jemadar2.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 447px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/7Jemadar2.jpg" border="0" /></a>This fellow is based on Joseph Thomson's description of a Zanzibari headman in his expedition, who wore Arab garb and carried a large 'zulu-like' shield.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div><br /></div>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-53764146125149883012011-06-03T10:40:00.009+01:002011-06-04T12:34:04.415+01:00More Angoni Warriors<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/May2011Group.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 457px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/May2011Group.jpg" border="0" /></a>My Nyasaland Angoni army is getting larger (very slowly).<br /></div><br /><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Group2.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 393px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Group2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Group4.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 388px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Group4.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Group3.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 490px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Group3.jpg" border="0" /></a>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-19856334381526151942011-06-02T12:38:00.007+01:002011-06-02T13:27:01.978+01:00The Last Cartridge<div align="center"><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/LastCartridge.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 492px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/LastCartridge.jpg" border="0" /></a><strong> <em>'Surrounded by greatly superior numbers, their last cartridges gone, they tried to cut their way out, but they were overwhelmed and lost.'</em></strong> </div><br /><br /><div align="center">Colonel Plunkett's column comes to grief. Illustrated London News, 23rd May 1903.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/ColonelPlunkettsColumn.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 560px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/ColonelPlunkettsColumn.jpg" border="0" /></a> The previous scene was inspired by this illustration from <em>The Sphere</em>. Some more pics:<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Last7.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 311px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Last7.jpg" border="0" /></a> Fearsome Somali Dervishes.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Last4.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 471px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Last4.jpg" border="0" /></a></p>A grisly end.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Last6.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 407px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Last6.jpg" border="0" /></a> Plucky British chap meets his fate with grim determination.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Last2.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 463px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Last2.jpg" border="0" /></a> The last three sell their lives dearly. Men of the Second Battalion (Central African), King's African Rifles. A long way from their homes on the shores of Lake Nyasa.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Last5b.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 444px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Last5b.jpg" border="0" /></a><em> "Goodbye, old chum."<br /></em>Here at the end, there is no longer any need for forbidden love to hide itself away in the shadows.<br /><br /><br />(Sorry about that, when posing the figures they just ended up like that and I couldn't resist it. He he!)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div></div>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-14131636910247362452010-10-23T15:01:00.003+01:002010-10-23T15:15:33.985+01:00La Liberté guidant le peuple<a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Liberte3.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 490px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 550px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Liberte3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/LaLiberte.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 660px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 500px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/LaLiberte.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><strong>Les "Trois Glorieuses" - Paris - 27, 28, 29 Juillet, 1830. </strong></div><strong></strong><br /><p align="center">Another older figure from the 'blogging gap.' Thought it couldn't hurt to show her off on the blog.</p><br /><br /><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Liberte1b.jpg"></a>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-48286548629322234392010-10-23T14:12:00.004+01:002010-10-23T15:09:02.774+01:00More from the Darkest Africa Variety Bucket<div align="center">A few more Darkest Africa pics from the past blogless year:<br /><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/WaNandi/Kipsigisbig2.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 418px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/WaNandi/Kipsigisbig2.jpg" border="0" /></a> Scouts for a Kipsigis raiding party. Mara Valley, Kenya, 1902.</div><br /><div align="center"><br /><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/WaNandi/Kipsigisbig.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 422px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/WaNandi/Kipsigisbig.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Kipsigisgroup3.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 525px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 323px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Kipsigisgroup3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /><div><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Kipsigisgroup1.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 594px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 323px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/Kipsigisgroup1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/KARcombined.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 716px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 323px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/KARcombined.jpg" border="0" /></a> Bugler, 3rd Battalion, King's African Rifles. Fort Nandi, Kenya, 1905.</div><br /><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/4/163_09_12_09_1_19_07.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 349px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/4/163_09_12_09_1_19_07.jpg" border="0" /></a> Woman in bowler hat. Nandi Hills, Kenya. 1930s.</div><br /><br /><div align="center"><br /><br /><div><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/NandiHillscombined.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 628px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/NandiHillscombined.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /></div>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-28311263426436343322010-10-20T18:13:00.014+01:002010-10-20T19:02:16.425+01:00A Couple of Side Projects<div align="justify"><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/72ndFoot.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 360px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/72ndFoot.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><p>Finished two lots of figures today, both from distracting side-projects. I am always getting turned away from my main course (Darkest Africa), and this is no exception. I really wish I could prevent this from happening but I seem to be powerless against it. I find myself tempted by the thought that it is "just a few figures" and will be done in no time, and that is why I have a kazillion unfinished projects. I need to be more disciplined, but if you know me you'd know that idea is a right laugh.</p></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Both are destined for African gaming, but about eighty years apart. First of all we have a few fellows from the 72nd Foot, circa 1835. They will be part of a "small" skirmish project loosely based on events in the H. Rider Haggard novel "Marie", in which a young Allan Quatermain must defend the love of his life from a band of vengeful Xhosa.</div><br /><br /><div align="justify"><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/72ndFoot2.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 446px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/72ndFoot2.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><p>The figures are Perry Carlist War Brits, which aren't quite right (but near enough) for the 72nd Foot in the 6th Cape Frontier War. I found them enjoyable yet quite difficult to paint. I don't know how those Napoleonic bods put up with figure after figure like this. These guys' uniforms are nowhere near as complicated as most Napoleonic figures, but I still found them quite challenging. And those diced bands drove me up the bloody wall. I suppose it's just that I'm not used to painting this type of thing.</p></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Next up will be the Xhosa band, then Quatermain, Marie Marais and various servants and hangers-on.<br /><br /></div><div align="justify"><a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/GoldCoastunsharp.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 750px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 420px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/back%20to%20africa/GoldCoastunsharp.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The second is a little experiment: A soldier from Gold Coast Regiment during the Great War. Having done one test figure I'm reasonably pleased with how he turned out, so I think I will do a whole unit when I can find the time. </div>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-60783553329720903912010-10-16T17:35:00.004+01:002010-10-16T22:30:51.981+01:00Darkest Africa: Variety Bucket<div align="center"><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_19_06_10_6_23_54_0.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 444px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_19_06_10_6_23_54_0.jpg" border="0" /></a> Masai dancers.</div><div align="center"><br /><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_03_08_10_3_05_49_0.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 593px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_03_08_10_3_05_49_0.jpg" border="0" /></a> Masai scouts, Great War.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_19_06_10_6_16_19_0.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 541px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_19_06_10_6_16_19_0.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_19_06_10_6_34_31_1.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 487px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_19_06_10_6_34_31_1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_30_06_10_3_16_56_0.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 414px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_30_06_10_3_16_56_0.jpg" border="0" /></a> Burton, Speke and co. Somaliland.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_23_04_10_12_24_34_0.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 457px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_23_04_10_12_24_34_0.jpg" border="0" /></a> Warlord Mirambo and his Ruga-Ruga.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_23_04_10_12_24_34_2.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 615px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 368px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_23_04_10_12_24_34_2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_23_04_10_12_24_34_3.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 615px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 377px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_23_04_10_12_24_34_3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_23_04_10_12_27_31_3.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 615px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 317px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_23_04_10_12_27_31_3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_02_03_10_3_22_38.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 538px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_02_03_10_3_22_38.jpg" border="0" /></a>East African Arab Sheikh and his loyal bodyguard.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_03_08_10_8_55_40_0.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 492px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_03_08_10_8_55_40_0.jpg" border="0" /></a> Arab cannon.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_03_08_10_8_55_40_1.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 473px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/6/163_03_08_10_8_55_40_1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_01_02_10_5_15_50.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 524px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_01_02_10_5_15_50.jpg" border="0" /></a> DOAG troops.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /></div>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-47529868936237265562010-10-16T17:12:00.005+01:002010-10-16T17:34:53.160+01:00Darkest Africa: Force Publique<div align="center"><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_02_03_10_3_15_35_1.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 285px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_02_03_10_3_15_35_1.jpg" border="0" /></a> My Force Publique army for <strong>Triumph and Tragedy</strong>.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_02_03_10_3_15_35_2.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 511px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_02_03_10_3_15_35_2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_02_03_10_3_15_35_3.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 415px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_02_03_10_3_15_35_3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_02_03_10_3_17_58_0.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 421px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_02_03_10_3_17_58_0.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_12_01_10_3_02_22_0.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 615px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 483px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_12_01_10_3_02_22_0.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_15_01_10_5_13_59.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 445px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_15_01_10_5_13_59.jpg" border="0" /></a> Native scouts.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_02_03_10_3_17_58_2.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 424px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_02_03_10_3_17_58_2.jpg" border="0" /></a> Cannibal allies.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_02_03_10_3_17_58_1.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 433px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_02_03_10_3_17_58_1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_26_01_10_3_19_53_0.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 501px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_26_01_10_3_19_53_0.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_02_03_10_3_15_35_1.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /></div>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-21472736329985581702010-10-16T16:23:00.009+01:002010-10-16T22:33:01.580+01:00Darkest Africa: Nyasaland Angoni<div align="justify"><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_12_03_10_3_07_22_3.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 442px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_12_03_10_3_07_22_3.jpg" border="0" /></a> It's been a long time, but finally another post. Got out of the habit of updating the blog, mostly because I find Blogger extremely tiresome. In fact I hate it. But I thought I'd share pictures of some of the Darkest Africa work I've done during the long hiatus. First of all, some Angoni from Nyasaland.<br /><div align="justify"><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_12_03_10_3_07_22_3.jpg"></a></div><div align="justify"><br /><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_12_03_10_3_07_22_1.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 354px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_12_03_10_3_07_22_1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 351px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_01_02_10_3_08_51_0.jpg" border="0" /><br /><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_26_01_10_3_19_54_1.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 356px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_26_01_10_3_19_54_1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_12_03_10_3_07_22_0.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 373px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_12_03_10_3_07_22_0.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.lead-adventure.de/gallery/5/163_12_03_10_3_07_22_3.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /></div></div>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-40318197930070831142009-01-04T15:38:00.007+00:002011-06-03T12:29:21.254+01:00The Kaiser's Elephants<div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_1.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_1.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="566" width="400" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">(Click on pics to see the correct size.)<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_2.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_2.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="566" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_3.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_3.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="566" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_4.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_4.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="566" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_5.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_5.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="566" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_6.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_6.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="566" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/CopyofPage_7.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/CopyofPage_7.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="566" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_8.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_8.