The next time, honoured reader, you promenade along Horse-guards look carefully and you will see a range of stout doors set back from a street level long departed. Some open onto ancient halls guarded by strong yeomen whose attire does not disguise their military bearing and service revolvers.
Through such doors and other routes, more diverse enter an assortment of such fellows as the Empire relies. Some are famous but most are not. There is an air of expectation, something is afoot.
While they wait an Inspector of Constabulary addresses the assembly upon a related manner:
“here, just below the great Frank Muir nestles the market town of Much Binding Upon The Marsh. The attack came upon the eve of the livestock market. In the depth of the night some horror came from the moor, gained unlawful entry contrary to law and slaughtered all that it found within, including the night watchman.” An embarrassed pause, looks at the younger brother of the man who sits at the table-head”. A deep breath. “Besides this poor soul and amongst the slain stock were found the prints of (a plaster cast and other evidence is revealed) a monstrous chicken.”
An Officer enters, his face ashen with grief. “Sirs, I regret to inform you that we failed. I beg leave to report that the Gurkha were true to the salt and Torchwood lost two fine young ladies and a fine chap who died valiantly.” With a nod from M he sits and a brandy is pressed to his hand. “The assailants were strange, pale fellows dressed in black, but in the attire of each (killed) we found these.” Four large flat caps were placed on the table. The tall, hansom man approaches and with the aid of a large magnifying glass observes: “ note the quality of these garments, showing little sign of use, yet bearing signs of an agricultural environment.” He gestures to the Inspector of Police. “Note the distinctive tartan, this was originally sold by Yorkshire weavers to the Scottish highlanders in the 14th century.” Puffs on pipe and looks around room. “Such a garment displaying today this tartan points in only one direction (pause, puff) each of those you battled tonight were adepts of the ancient martial art of Eckie Thump, as is only practised amongst the secret boxer societies deep in the county of --------- Yorkshire.
This game was a variant of one I'd planned. As it happens it probably turned out as good as it could get. I think the next game will be in Flying Lead, unless Harder Than Steel (for which it was intended as the VSF trial) suddenly appears.
The setup is a large warehouse in Whitechapel where dinosaurs and similar are prepared for transportation. One such is prepared and ready to go. This is the objective, the bad guys to steal, the good guys to prevent. The walls were a snap-x set Tony picked up ½ hour before from a charity shop. I love it when a plot comes together.
At time of writing I have just invested heavily (In what-the-hell mode) in VSF, Old Glory will provide the great Detective, more vampires and Victorian civvies. Mars has not been forgotten. I have some other surprises I hope you enjoy.
The Bad Guys (All 8 of Odzaial Osmy's excellent vampires via Fighting 15's)
4 fighters (swords) inc 1 fighter/leader (figure with sword&pistol) 5
3 Pistoleer/Acrobat 6 (this is perfect for the leather/PVC clad gun toting vampire, although I'd be tempted to waive the reload rule)
Assassin 1 (2 knives)
5 Gurkha fighters inc Fighter/Leader 6 (All Irregular colonials)
3 Shooters (security service, Old Glory darkest Africa)
3 Pistoleers (Torchwood Institute, Rebels steampunks)
We both started by building our forces, I built a strong wall of Ghurkas and a line of pistoleers to protect my flank/rear.
Then we had our first draw, and Tony sends his leader straight at Memsab (that purdy, took down a T Rex, one shot) but was intercepted by a gallant Gurkha. This leads to a real dog fight, one Gurkha goes down to be replaced by another, support arrives for both sides and Memsab vainly looks for a target.
One of the shootists takes the opportunity to wriggle into a pile of bones, from where she launches a series of pop-up attacks.
On the other flank the assassin sneaks under the vehicles and lauches an attack on the Tourchwood trio, killing one, then another. A shootout between pistoleers develops, outclassed the Torchwood man goes down.
On the other flank the baddies leader is down and Memsaab is winged while the enemy fighters are downed. Again the pistoleer hits Memsaab, grievously wounding her. Another shooter tries for a shot, while a figure sneaks under then into the cab of the lorry--! After a couple of false starts, the lorry and its precious cargo is away!
Not only did I lose the dinosaur, but I also suffered (inc 3 reds) 8 losses to Tony's 7.
Now why would strange people from Yorkshire risk all for a dinosaur skeleton?
The game is afoot.
|Gurkhas & Officer|
|Torchwood holds the line|
|True to their salt, as ever|
|The marker underneath the last Torshwood girl shows the foul assassins poison.|