Tag Archives: wargames

Nal-Rog of the Nine Hills

We had a new guy with us last Tuesday night, so we did a quick one-of scenario for ASOBH. John is an old hand at RPGs but fairly new to TTGs. One of the many things I appreciate about the ASOBH system is how easy it is to teach newcomers.

Matt, Derek, and John each had a pair of heroes, all of whom banded together to chase the Iron Jaw Orcs and the infamous giant, Nal-Rog of the Nine Hills from the ruins of Gray Maarten’s Tower, near the rune stones locally called the Four Sisters.

Real slugfest. Heroes for the win. No AAR but here are some pictures.

Painted up two new Shadowrun-type crews, so ‘Song of Mirrorshades and Shadows’ on the docket for tomorrow night.

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Gray Maarten’s Tower and the Four Sisters – the field of battle.
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Chain Fighter Piotr Nevsky faces Nal-Rog. Bold move. 
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Cleric Lazarus Sturn goes to meet the Orc Warchief. 
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Barda, War-Priest of Numor faces the Orc Brutes. His faith is strong, his sword sharp and fast. 
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Brawl around Gray Maarten’s Tower
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Quinn of Montfort grabs the treasure. 
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Hrodor and Brynar at the Four Sisters.
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Iron Jaws advance!

 

Oldie but Goodie

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Last Tues’ ASOBH AAR was cancelled due to an imminent remodeling project in the Game Room. (new windows) Everything had to be tidied up by 8 a.m. sharp the next morning. I am pleased to report that while more than half my men were slaughtered by the end of Turn 3, my trio of evil barbarians pulled glorious victory from the jaws of humiliating defeat. They rallied and swiftly sent Matt and Derek’s warbands to Valhilla. (we have a habit of placing slain models on out-of-the-way hilltops) I fondly recall  one particularly nice Gruesome Kill made by Nekhar the Red against an Elven Mage. Interesting game all around. Matt and Derek  will nonetheless resume their quest for the Liche King’s crypt in two weeks.

So apologies for no pictures.

BUT…

I do offer this little gem: a flash fiction that captures the two main wargame schools of thought. Now I lean toward the Realistic rather than Space Fantasy myself. Although call it whatever you want, I’m still just playing with Toy Soldiers.

That said, I present “Ground Zero” by Tom Sullivan.

***

Ground Zero

By TOM SULLIVAN

“Christ,” whispered Pugh, “It looks like someone slapped a set of treads onto a dumpster!”

Kemmerman snorted his agreement. “And check out Buck Rogers there! Sticking his big, ugly ol’ head outta the hatch, and not even bothering to stick a helmet on it! Think he’s got a ‘Shoot Me’ sign on his back, too?”

“Cut it,” snapped the sergeant, “We’ve got work to do here. Sorenson, have you got a lock yet?”

“Yessir,” he replied, his gaze remaining fixed on the Scorpion’s display. “Ready when you are, sir.”

Nodding, the sergeant tapped at his com unit. “Jessup? You ready?” He nodded again at the reply. “All right then, on my mark…NOW!!”

There was a sudden sharp crack, and the enemy officer’s head vanished, replaced by a rapidly dispersing red mist. This sound was followed a heartbeat later with a loud “Crump!” as the Scorpion rocket penetrated the side of the APC. The vehicle skewed sideways, smoke and flame billowing from the hole in its side, as the second rocket hit, this time impacting at the rear.

The APC exploded with a satisfying roar, scattering pieces of men and metal across the field.

“That,” Pugh said with feeling, “was abso-fuckin-lutely beautiful. You know that? That’s a goddamn piece of art right there, Billy! You should get down there and sign it, you know?”

Sorenson shrugged as he repositioned himself, targeting the second APC. “It’s eighty percent inspiration, ten percent perspiration, and one hundred and ten percent detonation, my man.”

The APC shuddered, and obligingly lost a tread, as the rocket hit it.

“It’s a damned good thing that you can shoot, buddy,” Pugh said, ’cause you sure as shit can’t add.” He shook his head, waving at the men spilling out of the crippled vehicle. “Now look at that! Bright red armor? What are they, color-blind? Or just stupid?”

“Neither,” interrupted the sergeant, “they’re arrogant and very well armored. Now, shut up and shoot.”

“Yessir,” Pugh muttered, shouldering his rifle, “shooting away, sir. Doesn’t seem to be doing much good, sir.”