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="566" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;" class="post" id="msg_102008"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_9.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_9.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="566" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_10.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_10.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="566" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_11.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_11.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="566" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_12.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_12.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="566" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_13.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_13.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="566" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_14.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_14.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="566" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_15.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/Page_15.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="566" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">One of these days I'll find out how to have a wider space for pics on Blogger. I've seen other people do it. Sorry the captions aren't really readable until you click on them. Grrr....<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The rules we used were Björn and Chris' internationally famous set, <b>Triumph and Tragedy</b>. Well, kind of. We messed around with it a bit to suit our purposes.<br /><br />We played a co-operative game with Sickers doing his best Roger Moore as Bassy and myself in the Lee Marvin role of Flynn.<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/outakes1.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/outakes1.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="291" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/outakes2.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/outakes2.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="292" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Sprinkled across the playing area were encounter markers, randomly placed using the "over the shoulder toss" method. The markers took the form of little piles of poo. Each encounter was drawn from a deck at random, and there were some dummies.<br /></div><br /><br /><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/outakes3.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/outakes3.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="292" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/outakes4.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Kaisers%20elephants/outakes4.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="296" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">To run the enemies and animals we had a deck of stat cards as in normal T&T, but we blindly shuffled them every turn so we would not know in what order the forces opposing us would act. We concocted a set of programmed rules for the creatures and German policemen, largely inspired by the rules for controlling dinosaurs in the game <b>Saurian Safari</b>. Occasionally when circumstances we hadn't anticipated came up we would intervene with a bit of common sense, present the Germans with a list of tactical options, and let the dice decide which they would perform.<br /></div><br /><b><br /><br /></b><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Casualty list:</b><br />Flynn O' Flynn, gored and trampled by an elephant. Survived, just.<br />1 elephant, killed by Flynn's boys and Bassy.<br />6 of Flynn's boys, killed by <i>Plough the Earth</i>.<br />1 askari of the Polizeitruppe, shot dead by Flynn's boys.<br />Bassy, captured by the Polizeitruppe.<br /><br /><br /><i>The legend of Plough the Earth grows...</i></div></div>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-56489911867288458582008-12-03T10:57:00.009+00:002008-12-03T12:35:05.642+00:00Playing as the Germans for a Change<div style="text-align: justify;">Had to postpone our Gallipoli game, as I'm bone idle and unable to get my painting groove at the minute. But the lads wanted to come over last night so I had to rustle up something in a hurry. So we went back to the Western Front in 1914. Not part of mine and Sickly's Rommel campaign, just a one-off thing thrown together at the last minute. As Sickers is usually the French in our campaign, he fancied being the Germans for a change. Wakey joined with him and they teamed up on Chronoglide as the French, as he wanted to be on his own, and to compromise for no man.<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/01layout.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/01layout.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="231" width="400" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">(Click on pictures for a slightly bigger version)</span></span><br /></div>The game depicted a fictional French village somewhere in Lorraine. Retreating French troops decide to stop and make a stand here. The Germans reach the place, and are determined to drive them out. Both sides have limited artillery support.<br /><br />The rules we used this time were Iron Ivan's <b>Price of Glory</b>.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/02ThePlayers.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/02ThePlayers.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="310" width="400" /></a><br /></div><b>The Players.</b> National stereotypes abound. Left to right we have <b>Wakey</b>, depicting the jovial German of the Beer Hall. Next is <b>Sickers</b>, revelling in the glories of Prussia's military past (and practising clicking his heels). Meanwhile <b>Chronoglide</b> attempts to encapsulate his view of the entire French nation with a facial expression and a hand gesture (he really needs a pack of <i>Gauloises</i> to pull off that look).<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/03ItBegins.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/03ItBegins.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="251" width="400" /></a><br /></div>The Germans emerge cautiously from the woods on the edge of the village. They also had a fifteen-man assault detachment. Wakey, given the option, rather than keep them with the main force, had sent them around the village to approach from the northern flank. Would they arrive in time to be of use?<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/04Windmill.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/04Windmill.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="268" width="400" /></a><br /></div>The French lookout/sharpshooter was ensconced in the windmill, and signalled the approach of the enemy. Chrono had been given the choice of placing him here or in the campanile of the church...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/05Church.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/05Church.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="248" width="400" /></a><br /></div><b>...St. Grimm's</b> where the resting French soldiers suddenly had to get their shit together and spring into action.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/06Bothsidesadvance.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/06Bothsidesadvance.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="229" width="400" /></a><br /></div>A desperate race to occupy the buildings on the edge of the village began.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/07Takingfire.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/07Takingfire.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="234" width="400" /></a><br /></div>The German attack had it bad from the outset. First of all the sharpshooter in the windmill took out 1st Squad's sergeant, and then the French 75s on the ridge behind the village spotted the Germans in the open and started dropping shells on them. Contrary to expectations (off-table arty in <b>Price of Glory</b> doesn't have a great chance of doing much other than demoralising the enemy) they scored a direct hit, instantly putting out of action much of the squad. The remainder, somewhat discouraged, cowered in the shell craters for a bit.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/08Frenchadvance.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/08Frenchadvance.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="255" width="400" /></a><br /></div>Not long after, the German artillery began shelling the main street. At first it had little physical effect, but it did make them get their heads down...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/09Frenchshelled.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/09Frenchshelled.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="275" width="400" /></a><br /></div>...But then they found their mark. A devastating succession of hits wiped out the platoon HQ, and thinned out one of the squads somewhat.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/10Sicklehaube.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/10Sicklehaube.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="289" width="400" /></a><br /></div>Sickly really took to the Pickelhaube. Wore it all night, not just for the photos. Even continued to wear it when Chrono and Wakey had gone home. In fact, I can't get it back off him. He's been wearing it all day today, and as I type this he is still wearing it, while dancing round the living room listening to Warren Zevon's "Werewolves of London" on my iPod. I should start calling it the Sicklehaube.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/11Headtohead.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/11Headtohead.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="267" width="400" /></a><br /></div>The German 1st Squad were the first to regain their composure, and so won the race to occupy the stone house, leaving the Frenchmen in the street somewhat exposed.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/12Enavant.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/12Enavant.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="267" width="400" /></a><br /></div>Meanwhile, thanks to their artillery support slowing down their foes, the other French squad had reached the safety of a house. But this was not enough for them. Seeing the enemy pinned down in the open, they fixed bayonets and charged out from cover. <b><i>En Avant!</i></b><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/13.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/13.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="267" width="400" /></a><br /></div>The German platoon HQ was close enough to the conflict to lend support to their comrades (according to the <i>Price of Glory</i> rules) and so Wakey bravely joined in with his personal character, the German leutnant, hoping to add enough to the fight to tip the balance in his favour.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/14Enavant3b.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/14Enavant3b.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="215" width="400" /></a><br /></div>Melee in <i>Price of Glory</i> is brutal, bloody and decisive. We like it that way. A desperate, pitched fight developed.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/15Enavant4.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/15Enavant4.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="243" width="400" /></a><br /></div>Eventually the tide turned in favour of the Germans. A single valiant Frenchman remained. The intervention of the German platoon HQ perhaps had been decisive. But Wakey paid for this victory with his life. The last act of the lone Frenchman before he fell was to bayonet the German leutnant through the throat.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/16retreat.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/16retreat.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="256" width="400" /></a><br /></div>Back on main street, a combination of artillery and rifle fire forced the remaining French back to St. Grimm's. Their numbers were steadily dwindling.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/17Assaultboysarrive.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/17Assaultboysarrive.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="251" width="400" /></a><br /></div>At this point, just in time to do nothing in particular, the flank-marching assault detachment arrived.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a target="_blank" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/18Pullback.jpg"><img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Playing%20as%20the%20Germans/18Pullback.jpg" alt="" border="0" height="243" width="400" /></a><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;">For realistically, it was all over. Probably it was the frenzied melee that had tipped it in their favour, but it seemed obvious that the Germans had won. They had paid for their victory dearly, and it had been quite close at times, but the French were not going to be able to hold the village. The last of them abandoned the church, and some were cut down as they tried to retreat across open ground. The sharpshooter had quietly slipped away, after the German artillery had used up the last of their shells using the windmill as target practice. The original Germans were mighty glad to see the flank marchers turn up though, for they were severely depleted and perhaps could not have finished the job on their own. The German players (getting rather too much into the spirit of things I fear) now started to talk of deflowering the local maidens and emptying the wine cellars, but I had to remind them that they weren't in Belgium now so they should behave themselves, and besides, it was still a long way to Paris.<br /><br />Once again <i>Price of Glory</i> had delivered a fast-paced, brutal and challenging game that everyone said they enjoyed. Could have been very different, especially as the artillery seriously punched above its weight with some pretty flukey dice-rolls for both sides.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">The only trouble I anticipate now is getting my Pickelhaube back off Sickly and persuading him into going back to being French for the remainder of our campaign. Now he has experienced the delights of being a pointy-headed Teuton, I don't think he wants to relinquish his new identity.<br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><br />Figs were from Renegade and Great War Miniatures. Scenery was a mix of stuff, but the buildings all came from Germany, courtesy of ESLO and our dear old LAF chum the Grimmster.<br /></div>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-58962132456364096462008-08-28T16:14:00.004+01:002008-08-28T16:20:58.840+01:00Manu Forti<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Manu%20Forti/Page1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Manu%20Forti/Page1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>(Click on pictures for full size version)<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Manu%20Forti/Page2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Manu%20Forti/Page2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Manu%20Forti/Page3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Manu%20Forti/Page3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Manu%20Forti/Page4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Manu%20Forti/Page4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Manu%20Forti/Page5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Manu%20Forti/Page5.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Manu%20Forti/Page6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y40/Plynkes/Manu%20Forti/Page6.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><i>Extracts from "Manu Forti: A history of the Herefordshire Regiment 1860-1967" by Lt-Col. T.J.B. Hill MBE, KSLI.</i>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-2376311694184721332008-04-06T16:29:00.040+01:002008-04-06T20:21:22.845+01:00THE BALLOONATICS!<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jx0FYHGJI/AAAAAAAABZY/1wsENMjsLQg/s1600-h/01+Title+pic.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jx0FYHGJI/AAAAAAAABZY/1wsENMjsLQg/s400/01+Title+pic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186160848015923346" border="0" /></a>Okay, this is what I did today when I was supposed to be working on finishing off the latest member of my LAF club, <a href="http://forum.backofbeyond.de/viewtopic.php?t=4961">the FFFFF</a>. Let the side down a bit there, sorry about that. But at least I wasted the afternoon doing something with a Great War aviation theme, rather than just watching sport on the telly.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">My good friend Wakey added to my <span style="font-weight: bold;">Wings of War</span> collection by giving me the "Burning Drachens" set as a Christmas gift. As young Whatisname was staying for the weekend again we thought we'd give it a long-overdue play-test. A spot of balloon-busting, fine thing for a snowy sunday in April.<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jxwlYHGII/AAAAAAAABZQ/mxEcyZ_nZqg/s1600-h/01b+Burning+D.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jxwlYHGII/AAAAAAAABZQ/mxEcyZ_nZqg/s400/01b+Burning+D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186160787886381186" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">GAME ONE</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"></span></span></div><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jxolYHGHI/AAAAAAAABZI/KrfVf718jM0/s1600-h/Game+1+01.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jxolYHGHI/AAAAAAAABZI/KrfVf718jM0/s400/Game+1+01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186160650447427698" border="0" /></a>As we haven't played the game much in its simplest form yet, we decided to leave the optional altitude rules for another day. It's quite tricky enough as it is for now, thank you.<br /></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jxjlYHGGI/AAAAAAAABZA/I7Z4i92yPWY/s1600-h/Game+1+02+Italian+arrives.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jxjlYHGGI/AAAAAAAABZA/I7Z4i92yPWY/s400/Game+1+02+Italian+arrives.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186160564548081762" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>My opponent opted to be the attacker, and choose a Spad in Italian livery, equipped with rockets. So I would be facing <span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Arturo Benedetto Giovanni Giuseppe Sickleoni</span>, noted Italian air-ace, opera singer, sculptor and part-time maniac</span></span>.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jxfFYHGFI/AAAAAAAABY4/Fvjif1VCARw/s1600-h/Game+1+03+The+Target.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jxfFYHGFI/AAAAAAAABY4/Fvjif1VCARw/s400/Game+1+03+The+Target.