Dark Heresy and things not quite dead...

Its been a busy couple of weeks! Work is an omnipresent as ever, but I've managed to get some good gaming in, possibly to the detriment of the career... Started off nearly two weeks ago at Robert's trying my hand at his 40k Dark Heresy game. I'm not too sold on the 40k thing to be sure; granted, I'm quite in to the Necromunda at the moment, but that's a hangover from 15 years ago that still niggles away. The new aircraft models GW have put out are amazing, and I'd love to get my hands onone of the kits, but the idea of buying into the game itself still leaves me lukewarm at best. Maybe its the sci-fi over fantasy, having to bend my head around yet another set of rules (tooooo many going on at the moment already), or just the massive expense of getting into another GW hobby (Gods, and painting it too!), but it all leaves me a little cold, so when Robert suggested this Dark Heresy I was a bit non-committal. I am all for backing him up at starting up something new with the lads, but with so much on just now, I was pretty non-committal.

Well, I was fucking wrong again... It was awesome!! I gave tall John a lift round and only intended to show face and watch the start, but I ended up rolling up a character, taking part, and was there all night! It set in the 40k universe, so there's a deep common background to latch onto for all players, even a drifting amateur like me. Character generation is all through D100s, even the name, if you like. I got 'Gunner' Cutter, a scummer. I'd like to imagine him to looking something like this:

but, no, I rolled him up as being a 50 year old ex-penal legion guardsman, so he probably looks more like this...

The mission was run by Robert from the Dark Heresy rulebook / sourcebook, and was called 'Illumination'. Lots of the taint of chaos and such going on in a hick ass planet in the armpit of the Imperium. We have been co-opted into the Inquisition into going and sorting it out. So far there's crazy natives, besieged Imperials living in a fortified outposts, barren wastes full of flowers that only grow on the blood of the dead, and a nutter in the middle of nowhere building a cathedral to fill his time (why do films and games like this always have massive cities and buildings in the middle of nowhere? Where the hell do all the resources come from? The Quarries? The labour? The fields of crops? Its like Edoras all over again...)

The combat system in this game is very different form anything else I've played. Each player has HP, and once they're gone, you go to damage charts and levels of fatigue to represent brutal critical wounds and bleeding out on the floor. So far I've discovered burst fire with Cutter's autopistol is a winner, and I've been blowing legs off left, right and centre! Only legs mind, cant seem to hit anything else... We've got quite an interesting group of players for this - the Craddock, Angus, tall John, James R. and myself, and the small group is an interesting counterpoint to D&D. Amongst us we have a scribe (the only one who can drive), two scummers (the fighters, I guess), a psyker and an assassin. We finished up with shit going down at the Cathedral - us down on nthe ground mowing down crazed natives, whilst Angus sat up in the bell tower tapping out gringos with his rifle. Immense. Cant wait til the next one!

The following Sunday at the club, we'd arranged a Warhammer doubles. 2k a player, Angus' Dwarves eith Craddock's Ogres vs. Robert's DoC and my VCs. This was rare, Robert and I NEVER fight on the same side! Last time was in the dim and distant sticky era of 2006... a long ass time. This was a great sized game for a club night - quite literally, just right. The other side's army looked tiny after deployment, compared to my massive swathes of Zombies and Skellies, and Robert's hordes of daemonettes and bloodletters, they were all strung out trying to fill their table edge. Craddock's ogres filled the centre, with Angus fielding a chunky unit of veteran warriors on either side, in front of his cannons, wirh the Anvilway up the back. Craddock looked like he'd be doing the bulk of the fighting, with a massive unit of ironguts up the middle, holding his BSB and a Level4 caster. Nasty! Robert and I literally had to cram our units in. We had the terrorghiest and flamers on our left, but other than that it was all my tarpit cheese. We both had our punching arm going up the right: Robert with his bloodletter horde, herald and monumental looking skullcrusher, myself with the maxed out Strigoi King, Grave Guard, crypt horrors and for the first time at the club, a Mortis Engine.

