O, that Princess...

The Princess has forsaken the Rebellion!!?!

She has been offered, and has taken(!!), a seat of Imperial office!  Rumour has it that she rules from an imposing Imperial tower on Fargon(e) VII.

She must be "rescued" and brought to her senses!


"Sir, Rebels approaching!"

General Solo leads the Rebel right flank forward into action.

Y-Wings bomb the Imperial positions.

Night suddenly falls.   Days are short this time of year on Fargon(e) VII.   But this has been factored into the Rebel plan.  The ground assault has begun!

General Solo captures an AT-ST.

And turns it on its former owners.

Not to be outdone, General Skywalker zooms around the Imperial installation,

lands his Speeder, captures an E-Web Cannon, and turns it on its former owners too!

Meanwhile, a pointblank firefight rages on.

But where's the Princess?!

WHERE IS THE PRINCESS...??!?

Goblins on The Move, Dwarves in The Middle, Chaos at the End.

 

 

Private W. dreams of England, or Just a Regular Sunday in The U.K.

A stormy West Coast night has me hiding in the Shed sorting through my Gnomes and thinking of England.  Ah, England...the pitter-patter, thump-thump of the rain lulls me into some happy dreaming...

    It is a pleasant Sunday morning that finds me in a wonderfully average Northeastern English Village.  A lively hornpipe being played on a set Northumbrian Small Pipes fills the air with delight.  So I buy a Fried Snickers bar and follow a pair of Age Of Arthur Re-Enactors to a Car Boot Sale being held in the Village Green.  I poke through the boots/trunks of classic Jags, Morris Minors, Lotus Super Sevens and Ford Anglia Deluxes.   Mmmm, it is exactly like I always imagined it - there are miniatures for sale everywhere!   I see a set of C-series Orcs.  A couple Kemmlers.  A Perry Giant.  No, two!  Hey look, some Space Slann.   The Spined Dragon.   The selection is mind-numbing, the choice overwhelming - What should I spend my 99p on?   (At this, I chuckle, oh the English Collector has it rough.)    But there in a purple Jensen Interceptor I see my Holy Grail - the entire line of Dixon Dwarves!!!  I scoop them up and head happily into the closest of the eleven pubs that line the Green. 

   Inside the Pub I hear joyous laughter, merry singing and rich discussion.  On the walls there are pictures of Spitfires, the Queen, framed photos of Donald Featherstone and Tony Iommi.   I see a poster advertising the annual Bronte sister look-a-like contest.  And there are games, tabletop games being played everywhere!  I marvel at the variety of battles being fought - WWI, WWII, Seven Years War, Nap., ECW (all played with Hinchcliff figures), 3rd Edition Warhammer, Ancients, Moderns, Gangsters, Spanish Civil War, etc., etc... But what catches my eye and my awe are two guys playing a huge game using the WRG 6th edition's fantasy adaptations.   That and the fact that all the figures on the table are Minifigs from the Minifig Fantasy line from the 70's!   I want to drop to my knees in utter supplication and worship which is then amplified tenfold when one of the players tells me that this game is part of an on-going campaign that has being going on for the past 32 years!!!!

     To calm myself I go and order a pint.  At the bar I join a conversation about Chaucer and English Folk Music.  Soon the talk turns to Jutland and the best rule set to best fight this Dreadnought dream.   Before I can tell them about my boyhood spent building the Imperial German Fleet out of Lego, I notice that a new performer is mounting the stage at the back of the pub.  He looks familiar but in my delirious state it takes me a moment to place him.   He begins to sing an old English Magdrigal.  It dawns on me that he is singing all five parts.  At once!  While tastefully accompanying himself on the lute!  Amazing!   But wait!  It's Rick Priestley!!!!  

       "It's RICK PRIESTLEY!!!", I shout.

I am politely shushed by the hushed audience that has gathered around him.  

     "Man, that guy can do anything", I think quietly to myself.

Four hours later he finishes his set to thunderous applause.   I push myself through the throng of adoring fans.  I barely notice that most of them are attractive young women waving autograph books.  

     "Rick!", I shout, "RICK!   I LOVE REAPER BUT I'VE NEVER MANAGED A FULL GAME OF IT!"

This catches his attention and he invites me over to his table.  We talk about all sorts of things.   In my happiness I buy another Fried Snickers Bar. 

    "Rick", I ask, "do fanboys with Life-Sized Posters of you hanging in their Dining Rooms freak you out at all?"

He laughs and says that it was funny that I mentioned REAPER because he was planning of having a game of it when he got home and would I like to play?   

When we get back to his place he makes us tea as we set up our forces.  I noticed that his beautiful Hittite army is five times the size of the goblin force he gave me to use.   But that's okay.  Narrative, man, I'm sure he has some sort of incredible narrative planned for our game.  However, just at that moment a large Citadel box that is half hidden in his hall closet catches my attention. 