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186160487238670418" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline">To defend my precious Central Powers observation balloon I had a measly couple of anti-aircraft guns. But help was on its way in the form of the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Graf von Plynkenstein</span> in his Albatros.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"></span></span></div><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jxZlYHGEI/AAAAAAAABYw/2YjVKD995T8/s1600-h/Game+1+04+attack+run.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jxZlYHGEI/AAAAAAAABYw/2YjVKD995T8/s400/Game+1+04+attack+run.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186160392749389890" border="0" /></a>Sickleoni gave it some welly, speeding towards my balloon at full speed, lining up his attack run to unleash his rockets. The counters are the shell bursts of my somewhat ineffective <span style="font-weight: bold;">Archie</span>.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jxUFYHGDI/AAAAAAAABYo/84E4ZIuA35A/s1600-h/Game+1+04b+Oh+Dear.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jxUFYHGDI/AAAAAAAABYo/84E4ZIuA35A/s400/Game+1+04b+Oh+Dear.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186160298260109362" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Whoosh!</span> went the rockets, seriously damaging my balloon but luckily not destroying it. But pay heed to the above picture. There isn't a card in the game that can get Sickleoni out of that one. In his eagerness to down the balloon, he had given no thought at all to his own safety. A serious miscalculation gave him no room to pull away...<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jxGVYHGCI/AAAAAAAABYg/0T6IywIgG0g/s1600-h/Game+1+End.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jxGVYHGCI/AAAAAAAABYg/0T6IywIgG0g/s400/Game+1+End.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186160062036908066" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:130%;">BOOF!</span><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;">Ah, a mid-air collision 'tween balloon and plane. Sickleoni's plane exploded, but, to much chuckling from myself, somehow the balloon survived. Well, that was a quick game. I didn't even get to do anything except make a couple of little black clouds with my Archie.<br /><br />So we thought we'd have another go...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">GAME TWO</span></span><br /></div><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></div><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jw91YHGBI/AAAAAAAABYY/RQabvcZBeo4/s1600-h/Game+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jw91YHGBI/AAAAAAAABYY/RQabvcZBeo4/s400/Game+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186159916008019986" border="0" /></a>Determined to avenge his brother's death, and complete the mission he failed, <span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"> noted race-car driver, pasta chef and full-time maniac<span style="font-weight: bold;">, </span></span></span> <span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Giuseppe </span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Benedetto </span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Arturo Giovanni Sickleoni </span>immediately volunteered to give it another go.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"></span></span></div><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jw41YHGAI/AAAAAAAABYQ/ZrQ1xuSi_Ww/s1600-h/Game+2+01+Oh+dear.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jw41YHGAI/AAAAAAAABYQ/ZrQ1xuSi_Ww/s400/Game+2+01+Oh+dear.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186159830108674050" border="0" /></a>Sickleoni, that stick in your hand: If you move it to the left or right it turns the plane, I think. Nice idea, but I think you need to turn a bit more than that...<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jwy1YHF_I/AAAAAAAABYI/Sy3Jje5g2gw/s1600-h/Game+2+02+End.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jwy1YHF_I/AAAAAAAABYI/Sy3Jje5g2gw/s400/Game+2+02+End.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186159727029458930" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">POOF!</span></span><br /></div><br />Tricky game, this. Ha! Ha! Once more the balloon survived while the Spad exploded into little bits. Real bad luck for Sickers with the damage cards there (chuckle).<br /><br />With that, the Sickleoni family, having taken their first steps in forming a dynasty of Kamikaze pilots, decided to give up on the whole balloon-attacking lark. The last surviving brother, professional footballer, former Catholic Priest and not at all maniacal (but rather cautious and sensible) pilot, <span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Giovanni </span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Giuseppe </span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Arturo </span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Benedetto </span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> Sickleoni </span>was going into the balloon-protecting business...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">GAME THREE</span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="mw-headline"></span></span></div> </div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jwu1YHF-I/AAAAAAAABYA/dgD_mn6EH38/s1600-h/Game+3+01.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jwu1YHF-I/AAAAAAAABYA/dgD_mn6EH38/s400/Game+3+01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186159658309982178" border="0" /></a>Yes, it was time for the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Graf von Plynkenstein</span> to make an utter fool of himself, or alternatively, show these bumbling Italians how one goes about destroying a balloon.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jwhlYHF9I/AAAAAAAABX4/Ld0Qrca3j3M/s1600-h/Game+3+02+This+is+how+we+do+it.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jwhlYHF9I/AAAAAAAABX4/Ld0Qrca3j3M/s400/Game+3+02+This+is+how+we+do+it.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186159430676715474" border="0" /></a>I relied on trusty machine guns, none of this rocketry malarkey. It had caused the Sickleonis to fatally take their eyes off the ball. I would have none of that. You see, Sickers? <span style="font-style: italic;">TURN AWAY</span>, not at the last minute, but slightly before. Riddled the balloon with rounds. Unable to tell what effect it had, but didn't look like much.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jwYlYHF8I/AAAAAAAABXw/YdJVA2Vt8wk/s1600-h/Game+3+03+Italian+arrives.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jwYlYHF8I/AAAAAAAABXw/YdJVA2Vt8wk/s400/Game+3+03+Italian+arrives.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186159276057892802" border="0" /></a>As I, von Plynkenstein banked away for another run at the balloon, the last of the Sickleoni brothers arrived on the scene, hell bent on revenge.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jwFFYHF7I/AAAAAAAABXo/OXS_kjxrj5s/s1600-h/Game+3+04.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jwFFYHF7I/AAAAAAAABXo/OXS_kjxrj5s/s400/Game+3+04.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186158941050443698" border="0" /></a>There you see an anti-aircraft artillery shell exploding exactly where I had been the phase before. That's the closest we came to scoring a hit with those things all day.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jv1VYHF6I/AAAAAAAABXg/4L4vfHHC_F0/s1600-h/Game+3+05.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jv1VYHF6I/AAAAAAAABXg/4L4vfHHC_F0/s400/Game+3+05.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186158670467504034" border="0" /></a>He was coming at me, but I couldn't let that divert me from the mission.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jvrlYHF5I/AAAAAAAABXY/IG1xgewhSzY/s1600-h/Game+3+06.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jvrlYHF5I/AAAAAAAABXY/IG1xgewhSzY/s400/Game+3+06.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186158502963779474" border="0" /></a>I zoomed past him on my attack run on the balloon just as he opened up on me himself.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jvmlYHF4I/AAAAAAAABXQ/J7GiqVCsfMQ/s1600-h/Game+3+06a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jvmlYHF4I/AAAAAAAABXQ/J7GiqVCsfMQ/s400/Game+3+06a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186158417064433538" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">"THEES IS FAR MY BRAATHERS!" <span style="font-style: italic;">DAKKA! DAKKA! DAKKA!<br /></span></span>(Must admit I was making engine, rocket and machine gun noises right throughout the game)<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jvflYHF3I/AAAAAAAABXI/D1j3jsj2vZg/s1600-h/Game+3+07.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jvflYHF3I/AAAAAAAABXI/D1j3jsj2vZg/s400/Game+3+07.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186158296805349234" border="0" /></a>Don't know how badly I hurt the balloon, but Sickleoni hit me, all right. Nothing significant to the airframe, but a hit to the engine sent oil spraying into my face and seriously impacted on my card choices for the remainder of the game.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jvVlYHF2I/AAAAAAAABXA/dSFGPoR3wP4/s1600-h/Game+3+08.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jvVlYHF2I/AAAAAAAABXA/dSFGPoR3wP4/s400/Game+3+08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186158125006657378" border="0" /></a>Still, must soldier on as best we can. We veered away from each other in opposite directions, and then both turned back towards the balloon.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jvMlYHF1I/AAAAAAAABW4/2sK27fCRA_Q/s1600-h/Game+3+09.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jvMlYHF1I/AAAAAAAABW4/2sK27fCRA_Q/s400/Game+3+09.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186157970387834706" border="0" /></a>An attack run right down the length of the balloon. Come on, Sickleoni! You're supposed to be defending it from me!<br /></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_ju6VYHF0I/AAAAAAAABWw/_aVKbouVArQ/s1600-h/Game+3+10.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_ju6VYHF0I/AAAAAAAABWw/_aVKbouVArQ/s400/Game+3+10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186157656855222082" border="0" /></a>Verdammt! These bullets don't seem to be doing anything!<br /></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jun1YHFzI/AAAAAAAABWo/Wb64oaXuBHQ/s1600-h/Game+3+11.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jun1YHFzI/AAAAAAAABWo/Wb64oaXuBHQ/s400/Game+3+11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186157339027642162" border="0" /></a>Banking away again, I gave the Archie gunners a taste of their own medicine, strafing them as I passed by.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_juNFYHFyI/AAAAAAAABWg/lDehBWP52kU/s1600-h/Game+3+12.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_juNFYHFyI/AAAAAAAABWg/lDehBWP52kU/s400/Game+3+12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186156879466141474" border="0" /></a>Oops, he was coming up on my tail now.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_juC1YHFxI/AAAAAAAABWY/OAiqJsry4E0/s1600-h/Game+3+13.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_juC1YHFxI/AAAAAAAABWY/OAiqJsry4E0/s400/Game+3+13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186156703372482322" border="0" /></a>But no one can out fly the Graf von Plynkenstein, not even with a coughing and spluttering engine! Ha! Incompetent Italian fool! Catch me if you can!<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jt1VYHFwI/AAAAAAAABWQ/s8URgswa-RU/s1600-h/Game+3+14.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jt1VYHFwI/AAAAAAAABWQ/s8URgswa-RU/s400/Game+3+14.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186156471444248322" border="0" /></a>Another attack run by our dashing Thuringian hero. Unfortunately at this point his guns jammed. Oh Shit.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jtrlYHFvI/AAAAAAAABWI/J3gdIa2Nmuo/s1600-h/Game+3+15+Scene+Missing.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jtrlYHFvI/AAAAAAAABWI/J3gdIa2Nmuo/s400/Game+3+15+Scene+Missing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186156303940523762" border="0" /></a>I would like to apologise to all our viewers for the loss of pictures at this point. Battery on the camera out of go-juice. Only took a minute to charge up enough power for a few more shots though, so you didn't miss much.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jtL1YHFuI/AAAAAAAABWA/zoPmZkXSUVk/s1600-h/Game+3+16.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jtL1YHFuI/AAAAAAAABWA/zoPmZkXSUVk/s400/Game+3+16.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186155758479677154" border="0" /></a>I had once again banked away from the balloon. Sickleoni had totally misguessed my intentions, and found himself speeding away in exactly the wrong direction, not a difficult thing to do in <span style="font-weight: bold;">Wings of War</span>.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jtDVYHFtI/AAAAAAAABV4/fXrVYyK0Q1c/s1600-h/Game+3+17.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jtDVYHFtI/AAAAAAAABV4/fXrVYyK0Q1c/s400/Game+3+17.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186155612450789074" border="0" /></a>Spinning the ailing crate around again I gave the Archie gunners a bit more what-for. Drat and double drat! <span style="font-style: italic;">Guns jammed again!</span><br /></div><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_js81YHFsI/AAAAAAAABVw/LVjUqLB-zFw/s1600-h/Game+3+17b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_js81YHFsI/AAAAAAAABVw/LVjUqLB-zFw/s400/Game+3+17b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186155500781639362" border="0" /></a>Come on, come on. Clear, damn you!<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_js01YHFrI/AAAAAAAABVo/lW8lfY7btAc/s1600-h/Game+3+18.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_js01YHFrI/AAAAAAAABVo/lW8lfY7btAc/s400/Game+3+18.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186155363342685874" border="0" /></a>That's got it. Now you buggers can have some, too!<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jsqFYHFqI/AAAAAAAABVg/fKdRBJQU-30/s1600-h/Game+3+19.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jsqFYHFqI/AAAAAAAABVg/fKdRBJQU-30/s400/Game+3+19.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186155178659092130" border="0" /></a>Trying to get a bead on me, Sickleoni almost emulates his brothers by crashing into the balloon, but thankfully misses by the skin of his teeth.<br /><br />As for myself, things were getting desperate. This was the last turn. The Italians on the ground had been frantically winching the balloon down. It was now almost on the ground, and they would no doubt scurry off with it to the safety of some cover or something. Whatever was happening, the game was about to end. I had been pumping the damn thing full of lead all game with seemingly no result. I had to do something.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jsk1YHFpI/AAAAAAAABVY/MKROzqnXm28/s1600-h/Game+3+20.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jsk1YHFpI/AAAAAAAABVY/MKROzqnXm28/s400/Game+3+20.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186155088464778898" border="0" /></a>So, inspired by the Sickleoni brothers I did the only thing I could, and swerved directly towards the balloon, all guns blazing...<br /><br />...Miraculously, it exploded! What a bloody fluke. So I zoomed through the smoke looking every inch the hero, and as if I knew that was going to happen all along. Phew. Talk about jammy. Victory to the Central Powers again! But at least Mama and Papa Sickleoni's youngest had survived. That would be a consolation for them.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Well, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Wings of War</span> proved to be a tricky prospect once again. It's a very simple and easy game to play, but as this afternoon's events have shown, quite hard to get the hang of. Trying to predict where your cards will land you can be difficult enough, never mind managing to get the enemy lined up in your sights. Still, lots and lots of fun, and I'm sure practice will make perfect.<br /></div><br />Definitely want to play this again some time.<br /><br /><br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jseVYHFoI/AAAAAAAABVQ/PvqylNjVHsc/s1600-h/Game+3+21+Finale.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_jseVYHFoI/AAAAAAAABVQ/PvqylNjVHsc/s400/Game+3+21+Finale.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186154976795629186" border="0" /></a>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-40579896080397525132008-04-06T16:26:00.006+01:002008-04-06T19:02:07.234+01:00Celebrity Endorsement<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_kPn1YHGKI/AAAAAAAABZg/t8k9XD3Eglw/s1600-h/Zeenat_Aman_3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R_kPn1YHGKI/AAAAAAAABZg/t8k9XD3Eglw/s200/Zeenat_Aman_3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186193622911359138" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Bollywood hippy chick, </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" >Zeenat Aman</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> says:</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:85%;">"My busy acting schedule can really be tough on my complexion. After returning home from a hard day's prancing around in front of a film crew, I use</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" > The Revenge of Carlos Plynkes</span><span style="font-size:85%;">. It contains the miracle ingredient </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Plynxwellox</span>, <span style="font-size:85%;">which has been proven by top scientists in a field to reverse the seven signs of ageing for up to eight minutes per application.</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" >The Revenge of Carlos Plynkes</span><span style="font-size:85%;">. For truly beautiful skin."</span><br /></div></div><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Though scientifically proven to reverse ageing in our labs, there is no actual evidence it works. Not to be taken internally. May cause skin irritation and drowsiness.</span></span><br /></div>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-23782370840126281102008-03-16T22:25:00.015+00:002008-03-17T00:34:28.768+00:00The Lost Payroll of the Beckmanntruppe: A first game of Triumph and Tragedy<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91pfdQ84RI/AAAAAAAABUg/5jau74RjBMA/s1600-h/01+title+pic.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91pfdQ84RI/AAAAAAAABUg/5jau74RjBMA/s400/01+title+pic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178411135698526482" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">German Central Africa, 1890.