“When I want your opinion, Pugh, I’ll be sure to tell you what it is, understand? Just keep firing. And Sorenson, wait for my command, dammit!”

The armored men seemed largely indifferent to the rifle fire, only a few even bothering to return it.

Miller shook his head as he sprayed bullets down the hill. “Jesus, what the fuck are they firing? Howitzers? Those are the biggest goddamn rifles I’ve ever seen!”

Pugh snorted. “Yeah, but do think they can actually hit anything with ’em? Might as well just throw the damned things at us for all the good they’re doing!” He yelped, jerking back as a crater was blasted into the ground a foot away from his head. “Yeah, yeah…fuck you too, Murphy!”

“You know,” Pugh noted after a moment, “they really don’t seem very happy, sir. In fact,” he added, as he changed clips, “they seem downright pissed. Sir.”

The sergant ignored him. “Jessup? There’s a guy down there with a very big gun. Yeah, the one painted yellow. Eliminate him for me, would you?”

There was a flash, a bang, and one of the men at the bottom of the hill collapsed, a neat little hole visible in the side of his helmet. Pugh made an approving noise. “Very nice, Jessup! You and Sorenson, you’re like the…the..Boticellis of the battlefield, you know? Fuckin’ artistes, I tell ya!”

“‘Boticellis of the battlefield’, Pugh? What are you on, anyway?”

“It’s called culture, buddy. Give it a try sometime. You’ll like eating with a fork, I just know it!”

“Um, sir?” Miller said, abruptly, “Sir? They appear to be charging, sir. Up the hill, sir.”

“Yeah,” the sergant replied with satisfaction, “Yeah, they certainly are, aren’t they? The big bastards are nothing if not predictable. Just keep firing, private. Williams, Cook? Be ready.”

“My God,” Pugh marveled, “the guy in front has a sword! A goddamn sword! What’s in his other pocket, a flint fucking spear?”

They did, he had to admit to himself, certainly look impressive. Each stood at least seven feel tall, and their brilliant red armor made them look even bigger. “Kind of a shame they’re such morons,” he muttered.

Two of the charging men fell, neither making it even halfway up the hill, but the remaining seven kept coming, firing, apparently at random,as they did.

“Now!” the sergant shouted. “Now, dammit!”

The man in the lead, the one waving the sword, was cut almost in half by the incoming plasma bolt. Those behind him stopped sort, caught in the crossfire as William’s and Cook’s squads opened fire. Sorenson fired the Scorpion, catching one man squarely in the center of his chest. The result was, while interesting, far from pretty.

The concentrated fire of fifteen men proved sufficient. Almost. Only one man made it to the top of the hill, his armor cracked and pitted with innumerable bullet holes. Moving with remarkable speed for such a large man, he surged forward, grabbing the sergant by the throat before the rest of the squad could react.

“Now,” the man rasped, his voice distorted by his helmet, “you shall die, in the Emperor’s….”

*BLAM*

He stopped.

Looked down.

Saw the smoke rising from the barrel of the pistol pressed firmly against his stomach.

And fell, gently, to the ground.

The sergant stepped back, rubbing gingerly at his throat. “He was a tough bastard, I’ll give him that much,” he said, hoarsely. He prodded at the corpse with his toe, dislodging the man’s helmet with a sudden fierce kick.

“Jesus, what did they do?” asked Pugh, “Shave an ape?” The man’s features were grotesquely exaggerated, almost to the point of caricature.

“That,” said the sergant, “is what happens when you combine several centuries of extensive genetic and bionic engineering with being raised from birth to worship an immortal psychopath. Makes you understand the Promixa Covenant, doesn’t it?”

He sighed. “Stupid goddamned fanatics. They think they entire universe should play by their rules. Well, fuck that. We’re gonna show ’em how a war is supposed to be fought. Space Marines, my ass!” He kicked the corpse again, not gently. “How do you like life at ground zero, asshole?”

***

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Wire Cutter Test Pieces

With a ruined castle looming on the horizon of our SOBH campaign, I picked up a hot wire cutter off Amazon. I made two very simple  test pieces to get a feel for how it works.

It’s a very handy tool with loads of terrain-building potential. Nasty fumes aside, it cuts  1″ and 2″ insulation foam like a dream, and now that I’ve got some mistakes out of the way, the next batch will be that much better. Now I get to hunt down inspiration for the Storm Crag Keep – a very cool problem to have.

Next SOBH adventure Tues eve: “The Desecration of St. Cuthbert’s Abbey.” Have a great weekend.