  "What's that big Citadel box Rick?", I ask.

   "O nothing.  Just my Time Machine", Rick answers.

   "Wow, Rick, you have a Time Machine?!"

    "Yeah."

Now I am really torn.  Do I play a game of REAPER with Rick Priestley with his very own miniatures, or do I ask to use his Time Machine?   AHHH! 

   "Rick?"

   "Yes."

    "May we use your Time Machine and then play a game of REAPER with your very own miniatures?"

   "Sure."

And that's how I got to see Hawkwind live in 1972!  With Rick Priestley.

Ahh, England!

Here are some pictures of some of my Gnomes.  

My shed table at the moment.

Got carried away pulling out figs.  Felt very old school tonight.  Thought some nice old school grain and unfocus would be nice to show.   Plus I love this picture.

And for no reason at all.

Some of my very first fantasy figs.  Actually several were/are my brother's. 

Happy full moon.

Just a quick Hello

Hello.  

Hobgoblins, Trolls and a GIant named Joe - Warhammering in 54mm

Professor Elf came by for an afternoon of Warhammer.  Surprised him by springing a game with Britains (and friends) instead of the 28's.  Luckily, and thankfully, he didn't run screaming away.

   A'kanslai's Rabid Reavers rip and ravage their way through peace-loving Pritonnia until they reach The Ravine of Reckoning.  It is here that the Might of Pritonnia, Big Jim the giant, and a friendly travelling hero, ask them to stop.   "Oi, but we be Hobgoblins!", shouts A'kanslai, "and we's OK!"

In answer, the Chevaliers D'Honneur, the flower of Pritonnian chivalry, charge towards the Trolls of Gamorr.   Big Jim throws in his support and chucks a large rock at the Hobgoblin centre. 

GI giant Joe slams into the knights. 

And takes them all out!

Meanwhile, Big Jim decides he much rather wave than throw any more big rocks.

Elsewhere on the battlefield, those Rapscasllions from Nottingham chase off the Hobgoblin fast cavalry.

While Hobgoblin heavy cavalry smashes into the "Villains". 

But wait!  These "Villains" are really Templars!  Templars in plate armour!  And these plated Templars have "Unending Righteousness" (can never lose their Stubborn and their Hatred)!!  

 But all this means nothing to the Treeman. 

He remains rooted to the spot.  Not taking sides, not even showing the slightest interest in the battle raging all around him.   (Each turn we diced to see if the Treeman would join the game.  But he never moved.)

I'm not really sure how to describe the travelling Hero's sudden rear attack on the Trolls from Gamorr.

The Trolls break and run. 

Although, all is not lost for the Hobgoblins.  They rip through the Pritonnian Longbow Wedge.

And GI giant Joe charges into Big Jim.  He uproots a tree along the way and raises it...

...to the cheers of encouragement from his fans in the stands. 

Unfortunately for Joe, Big Jim uses this pause to sneak in his own clubbing attack first, and,  WHACK!  The Winner!

The Hobgoblin Horde surrenders!

A super fun game.  Simply a joy to play with the Britains and the "Boy Dolls".  Big thanks to the Professor for being open to playing with these toys!

Being Inspired By The Beautiful BOYL Siege Game

Yesterday afternoon my son and I excitedly gobbled up the first of the BOYL pictures being posted.  After looking at the siege game it was decided that we MUST play a game with a castle.   So we quickly put together a couple siege towers out of cardboard and nails, and set about creating a table. 

   The Goblin scout, Sneaky Snit Gobblegit Sydney, finds a section of the Great Wall of Bretonnia that is under-defended. 

He tells some friends...

Soon The Great Black Orc Shaman, The Great Wazoo, hears the news, gathers an army unrestricted by edition, scratch-builds some 10 minute Siege-towers and...

   "There's the gate, Boyz!!!"

   "Orcs!  Orcs are approaching!  Raise the Militia!"

  Luckily there are some old friends passing through.  It's Bernard D'Bernard and The Wizard What's-His-Name!  Heroes of Bretonnia.   And everyone knows that great heroes do not cower behind walls - they sally forth to meet the enemy, of course!!

Action!  The Battle commences!   We used a flexible version of wonderful Warhammer 6th edition. 

Goblin bowfire is relentless!

Bernard D'Bernard and The Wizard What's-His-Name get into the thick of it.

There were many old friends in their original paint jobs on the battlefield.  These plastic Orcs were painted by my brother, Sgt. Strange, in 1988.  They find it hard balancing the battering ram while carrying their weapons, so every once and a while they have to rest.

The Orc magic thrown by The Great Wazoo is devastating!!  Here the Foot of Gork takes out my Crimson Brotherhood, my elite old foot knights!

The walls are stormed, and neglected plastics finally see some action.

Once inside, no door can hold back the Green Fury!

And now, once again, poor Bretonnia is beset upon by roving bands of bandits and raiders, giants and boars...