</span> The steamer <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Kaiserin Helena</span> carries a precious cargo along the remote north west shore of Lake Wittelsbach. It is the payroll for the Beckmanntruppe, which is upcountry involved in hard fighting claiming the lands of the Halloo-Halloo tribe for the Fatherland. What happens next is unclear. A mutiny, violence, and an unexplained boiler explosion. The steamer runs aground in hostile territory. Only one man returns to civilisation. It is Käpitan Kaufmann, burning with fever, raving mad and with several spears sticking out of him. Unable to carry it back on his own, he claims to have buried the payroll and drawn a map showing its location. Unfortunately, due to chronic (and sadly terminal) absent-mindedness, he left the map in his desk drawer on board the <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Helena</span>. He dies before he can give the location of the grounded steamer. Despite several searches, neither the ship nor the gold is found. It passes into local legend, and claims the lives of several reckless treasure hunters.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">1916.</span> While patrolling over the lake in search of German warships, Lt. Don Wimble, <span style="font-weight: bold;">RNAS</span>, spots the overgrown remains of the steamer from the air. Later he drunkenly boasts of his find in a Zanzibar saloon. Soon the entire region is talking about the treasure. Only the local German forces and the Congo Belgians have the wherewithal to mount immediate expeditions to claim the gold. Two independent-minded local commanders decide to grab the loot for themselves. As fate would have it, they approach the area from different directions at roughly the same time.<br /></div></div><br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">So this is the background to our latest game. Really just a cobbled-together scenario dreamed up without a lot of care or thought, for the purposes of trying out <span style="font-weight: bold;">Triumph and Tragedy</span>.<span class="mediumtext"></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91paNQ84QI/AAAAAAAABUY/eWJHU21aZYU/s1600-h/02+triumph_tragedy_cover.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91paNQ84QI/AAAAAAAABUY/eWJHU21aZYU/s400/02+triumph_tragedy_cover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178411045504213250" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">(Clicking on pictures generally increases their bigness)</span></span><br /></div>This is a relatively new game written by a couple of fellow forum members on <a href="http://forum.backofbeyond.de/"><span style="font-weight: bold;">LAF</span></a>. <span class="mediumtext">Björn was kind enough to send me a copy for free (autographed, no less!) when they came out. So the least I could do was give them a try and do a write-up on the game. They are an early 20th Century skirmish rules set, suitable for the Great War, between the wars Back of Beyond type affairs, Pulp fun, and even Darkest Africa, too.<br /><br />It uses quite a novel (well, it's new to me) card activation system. This meant of course we needed to print up some unit cards. This was all a spur of the moment sort of thing, and I found that I didn't have any card to print on. Bugger.<br /><br />But I did have...<br /></span><span class="mediumtext"></span></div><span class="mediumtext"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91pT9Q84PI/AAAAAAAABUQ/MugZnB2cV7c/s1600-h/03+Laminating+again.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91pT9Q84PI/AAAAAAAABUQ/MugZnB2cV7c/s400/03+Laminating+again.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178410938130030834" border="0" /></a>... A laminating machine! I love the smell of lamination in the morning. Smells like victory.<br /><br />Anyway, to the game. It was Plynkes against Siklee, who this time asked to be the Germans.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91pPNQ84OI/AAAAAAAABUI/07I1b5Yqxxs/s1600-h/04+Table+set+up.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91pPNQ84OI/AAAAAAAABUI/07I1b5Yqxxs/s400/04+Table+set+up.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178410856525652194" border="0" /></a>The playing area. A patch of parched scrub land on a remote shore of the lake. A native village dominated the centre of the table. Its inhabitants had scarpered, fearing a punitive expedition coming to punish them for what they did to the shipwrecked survivors of the <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Kaiserin Helena</span>.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91pKtQ84NI/AAAAAAAABUA/uBjfkfi-uSQ/s1600-h/04a+Kaiserin+Helena.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91pKtQ84NI/AAAAAAAABUA/uBjfkfi-uSQ/s400/04a+Kaiserin+Helena.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178410779216240850" border="0" /></a>Speaking of whom, here she is. Not in bad shape, considering. Within was the map. Whoever got to it first would then be able to determine where to dig. We put three random locations into a hat (actually my Wolseley helmet which seemed kind of fitting).<br /></div><br />These possible treasure sites were:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91pFtQ84MI/AAAAAAAABT4/8H0c_0A__9o/s1600-h/05+Grave+of+Feldwebel+Lohne.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91pFtQ84MI/AAAAAAAABT4/8H0c_0A__9o/s400/05+Grave+of+Feldwebel+Lohne.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178410693316894914" border="0" /></a>The lonely grave of Feldwebel Löhne...<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91pBtQ84LI/AAAAAAAABTw/pIlyMNeOlUA/s1600-h/06+Village+Campfire.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91pBtQ84LI/AAAAAAAABTw/pIlyMNeOlUA/s400/06+Village+Campfire.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178410624597418162" border="0" /></a>Beneath the the cooking fire of the villagers...<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91o9dQ84KI/AAAAAAAABTo/Rr-trLuILhQ/s1600-h/07+X+marks+the+spot.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91o9dQ84KI/AAAAAAAABTo/Rr-trLuILhQ/s400/07+X+marks+the+spot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178410551582974114" border="0" /></a>Or 'X marks the spot.'<br /></div><br />We weren't allowed to dig on the off-chance. Possession of the map was required before anyone could go making holes in the table.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91o1tQ84JI/AAAAAAAABTg/PbvU11cq-AE/s1600-h/09+The+Commanders.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91o1tQ84JI/AAAAAAAABTg/PbvU11cq-AE/s400/09+The+Commanders.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178410418438987922" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">The expedition leaders: Commandant Van Driscoles and Commissioner Steimel. </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">(Yes, they are my Flynn O' Flynn and Fleischer figures, but I didn't have time to paint up new characters specially for this game).</span></span><br /><br /></div>As it was our first go, we decided to keep our forces relatively simple. They were nearly identical.<br /><br />We both had:<br />A hero leading the expedition,<br />A unit of trained askaris,<br />A unit of veteran askaris,<br />A unit of musket-armed irregulars,<br />Some porters,<br />And a support weapon.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">The German support weapon was a heavy machine gun. The Belgians had a shiny new trench mortar. One of these would prove much more useful than the other, and indeed probably decided the outcome of the game. But more of that later...<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91owNQ84II/AAAAAAAABTY/EZiMwL7kJq4/s1600-h/10+German+Entry.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91owNQ84II/AAAAAAAABTY/EZiMwL7kJq4/s400/10+German+Entry.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178410323949707394" border="0" /></a>So the game began. The Germans entered the fray, tightly-bunched and looking very orderly.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91ordQ84HI/AAAAAAAABTQ/bN942cWvAtQ/s1600-h/11+Belgian+Entry.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91ordQ84HI/AAAAAAAABTQ/bN942cWvAtQ/s400/11+Belgian+Entry.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178410242345328754" border="0" /></a>And the Belgians staggered on, in a somewhat more casual fashion.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91omdQ84GI/AAAAAAAABTI/GF_IkW22qmM/s1600-h/12+Mortar+sets+up.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91omdQ84GI/AAAAAAAABTI/GF_IkW22qmM/s400/12+Mortar+sets+up.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178410156445982818" border="0" /></a>First order of business for me was to find a suitable spot to set up my mortar. Nice and safe behind some rocks. The spotter for the mortar can be seen off to the left in the middle distance.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91ogdQ84FI/AAAAAAAABTA/0v9E9Skyia8/s1600-h/13+German+MG.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91ogdQ84FI/AAAAAAAABTA/0v9E9Skyia8/s400/13+German+MG.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178410053366767698" border="0" /></a>While I was doing this, the Germans had quickly advanced and set up their HMG to cover the open space in the middle of the village.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91oXdQ84EI/AAAAAAAABS4/W6HqlBXKkuQ/s1600-h/14+Contact+at+the+Village.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91oXdQ84EI/AAAAAAAABS4/W6HqlBXKkuQ/s400/14+Contact+at+the+Village.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178409898747945026" border="0" /></a>I had split the rest of my force into two wings. On the right the veteran askaris and the irregulars took up a defensive position on the edge of the village, to observe and hopefully hold off the enemy. Shots were exchanged but they didn't amount to anything much.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91oRNQ84DI/AAAAAAAABSw/bE2FhDY1B6c/s1600-h/15+First+to+the+Helena.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91oRNQ84DI/AAAAAAAABSw/bE2FhDY1B6c/s400/15+First+to+the+Helena.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178409791373762610" border="0" /></a>While on the left Van Driscoles and the trained askaris headed for the <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Helena</span>, which they reached unmolested by the enemy.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91oJtQ84CI/AAAAAAAABSo/v2kDyb2TAEg/s1600-h/16+Impending+disaster.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91oJtQ84CI/AAAAAAAABSo/v2kDyb2TAEg/s400/16+Impending+disaster.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178409662524743714" border="0" /></a>But this good news was not much on my mind. For back at the village, the full force of the enemy was bearing down on my weak position, and to make things worse I was in danger of being outflanked on my extreme right. This position was obviously untenable. Should I sacrifice these men to buy time for Van Driscoles to find the map?<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91oE9Q84BI/AAAAAAAABSg/-8d7HoRph80/s1600-h/17+Belgian+redeployment.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91oE9Q84BI/AAAAAAAABSg/-8d7HoRph80/s400/17+Belgian+redeployment.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178409580920365074" border="0" /></a>Nah, that ain't my style. The askari were hastily redeployed...<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91n8tQ84AI/AAAAAAAABSY/W6M8XTQwjns/s1600-h/18+Mortar+hits.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91n8tQ84AI/AAAAAAAABSY/W6M8XTQwjns/s400/18+Mortar+hits.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178409439186444290" border="0" /></a>And fire was provided by the mortar to cover their retreat. It missed its target (the Maxim gun), but the wide shot fell amongst a nearby unit, causing casualties, mayhem and havoc, and also pinning a unit of askaris (The poker chips and white flag represent suppressions and pinned status respectively).<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91n2tQ83_I/AAAAAAAABSQ/lkn75Tzj7pk/s1600-h/19+Mortar+hits+II.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91n2tQ83_I/AAAAAAAABSQ/lkn75Tzj7pk/s400/19+Mortar+hits+II.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178409336107229170" border="0" /></a>Mortar rounds continued to plunge into the village...<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91nw9Q83-I/AAAAAAAABSI/1Z9O8r0sHzE/s1600-h/19+Retreat.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91nw9Q83-I/AAAAAAAABSI/1Z9O8r0sHzE/s400/19+Retreat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178409237322981346" border="0" /></a>...Giving my forces a chance to pull back to a more defensible location.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91nmtQ839I/AAAAAAAABSA/TfvnmjMvqEU/s1600-h/20+Van+Driscoles+saves+the+day.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91nmtQ839I/AAAAAAAABSA/TfvnmjMvqEU/s400/20+Van+Driscoles+saves+the+day.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178409061229322194" border="0" /></a>But back at the <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Helena</span> things were also going badly. Van Driscoles had boarded the remains of the steamer alone to search for the map. Spotting this, my opponent had sent his Ruga Ruga over to deal with him. Things looked black for the Belgian. But being a hero, he calmly stepped up and emptied his shotgun into them. Then, standing upon the deck, he calmly reloaded and opened up on them again. His high initiative rating (thanks to being a hero and having the 'Tactician' skill) and the luck of the cards, allowed him to get two shots off without reply.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91nhNQ838I/AAAAAAAABR4/vd7eSXhky1w/s1600-h/21+Flight+of+the+Ruga+Ruga.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91nhNQ838I/AAAAAAAABR4/vd7eSXhky1w/s400/21+Flight+of+the+Ruga+Ruga.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178408966740041666" border="0" /></a>Which sent the Ruga Ruga scurrying away. They never managed to regain their nerve, and eventually legged it all the way off the table.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91nctQ837I/AAAAAAAABRw/9g3jpkJWA0A/s1600-h/22+Germans+take+the+village.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91nctQ837I/AAAAAAAABRw/9g3jpkJWA0A/s400/22+Germans+take+the+village.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178408889430630322" border="0" /></a>Meanwhile the Germans advanced through the village, past the positions recently vacated by their foe.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91nYdQ836I/AAAAAAAABRo/IN6n7vAjY3o/s1600-h/23+Defensive+position.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91nYdQ836I/AAAAAAAABRo/IN6n7vAjY3o/s400/23+Defensive+position.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178408816416186274" border="0" /></a>Who had retreated to the nearby cover of some rock outcrops, and resolved to sell their lives dearly.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91nT9Q835I/AAAAAAAABRg/ON-dK1a9zws/s1600-h/24+Cunning+plan.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91nT9Q835I/AAAAAAAABRg/ON-dK1a9zws/s400/24+Cunning+plan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178408739106774930" border="0" /></a>Now it became clear what my opponent's plan was. He was going to leave me to find the map and treasure now, but was moving to cut off my exit area. I would have to fight my way past the Germans to get the gold back to the Congo.<br /><br />At this point I offered to call a truce and split the money with him, but he was having none of it. Fool.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91nPNQ834I/AAAAAAAABRY/vyhLyt9k96s/s1600-h/25+Last+Hurrah.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91nPNQ834I/AAAAAAAABRY/vyhLyt9k96s/s400/25+Last+Hurrah.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178408657502396290" border="0" /></a>But his veteran askaris, spotting my irregulars taking cover in a nearby patch of brush, couldn't resist advancing to test their skills with the bayonet. Surely they could beat these badly-armed raw troops? Well no, as it happens. Thanks to superior numbers, and some abysmal dice-rolling on Sickers' part (he was plagued with unluck throughout the fight, it must be said) the irregulars eventually triumphed, after a mammoth fight that seemed to last an age. They lost but a single man, and took one of the enemy askari prisoner.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91nI9Q833I/AAAAAAAABRQ/1qDW3eVdktk/s1600-h/26+Dig+for+the+treasure.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91nI9Q833I/AAAAAAAABRQ/1qDW3eVdktk/s400/26+Dig+for+the+treasure.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178408550128213874" border="0" /></a>Back now from the <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Helena</span> (and having found the map), Van Driscoles set the porters to work. Turns out the payroll was buried beneath the fake grave after all.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91nCtQ832I/AAAAAAAABRI/kGBeKGtb9P4/s1600-h/27+German+Retreat.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91nCtQ832I/AAAAAAAABRI/kGBeKGtb9P4/s400/27+German+Retreat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178408442754031458" border="0" /></a>At this point, after seeing their best troops humbled by, let's face it, a gang of armed hobos, the Germans lost heart. They had been taking gradual losses from rifle and mortar fire, and realised they could no longer really contest the issue. So they began to pull back, and I was happy to let them go.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91m9tQ831I/AAAAAAAABRA/_nXV5YxzQeY/s1600-h/28+Found+the+Payroll.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91m9tQ831I/AAAAAAAABRA/_nXV5YxzQeY/s400/28+Found+the+Payroll.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178408356854685522" border="0" /></a>So after some hard digging, the sacks filled with gold were uncovered. Victory to Brave Little Belgium! Hurrah!<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91m39Q830I/AAAAAAAABQ4/6B6ArFlIZYE/s1600-h/29+Belgian+Heroes.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91m39Q830I/AAAAAAAABQ4/6B6ArFlIZYE/s400/29+Belgian+Heroes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178408258070437698" border="0" /></a>The prize of <span style="font-weight: bold;">Best in Show</span> or at least an <span style="font-weight: bold;">Honourable Mention</span> must go to the Belgian irregulars. Raw troops armed only with muskets, they managed to see off the best the Schutztruppe had to offer. Good for them. Now my Ruga Ruga, whatever rule system we have used, have almost always performed extremely poorly. But these newly-painted figures, given exactly the same stats, behaved like heroes. I think those particular Ruga Ruga figures are just cursed. They must be.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Final Tally<br /></span>The Germans lost 21 killed and wounded, one captured. Miraculously, the only Belgian loss was one irregular musket man killed, who was cut down during the famous melee.