Freebooter Roborg

As regular readers may be aware, some months back I relocated. Long and complicated story, that, but the upside is improved gaming and modeling digs . . . in theory. You see, I've done none of one and little of the other since moving. But hey, I finally got off my bum and carried a brand new post-move project to completion.

Long long ago, when I first started collecting GW's spacerly orkoids, I stumbled across a suplement called "Freebooterz." I was particularly taken with a unit built around a disgruntled orc mechanic (or mek) and medic (or painboy . . . don't ask). The shiny marines were, at the time, relatively free in what they could field. Big Green was considerably less so, unless you hired the services of piratical green mercenaries; the titular "Freebooterz.". Colorful fellows all. And they came in all sorts to fill whatever "defishuncy" might trouble your warboss's own merry band.

Typically, a warband was limited to a dreadnought or two. (Maybe a few, if it was fairly large.) But if you hired a "Dreadmob" . . . Sky's the limit. (At 40 points a "kustomer." Dreadlies require some "teef" for their not inconsiderable services.) The idea was that these two rogues did nothing but build oddball robots, constantly tinkering with them. I always wanted a Dreadmob. Had the doc and the mek pretty early. Took a while to acquire enough creations. (I wanted them to be . . . different. Not your usual orky examples.) Their first pair were "kustomized" from some strangely light and piratical Imperial machines providently found on the field of job lot commerce. (In the bottom of a box of orcs, appropriately enough.) Later I added one of Ramshackle's "Gorillagons." But I always have my eyes open for more. Below you will find more:

 

What you see here is the body of an Ironclaw "Roborg." Think of it as a sort of post apocalyptic pre-dreadnought. The pieces even bear a striking resemblance to other contemporary GW connected models: one of the hull options is a very close match to the squat hovercar, and the arms and legs are basically identical to those of the Megabot. I was able to obtain this one for about twenty bucks U.S., thanks to the fact he was missing some parts. To wit: he was short his left arm and his gun. But being fond of a good deal I figured I could manufacture appropriate green prosthetics . . .

While I've a long way to go to true mastery, I'll take that as a successful experiment. (Bonus: it will not match future Megabots or Roborgs, should I ever acquire a complete specimen.) Heck, I think he even painted up all right.

And here he is with the rest of the "krew." (And a couple of friends.)

Hope you enjoyed this small diversion. Thanks for following along. Hopefully the next installment will come a little quicker.

Sincerely,

The Composer

Hello Kitty on a Hot Tin Roof

Last time on Adventures of the Lace Rock Gang our heroes encountered a sudden storm of super-sonic stay-away from all angles when they ventured to the site of the Graceful Ghost Gibsonite Mine to retrieve their supplies. Not only did the pirate Goldberg Street follow them so he could Shanghai their rightfully stolen goods, but bands of nearby orcs heard the gunfire as their brand of party time and showed up uninvited.

When the cordite fumes cleared Lace Rock leader Jackie Chu and his crew had snagged the better half of their stuff, but somehow Kitty Luong, the gang's principal sneaking specialist and anthropomorphic robot-cat freak, had disappeared. Only this time it looked like she hadn't snuck off to watch Twen-Cen 2D. The orcs must have gotten her! It falls on Chu and his comrades to see if they can be real quiet like and get their girl back.

The party arrived at the surprisingly lightly guarded scene in the middle of the night. The orks had a hard day of drinking and needed to sleep it off. (Which is pretty much every day for orks, really. Including days when they also shoot at stuff. Which is also pretty much every day.) As you can see below, the party chose to enter simultaneously from two sides. Not depicted in this film is a salt lake to the rear of the compound. You can wade in carefully single file, but there's no bringing in armies through the back door, so the grots who drew night watch and the heavy defenses were posted to the front.

Of course, the very first place the party went was the abandoned jail, which was also not too well defended, while simultaneously being where I had chosen to place Kitty. Oops. Note to self, don't place her so close to the back door next time. The party needs to discover her location the hard way. This is an action adventure. You need to make the characters work.

The game was supposed to be a variant on Pulp Alley's trail of clues. The party would interrogate each green "plot point" until they got the information they needed. I defeated myself by breaking PA's own rules and placing the primary objective in advance, thus rending such a shortcut as actually transpired possible. The team found Kitty pretty much on the first try. Next time Kitty will be in the same building as the boss, and neither will be placed until AFTER several greenskins have undergone the enhanced but quiet Q&A sessions that reveal the location BEFORE sneaking up on the guard and rendering him less conscious. But this time they just bonked him and found their girl.

After that, all that remained was for the gang to make good a hasty exit, which they did with only a little trouble. (They woke up a few grots whom they needed to quiet before alarms were raised to bring the orcs out of their alcohol induced slumber.)