Angus and Craddock won the toss, but it started perfectly for us, as Craddock's L4 caster disappeared off into the warp on his first cast, doing no damage to us! Both sides rushed in to engage, and for all of us (except Angus, predicatably!) deployment created a bit of a headache as we tried to get the big hitting units to engage in the desired place. Robert's Khorne troops made a dash up the flank for Angus' dwarves, with his Skullcrusher getting cannon balled repeatedly on the way in and reduced to a single wound. In the centre his daemonettes charged in and cleaved up some ogres, but both sides soon got bogged down. This led to a standoff between my centre units and the rest of Craddocks as we decided who was going where. Frustratingly, my Strigoi Ghoul King - all 465 pts of him - was stuck out of the fight for 3 turns as I couldn't fit his unit in to engage, and the big stooshy blocked his path.

On the left, Robert's vanguard cavalry took out Angus' self immolating cannon. Didn't stop my terrorgheist taking a chunky hit, but it survived long enough to halve the mournfangs and kill the ogre cannon chariot thing with its scream. At this point, by turn 2, it looked like we'd got it sewn up; Angus and Craddock may as well have packed up and gotten a pint in. Horribly though it would swing lurchingly their way as the game wore on. On the right, Angus' Dwarves were literally proving stubborn. The skullcrusher got pulled down, and the dwarves were grinding down the letters and refusing to break. Although it miss-struck on ancestral rune, the Anvil was dishing out lightning bolts like the duracell bunny!The surviving mournfang munched through a whole unit of 30+ zombies by itself, and Angus' other clump of dwarves charged in to smash down 40 skeletons into bonemeal. I put all my fighting eggs in the Strigoi Ghoul King's generous basket for this game, with a couple of necros to cast and replace the zombie cheese - no hero vamps meant there was nothing to stiffen the line and I was getting torn up! Angus' dispel pile was taller the Eiffel Tower as well, so my necro magic wasn't able to stop the rot...

 

Still we was killing them just as fast until Angus cannonballed the last wounds off the Mortis Engine in turn 5. By this point it went off like a nuclear bomb. 2d6 S5 hits to everything in 17" radius! It nerfed Roberts letters, Angus' left flank dwarves, Craddock's surviving ogres, Robert's daemonettes, and some of my own graveguard, and just about emptied half the table! This was all because Robert failed the regen roll whilst I was takin' a piss, or course!

Craddock's last Mournfang was pulled down by my last - and apparently overwhelming - unit of zombies, whilst his leadbelchers fled for three turns on the bounce, so he was tabled. Heh. Robert just had dregs and a few scraps left over. The Bloodletter herald emerged as the only survivor on our right flank and made for the cannon on the hill, whilst his remaining flamer pumped off a few shots. His sorceror general had miscast and lost his levels, so had retreated behind terrain. This left Angus and me to duke it out!

Strigoi Ghoul King: so angry!

The strigoi King finally got in and ripped heads off - Angus' dwarves broke, but I couldnt catch. Game seemed in the bag, all good. In his last turn, Angus used the anvil to lightning bolt the Strigoi's grave guard unit, reducing them to one rank of 5 models. No look out sir rule to save the big man now. He also zapped the crypt horrors and weakened them. The inevitable cannonball which followed went right down the line of grave guard, pinged the Strigoi - who failed his regen save - and blew his napper off. Shit. End of the phase, my army did its crumble test, nerfing the crypt horrors, and the last of the grave guard. About a 1000 VPs off one bloody shot!!!!

My zombie ogre subbed ably as a crypt horror for this game - still deciding whether to fork out the GW rate, or ebay some old ogres and convert them...

All of us finished on dregs after that. Down to VPs to determine winners, and Robert and I won it by about 180 pts - far too close a margin, considering it was over 3000 VPs to each side! Great game though, and great fun. I'm definitely going to take the Mortis Engine again - cant say no to the nuke effect, just hope not to vapourise so much of my own stuff next time!

Tuesday night there was more Undead happenings as we finally got another D&D night organised. Martin continued GM'ing the 'Death Unchained' Ravenloft adventure, although Kev and Rambo couldn't make it. Their PCs got conveniently ditched and we made it out of the impaler's grave yard, back into the city, where I got possessed briefly before passing it onto a dog I think, and we got into a (friendly) wizard's tower. There we found out what all the magic rings we discovered do, which I'm sure is pretty key as if we face this domain's lord, we're going to get ripped up! We finished off in a spider infested, sinister tunnel leading from the wizard's tower presumably into the Dark Lord's keep.

I've been working on the BBC stuff for Ross, so no time this fortnight to do any Necromunda campaign stuff for the club - hope to get some done soon though. This weekend I'm doing another Flames of War game in the league - seems to be plenty of players floating about for it at the moment, maybe even Andy too! Robert is leading the massive 40k multiplayer this weekend, which should be interesting to see as well.

