Saturday, 29 April 2017

Mentally Terrorformish: Rats over Lowbridge (prologue)

So, rather than move on to the next nation i thought i would play out a game in the nation of Verland i detailed last time out. I took one of the scenarios i suggested  and decided to expand upon it. Enjoy.

.....the action takes place in the eastern side of dark wood next to the village of Lowbridge (so named because within its boundries is a low bridge, as opposed to the neighbouring settlements of Highbridge and Broken bridge. Simple folk and all that). but first we are transported to the village square where the militia have been gathered......

'Right men' said captin Turner, leader of the Lowbridge irregulars (and cooper to royalty), veterans of the battle of slops mound, who almost got out of the inn on time to march upon the rebels of Stonewatch, who managed to not all crap themselves before the charge of the bondsmen of brechdorne at the battle of  Northpass (old tom was looking the other way and billy the stumps was deaf and half blind anyway). 'We have been assembled at the will of the Lord of Lowbridge, the representative of the royal counsel no less and he will be along any moment so for the Smiths sake stand to attention, let me do the talking and please, please do not be yourselves!'. At that the sound of hooves on cobbles filled the square as a slew of horsemen entered. The three at the head of the column were dressed in fine if slightly old plate riding fine warhorses, the rest were in tattered mail and leather, they were rugged and dirty and many has scars on their faces and exposed arms. the leader was a bearded man with an  eye patch over his left eye, chewing an unlit cigar. The riders stopped in front of the gathered militia. The lord of Lowbridge was a large man with long grey hair and a close cropped grey beard, he studied the assembled men before him. 'Captin, is this all of you?' he said. Captin Turner stepped forward nervously 'yes me lord these are the famous Lowbridge irregulars at your service sire'. At the word famous the leader of the ragged horse snorted in derision. 'Yes i can see that captin' the lord retorted 'what i mean is, where are the rest?', 'Well me lord we lost quite a few at the scrap over on the hill last new moon quelling that riot at the old inn' answered Captin Turner. 'Ahh yes' replied the Lord of Lowbridge 'i recall that one, those sewing circles can get fiesty after a few turnip wines'. 'Yes me lord and there was the training exercise last week we lost three there too'. 'Why what happened?' Asked the lord. 'It were  Nate the brewer sire, he liked to try his produce a bit too much you see, he turned up drunk as anythin. next thing Quentin the cheesemaker said somethin derogatory about radishes and Nate flew off the deep end, never could keep his temper that one!. He chopped off Quentins head and stabbed Glup the masseuse in the guts. We had to shoot him in the end!'. 'Right well you lot will have to do' announced the Lord. 'Allow me to introduce you to my son and heir Ralph' he said turning to present the young horsemen to his right. Ralph looked at the ground and mumbled a greeting 'elloanthatimralphnthat'. 'And my second son Delphus, hes almost been accepted to train for the royal guard havent you boy' said the lord turning to his right hand. Delphur also stared at the ground 'yesdadihavedadelloevryone,'. 'And this is Corpral Callur of the royal border guard horse who has been sent by the kings counsel themselves no less to help us in this important task' he said with more than a hint of pride in his voice. The rough man with the eye patch guided his horse forward a few paces, removed his cigar and spat a massive pool of flob and half chewed tobacco at Captin Turners feet. 'Right listen up' Callur said, his massive booming voice filling the square and challenging all other voices in the world to just try to interrupt him. 'We have been sent to chase down a threat that has settled with the outlaws in the dark wood. A so called wizard has set up with a fierce band that have been terrorizing the local area. We are calling on you to join us in a daring daylight attack on the outlaws hide out to eliminate this threat. We have identified the outlaws position and plan to attack at noon to ensure we are seen and get some proper resistance, for us its all in a days work but for you this may be a suicide mission, however as the local militia it is your duty to do this and as such you will join the attack under the lords command. And be warned, while on this exercise if any of you SCUM step out of line i have orders to skin you alive and play chopsticks on your rib cage with whatever manhood your daddy gave you....IS THAT UNDERSTOOD!'. The irregulars to a man suddenly looked at their boots and mumbled. The Lord of Lowbridge took over 'right, if all thats clear we will take up position. On we go, Captin lead your men on theres a good chap'. Captin turner swallowed hard,'right you heard his lordship, by the left....'

All thats left this time out is to offer a massive wronghammer welcome to the latest basketcase... er follower of these humble pages. Step forward Mr Symphonic Poet who it has to be said writes a fantastic blog by the name of the Tartarus rim which is frankly wonderful, i dont want to say too much about it so you get the full eclectic whammy without me spoiling it for you, check it out its great. Welcome sir!.

Anyway, i think i may get this game played tonight (if i can prep and base enough militia minis in time!) so i may turn this one around quite quickly (which will be a change!). Till next time.....

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