As a bit of a foil to riot's post (found here, curse me for not taking pictures... though given how I didn't have any painted minis... perhaps a good idea), here is the (Mis)-Adventures of the Blademasters... traitors to Naggaroth, outcasts from Ulthuan and Athel Loren, and drunken sots all!
So I'm playing Mordheim... yet another system... though I've got the minis, thanks to never properly starting Warhammer Fantasy Battle. For the first game, however, I was a lazy bastard and proxied a whole load of WarMachine minis in... yay me... -.-
Anyway, here we go with a brief tale of a chance encounter between elves, some ghouls, some zombies and Davy Crockett! Given a combination of silly camping, all round ribbing and bad luck, the elves didn't do much that was productive, hence the light tone. First attempt at tongue in cheek prose in a while... ah well...
Drunks, Sharpshots and Dancing Ghouls
"So... what're we doing here, again?" Erais grumbled, unslinging his bow as dusk approached.
"Speculating, I guess," his cousin Eleyn shrugged after a notable silence from their Shadow Master, Zakorra.
The following silence was disrupted by a hiccough and the rather misfit crew of elves rolled their eyes collectively as Azenna stumbled along... half-naked and swilling a goblet of low-grade wine, waving her ritual knife about.
Growling under her breath, Zakorra turned on the journeyman witch, "Will you shut it?!"
"I love you, too, sister!" the Shadow Weaver hollered, taking another gulp.
"Don't bother, Zaki...," the Master's cousin, Zoraia turned her away from the drunken witchling and pointed her towards the town ahead, grinning stupidly, "You've got more pressing issues, haven't you?" she was bouncing on the balls of her feet by now.
Zakorra huffed and turned to Erais, "Go find yourself a crow's nest, if you will."
Setting out on the run, the Shadow Warrior approached the nearest ruin and leapt up onto the first floor. The others, even the swaying and burping Azenna, followed behind him.
"Are you going to be sober when arrows and swords start flying?" Eleyn asked sharply, trying to hold the Weaver steady.
"Um... probably not, but alcohol never stopped a mage from casting..."
"Trying to cast, you mean...," Malice commented acidly, before adding under his breath, "Silly cow..."
For his troubles, he got a thump over the head from Azenna's goblet, "Oh, I spilt some... thanks for that... you're welcome... don't mind if I do...," ending her one person mini-dialogue with a refill.
"Shut up, you lot!" Zakorra snapped, "What?!"
"Ghouls... over there," Erais gestured from a window in the ruins out towards the town.
"Alright, let's go... and slap her a few times will you?"
The two other Shadow Warriors shrugged and raced after their colleague, while Eleyn struck the drunken Azenna out of her stupor until she was able to, if barely, lope along by herself. Once all eight of them were within the ruins, Malice darted up onto the first floor as well, taking a speculative shot at the line of ghouls that shambled up, not bothering to stop to see if his shot made any impression.
Erais had already climbed to the higher level, while Eleyn and Zoraia peered about.
"Oooo, shiny!" Zoraia suddenly exclaimed, darting out towards the courtyard where she found something and held it up.
"Well, what is it?" Karra asked from a vantage point just above her.
"I 'unno!" the Shadow Walker shrugged, looking at the glowing stone, "It's pink and shiny... s'bout all I can tell about it."
"Get back, Zora, you're in the way!" Zakorra drew, after eyeing a Dreg on the other side of the courtyard. She let loose and the vampire-minion dropped in a heap, but a flapping arm suggested a peeved vampire-minion at best.
Malice stepped out, but Zoraia held up her hand, before diving onto the ground. A direwolf came barrelling at the Shadow Walker and he was knocked out with a putrid claw.
"Where's this bastard's leash?!" Zoraia hollered.
Zakorra glared at Eleyn, who sighed and jumped down running around the wall and managing to hack one of its forelegs out from underneath it. Unfortunately, Azenna was drinking again. Peering around a wall, she took a sip and blew a mist around Eleyn, whose visage slowly shimmered in and out of view, made worse by the lessening light.
"What the hell was that for?!" Lorrana shouted for, "We'd appreciate the help up here, thanks!" she shot rather wildly across the courtyard at the still prone Dreg, but her arrow bounced off the steps behind it.
Suddenly, the Shadow Weaver paused and looked over at where Erais had spotted the ghouls. After a few moments, she started cackling.
"Oh, that looks fun!"
All of the elves, Eleyn and Zoraia excepted, occupied as they were by the growling direwolf, looked in Azenna's direction. The ghouls were in single file... shambling along with almost as much discipline as a human militia. Even their rotting arms swung in unison. They looked as though they were dancing along, one of them with a couple arrows jiggling, stuck in its back where Malice had shot it.
"Woohoo!" Azenna jumped up and started side-stepping along, ignoring everything else, even when Zoraia clambered onto the direwolf's back and started maniacally stabbing it in the spine with both her weapons.
"Oh, for fu...," Zakorra started, before they all heard the report of a long-gun.
Azenna cried out and fell in a heap, "My hip!" she screamed.
Karra raced to her side and looked at the witch's hip. She had spilled her wine on it, the bullet had struck her shoulder.
"You're an idiot!" she snapped, slapping the Weaver, before dragging her to her feet, "Who voluntarily walks into a marksman's line of sight."
"Well, screw you too," Azenna groped for her wineskin, "He's human... how was I supposed to know he could hit something?!"
Karra slapped her forehead with her free hand.
"Cold yet, in that silly get-up of yours?"
"Don't you know?" she was abruptly sober, "Dark Elf... we're hot, know it, and don't give a damn about anything else!"
On the other side of the courtyard, several fights had broken out amongst some zombies and humans. Looking about her, Zakorra grumbled, signalling for the others to leave lesser species to solve their lesser species' affairs.
"Hey, I found one, too!" Erais called from above them.
"Found one what?!" the Shadow Master shouted back.
"One of these, catch!" he dropped one of the stones that Zoraia had found down from the higher level.
"I got it," Loranna said, looking up, catching it a moment later, before losing her balance and falling onto the ground, one floor down, yelling about her ankle in consequence.
Erais presented himself a moment later.
"How long were you up there for?"
He shrugged, "About half an hour?"
"And you only just found one?"
"Er... hmmm...," he nodded and quickly slinked away.
"Great... I'm surrounded by a drunken spellcaster and some brilliant archers... pity they don't have a brain among them," Zakorra watched as Eleyn dragged the wounded Malice away.
"Ugh...," she grumbled as they walked away, "I bet someone... somewhere is writing a turgid sonnet about this."
"Well... not me, at least...," Zoraia gently shook Azenna's still half-full wineskin and grinned, "Drink?"
that is QUALITY!
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