Tanks for the memories

Got some Flames of War on at the club tonight, first time in over a year and bending my head around the rules was initially rather slowwwww. Picked up quickly though, thanks the expert knowledge of Dougie! It was a 600 pt game against Alan, my first in the club FOW league. Odd opponents, as my Wehrmacht Infantry company were going up against Alan's own Germans. We played a scenario to capture objectives, in either deployment zone with a ruinous village in between us. Both sides started with half strength, with our other platoons coming on from turn 3 onwards, on a d6 roll of 5+.

I got lucky early on and managed to be the first to occupy a building in the centre. Easy to see cover makes the difference in this game as it made my troops almost invulnerable to infantry fire. Unfortunately Alan had some heavier stuff, with a PaK40 and some light man-packed field guns, who blew them away later on - but by then I'd halted his advance and he wouldn't have enough time to reach his objectives.

StuG-D - three sheets of tinfoil and some glue for armour.

My HMGs were pretty decent, but range wasnt so great at only 24", but at least the smallarms could only make 16". I had mortars but no spotter - hence range was only 24" and couldn't go indirect, or 'barrage'. Learned my lesson there - Alan used his CO to spot and extended the mortar range to 40", and he had lots of mortars! Star of the show for me were my StuG-D, making its solo run up the flank to seize an objective (albeit revealing that its armour is in fact as thick as tinfoil), and my Stukas! I lucked out on these as I managed to radio them in every turn! The blast they lay down is huge and the effect completely stymied Alan, psychologically if not in real terms. His casualties weren't too severe off the bombings, but my hit rolls were pretty ropey. It'll be interesting to see what they do to tanks (and if they show up so regularly next time).

Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Yes, its a plane.

Roll the next opponent! Should be much quicker next time, and judging by watching Dougie and Kev play after me, I'll be facing a much bigger force!

Also this week, I posted up the first scenarios for the club Necromunda campaign. Four games were played in total - two against the bugs, and two against the zombies. Honours were split, as the 'critters' each won one game, with the players winning the other in each category. Seemed like the lads had good fun too. The zombie plague was a manic meat wall in one game, as Craig's Delaque ganger 'Bulldog' tore through 26 zombies by himself, in one game. Immense!

Folowing up on a previous post, after the Necromunda players chose their factions, this is what I posted up for them to do for their first campaign games, and what the lads took on tonight:



Here are the scenarios you can play to take part in the first stages of the campaign. If you read on, you'll notice two of them are faction specific. Challenge another necro player (dont matter which side they're on) to play the bugs or zombies, and if you win, you score campaign points for your side. The other scenarios are all out of the sourcebook. To earn campaign points from these, find a player from the opposing faction and challenge them to a game! The first set of campaign scenarios are below. I'll leave these up for a couple of weeks until the next set come up.

BUG HUNT!
The word is there’s a critter infestation up near Blumpkin Hole. Papa Tango’s watering hole up in them parts is losing business fast, and it aint just liquor he’s pushing through there, if ye take my meanin’. Profits are down, and punters are getting eaten faster than a guilder can count his credits! The Papa wants you to get over there and crush some bugs before the Double Deuce goes outta business.

Genestealer Brood: this mission is only available to gangs in Papa Tango’s faction.

Dont let it touch you! Dont let it touch you!

Scenario forces and rules: The bug 'gang' consists of 5 genestealers (gang rating 1400). The Papa is paying out a 30 cred bounty on each genestealer head taken (no tax). A model in the ‘player’ gang must spend a turn stood next to the body of a fallen genestealer, without shooting or fighting in order to cut off its head. Gangers who roll ‘captured’ on the serious injury chart may instead have a gene seed implanted in them (refer to GM). The Genestealers do not take bottle tests – they must be expunged or they will eat you all! Deployment follows standard gang fight rules.

Campaign Points: Winning this for the Papa will gain your faction 2 campaign points.


PLAGUE
Bad news up in Dustfalls; in fact there’s no news in Dust Falls, ‘cause everyone’s turned into a frakkin’ zombie! Papa Tango put a bad batch of Spook into the town, which caused an outbreak of the neurone plague. A few folks start getting’ bitey and before you know it, the whole settlements shuffling about feedin’ on each other’s brains! Dust Falls sits on the caravan route up to the Grimshaft. If the guilders and green hivers get word of this, then Boss Blake may as well just quit now! The Boss wants you to get your ass over there and start clearing the place out. Find the powerplant and get the generators fired up. Once they’re on, the Boss will be able to get some work teams up there to fire up the electric fences to herd the zombies into one enclosure where they can be take care of.