<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><br /><br />So that was <span style="font-weight: bold;">Triumph and Tragedy</span>. I must say I was very impressed with these rules. The innovative card system, while being a slight pain in that you need to print out a unique card for each and every unit, I think is well worth the effort. All in one place you are able to keep track of which units have acted in a turn, who has the initiative, and the stats of the currently-acting unit. And the idea of selecting the order in which your units act by the way you stack the deck is great. It forces you to prioritise your force's actions, which can lead to some tricky decision-making. And the more decisions you have to make, the more involved you feel in the game, at least that's how I feel. I shall definitely be playing these rules again.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">In retrospect, perhaps the Belgians had too much of an advantage with the mortar versus the HMG. But to be fair, it never actually hit anything it aimed at. All of the casualties it caused were the results of extremely lucky (or unlucky from a German perspective) deviation rolls. The German MG never seemed to find itself in a good place to fire (mostly because I ran away from it whenever possible) and I think it only fired for one turn in the whole game. On the other hand, the spotter for the mortar was constantly on the move (within his allowed limits) trying to find things for his parent unit to shoot at, which meant that they got off four or five good shots, about half of which caused absolute (and accidental) devastation.<br /></div><br />Sometimes the dice just don't love you, Sickers...<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91mv9Q83zI/AAAAAAAABQw/Lm8Z3VD-3is/s1600-h/30+Laminating.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R91mv9Q83zI/AAAAAAAABQw/Lm8Z3VD-3is/s400/30+Laminating.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178408120631484210" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">I don't think I'm about to give up<span style="font-weight: bold;"> Price of Glory</span> for my existing (and planned) Great War campaigns, because I really like it. But there's plenty of room for more than one game in our gaming circle, and I think T&T is perfect as an alternative to <span style="font-weight: bold;">In the Heart of Africa</span> (which I do like, but not as much as this) for Darkest Africa games. I think it is also well-suited to side-shows such as the Great War in Africa, and more Pulpish and not-quite-historical games like the one described here.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">So that would be a definite thumbs-up from me and Sickers (and I'm not just saying that because <span class="mediumtext">Björn and Chris are fellow LAFers).</span><br /></div><span class="mediumtext"><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="mediumtext">The figures used were mostly Copplestone, Foundry and Brigade, while the Belgian trench mortar and crew were conversions based on Old Glory figures. The <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Kaiserin Helena</span> </span>is a John Jenkins model (um, I think so, any road), and the village came from Grand Manner.</span><br /></div><span class="mediumtext"><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="mediumtext">Thanks to </span><span class="mediumtext">Björn for the freebie copy of the rules, and </span><span class="mediumtext">Björn and Christian for answering my queries and general botherments about the rules. We were play testing a provisional rules amendment for the game, but unfortunately the situation it covered didn't arise during our game. Oh well, I guess that means we don't get paid. Never mind.</span><br /></div><span class="mediumtext"><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="mediumtext">If you're interested in Triumph and Tragedy, there is a website:<br /><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.triumph-tragedy.de/index.html">triumph-tragedy.de</a><br /><br /></span><span class="mediumtext">And the authors can be found hanging around on Alex Bews' forum, where they indeed have their own board:<br /><a href="http://forum.backofbeyond.de/"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lead Adventure Forum</span></a></span><br /></div><br /><span class="mediumtext">They are very helpful in responding to rules questions and the like, and a quick response is usually forthcoming. All in all a great bunch of lads. To be honest, what with them, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Iron Ivan's</span> Chal and Keith, and the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Rattrap</span> gang of ne'er-do-wells, I'm starting to expect this kind of service. So if you are a games designer who doesn't like being bothered in the middle of the night with stupid, brainless rules questions, then I don't think I shall be buying your game, thank you very much.</span><br /><br /><span class="mediumtext">That's it for now, ta ta.</span></div>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-77446011418648222072007-11-27T15:52:00.000+00:002007-11-28T23:21:33.082+00:00Niles von Crane's Flying Circus!<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0w-CdLfSQI/AAAAAAAABMg/rmOvSRM1D0Y/s1600-h/01+Wings+of+War.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0w-CdLfSQI/AAAAAAAABMg/rmOvSRM1D0Y/s400/01+Wings+of+War.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137549486836369666" border="0" /></a>Friday night brought a slightly different style of gaming session to normal. It was all straight-out-of-the-box gaming. No painting for weeks and weeks only to end up disillusioned with the average-looking results of your hard toil, no crappy-looking almost-suitable terrain (well, not much), just lovely prepackaged gaming delights with an absolute minimum of effort. It's a lazy boy's dream, and the future of gaming, boys and girls!<br /><br />Just don't tell the gang at <a href="http://forum.backofbeyond.de/"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lead Adventure</span></a>, lest they burn me as a heretic!<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0w99NLfSPI/AAAAAAAABMY/BcXeRdyzP9M/s1600-h/02+Chrono+et+fils.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0w99NLfSPI/AAAAAAAABMY/BcXeRdyzP9M/s400/02+Chrono+et+fils.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137549396642056434" border="0" /></a>First up was the rather delightful, and newly-acquired <span style="font-weight: bold;">Wings of War</span>. Here we see <span style="font-style: italic;">Chronoglide et Fils</span>. Chrono is doing his best to look windswept and moody (but I think he's coming over more just as grumpy) for the camera, while Fils is engaged in Brain Training or something.<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0w94NLfSOI/AAAAAAAABMQ/yUnoqva4czw/s1600-h/03+dogfight.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0w94NLfSOI/AAAAAAAABMQ/yUnoqva4czw/s400/03+dogfight.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137549310742710498" border="0" /></a>...And they're off. It's the Red Baron, failing completely to line up his shots on the enemy. There was a lot of this kind of thing. The business of having to think three moves out in advance is heaps of fun, makes for much tension and excitement, and is generally a grand idea. But it does mean, with novices like us at any rate, that you spend a lot of time flying around in confused circles not shooting at anything. Or randomly shooting at someone who unexpectedly pops up in front of you who you weren't expecting to shoot at all.<br /><br />Still, one suspects that the real thing may have been a little like that. For everybody except the top aces, at any rate.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0w90NLfSNI/AAAAAAAABMI/0AQCfvkF-EQ/s1600-h/04+Red+baron.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0w90NLfSNI/AAAAAAAABMI/0AQCfvkF-EQ/s400/04+Red+baron.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137549242023233746" border="0" /></a>That's more like it. Take that, Englander! <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">DAKKA! DAKKA! DAKKA! DAKKA!</span> You have to make the gun noises or your shots don't count, it says so in the rules.<br /><br />Notice my hastily-improvised playing area, cobbled together from felt, canvas and leathercloth. So rubbish home-made scenery was not entirely absent after all.<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0w9vdLfSMI/AAAAAAAABMA/dVEccGjelow/s1600-h/05+dogfight+number+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0w9vdLfSMI/AAAAAAAABMA/dVEccGjelow/s400/05+dogfight+number+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137549160418855106" border="0" /></a>We had two games, both times with Wakey and me as the Allies, and Sickers and Chrono the Central Powers. Chrono got shot down the very first time he was fired at by Wakey (which was funny), and mostly due to luck I eventually brought Sickly down in a seething ball of flame.<br /><br />In the second game my Belgian accidentally flew his Camel off the map (what an idiot!), and then the two Dr.Is rapidly devoured poor Wakey (Those Dreideckers with their tight turns are nasty little bleeders).<br /><br />But because I never got shot down, I guess the Allies won overall on points (4-3). A bit like the war itself, really.<br /><br />So that was <span style="font-weight: bold;">Wings of War</span>. Great fun, one to get out after Christmas Dinner, when everyone is getting tired, 'toxicated, and tetchy, I reckon. Might get one of the other boxes to add to the rules complexity and scenario options at some point.<br /><br /><br />Next it was: A <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Dungeons and Dragons</span> ride!<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0w9o9LfSLI/AAAAAAAABL4/9XKGZMB1C9Y/s1600-h/06+Dnd+set.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0w9o9LfSLI/AAAAAAAABL4/9XKGZMB1C9Y/s400/06+Dnd+set.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137549048749705394" border="0" /></a>Yes, the D&D board game. Seems to me the ideal way to play the game. I cut my role-playing teeth on the excellent <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Call of Cthulhu</span>, so have no fond teenage memories of "Steal the Monsters and kill their treasure"-gaming like some other people have. Never quite saw the point in it, after atmospheric games with characters, a terrifying ambiance and an actual plot. But this is the ideal way to experience such dubious entertainment. Nicely packaged with high production values, and the plot (such as it is) already worked out for the GM (I'm not a DM, I'm a GM. Dungeon Master? Who wants to play a game where you just guard a bunch of prisoners? Well, maybe if they were sexy lady tennis-player prisoners in their knickers, but that's a whole other matter...)<br /><br />Wakey bought me this as a gift ages ago, and though Sickers and his elder brother had played it, the gang as a whole hadn't touched it before. So now was the time.<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0w9lNLfSKI/AAAAAAAABLw/q-eIOlimNn4/s1600-h/07+Dnd+game.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0w9lNLfSKI/AAAAAAAABLw/q-eIOlimNn4/s400/07+Dnd+game.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137548984325195938" border="0" /></a>It was all good, old-fashioned fun, and I think everybody enjoyed it. It was a raid on a Goblin lair, the naughty inhabitants of which had kidnapped the local mayor or something. Bish, bash, bosh. Lots of hitting things, casting spells, laughing at the Thief's complete ineptitude concerning spotting hidden traps, and finally a nice healthy dose of bickering over treasure. You get the idea. We'll probably continue with this on those occasions when nobody has met their painting deadline. A nice change from the norm of tedious painted-figure gaming. All the monster-killing, treasure-hunting, trap-setting off fun of D&D without having to keep up the ludicrous pretence that one is role-playing.<br /><br />So, an enjoyable evening, particularly <span style="font-style: italic;">Wings of War</span> for me. It's got me really looking forward to the new Red Baron picture that is supposed to be imminent. Though I do think the producers of that one have missed a trick. There is only one actor for this role: David Hyde Pierce. He's the spit of old Manfred, I tell you.<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0w9fdLfSJI/AAAAAAAABLo/xO0go7nCBMg/s1600-h/08+Niles+and+Manfred.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0w9fdLfSJI/AAAAAAAABLo/xO0go7nCBMg/s400/08+Niles+and+Manfred.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137548885540948114" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Manfred von Crane and Niles Richthofen. Can you tell which is which?</span></span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">See? Uncanny, isn't it? You absolutely can't tell which is which, can you? Don't say you can because you can't. If you say you can then you're just a bloody big liar. Stop lying! What are you lying for? Don't you know lying is bad? Stop it now! I sha'n't tell you again...<br /></div>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-68591570010243712082007-11-27T15:49:00.000+00:002007-11-28T23:27:45.130+00:00There's only one Gil Gerard, Browder, and it ain't you!<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yB09LfSpI/AAAAAAAABPo/m8lXFm6iiZ4/s1600-h/01+buck.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yB09LfSpI/AAAAAAAABPo/m8lXFm6iiZ4/s400/01+buck.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137624021698824850" border="0" /></a>My good friend Chronoglide is a big fan of <span style="font-weight: bold;">Farscape</span>. Personally I have always thought of it as "Buck Rogers meets the Muppets", only with truckloads of added tedium, as Buck Rogers and the Muppets together in reality would be brilliant. But he likes it. Bless. So it was inevitable that at some point he was going to want to game it on the tabletop. As I had yet again failed to provide anything for us to play, I reluctantly agreed to this misguided scheme. So that's what we did.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBx9LfSoI/AAAAAAAABPg/y8XQpZQDjGg/s1600-h/02+Chrono+and+Wakey.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBx9LfSoI/AAAAAAAABPg/y8XQpZQDjGg/s400/02+Chrono+and+Wakey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137623970159217282" border="0" /></a>Here he is setting up his little show, while in the background Wakey fills himself full of Caffeine in order to stay awake. He's obviously seen Farscape before!<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBttLfSnI/AAAAAAAABPY/0iZLTkiGU48/s1600-h/03+5150.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBttLfSnI/AAAAAAAABPY/0iZLTkiGU48/s400/03+5150.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137623897144773234" border="0" /></a>Chrono's rules set of choice for the evening was something called 5150, which I had heard Sci-Fi nerds on TMP jabbering on about in the past, but I was totally unfamiliar with it myself.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBndLfSmI/AAAAAAAABPQ/BOnzz1zWpUQ/s1600-h/04+The+heroes+arrive.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBndLfSmI/AAAAAAAABPQ/BOnzz1zWpUQ/s400/04+The+heroes+arrive.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137623789770590818" border="0" /></a>We were to have only one character each. Ooh, very RPG. This type of thing is all the rage these days, what with <span style="font-weight: bold;">.45 Adventure</span>, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Gloire</span> and all that. Thankfully, neither the preposterous Wookee Klingon nor any of the Muppets would be taking part in this adventure. But three of the heroes of the show were to land on a lawless planet in order to procure much-needed spare parts to repair their damaged mother ship, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Moya</span>.<br /><br />(That shuttle pod of theirs looks familiar. If it is a consular ship, then <span style="font-style: italic;">where</span> is the ambassador, eh?)<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBhNLfSlI/AAAAAAAABPI/X40Ic9hNLYA/s1600-h/05+moya.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBhNLfSlI/AAAAAAAABPI/X40Ic9hNLYA/s400/05+moya.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137623682396408402" border="0" /></a>A picture of<span style="font-weight: bold;"> Moya</span>, just so we know what we're all fighting for. At least I think that's the right Moya. I wasn't sure so I used Google Images.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Hmm. Is that right? Tell you what, why not <a href="http://images.google.co.uk/images?client=firefox-a&channel=s&rls=org.mozilla%3Aen-GB%3Aofficial&hl=en&q=moya&btnG=Search+Images&gbv=2">check for yourself?</a><br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBcdLfSkI/AAAAAAAABPA/Y6_jZaW2Ln8/s1600-h/06+Gil+wannabe.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBcdLfSkI/AAAAAAAABPA/Y6_jZaW2Ln8/s400/06+Gil+wannabe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137623600792029762" border="0" /></a>So, the characters involved: As I said, it wasn't the complete cast, just enough for us to have one each. Sickers played pale Buck Rogers imitation, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Crichton</span>, human astronaut suddenly propelled into a frightening new Muppet-filled galaxy, or something. In our gang it is the law to refer to him as Gil Gerard, or just Gil, though this really does a great disservice to that truly great actor from the 80s.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBWdLfSjI/AAAAAAAABO4/NLOUzixkSWw/s1600-h/07+Chiana.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBWdLfSjI/AAAAAAAABO4/NLOUzixkSWw/s400/07+Chiana.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137623497712814642" border="0" /></a>Wakey was playing <span style="font-weight: bold;">Chiana</span>, a sort of light grey alien lass with Halle Berry's cast-off hair from X-Men.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBSdLfSiI/AAAAAAAABOw/PCFennqSCMY/s1600-h/08+Claudia.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBSdLfSiI/AAAAAAAABOw/PCFennqSCMY/s400/08+Claudia.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137623428993337890" border="0" /></a>While I played sultry ex-Peacekeeper turned renegade, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Aeryn Sun</span>. I can tell you want me. Stop staring at my right boob, you lecherous dogs!<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBM9LfShI/AAAAAAAABOo/5p4Ph6thEDM/s1600-h/09+Beginnings.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBM9LfShI/AAAAAAAABOo/5p4Ph6thEDM/s400/09+Beginnings.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137623334504057362" border="0" /></a>So there we were, newly-arrived on planet Numberwang, in search of a second-hand de-nobbulator or Gayon-frottage-attachment or something. So we set off for the market district, but unfortunately fell foul of the local culture. Apparently there are very strict rules of behavior between the various guilds, gangs and other factions here, and the locals police themselves without recourse to any official law enforcement. But unfortunately for us anything goes as far as outsiders are concerned.<br /><br />So we were soon set upon by the local riff-raff.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBHNLfSgI/AAAAAAAABOg/6bna5zUq6RM/s1600-h/10+Fake+die-rolling.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBHNLfSgI/AAAAAAAABOg/6bna5zUq6RM/s400/10+Fake+die-rolling.