If you're interested in the mechanics I used for some of the sneaking and interrogating come on over the PA community. I've written a more detailed review of the particulars there.

While it wasn't quite as successful as the first game, with a little tweaking I think it's solid. And it's nice that this was a sneak game and not a shoot game. The time limit this time was longer, so as to allow for the slower snaking progress, and was to be imposed by a group of orcs returning. As it happens, it never came up. Still, if my players are happy, and they seemed well enough pleased, all will work out. Now, to design a third episode.

Thanks for reading.

Sincerely,

The Composer

Once Upon a Gilsonite Mine . . .

Welcome back, space fans. Let's recap the first take of the pilot episode of our Pulp Alley campaign . . . Showdown at the Graceful Ghost:

The scenario pitted two rival crews against one another. Some might call them smugglers, or even pirates, but we'll give them the benefit of the doubt and simply call them independent merchants specializing in "small, high-value parcel" acquisition and delivery. In the left corner was the opponent, Goldberg Street, with his trusted crew: Otto, Sturgis, Goldberg Street himself, Legs, the Beard, Lawrence (or Lawry), and Gunner.

In the right corner we had the Lacerock Band: "Shorty" McMaster, Kara "Stone" Mason, Kitty Luong, Jackie Chu, Musetta, Lorita McMaster, and van Erickson.

To their mutual chagrin they were joined by Squiggycap with his Mystic Crewe of Bashus: "Lumber" Jack, Four Arms the Wonder Twin, Fritz, and to the right Deuce and a Half (who closely resembles a truck in the right light.)

Also appearing in this episode were Doc Hobble and Mr. Burn with their Delightful Dreadlies and dis-orderlies.

Sabryin Owlfeather's Lace Rock Gang entered from the southeast corner of the table. (Assuming that the Graceful Ghost sign is south.) Goldberg Street entered from the northwest. Glodberg Street's boys immediately vaulted the fence and took up positions behind the large hill in the middle of the mine complex. Jackie Chu's gang fanned out behind the several buildings immediately inside the gate, with Shorty McMster heading the long way 'round the machine shed.

The first couple of turns were uneventful, but by turn three a large firefight had broken out in the center of the complex with the dwarves essentially pinned behind the ridgeline and the (mostly) humans spread out in the entry yard.

The first casualty was Kitty Luong, whom you see behind the cylindrical white shed. She took the fall on about turn four. (She's a very talented girl, but small and slightly breakable. Oops.) On turn five or six Shorty McMaster came around the back and outflanked the pirates. At that point several of them ran for cover inside the mine and found the loot. They took the crates closest to the door.

A turn or two later, after the dwarves vacated with their booty, Shorty entered the mine and found the Graceful Ghost . . .

only to be possessed and start shooting like a slightly mad elf at everyone nearby. Maybe he thought his dear shepherdess Lorita had run off with some other clown. On the positive side, given the outflanking maneuver, all nearby clowns were as dwarfish as Shorty and twice as piratical.

At this point Chu's gang began charging up the middle of the site, hoping to stop Goldberg Street from getting all the darned loot. This lead to an interesting mele on the hill and some smaller fights over by the fence at the northwest corner, where the dwarves were trying to make a break for it. Ultimately by turn seven The Beard, Otto, Lawry, Shorty, and Lorita had each taken loot and begun to make a run for it.

On turn eight, things got a bit more sticky. Cap'n Squiggycap must have heard the funfire (gunshots to Orky ears) and decided there was a party over at the old mine. He and his boys showed up. Of course he came in on the east side of the site. Must have been camped out there in the wilderness somewhere. And on turn nine things got even more interesting when Doc Hobble and Mr. Burn showed up too with their collaborative moving sculpture project. (Angry repurposed junkpiles complete with large weapons and a desire to shoot . . . everyone. Think of it as an ensemble performance piece.)

The dreadful dreadnaughts saw no need to jump the fence. They just knocked it down and began dispensing their Christmas crackers. It's a party. Everyone should play! While Squiggycap was madly enlivening, or should I say endeadening the soiree on the hillside the dreadfuls broke up the dances down by the fence. And heroes great and small began to drop under the pressure of bullets from three or four directions and axeheads the size of snowshovels. (Though doubtless weighing much more.)  Hary went down. Kara Stone took a fall. Even Chu lost his footing and let Lawry get away. Of course Shorty "Klick" McMasters, brother Lawry, and Otto were spreading the typical dwarven love for their friends the orks, but no matter how many fell there always seemed to be more.

At the end of the night we ran out of time. Chu and Kara were pretty much surrounded by hostile green. Van Erikson was down in a bad place and Musetta was likely to be following shortly after. The dwarves were mostly suddenly in a position to bolt and escape, though it was doubtless going to be a little harry for Goldberg Street, Legs, and Gunner on the hilltop. I figure in the end the rest of both gangs probably got away. Chu's just too tough for that bunch of greenskins. But where did Kitty end up? Why didn't she show up at the rendevous? Maybe it's time for Goldberg Street and Chu to call a truce and figure a few things out.