Plague: this mission is only available to gangs in Boss Blake’s Faction.

Mounds of squidgey rotten flesh coming for ya!

Scenario forces and rules: Set up a 4’x4’ table with one multi-levelled structure at the centre. The player gang must get to this structure and activate the generator using the control panel (use the water still or other suitable piece of scenery), located on the top floor of the multi-levelled structure. The zombie player deploys first, putting down 5d6 zombies. They maybe placed anywhere on the table, except for any of the possible player deployment zones. Zombies may be on any level of a multi-storey building (including the generator building), but must be at least 3” apart from each other. The player sets up second, and may choose his deployment zone. Player deployment zones are any one of the 8”x 8” corners of the battlefield. Additional zombies are attracted by the sounds of gunfire during the battle. 3d3 zombies arrive at the start of each of the zombie player’s turns, from one randomly generated table edge. Plague zombies follow all the rules on pages 26 and 27 of the Outlanders Rulebook, except that ONE 2d6 roll for zombie movement is made each turn, and applied to all zombies on the table.

To set off the generator, one of the player’s models must stand next to the control panel for one full turn without moving, shooting or fighting in hand to hand. If you manage to ‘kill’ (put out of action) 10+ zombies, the Boss will send his friendly doc over to see to your injured boys (regardless of success or failure). If you manage to activate the generator, the Boss will reward your gang with a ‘free’package left for you at the trading post (one free roll on the rare tradechart).

Campaign Points: Winning this for the Boss will gain your faction 2 campaign points.

Everyone's Got a Past...

I finished reading Joe Abercrombie's 'Red Country' last night. Should have been working, but meh. By Jupiter's cock, I'm a slow ass reader! Really enjoyed it though, just as with all his books so far. Written in the style of a spaghetti western (distinctly not to my taste usually), but so well done it was like immersing yourself in mud just and having fun rolling about in it! Great characters, well written, and although set in a part of the Abercrombie world that I initially had doubts about, I was gripped from the outset. Good to have a lot of the old faces come out in the book, and to see the hand which the passage of years had dealt them. Shivers and Ninefingers - immense! Not quite as good as the last one - 'The Heroes' - which was stand out brilliant, and a different type of book, but excellent nonetheless. I read his blog quite regularly and I like his approach: a lot of his world is based upon his experiences of D&D when he was in uni, even up to this day (imagine playing D&D with George R. Martin!!!). There is no black and white, just shades of grey; everyone is a bit of a cunt in their own way.

He set it up with a trilogy, and has now done three linked stand alone books. Each of the stand alone has its own style and theme. 'Best Served Cold' was a revenge book, 'Heroes' was a battle unfolding over three days (like a fantasy version of the longest day - epic), and 'Red Country' was his western. I wonder where he'll go next? Cant wait!

I've got Harry Sidebottom's 'The Wolves of the North' next up, maybe I'll get through this one by June :-D ?? The fifth book in the series, set around a Roman General - Ballista - with a barbarous Germanic background. I loved the first two of these, set on the eastern limits of the Roman Empire in a time of decline, civil war and war with the Sassanids in the ascendancy. The third book lacked some of the intensity of the others for me, but the fourth one got it back on track. Sidebottom is an Oxford Don of Classical Studies. The amount of detail, just the day to day material culture which he packs in is immense. Easily the most immersive Roman historical fiction I've read yet. Looking forward to going Greek after this and picking up Christian Cameron's latest. His last book, 'Killer of Men' was by far and away the best historical fiction book I've ever read, and I've read a lot...

