LAGGNOG’s back baby!!! Battle Reps/Fluff (Page 8)

King Redwart

The Unpainter
Yak Comp 3rd Place
Apr 20, 2014
2,648
3,697
148
Balham, London, UK
It’s that time again. The political landscape of Hive Primus is in upheaval as the Great and the Good duke it out for the opportunity to represent their house in the ruling council. Despite these machinations being so vastly elevated from the day to day existence of the down-hive population, the buzz and excitement filters down with the inexorability of seeping effluent, infecting the strata of Hive City with a rare energy that drives power brokers (actual or aspirational) to great lengths in order to impress their superiors.

Dome Zeta-94 was abandoned scarcely thirty years ago, ruled unfit for habitation after its major power feed was severed by a misguided construction crew. Since then, the dank gloom of the dome has remained impenetrable, dissuading all but the most desperate from its reaches. The mostly-intact infrastructure remains a tempting prospect for those seeking to establish a fiefdom of their own, but any expeditions into the dome have vanished without trace.

The torpor of the guild and authorities, lifted momentarily by the excitement of the age, has spurred them to action. Reclamation of Dome Zeta-94 has been bumped to the top of the agenda. Intermittent power has been restored and bands dispatched.

The Hive City House elders, not like to miss an opportunity, have all in their various ways decided to ride the coat-tails of the Guilder surge and begin staking their claim in the dome. Their agents have prompted, cajoled, threatened and bribed the local gangs to form the vanguard of their efforts.

=========================

This is the fluff and batte report thread for the new LAGGNOG and friends Spring 2016 Campaign.

Check out the campaign rules thread here - https://yaktribe.games/community/threads/helmawr-ulanti-2016-primary-season-spring-campaign-a-laggnog-special.4633/

@ineptmule
@nathanie1
@BeardLegend
@JimboDeany
@Alobar
@FluffyBunny
@AndreaWar
@BigAshW
@WJC1987
@Theradrussian
@enyoss
@Konapowder

LET THE GAMES BEGIN...
 
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King Redwart

The Unpainter
Yak Comp 3rd Place
Apr 20, 2014
2,648
3,697
148
Balham, London, UK
The Rusty Screw

To the distant creator I ask,
The reason to my quest,
Am I just a screw in a machine?
Or mere a shadow cast by life.

Mere rusted iron in this oxygenated world,
Excuse the pity brown, I can live with it,
Just find me a tool,
The rusty screw turns like new,
The rusty screw is all they knew.

https://yaktribe.org/necromunda/gang/view/17084/Steel+Standing
 

FluffyBunny

Gang Champion
Apr 18, 2013
408
921
118
The Raven - Goliaths

The Gang - https://yaktribe.org/necromunda/gang/view/20258/Raven

The Fluff:

The Raven were a luckless bunch of lowest-level Goliath enforcers with nothing much to show for themselves until yet another hapless raid took an unusual turn for the better, unles you're Runt.

Having seen the numerous women entering a small non-descript factory, they believed it contained a bountiful supply of narcotics, ripe to be pilfered. One night, after all the women had left, they carefully snuck in. Stumbling through the dark, the debris and the cloth, it soon became apparent why it was stocked by women. The discrete factory manufactured ladies undergarments, much to the gangs delight. After much merriment Gang leader Kain, embarrassed and enraged at yet another cock-up, back handed the juve Runt into a vat of sticky fluid, silencing the gang, and leaving Runt to slowly submerge into the gloop..

Runt however was a speacial Juve, with advanced doggy paddle skills, and when he finally emerged from the fluid, screaming madly, thrashing around and coughing up sticky red liquor, his skin was head to toe red and half the gang ran off from the terror which beheld them. In what would become the second of five intelligent ideas Kain would have in his dismal short life, seeing armed men run from a half drowned Runt of a juve Kain realised the red dye could turn his gang into the terrors he’d always dreamed of.

And so the 'Die or Dye' initiation ritual began. All gang members, current and prospective, would be dunked in a dye of their choosing, as long as it was red, black or white, and held there for 100 seconds, or as high as anyone present could count. They would emerge from the fluid with burnt lungs and not long to live, or emerge an intimidating terror of the underhive, in need of moisturising cream.

With his newly improved rent collectors Kain quickly improved the territories he oversaw, moving lesser gangs on by mere staring contests. Sitting on two spore caves, a friendly doc, a drinking hole and a mine workings he was all set to enter the Dome and supplant his reputation as a failure.