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137623235719809538" border="0" /></a>So the dice were soon rolling, and laser blasts (or whatever they call them in Farscape) were flying about all over the place.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBAtLfSfI/AAAAAAAABOY/4fRagFnCYDo/s1600-h/11+Boosh.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yBAtLfSfI/AAAAAAAABOY/4fRagFnCYDo/s400/11+Boosh.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137623124050659826" border="0" /></a>Here's me, shooting a hoodlum, and blowing most of the special effects budget in one go.<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yA89LfSeI/AAAAAAAABOQ/gnqGy5c9jlw/s1600-h/12+Clean-up.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yA89LfSeI/AAAAAAAABOQ/gnqGy5c9jlw/s400/12+Clean-up.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137623059626150370" border="0" /></a>After a brisk firefight, we had dealt with the delinquents. All either dead, retired hurt or run off. A few polite enquiries told us that we needed to speak to a trader known as Honest Jangwed who had a warehouse full of Moya bits on the other side of town.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">So off we went. Here's a part of the game that was rather cool. We immediately stepped into the next episode, all ready set up on another part of the table. Having a game made up of several small vignette encounters like this is something new to me, and I like it. You tend not to get bored so like with a big old fight dragging on all night all across the big table (that's a terrible indictment of our attention-spans these days, ain't it?). This kind of thing would fit in sweetly with .45 Adventure and Gloire I reckon. Don't know if it is part of the whole 5150 thing, or if Chrono made it up himself, but it is a refreshing new thing to me. I like refreshing new things.<br /></div> </div><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yA3tLfSdI/AAAAAAAABOI/noDLoAQIL0Q/s1600-h/13+Honest+Jengwangs.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yA3tLfSdI/AAAAAAAABOI/noDLoAQIL0Q/s400/13+Honest+Jengwangs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137622969431837138" border="0" /></a>Later, on the other side of town: We found the area of Jangwed's warehouse, but unfortunately there were lots of unfriendly-looking security types around.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yAxNLfScI/AAAAAAAABOA/hFb20ptaokQ/s1600-h/14+The+approach.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yAxNLfScI/AAAAAAAABOA/hFb20ptaokQ/s400/14+The+approach.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137622857762687426" border="0" /></a>It was decided that I would approach them openly, and try to negotiate an audience with Jangwed. In case things went awry, the others would sneak around the side, ready to launch into action at a moment's notice...<br /><br />Predictably, things did go awry, almost immediately. Aeryn is used to getting her own way, and the guards, thinking she was a Peacekeeper, weren't really in the mood to cooperate. This combined to create an atmosphere of tension and mistrust. Talks broke down, and they ordered her to drop her weapon and lie down on the ground.<br /><br />Her response?<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yAqNLfSbI/AAAAAAAABN4/FxhF99S4tfQ/s1600-h/15+Voosh.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yAqNLfSbI/AAAAAAAABN4/FxhF99S4tfQ/s400/15+Voosh.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137622737503603122" border="0" /></a>... Predictably violent.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yAj9LfSaI/AAAAAAAABNw/TTPLlE7igBs/s1600-h/16+Doosh.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yAj9LfSaI/AAAAAAAABNw/TTPLlE7igBs/s400/16+Doosh.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137622630129420706" border="0" /></a>Chiana chimed in, too. She might as well, as she hadn't done much up to now.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yAdtLfSZI/AAAAAAAABNo/gLEeUe5Jnyg/s1600-h/17+Mummy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yAdtLfSZI/AAAAAAAABNo/gLEeUe5Jnyg/s400/17+Mummy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137622522755238290" border="0" /></a>This resulted in one guard taken out, and another one grovelling in a puddle of his own wee. More guards turned up, but they weren't up to much, and eventually scarpered, leaving their boss in our clutches. We held him upside down and shook him until the shock absorbers or brake pads for Moya fell out.<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yAYtLfSYI/AAAAAAAABNg/BqoE3-ndw5Q/s1600-h/18+The+Return.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yAYtLfSYI/AAAAAAAABNg/BqoE3-ndw5Q/s400/18+The+Return.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137622436855892354" border="0" /></a>Back to the landing pod then. But what's this?<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yAUNLfSXI/AAAAAAAABNY/dsl2vbrm3D4/s1600-h/19+Bloody+peacekeepers.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yAUNLfSXI/AAAAAAAABNY/dsl2vbrm3D4/s400/19+Bloody+peacekeepers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137622359546481010" border="0" /></a>Bad guys, hanging around outside our ship?<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yAONLfSWI/AAAAAAAABNQ/vsPl84FaD_I/s1600-h/20+Peacekeeper+lady.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yAONLfSWI/AAAAAAAABNQ/vsPl84FaD_I/s400/20+Peacekeeper+lady.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137622256467265890" border="0" /></a>Oh no! Peacekeepers! Led by a PVC-clad lady Peacekeeper armed with a dangerously low-cut top and fully-loaded cleavage! This isn't good. We'd been fighting cowardly nobodies up to now. These baddies were the real deal. And they were after us! I had totally forgotten that we were wanted renegades! How could that slip my mind?<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yAJtLfSVI/AAAAAAAABNI/b5vfuQexwZs/s1600-h/21+Peacekeeper+advance.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yAJtLfSVI/AAAAAAAABNI/b5vfuQexwZs/s400/21+Peacekeeper+advance.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137622179157854546" border="0" /></a>As they advanced, Gil Gerard, hero that he is, hid in a tent. Chiana hid behind a tent, only Aeryn (that's me remember) was brave enough to face these fearsome soldiers.<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yAE9LfSUI/AAAAAAAABNA/0VwHYtOKnHg/s1600-h/22+Oof.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0yAE9LfSUI/AAAAAAAABNA/0VwHYtOKnHg/s400/22+Oof.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137622097553475906" border="0" /></a>Or stupid enough. Aeryn was promptly shot, and went down in a heap.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0x__9LfSTI/AAAAAAAABM4/zv-jQHKlh64/s1600-h/23+Aha.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0x__9LfSTI/AAAAAAAABM4/zv-jQHKlh64/s400/23+Aha.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137622011654129970" border="0" /></a>The lady peacekeeper came over to gloat and then... A-ha! Aeryn had been shamming!<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0x_8NLfSSI/AAAAAAAABMw/w0zBiH9FZu8/s1600-h/24+lez+up.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0x_8NLfSSI/AAAAAAAABMw/w0zBiH9FZu8/s400/24+lez+up.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137621947229620514" border="0" /></a>The very last of the special effects money went on this shot, as you can probably tell. Aeryn brought the chief baddy down, and she wasn't shamming. She was, though, still alive.<br /><br />With their leader gone, most of the rest ran off, the remainder were ruthlessly gunned down. So our heroes made it back to Moya, complete with a sexy prisoner, who Aeryn took charge of.<br /><br />So what happened next?<br /><br />Well, this year Moya made it to the Quarter Finals of <a href="http://www.fft.fr/rolandgarros/"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Roland Garros</span></a> before losing to Rafael Nadal, Gil continued his regular guest spot on <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Sesame Street: The Next Generation</span>, while Chiana had to give Storm her hair back in time for <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">X-Men: The Last Stand</span>. And as for Aeryn and the Peacekeeper chick? What of them?<br /><br />In the immortal words of Stu and Rich ...<span style="font-style: italic;"> And then they Lez Up.<br /><br /><br /><br /></span> <div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">****<br /><br /><br /></span></span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span>In some ways the game was a triumph (which is odd, as Chronoglide was running it), short bursts of excitement make for a good gaming experience and we all took to 5150 pretty well. It's a nice system, all the reaction checks are lots of fun, and I certainly wouldn't mind playing it again.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>But this is exactly where it all fell down as a simulation of Farscape. Where was the headache-inducing tedium, eh? (Seriously, Farscape almost always gives me a headache). Where was the despair, irritation, the turning over halfway through to see what's happening in (God forbid) Hollyoaks?<br /><br />So in short, the experiment was a complete failure. If we are to try and do any more Farscape gaming in future, may I suggest we use a game system that is known not to produce fun, such as<span style="font-weight: bold;"> DBM</span> or<span style="font-weight: bold;"> Phoenix Command</span>?<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /></span></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0x_3tLfSRI/AAAAAAAABMo/7vfUOG436gU/s1600-h/25+Buck+and+thingy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/R0x_3tLfSRI/AAAAAAAABMo/7vfUOG436gU/s400/25+Buck+and+thingy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137621869920209170" border="0" /></a>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-78696804801331747572007-10-09T10:49:00.000+01:002007-10-10T12:04:52.743+01:00The Mussey-la-Ville Road (including the Return of the Fog Machine!)<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQqFDKy0I/AAAAAAAABLA/78KhpfhXAl4/s1600-h/01+Title+piece.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQqFDKy0I/AAAAAAAABLA/78KhpfhXAl4/s400/01+Title+piece.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119274085276896066" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">22nd August 1914, later </span><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://misterplynkes.blogspot.com/2007/10/contact-in-fog-with-real-fog.html">that same morning</a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">. The Lorraine countryside is still shrouded in fog. Having linked up with the rest of his platoon, Lt. Rommel orders them to halt as he scouts ahead to the outskirts of Bleid with three men. In the poor visibility he blunders into a group of French infantrymen resting by the side of the road. </span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQqVDKy1I/AAAAAAAABLI/af5c5EICEzo/s1600-h/02+layout.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQqVDKy1I/AAAAAAAABLI/af5c5EICEzo/s400/02+layout.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119274089571863378" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The layout of the game. The fog machine sits nervously waiting at one end for a chance to redeem itself.<br /><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQqlDKy2I/AAAAAAAABLQ/T1u0S4SvJuw/s1600-h/03+Rommel%27s+Scouting+Party.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQqlDKy2I/AAAAAAAABLQ/T1u0S4SvJuw/s400/03+Rommel%27s+Scouting+Party.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119274093866830690" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Rommel's small force started at the windmill. The variable attachment they had rolled from the scenario was a squad of infantry coming to support them on turn four, entering from the northern table edge.<br /><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQqlDKy3I/AAAAAAAABLY/Xb-ruiSL-EU/s1600-h/04+French+Soldiers.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQqlDKy3I/AAAAAAAABLY/Xb-ruiSL-EU/s400/04+French+Soldiers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119274093866830706" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The French soldiers, resting by the road. Their variable attachment was the ability to act on turn five. In reality Rommel stumbled right into them and started blazing away, and normally they wouldn't be able to act until attacked by the Germans. Their attachment put their destiny back into their own hands a little.<br /><br />To win the French need to capture or kill Rommel or his sergeant, or survive to the end of the game with twelve unbroken and uninjured men. The Germans simply have to prevent this.<br /><br /><br /></span> <div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >SPECIAL RULE</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div> </div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQelDKyzI/AAAAAAAABK4/GEp_JpoDlDc/s1600-h/04b+Rommel+screamy+cry.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQelDKyzI/AAAAAAAABK4/GEp_JpoDlDc/s200/04b+Rommel+screamy+cry.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119273887708400434" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Yeah, the whole cricket thing again. You probably know the drill by now.<br /></span><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQZ1DKyxI/AAAAAAAABKo/zXZswnus0NY/s1600-h/05+The+Fog.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQZ1DKyxI/AAAAAAAABKo/zXZswnus0NY/s400/05+The+Fog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119273806104021778" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So the game began with Rommel cautiously creeping forward in the fog, towards the unsuspecting Frenchmen.<br /><br />Did I say fog? Hurrah! As inexplicably as its refusal to work the day before, now the fog machine was working perfectly! Bravo, Foggy!<br /><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQaFDKyyI/AAAAAAAABKw/GBLQRAIJ2JA/s1600-h/06+Coming+out+of+the+mist.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQaFDKyyI/AAAAAAAABKw/GBLQRAIJ2JA/s400/06+Coming+out+of+the+mist.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119273810398989090" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">But what's this? More blurry figures in the mist?</span><br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQOFDKysI/AAAAAAAABKA/I0J_jS03IBY/s1600-h/07+Haystacks.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQOFDKysI/AAAAAAAABKA/I0J_jS03IBY/s400/07+Haystacks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119273604240558786" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Yes, Rommel's support, right on time.<br /><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQOVDKytI/AAAAAAAABKI/ZArxk7wNXZc/s1600-h/08+Rommel+arrives.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQOVDKytI/AAAAAAAABKI/ZArxk7wNXZc/s400/08+Rommel+arrives.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119273608535526098" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Hearing French voices in the fog, Rommel elected for caution, heading towards a nearby shed.<br /><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQOVDKyuI/AAAAAAAABKQ/1kM5QXUbV3k/s1600-h/09+Rommel+in+the+shed.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQOVDKyuI/AAAAAAAABKQ/1kM5QXUbV3k/s400/09+Rommel+in+the+shed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119273608535526114" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And then taking cover therein.<br /><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQOlDKyvI/AAAAAAAABKY/dqAsZLly-ao/s1600-h/10+Open+fire.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQOlDKyvI/AAAAAAAABKY/dqAsZLly-ao/s400/10+Open+fire.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119273612830493426" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The German squad took cover among the haystacks, and started firing into the smaller body of Frenchmen.<br /><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQOlDKywI/AAAAAAAABKg/ha-sFvKzpC8/s1600-h/11+French+under+fire.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtQOlDKywI/AAAAAAAABKg/ha-sFvKzpC8/s400/11+French+under+fire.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119273612830493442" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Which quickly had them scurrying for cover.<br /><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: center;"> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtP5FDKynI/AAAAAAAABJY/I6aI8rz7XgE/s1600-h/11a+Defend+the+house.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtP5FDKynI/AAAAAAAABJY/I6aI8rz7XgE/s400/11a+Defend+the+house.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119273243463305842" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Quickly, the other French lads poured into the house to take cover, and took up firing positions at the doors and windows. The house and shed fired ineffectively at one another for a while. The geese didn't seem too bothered to be caught in this fire.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtP5FDKyoI/AAAAAAAABJg/EQ0GSU7_tMc/s1600-h/12+Defend+the+house.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtP5FDKyoI/AAAAAAAABJg/EQ0GSU7_tMc/s400/12+Defend+the+house.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119273243463305858" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This was getting nobody anywhere. The French sergeant had an idea...</span><br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtP5VDKypI/AAAAAAAABJo/eIXhYmUtnZ0/s1600-h/13+charge.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtP5VDKypI/AAAAAAAABJo/eIXhYmUtnZ0/s400/13+charge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119273247758273170" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">He called for his men to leave their cover and take the shed. A rush and a push, a bit of bayonet work and that would be that. Things looked perilous for Rommel, if they made it into contact they would surely overwhelm his little band.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">But no! Despite his frantic squawking, none of the men would budge. They felt too safe in their cover to risk moving in the open under fire. It seemed the moment for French glory had passed.</span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtP5VDKyqI/AAAAAAAABJw/flAymfwGsIk/s1600-h/14+Run+Away.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtP5VDKyqI/AAAAAAAABJw/flAymfwGsIk/s400/14+Run+Away.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119273247758273186" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">For as though punished by the Gods of Battle for their timidity, their fortunes took a decisive turn for the worse. Some incredibly unlikely good shooting from Rommel's scout team brought down some of the defenders of the house. Then, their (dice-rolling) luck now totally deserting them, the French broke and ran.</span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtP5lDKyrI/AAAAAAAABJ4/HIqcGtZOigM/s1600-h/15+Across+the+field.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtP5lDKyrI/AAAAAAAABJ4/HIqcGtZOigM/s400/15+Across+the+field.