NECROMUNDA CAMPAIGN

I wrote up the faction setup for the club Necromunda campaign last night. I plan to split the players (sitting at about 10 or so at the moment) into two camps. Here's the introduction on the club website:

NECROMUNDA CAMPAIGN – BLAKE’S PIT

As hinted at before the Necromunda Campaign is based around an area called ‘Blake’s Pit’ deep in the underhive. The pit is the Hive heat sink, a shaft sunk down into the planet’s mantle to capture geothermal heat to power the hive’s countless factories. The walls of this near bottomless shaft are crowded with factories, setlements and tunnels. As the eons wore on, the hive spire grew taller and as the heat sink rose higher and higher, those settlements on the lower levels were left forgotten and abandoned by the hab complexes upper hive. But life down there did not end. As the hivers moved out, the underhivers crept in. One such strata of the heat sink was taken by a gang leader who rose to such prominence that he gave that place his name: Blake – and so, for that part of the world, the shaft became known as Blake’s Pit. You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. You must be cautious…

With the opening of the Grimshaft, Blake’s Pit offers the only route to this new lode of resources and wealth. With money surging into the town, two magnates have risen to make their bid for power: Boss Blake, grandson of the eponymous Blake who gave this place its name, and Papa Tango, a shadowy gangster and racketeer behind most of the region’s watering holes and illicit gambling dens. Both harbour ambitions of making Blake’s Pit their own, and as their gather their forces, the gangs of these parts are aligning themselves to either side. All of you who call yourselves gang ‘leaders’ of these parts have a had a visit from the representatives of either faction (check your inbox for the PMs). Neither side cares to discriminate – they’ll take shaven headed Delaques, Van Saars with their ridiculous beards, even slimy scavvies or shunned outlanders. Even the arbites aint above a bribe or two in the right circumstances!

Read your PM, respond to the one you want to side with. You may even elect to ignore both and go it alone, but that is a lonely and dangerous path to tread… Get your replies in lads, this campaign is about to hot up!

All players were sent these two approaches in their PMs. Hopefully, they'll respond to one and 'pick' their side... First up, Papa Tango's pitch:

“So you see how it is right? You get it?” Quaego took another huge draw on the stogie, his eyes narrowing on you again in that disconcerting way of his. The man’s bulk was immense – the broad expanse of his chest seemed to fill the booth, whilst the swarthy hand gripping his synthale bore more than a passing resemblance to the grip-claw on a forklift loader.

The evening had begun the same as most. After haggling over some exorbitant contraband kit down at the trader post, you and some of the lads had headed up to the Titty Twister to burn some creds and score some action. Quaego owned the joint. Well, maybe ‘owned’ was stretchin’ the truth some. Quaego ran the ‘Twister for the Papa. He kept the business runnin’ - guarded the merchandise, pimped the whores, and cracked a few skulls when heads needed bustin’. You tried and failed to stop your eyes restin on those two great meathammers the man had for hands. Aint no messin’ with Quaego. Tonight was the first time he’d asked you anything other than ‘whatcha havin’?’, and it was feelin’ real hard to say no.

No one messes with Papa Tango's boys!

Quaego blew out a long, reeking plume of smoke. Came to be that sitting in this booth was like sucking on the exhaust manifold of a rhino, but you didn’t even notice. The black giant’s eyes never left your face, and right then it felt like that bastard was in your head watching every thought that popped out.

“Like the Papa says”, Quaego’s voice was like gravel, and deeper than the pit. Yours would be too if you had a chest the size of a fucking cathedral. “Blake thinks he owns this town. Squaring to set himself up as some kinda Governor.” The towering pimp leaned in close, his massive bulk making a major fucking violation of your personal space. “Aint nothing makes that man any better than you, me or some damn dirt-grubbin’ ratskin!” A share of the venom drained out of him some, Quaego slumped back in his bench and took another draw on the stogie. Only now did you notice how ridiculously small it looked in those massive hands. Not the time or the place to be havin’ a fucking giggle to yourself though.

“When a man like that sets himself to power, the likes of you and me end up being bad for business. Real quick we got people gunnin’ for us, and we end up dead or forced out for pastures new. Word is hes got the arbites in his pocket. Squarin’ up to hold the guilds too. A man with a racket like that aint got no time, or need, for an honest man workin’ his share”. Quaego at least had the good fucking grace to crack something close to an ironic grin on that one. Stood to reason that a man running a big business down here didn’t want no armed gangs raidin’ his assets. Something else was comin’ here, you were sure. Quaego leaned in alarmingly close again, his fetid breath hot on your face. Here came the pitch.