Tune in next time as Chu and the rest of the gang attempt a good old fashioned snatch-and-grab in Hello Kitty on a Hot Tin Roof.

Goblins of Greater Stature

A hundred years ago a goblin was a sort of evil faerie. Something slightly unseelie, perhaps, not quite right. And an orc was a typographical error. Fifty years ago all things seelie and else were bent to the will of an English philologist cum storyteller and goblins turned green, grew several feet taller, and emerged rather more loathsome and of slightly fouler disposition. I suspect it was an uncomfortable metamorphosis. Of course he trademarked the enlarged breed in the midst of some long forgotten legal fight, though it was never a mark much respected in the storytelling community. Among the many abusers of said was one British workshop with which his estate no doubt had some small contact, thanks to a licensing agreement. While they absconded with the species for their own use, much like everyone else, they had the courtesy to change the name and respect the professor's mark. Thus did orcs emerge from the memetic closet as orkz. While they might be phonetically and genetically indistinguishable from their fantastic forbears they too were subjected to rather tedious and incredibly loathsome (trade)marking, which I shall deign to respect just as they did before me. Et dimite nobis debita nostra sicut et nos demitimus debitoribus nostris, gentlemen. I'm going to need it.

Right: down to the sinnin' part.

In some mythologies, goblins ride wolves. In space, they fight them:

The fine gentleman above, whom I sometimes call the "Mountain King" after Grieg's incidental music to Peer Gynt, was officially christened Gazghkull Mag Uruk Thrakha. Say that three times fast. The name feels like a nod to the professor, in whose orcish tongue "Ash nazg durbatuluk" means "One ring to rule them all." In the same tongue "uruk," of course, means orc. (Or ork if you prefer filing lawsuits to being named in them. Sometimes it truly is better to give . . . )

Aside: what happens to unholy things when they are christened? Maybe that's all a part of the dark gestation that brought us orc/ks in the first place. Seal your lovely little gobli-mogwai up in a chrysalis. Pour in some holy chrism sometime after midnight has tolled. After the smoke clears a hunched little man with green skin and a bad case of halitosis emerges. And you realize something has gone very very wrong. I recommend you run at this point. And you best hope he isn't riding one of these:

Every police officer will gladly tell you that the red ones go faster. Just why we're not sure, but they do. Red fire trucks, red corvettes, red cobras, and indeed little red wagons with rubber-band drives.

Of course, one of the great joys to this, my second army, was converting things. The observant will have noticed a gun not found in any Citadel catalog next to his Mountain Majesty. It's built up around a toy rocket launcher from a transformer, fitted out with panzer wheels, zoid gears, and a modest variety of other bits and bobs. Below you can see what happens when an ork encounters a beakie on the workbench.

Note: my friend Mike played the blood angels. Of course sometimes even orks take to piracy. When they do Germy Warfare calls 'em Freebooters. (With a z.)

Sure, that's one of Mike's on the stick, and I confess that I had it out for the Ultramarines on general principle. But the conversions are on the Flash Git, not the banner. Other flash gitz might find themselves in possession of chainsaws from titans or just too many arms and legs:

Of course the very most impressive conversions are those that are indeed meant to be conversions. Orkoid conversions. Once upon an orky time certain mad orks, mad even by the rather low standards of the greens, joined forces thus:

On battlefields all over the known universe they collected the bits and pieces cast off in the heat of combat, and from the detritus they assembled . . . dreadnaughts. Or perhaps dreadfuls. (Dread little and dread less, really.) Ghastly, crummy, tiny, dreadful dreadnaughts.

These have piracy written all over them. (Appropriate of Freebooters, yes?) Mixed in with a job-lot of second-hand orks I bought were two remarkably shoddy Imperial dreadnaughts. These were truly horrible little creatures, not really suitable for any imperial army. They were cratered and pocked from some far off battle; tired, miscast rejects. But being frugal, ork pirates can salvage the wreckage of even the most dubious armaments.

After hacking and slashing, and with the addition of titanic arms, key fobs, mecha(nized) legs and a gremlin or two they became a virtual mob of killer tin cans. (Which was how you got a lot of dreadnaughts into a Goff army back in the day.) There were even rules for the things. Sort of.

So in conclusion, by the mid nineties I had two good-sized armies: one Imperial and one green. (Or red, really. But to hear the red-staters tell it greens are just rebranded reds, ahem commies rather. So maybe this works.) More would follow later, but not until after the downfall. I like my stuff pre-heresy, thank you very much, so it was all after-market from about 1995 onwards.