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119273252053240498" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Rommel quickly signalled to the infantry to advance. With a cheer they dashed across the open ground to the house.<br /><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtPRFDKyiI/AAAAAAAABIw/aK0buwAVG1k/s1600-h/16+Take+the+House.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtPRFDKyiI/AAAAAAAABIw/aK0buwAVG1k/s400/16+Take+the+House.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119272556268538402" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Occupying the ground recently vacated by their foes, they then poured fire on to them...<br /><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtPRVDKyjI/AAAAAAAABI4/ZP4PVuXDByE/s1600-h/17+Panic.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtPRVDKyjI/AAAAAAAABI4/ZP4PVuXDByE/s400/17+Panic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119272560563505714" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">... Causing more casualties and sending them into a headlong rout across the road and into a nearby field.<br /><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtPRVDKykI/AAAAAAAABJA/L5Canw0Pv28/s1600-h/18+On+their+own.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtPRVDKykI/AAAAAAAABJA/L5Canw0Pv28/s400/18+On+their+own.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119272560563505730" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Things looked bleak for the French.<br /><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtPRVDKylI/AAAAAAAABJI/3kHg3Mp8XGo/s1600-h/19+Last+Stand.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtPRVDKylI/AAAAAAAABJI/3kHg3Mp8XGo/s400/19+Last+Stand.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119272560563505746" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Those in the field finally managed to regain their composure, but it was too late, time was up and the Germans had won. The French here were in no state to resist. The way was open for the assault on Bleid...<br /><br />It was most pleasing to see the fog machine work so well. It certainly has redeemed itself, and will definitely be used in the next scenario set on this foggy morning: The assault on Bleid. In an ideal world I'd have someone as a dedicated <span style="font-weight: bold;">Fog Machine Operator</span>, as it fills the table with fog for a short while, but it soon dissipates. You really need a hand on the button at all times, to keep the flow of fog coming. That's why in some pics there seems to be lots of fog, and much less in others. We had to keep interrupting play to make more fog.<br /><br />Still, on the whole I was very pleased with the second outing of the machine.<br /><br />The game itself, while fun, was slightly less satisfying, as it was so one-sided.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">French Casualties:</span><br />Seven Killed<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">German Casualties:</span><br />None<br /><br />This one turned on a handful of flukey die rolls. Rommel's team really had no right to expect to cause so much harm with their shooting, and the French were very, very unlucky to fail the two crucial morale roles which led them to quit the house. I have been thinking that when using these scenarios with Price of Glory, the pretty green French troops really do need to have officers around if they hope to prevail. In the one game where they had officers they did okay, in the other two where they didn't they were soundly beaten. On the other hand, I think even with officers present the die rolls in this game were so in favour of Germany that it may not have made much difference. Except that with good leadership rallying would have been much easier.<br /><br />But speaking as the German player, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Gott</span> really was <span style="font-weight: bold;">Mit Uns </span>this day.<br /><br /></span></div> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtPR1DKymI/AAAAAAAABJQ/e7nzxd4jsGo/s1600-h/20+Gott+Mit+Uns.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwtPR1DKymI/AAAAAAAABJQ/e7nzxd4jsGo/s400/20+Gott+Mit+Uns.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119272569153440354" border="0" /></a>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-34976396279370769622007-10-08T23:32:00.000+01:002007-10-10T12:14:33.823+01:00More Slightly-Gay Star Wars Nonsense, Courtesy of Chronoglide<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwqy-lDKygI/AAAAAAAABIg/U1PcjYNcq0A/s1600-h/01+Squid+Twits.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwqy-lDKygI/AAAAAAAABIg/U1PcjYNcq0A/s400/01+Squid+Twits.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119100714627025410" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">(Admiral Allahu Ackbar! Quite clearly a terrorist, with a name like that. Clicking on pics makes them bigger)</span></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"> <div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Don't worry about the "Slightly-Gay" part of the title, I'm just baiting Chronoglide.</span><br /></div> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />So, Friday night Chrono turned up with more of his childish space-opera junk. Star Wars again, this time a space battle. Following the destruction of their base on Hoth, the scattered Rebel fleet is making its way to a new rendevous. One small convoy of transports, protected by cruisers, is sheltering in an asteroid field near a gas giant, while preparations are made for their next hyperspace jump. At this point an Imperial Squadron shows up to teach the rebel scum a lesson.<br /><br /></span></div><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center;"> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwqy-1DKyhI/AAAAAAAABIo/mmpizsyQXdI/s1600-h/02+Layout.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwqy-1DKyhI/AAAAAAAABIo/mmpizsyQXdI/s400/02+Layout.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119100718921992722" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The playing area: A gas giant surrounded by nasty asteroid belts. The rules we used were the Mongoose Babylon 5 set. I had played them before and enjoyed the game, but this was the first time we had used the Star Wars mod.</span><br /></div> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwqy2VDKybI/AAAAAAAABH4/rXKvRjoPksE/s1600-h/03+Planet.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwqy2VDKybI/AAAAAAAABH4/rXKvRjoPksE/s400/03+Planet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119100572893104562" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I really like Chrono's groovy home-made gas giant. Far out, man.</span><br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwqy2lDKycI/AAAAAAAABIA/6zvuGVnIBMU/s1600-h/04+The+Convoy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwqy2lDKycI/AAAAAAAABIA/6zvuGVnIBMU/s400/04+The+Convoy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119100577188071874" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The transports and their fighter escort (the red counters) prepare to leave the asteroid field. To the right the watchful eyes of the Mon Calamari cruisers are there to keep them safe.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Mon Calamari??!!</span> What a stupid name. Phoned that one in from the Greek restaurant did we, George? What's next? Terror of the Scampi Men? Invasion of the Moules Marinieres?<br /></span></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwqy21DKydI/AAAAAAAABII/jOCpd0MQ0Yo/s1600-h/05+Here+come+the+Baddies.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwqy21DKydI/AAAAAAAABII/jOCpd0MQ0Yo/s400/05+Here+come+the+Baddies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119100581483039186" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Just as all is going smoothly, the bad guys turn up. This Destroyer-thingy comes with a special plot widget, that somehow stops the good guys from making the jump to hyperspace. Something like that, I wasn't really listening.<br /><br /></span> <div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">You have to have such a plot device, or there wouldn't be a game. Ah, the twists and turns of plotting that we have to make once we start making daft shit like this up. Tuh! Science Fiction, eh?<br /><br />To win, the rebels would have to either defeat the Imperial Squadron in combat, or destroy the Hyperspace-blocking doohickey and then make their escape. The Imperials needed to capture or burn as much of the convoy as possible.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div> </div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwqy21DKyeI/AAAAAAAABIQ/phH6Pro6hDs/s1600-h/06+More+Baddies.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwqy21DKyeI/AAAAAAAABIQ/phH6Pro6hDs/s400/06+More+Baddies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119100581483039202" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Here come more bad guys. Four Imperial Frigates, bristling with home-grown nastyness and rented malevolence. I was in command of three of them: The Imperial Vessels</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" > <span style="font-weight: bold;">Useless</span></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">, </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Useful Junk</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> and </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Alien Artifact</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">. They were so named because Chrono had provided no way to distinguish them, so I used some counters I had lying around from <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Doctor Who: Invasion Earth</span>, which happened to have those words printed on them. Actually, I think they make good ship names.</span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwqy3FDKyfI/AAAAAAAABIY/tWTQQwrtu_U/s1600-h/07+Panic.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwqy3FDKyfI/AAAAAAAABIY/tWTQQwrtu_U/s400/07+Panic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119100585778006514" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The Imperial Squadron closes in.<br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwqyalDKyWI/AAAAAAAABHQ/ZXMeoHNgXgI/s1600-h/08+Chase+into+the+Asteroid+field.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwqyalDKyWI/AAAAAAAABHQ/ZXMeoHNgXgI/s400/08+Chase+into+the+Asteroid+field.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119100096151734626" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The transports turned and fled back into the cover of the asteroid field, while the Mon Calamari cruisers turned in a wide circle to attack the baddies. Fire was exchanged, mostly just knocking out shields to begin with.<br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwqyalDKyXI/AAAAAAAABHY/4k4qXSY8khU/s1600-h/09+Pursuit+into+the+field.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwqyalDKyXI/AAAAAAAABHY/4k4qXSY8khU/s400/09+Pursuit+into+the+field.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119100096151734642" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Most of the Frigates pursued the transports into the asteroids, while zillions of little fighters buzzed around the big ships, doing surprisingly little harm and generally just blowing up.<br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwqya1DKyYI/AAAAAAAABHg/Z7pZf2NSVb4/s1600-h/10+Bad+navigating.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwqya1DKyYI/AAAAAAAABHg/Z7pZf2NSVb4/s400/10+Bad+navigating.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119100100446701954" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Unfortunately, the inept crew of <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Useless</span> had not been concentrating. Realising they were about to fly headlong into a very dense patch of asteroids, the emergency order of "All Stop!" had to be issued. She would then have to spend another turn laboriously bringing herself about so as to move around the space-rocks.</span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">As the other Frigates were now out of sight, this meant <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Useless</span> had the full attention of the Mon Calamari cruisers. They pummelled her stupid, until a massive and catastrophic fire engulfed the stricken vessel. Almost the entire crew were instantly fried, and the ship was left as a charred, floating barbeque briquette.</span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Oh, the humanity! All my own stupid fault, of course. Hmm, any volunteers to inform Lord Vader? Anybody? Come on, what's the worst that can happen?</span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwqybFDKyZI/AAAAAAAABHo/osqnFTn1O_E/s1600-h/11+More+Navigation+troubles.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwqybFDKyZI/AAAAAAAABHo/osqnFTn1O_E/s400/11+More+Navigation+troubles.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119100104741669266" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">But the rebels weren't exactly showing themselves to be master navigators, either, with numerous close-calls and brushes with danger. No damage to speak of, though.<br /><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwqybFDKyaI/AAAAAAAABHw/TBhSxK2diws/s1600-h/12+Time+to+call+it+a+night.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwqybFDKyaI/AAAAAAAABHw/TBhSxK2diws/s400/12+Time+to+call+it+a+night.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119100104741669282" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Unfortunately, just as two Frigates were overhauling one of the transports, it became clear that we had run out of time. Fun as it had been, Chrono's scenario had been too big to really fit into the time we had. It had all taken a bit too long, what with all those ships. A shame, really, as it was a good game, and the rules are pretty enjoyable.<br /><br />Typical Chronoglide. You didn't think it through, did you, you big fool?<br /><br />Still, I wouldn't mind playing another game of this some time.<br /><br />By the way, is it just me, or is George Lucas growing to look more and more like Rolf Harris? What do you think? Personally, I think they should've got Rolf to direct the prequels. They certainly could hardly have been any worse...<br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwqyGFDKyUI/AAAAAAAABHA/vYaI8CcZh8I/s1600-h/13+Rolf.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwqyGFDKyUI/AAAAAAAABHA/vYaI8CcZh8I/s200/13+Rolf.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119099743964416322" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">George Lucas.</span><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwqyGVDKyVI/AAAAAAAABHI/VEI_YXB5Nds/s1600-h/14+Lucas.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwqyGVDKyVI/AAAAAAAABHI/VEI_YXB5Nds/s200/14+Lucas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119099748259383634" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Rolf Harris.</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Uncanny, eh?<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Tie me Bantha down, Han, man,<br /></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Tie me Bantha down, Han.<br />Altogether now...<br /></span></span></div>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21659703.post-80656924914077636602007-10-08T14:08:00.000+01:002007-10-10T12:04:52.743+01:00Contact in the Fog (With Real Fog)<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwoxx1DKyQI/AAAAAAAABGg/hR_LJJjwjnU/s1600-h/01+Two+Hats.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwoxx1DKyQI/AAAAAAAABGg/hR_LJJjwjnU/s400/01+Two+Hats.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118958658583709954" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">(Click on pics for a closer look)</span></span><br /></div><br />This weekend we played some more of our <span style="font-style: italic;">Rommel's Route to Verdun</span> campaign. The first part can be seen <a href="http://misterplynkes.blogspot.com/2007/06/rommels-route-to-verdun-recce-at-cosnes.html">here</a>.<br /><br />Early morning the following day, August 22nd, 1914. Rommel's platoon of the 7th Company, 124th Infantry Regiment was part of the advance towards the strongly-held town of Bleid. They pushed forward at first light in the fog, with the limited visibility hampering the coherency of the advance. Isolated units from both sides bumped into each other in the mist and contact was made...<br /><br />As the next few scenarios all take place in this troublesome fog, I figured we needed to simulate it visually somehow on the battlefield, as well as including its effects in gameplay terms. Suddenly it came to me: <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">THE FOG MACHINE!<br /><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwoxyFDKyRI/AAAAAAAABGo/xQcCLTYLN5Q/s1600-h/02+Fog+Machine.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwoxyFDKyRI/AAAAAAAABGo/xQcCLTYLN5Q/s400/02+Fog+Machine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118958662878677266" border="0" /></a>Provided by those nice people of F.W. Woolworth and Co., I had had this thing for ages, and never quite knew what to do with it. Wakey, a member of our gaming gang, had given it to me as a Christmas gift some years earlier. It had struck me then as a bizarre gift, but it seems our Wakey had somehow known that I would one day have need of it.<br /><br />Cheers, Wakey. It's just the ticket.<br /><br />Anyway, more of that in a bit. First let's introduce the players:<br /></div><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"></span><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwoxyVDKySI/AAAAAAAABGw/3zMGryvV6o0/s1600-h/03+French+Commander.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwoxyVDKySI/AAAAAAAABGw/3zMGryvV6o0/s400/03+French+Commander.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118958667173644578" border="0" /></a>Lieutenant Arnaud St. Denis Mini-Babybel Sickerlie, commanding the French.<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwoxy1DKyTI/AAAAAAAABG4/8gINT5b8iE0/s1600-h/04+German+Commander.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwoxy1DKyTI/AAAAAAAABG4/8gINT5b8iE0/s400/04+German+Commander.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118958675763579186" border="0" /></a>Leutnant Hermann von Plynkerhofen, affectionately known to his troops as <span style="font-style: italic;">Herr Schnurrbartmeyer</span>, commanding the Germans.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwoxJlDKyNI/AAAAAAAABGI/X6V4qI1i8RU/s1600-h/05+Layout.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwoxJlDKyNI/AAAAAAAABGI/X6V4qI1i8RU/s400/05+Layout.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118957967093975250" border="0" /></a>The table layout. The Germans entered on turn one, the French could set up anywhere in their half of the table. As variable attachments we gave them a Platoon HQ and "may start dug in", giving them some light entrenchments. Slit trenches or rifle pits. Something of that nature.<br /><br />The German objective was to exit at least ten men off the opposite table edge, so as to continue the pace of the advance on Bleid. The French had to prevent this.