“Papa Tango aint standing for no self-declared governor ruinin’ our show down here. He’s got the credits, and he’s recruitin’. Aint no orders – this aint no army – but you join us then just occasionally the Papa asks you to do a job for him. A few months of work and this whole thing just blows over, everything back to normal. In the meantime,” Quaego’s face broke into a leering grin, revealing two neat rows of chromed teeth, “you and your boys get all the creds and whores you could ever need.” Quaego leaned back in his bench, lifting the stogie for another self-satisfied drag, eyes never leaving your face. Beads of sweat trickled down your brow as your wore your own grin like a mask. This was some seriously heavy shit. The lads would go wild for what Quaego had laid on the table here, but getting tied in with the Papa was no fucking joke. Once the old bastard noticed you, he owned you for life. Seen it happen too many times before. But the money, the fucking money… Quaego puffed out another toxic plume of smoke. The booth was getting so thick with it, you were struggling to make out the pimp’s face across the table.

“Well boy, whats it to be? You with us?”

*             *             *             *             *             *             *             *             *             *             *          

To join Papa Tango’s faction and get your share of the mountain of creds, reply to this message. During future campaign missions, you will be called upon to fight for the Papa. Doing so will earn you considerable wealth, although the challenge, danger, and moral outrage may be great.

  

And now, here's the pitch from Boss Blake's man:

“Now, what we got here is failure to communicate.” Silas kicked his chair back and strode slowly across to the office’s single grimy window. He stood there with his back to you, and as the silence threatened to draw out to uneasy lengths, you began to notice how uncomfortable your chair was. It was never comfortable being in the oppressive grasp of authority. Now Silas may have liked to call himself ‘sheriff’ of these parts – even though he was as crooked, corrupt and bent as the next man, and a long way off representin’ anything approachin’ the law – but truth be told the man found himself in the envious position of representin’ the power round these parts:  the eponymous Blake.  So when Silas called you up to his office, it seemed the done thing for a man to go and show his face where it was wanted.

“Some people you just cant reach,” thank the Emperor he was speakin’ again. Aint no way to hold a meeting; nobody talking, just lots of starin’ and waitin’. “So, you get what we had here last week, which is the way he wants it. Well,” Silas nodded out the window to the motionless figure hanging stung up outside, “he gets it”. From where you were sitting, you couldn’t make out the ganger’s rotting form, with his bulging eyes, gorged lolling tongue and voided bowels, but you’d had a right good fucking look on the way in. Silas turned from his vigil and regarded you with a sour eye.

“I don’t like it any more than you,” mindful of the ever present risk of snipers, Silas stepped back from the window and lowered himself back into his unpadded plasteel chair. “Times be changin’ round these parts. Evidence is swinging from a pole right outside” More mental images of pooping eyes and purple faces.  Real nice. “Boss Blake is gonna make somethin’ of this place, like his Daddy, and his Grandaddy before him.  Now that the Grimshaft is open, people gotta reason to come through these parts again. We got guilders, prospectors, hell we even got green hivers! We got a chance here to make somethin’ of this place again.” Silas paused to carefully extract a flask and two tumblers from a particularly deep desk drawer. Working the lid with measured precision he poured out two perfect fingers of Veit, pushing one across the desk towards you. He watched like a sentinel droid as you drank; it was the good stuff, real smooth. Silas was going up in the world if he could afford shit  like this.

Don't cross the Boss!

“Boss Blake wants to clear the place out”. He paused, staring at you in that fucking disconcerting way of his, as if he was inside your head listening to your thoughts before you even had some for yourself.  “Its no good for business having ‘unlicensed’ gangs fucking up all our new trade. Boss Blake aint got the time for no competitors out there neither. You see, he don’t want a slice of the pie, he wants the whole fucking pie.” Silas’ hands were working the flask. Another finger of Veit – one for you, one for him. Only time in your life this man had given you anything other than a week in the cells.

“The way I see it, you’re either part of our solution here, or part of the problem. You come do a bit of work for the Boss, we fit you out with some nice equipment and creds, and put a bit of work your way. In a few months’ time, job done and this all blows over, leaving you and me richer and both of us a whole lot happier.” Silas takes the stopper off the flask for another finger. “So what d’ya say, boy? You in?”

*             *             *             *             *             *             *             *             *             *             *          

To join Boss Blake’s faction and get your share of all the lovely new kit for your gang, reply to this message. During future campaign missions, you will be called upon to fight for the Boss. Doing so will earn you considerable power, although the challenge, danger, and moral outrage may be great.

Quite cheesy, and admittedly heavily influenced by Joe Abercrombie's Red Country, but fun to write. I wonder if anyone will notice the Cool Hand Luke rip offs?