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Round One LPL Entry

Now that the voting for Round One of the LPL has closed, I can show pix of my first entry. Close ups are pretty honest, and honestly, these will work fine for the table top. But in competition… they’re no where near professional level. Good thing I’m a gamer then, eh?

Ran a practice game last night with adventurers facing a necromancer, zombies and a ghast, (Jumpin’ Jack Flash, he’s a ghast, ghast, ghast…) trying out some new rules, spells, etc. The undead got hammered – literally –  by a cleric and his pals.

WHISPERS OF THE LICH KING is approaching, so keep that Warding: Undead amulet handy.

Without further ado

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Random brushwork

Still working on wide assortment of fantasy figs for our SOBH campaign, some of which might be entered in the LAF LPL, which, according to the official rules, cannot have been be posted anywhere online prior to entry. In the meantime, I’ve been feeling like a slacker not posting so I snapped a few shots  today.

I am really enjoying the change from sci fi figs and I’m anxious to put up pictures for your feedback. My brushwork and photog skills what they are, I’ll most likely be eliminated from the LPL soon enough. So that’s one benefit of not being a professional level painter.

Derek, Matt and I have been playing ‘one-of’ games the past few weeks to thoroughly familiarize ourselves with the Advanced SOBH rules, but it looks like we’ll be starting “Whispers of the Lich” soon. (There was a lot of figs to paint, terrain to build, a campaign to write…)

I volunteered to be Game Master and run the NPC baddies, while one of Matt’s friends is supposed to join us, so things should get very interesting. Their three warbands will be semi-cooperating against each mission’s hostiles as they investigate rumors of necromancy and treasure in the crypts of Storm Crag Keep. I’ll be sure to post Bat Reps after each session.

Anyway, here are today’s pix.

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Reaper Not-Neo with weapon swaps and resin tech base.

 

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A little Shadowrun-ish
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Hasslefree Figs Smartgunner fig.
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HF Smartgunner with Heresy Predator
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Reaper Chronoscope Baddies including new Henchman on the far right
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HF spy assassin chick with Clix repaint.
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Old RAFM Shadowrun Rigger with Bombshell robot and I-Kore Syntha female infantry.

 

Modern/NF figs for Sale

More figs looking for a good home.

I thought we’d get in some Fistful of Kung Fu games while I prepped for our upcoming fantasy SoBH campaign, but we decided otherwise. So… here are three near future/modern figs sets designed to represent Police, Corporate, and Criminal factions.

Sets are $40 each, which includes ConUS Shipping.  If you are overseas adn interested, PLEASE contact me to determine actual postage. PayPal only please. I will combine shipping. Contact me here or gmail me. (CCGlazier)

Terrain is NOT included.

SET 1: POLICE   $40

 

SET 2: CORPORATE SECURITY   $40

 

SET 3: CRIMINAL TYPES   $40

 

Thanks for looking.

Post-Apoc figs for Sale

Hi. Hope this finds you well and winning all your games.

Time for me to cull the herd. My wife will be traveling to India in February to work at an orphanage in Hyderabad. (Really. Here’s the place.) She’ll be gone ten days, during which I will more than likely eat lots of take-out, paint figs, watch B-movies, and occasionally do real work.

That confession aside, I’d like to raise some $$ to defray her expenses. (It’s all volunteer, out-of-pocket) So I’m offering three Post-Apocalyptic fig sets for sale. Price is $130 each, which includes shipping in the ConUS. If you’re overseas and interested, please contact me to determine actual postage costs. (USPS has had hefty increases recently)

PayPal only. First come – first served. I will combine shipping for multiple sets. Contact me here or gmail me (CCGlazier)

SET 1. WASTELAND  SCAVENGERS

Ten figs from assorted manufacturers designed to represent a lightly mutated scavenger warband. All figs have been based and satin sealed.

Terrain is NOT included.

$130. US shipping included.

 

SET 2: SILO 57 SCIENCE CREW

Eleven figs from various manufacturers. Designed to represent Scientific Survivalist faction trying to put some of the pieces back together.

Terrain is NOT included.

$130. US Shipping included.

 

 

SET 3: WASTELAND CREATURES

Seventeen figs (counting the scorpions) designed to represent various wasteland threats from feral raiders with a massive mutant heavy to mutated mole men, Rad-scorpions, and a toothy sand worm.

Terrain is NOT included.

$130. US Shipping included.

 

 

Thanks for looking. Hope these go to a good home.