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwoxLVDKyOI/AAAAAAAABGQ/7zMLFlfMGgo/s1600-h/06+French+Forces.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwoxLVDKyOI/AAAAAAAABGQ/7zMLFlfMGgo/s400/06+French+Forces.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118957997158746338" border="0" /></a>French Forces. One squad, a four man patrol lost in the fog, the platoon HQ and a medic. The medic could be used to treat wounded troops to a level where they could be evacuated off-table. Wounded troops that made it safely off the table would not gain victory points for the Germans, if it came to a point-counting exercise to decide the winner.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwoxL1DKyPI/AAAAAAAABGY/xdi01HO6riQ/s1600-h/07+German+Forces.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwoxL1DKyPI/AAAAAAAABGY/xdi01HO6riQ/s400/07+German+Forces.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118958005748680946" border="0" /></a>The German force. Rommel's platoon HQ and two of his squads. Presumably he had been separated from the rest in the fog.<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">SPECIAL RULE</span><br /></div> </div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwoxA1DKyMI/AAAAAAAABGA/ikr4YfPKq-0/s1600-h/07b+Rommel+screamy+cry.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwoxA1DKyMI/AAAAAAAABGA/ikr4YfPKq-0/s200/07b+Rommel+screamy+cry.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118957816770119874" border="0" /></a>The Rommel's Lawn Cricket Screamy-Cry rule was still in effect. For details see<a href="http://misterplynkes.blogspot.com/2007/06/rommels-route-to-verdun-recce-at-cosnes.html"> the previous battle report</a>.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwow81DKyLI/AAAAAAAABF4/AjhqkrxIERw/s1600-h/08+Fog+Machine+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwow81DKyLI/AAAAAAAABF4/AjhqkrxIERw/s400/08+Fog+Machine+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118957748050643122" border="0" /></a>The fog machine, in place and ready for action.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwow0VDKyII/AAAAAAAABFg/uNsIGWfc5ik/s1600-h/09+Sheep.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwow0VDKyII/AAAAAAAABFg/uNsIGWfc5ik/s400/09+Sheep.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118957602021755010" border="0" /></a>Sickers wanted me to take a photo of these sheep. He likes them because they are on Games Workshop bases. Yes, that is the only reason. He is impressed by anything to do with Games Workshop, those foul fiends have got him well brain-washed.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwow0lDKyJI/AAAAAAAABFo/X4lFAVwugAs/s1600-h/10+Fog+Machine+Begins.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwow0lDKyJI/AAAAAAAABFo/X4lFAVwugAs/s400/10+Fog+Machine+Begins.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118957606316722322" border="0" /></a>Okay, ready to start.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">ACTIVATE THE FOG MACHINE!<br /><br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwow01DKyKI/AAAAAAAABFw/DImymxUZrUs/s1600-h/11+Fog+Machine+Continues.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwow01DKyKI/AAAAAAAABFw/DImymxUZrUs/s400/11+Fog+Machine+Continues.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118957610611689634" border="0" /></a>Wow, this is cool.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwowpVDKyHI/AAAAAAAABFY/qC8wiJnVKjA/s1600-h/12+Lots+of+Fog.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwowpVDKyHI/AAAAAAAABFY/qC8wiJnVKjA/s400/12+Lots+of+Fog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118957413043193970" border="0" /></a>Excellent. Just what we need.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwowAFDKx9I/AAAAAAAABEQ/XF2Hf08rR40/s1600-h/13+Fog+Machine+fizzles+out.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwowAFDKx9I/AAAAAAAABEQ/XF2Hf08rR40/s400/13+Fog+Machine+fizzles+out.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118956704373589970" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">But then ... Pffft! Pffft! Pffft!</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The damn infernal machine conked out. We had about ten seconds of really atmospheric fog, and then it stopped. The flaming thing could not be coaxed into producing more than tiny little spurts of mist. Bugger. I shall give that Wakey a piece of my mind when I see him. And F.W. Woolworth, too, for that matter. I bet it's revenge for my stealing sweets from the </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >pick-and-mix</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> shelves. Grrr...</span><br /></div><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwowAVDKx-I/AAAAAAAABEY/_jUIOHf23II/s1600-h/14+German+Entry+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwowAVDKx-I/AAAAAAAABEY/_jUIOHf23II/s400/14+German+Entry+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118956708668557282" border="0" /></a>Oh well, I guess the show must go on. We'll just have to imagine the fog. Things got underway with Rommel's Germans advancing across Hill 325, heading for Bleid.<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwowAVDKx_I/AAAAAAAABEg/JxIIP-bL5vI/s1600-h/15+German+Entry+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwowAVDKx_I/AAAAAAAABEg/JxIIP-bL5vI/s400/15+German+Entry+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118956708668557298" border="0" /></a>These fellows were confident they could handle any straggling Frenchmen in their way. They had seen them off the day before with ease.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwowAlDKyAI/AAAAAAAABEo/yzy9YL3u_6M/s1600-h/16+German+Advance.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwowAlDKyAI/AAAAAAAABEo/yzy9YL3u_6M/s400/16+German+Advance.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118956712963524610" border="0" /></a>Rommel watched from the hill as the 1st Squad advanced towards a wheat field. 2nd Squad, meanwhile, made their way towards a small copse of trees.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwowAlDKyBI/AAAAAAAABEw/HWb61OdT37g/s1600-h/17+French+Patrol.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwowAlDKyBI/AAAAAAAABEw/HWb61OdT37g/s400/17+French+Patrol.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118956712963524626" border="0" /></a>Then, through the fog (!), they spotted a stray French patrol taking cover in the copse.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwovpVDKx5I/AAAAAAAABDw/qWe1YKviKkw/s1600-h/18+French+Squad.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwovpVDKx5I/AAAAAAAABDw/qWe1YKviKkw/s400/18+French+Squad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118956313531565970" border="0" /></a>And on the other side of the field, a squad of French infantry, lightly dug in, in shallow, hasty entrenchments.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwovp1DKx6I/AAAAAAAABD4/kOrE-de2Crk/s1600-h/19+Contact.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwovp1DKx6I/AAAAAAAABD4/kOrE-de2Crk/s400/19+Contact.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118956322121500578" border="0" /></a>Contact had been made. Rommel made his way down the hill to direct the advance of his men personally...<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwovqFDKx7I/AAAAAAAABEA/035yBzWpc0c/s1600-h/20+The+sheep+watch+the+advance.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwovqFDKx7I/AAAAAAAABEA/035yBzWpc0c/s400/20+The+sheep+watch+the+advance.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118956326416467890" border="0" /></a>... While the sheep watched, unpeturbed, from the hill.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwovqVDKx8I/AAAAAAAABEI/P6nmLK3q58A/s1600-h/21+Rommel+Suppressed+again.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwovqVDKx8I/AAAAAAAABEI/P6nmLK3q58A/s400/21+Rommel+Suppressed+again.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118956330711435202" border="0" /></a>Suddenly the sheep were rudely startled from their pastoral reverie, as French bullets came zipping across the field. Visibility was too poor for accurate shooting, but it was enough to make Rommel get his head down.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwourFDKx1I/AAAAAAAABDQ/y4kM0DOeQHM/s1600-h/22+Exchange+of+fire.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwourFDKx1I/AAAAAAAABDQ/y4kM0DOeQHM/s400/22+Exchange+of+fire.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118955244084709202" border="0" /></a>The two sides exchanged fire, resulting in quite a few fellows getting their heads down, but nothing in the way of actual casualties.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwourFDKx2I/AAAAAAAABDY/J8w7BrOX03k/s1600-h/23+French+Platoon+HQ.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwourFDKx2I/AAAAAAAABDY/J8w7BrOX03k/s400/23+French+Platoon+HQ.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118955244084709218" border="0" /></a>The French platoon HQ revealed itself by joining in the firefight.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwourVDKx3I/AAAAAAAABDg/GaouDdTfgIM/s1600-h/24+Attack+the+patrol.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwourVDKx3I/AAAAAAAABDg/GaouDdTfgIM/s400/24+Attack+the+patrol.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118955248379676530" border="0" /></a>The German left and centre had all hit the deck, but on the right 2nd Squad had suppressed the patrol in the copse ...<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwourVDKx4I/AAAAAAAABDo/aVOImEmjIc0/s1600-h/25+Right+squad+advances.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwourVDKx4I/AAAAAAAABDo/aVOImEmjIc0/s400/25+Right+squad+advances.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118955248379676546" border="0" /></a>... and so advanced to drive them from it.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwouT1DKxxI/AAAAAAAABCw/6kQqB_Wmygw/s1600-h/26+Driven+Back.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwouT1DKxxI/AAAAAAAABCw/6kQqB_Wmygw/s400/26+Driven+Back.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118954844652750610" border="0" /></a>But the steady fire from the French soon began to take its toll, and the Germans were taking casualties. Eventually they were forced back by the sustained French fire.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwouUFDKxyI/AAAAAAAABC4/zih-qYuAlIQ/s1600-h/27+French+Pursuit.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwouUFDKxyI/AAAAAAAABC4/zih-qYuAlIQ/s400/27+French+Pursuit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118954848947717922" border="0" /></a>Somewhat foolishly, the patrol opted to pursue as 2nd Squad headed for the cover of the woods on their far right flank.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwouUFDKxzI/AAAAAAAABDA/I_sE29Cix3k/s1600-h/28+Medic.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwouUFDKxzI/AAAAAAAABDA/I_sE29Cix3k/s400/28+Medic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118954848947717938" border="0" /></a>This exposed them to fire from the hill, where 1st Squad had recovered their composure. One of the patrol went down. The patrol leader called for the medic, and, seeing him coming, urged his men on towards the woods...<br /></div><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwouVFDKx0I/AAAAAAAABDI/d0Ojld_GEQA/s1600-h/29+Into+the+Woods.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwouVFDKx0I/AAAAAAAABDI/d0Ojld_GEQA/s400/29+Into+the+Woods.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118954866127587138" border="0" /></a>... Which the remains of 2nd Squad had now reached.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwotzlDKxtI/AAAAAAAABCQ/igRLFscUvFo/s1600-h/30+Head+them+off.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwotzlDKxtI/AAAAAAAABCQ/igRLFscUvFo/s400/30+Head+them+off.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118954290601969362" border="0" /></a>The pursuit continued. They couldn't let <span style="font-style: italic;">Les Boches</span> get past them.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Ils ne passeront pas!</span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwotzlDKxuI/AAAAAAAABCY/C1-G1VkIog4/s1600-h/31+Medic+in+action.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwotzlDKxuI/AAAAAAAABCY/C1-G1VkIog4/s400/31+Medic+in+action.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118954290601969378" border="0" /></a>Back among the corn stalks, the medic was plying his trade. Unfortunately he lost his first patient. Occupational hazard, I suppose.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwotzlDKxvI/AAAAAAAABCg/GNGth5TNTYo/s1600-h/32+Rommel+Forced+Back.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwotzlDKxvI/AAAAAAAABCg/GNGth5TNTYo/s400/32+Rommel+Forced+Back.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118954290601969394" border="0" /></a>And up on the hill, still with random rounds pinging around him, Rommel realised that without all his platoon to hand he wasn't strong enough to force the issue here. But the advance must not be held up. He would bypass this position and leave it for later following forces to deal with. He must try and pass around them and connect with the rest of the company, wherever they may be.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwotz1DKxwI/AAAAAAAABCo/Viz2IUtArqs/s1600-h/33+Change+of+Plan.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwotz1DKxwI/AAAAAAAABCo/Viz2IUtArqs/s400/33+Change+of+Plan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118954294896936706" border="0" /></a>With that in mind he set off after 2nd Squad, still taking fire as he went.<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwotSFDKxqI/AAAAAAAABB4/u95f7OeesmI/s1600-h/34+Encounter+in+the+woods.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwotSFDKxqI/AAAAAAAABB4/u95f7OeesmI/s400/34+Encounter+in+the+woods.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118953715076351650" border="0" /></a>Speaking of whom, they were making good progress on the extreme right, when they blundered into the French patrol ...<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwotSVDKxrI/AAAAAAAABCA/rafmMl0s72M/s1600-h/35+Outcome+of+the+encounter.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwotSVDKxrI/AAAAAAAABCA/rafmMl0s72M/s400/35+Outcome+of+the+encounter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118953719371318962" border="0" /></a>This time the Germans had the better of it, bringing down all of them in short order. The faithful medic ran to their aid, ran away again when he saw the Germans coming, and then ran back again as they passed by without molesting the casualties.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> <div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwotTFDKxsI/AAAAAAAABCI/TwxD89H7gsg/s1600-h/36+Historical+Advisor.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwotTFDKxsI/AAAAAAAABCI/TwxD89H7gsg/s400/36+Historical+Advisor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118953732256220866" border="0" /></a>This is Chester, our historical advisor, watching the battle. You can see he is carefully scrutinizing the battle by his intense gaze. Obviously all of his attention is focused on the events unfolding on the tabletop. You can see that in his eyes.<br /></div><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwotBFDKxoI/AAAAAAAABBo/_b9R6eMnun8/s1600-h/37+Interception+attempt.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwotBFDKxoI/AAAAAAAABBo/_b9R6eMnun8/s400/37+Interception+attempt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118953423018575490" border="0" /></a>Realising, perhaps too late, that his left flank was wide open, the French commander frantically tried to redeploy...<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwos1FDKxnI/AAAAAAAABBg/_y086Jy4QVM/s1600-h/38+Here+they+come.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/Rwos1FDKxnI/AAAAAAAABBg/_y086Jy4QVM/s400/38+Here+they+come.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118953216860145266" border="0" /></a>... Sending his men running across the open fields towards the woods.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwosNlDKxmI/AAAAAAAABBY/WE44zxhGU-0/s1600-h/39+Medic+Again.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwosNlDKxmI/AAAAAAAABBY/WE44zxhGU-0/s400/39+Medic+Again.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118952538255312482" border="0" /></a>In the woods, the brave medic had managed to save at least one patient. Two actually, but the third fellow would later die of his wounds.<br /><br /><br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwosHFDKxlI/AAAAAAAABBQ/Fu-Ck5HSeSk/s1600-h/40+Disengage.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dN-rv3PTOPM/RwosHFDKxlI/AAAAAAAABBQ/Fu-Ck5HSeSk/s400/40+Disengage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118952426586162770" border="0" /></a>Rommel had made his move just in time. His men vanished into the woods and were lost to the French. Hopefully he would soon be united with the rest of the company, and the advance could continue with a little more cohesion.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So the game ended. Rommel had achieved his victory conditions, but not in the time-frame laid out orginally by the scenario. As matters had seemed unresolved, and we were both having fun, the players resolved by mutual agreement to play for a few more turns. As the French held up the German advance for a while, but they had eventually continued on, we decided to call it a draw.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >The book-keeping</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">:</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">French Casualties</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">2 killed</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">2 wounded</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">German Casualties</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">4 killed</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">4 wounded</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So, from a pure accounting point of view, you might say the French had had the best of it. The German advance had continued, though.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The game was lots of fun. Almost all the fire was of the long-range unaimed kind, due to the fog hampering targeting. Without the fog, it would have surely been a much more messy affair with many more casualties. The rules used were again Price of Glory. The human figures were all from Renegade games. The sheep were Gripping Beast (with GW bases!).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The real downer was the poor performance of the fog machine. But fear not, fog fans. We did not immediately cast it into a skip in a fit of rage, but opted to give it one more chance the next day.</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;">How would Old Foggy fare this time? Would it redeem itself or be condemned to the executioner's block? Tune in next time to find out!<br /></div>Guidohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07882687017712412137noreply@blogger.com3