The Plan:

I have excellent territories, income-wise, but would have liked a set of tunnles/vents, and will likely be a prime target, so for now I just need to hang on in there with minimal injuries and let the money roll in until rare trade gives me the advantage.
I play primarily for fun rather than winning, so there will likely be some odd tactical choices and a low win-rate to follow.
They are/will be all painted red white and black.

The Gang:

the%20starting%20gang_zps9n3fnkol.jpg


and close-up of the painted ones:
The%20Painted_zpshg1nnhv3.jpg

flamer, heavy bolter, grenade launcher, power axe, power sword and hand-flamer guys to follow, so some room for upgrades later.
 
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spafe

Executive Officer in charge of Hats
Staff member
Necromunda Custodian
Yak Comp 2nd Place
Tribe Council
Feb 8, 2013
9,317
12,058
283
Tilehurst, U.k.
Seriously impressive, they are the Tate-modern gang of the campaign, and they've come to make a messy bed outta your face!
 

JimboDeany

Gang Hero
Oct 7, 2014
1,016
842
133
Richmond, London
Major Ursa was the very image of calm, quietly looking at his newest recruit Boo Boo as the young lad reached into the ancient door mechanism and freed the crowbar that was jamming the gears.

The Major twisted the end of his mustache patiently and gave a smirk to his right hand man, Teddy, just as the door made a sharp crunching noise and began to swing out. The young juve had to be quick to avoid getting his arm torn off in the door, but managed to leap backwards bouncing off the heavies hulking form in the process.

"What what Teddy, you hear that?" shouted Ursa, "No Boss, wassit?"

"That, is the sound of opportunity. That, is the sound of our fortune"

The door swung back to reveal the dim, hazy skyline of Dome Zeta-94. Untouched for decades this place was ripe for the plucking.

The Major glanced around at the remainder of his troop, "Tally ho lads! Ready to move in five, keep an eye out for any locals and remember - They don't like it up 'em!!"
 
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BeardLegend

I can't grow a beard
Mar 28, 2014
1,613
1,862
158
Southwark, London, SE17
The Ballad of The Bald Deep.

Lex Luthor lounged on his cot, eating rat crispies straight from the box. He didn't even care that they were slightly stale. The hab that he currently called home was a crate, containing little more than food, info slates, guns and gear. An axe was leaning against his wardrobe, a box in which his leather coat was neatly folded, along with his trousers, his t-shirt, his undergarments ... The only thing that he wore were his glare-goggles and his boots. His massive boots. He couldn't sleep without them on. His Plasma pistol was under his pillow, his bolter by his side ...

That was where he stayed, for 149 hours ... waiting for the call. The call which always came. Though this time, it seemed a little late. Lex didn't care. His assets were always primed, they were always ready. It was just as well, because when the call came, Lex didn't like the news. He walked over to his box of gear, with a kind of meat slapping sound, then started to dress.

Dome Zeta-94. Five men. Recon. Scout and report. Nothing more.

Well to hell with that. He knew his value. He'd been round the block enough by now to have earned another dig at a choice assignment. It took him all of five seconds to think his way around that one. Five men. Sub humans didn't count. Especially ones with particular ... talents. The thing to do was try some old channels, from back when he was a juve, aspiring to join The Bronx Town Mafia. That was after their leader, Ghost, had bought it.

Of course, there were those rumors that he hadn't actually died, but had gone into hiding. Yet, to date, Lex had not been able to find out anything plas-crete. He contacted an old friend, "Long" Glenda, concernin his new assignment. He needed non-manpower.

"Got anyone creepy?"

"Got just the freak ..."

And that was that. Fifteen creds down and a Ratling up. Sneaky little bugger too. Named Willow. After that, it was just a matter of logging into one of the data-slates scattered around his container and sending out a message. He took his weapons. He took his food. He took his favourite ID slates, then left his container crate. After walking about fifty meters, he reached into his coat and pressed down on a hand held device.

The container behind him detonated like a Michael Bay sequel.
 

ineptmule

Gang Hero
Feb 17, 2011
1,016
922
148
31
Muswell Hill, UK
Pythia's sullen face, illuminated briefly by the glow of her bacc-stick, regarded her comrades stalking back towards her crow's nest. About her heavy rifle rounds lay scattered, discarded in haste as each of a couple of dozen failed to fire. Not even worth musing on the odds of that occurring; Someone was on the make back in Hive City. Her two spent casings balanced on her knee, cold now to the touch, evidence of the meagre contribution she had made to the battle.

As the last of the their temporary allies fled the field, Tyrene and the juve Amphi scampered up the last stretch of ladder, each greeted with a spiteful flick or brass to the face. The three women looked down from the perch at the scavvies picking over the loot that should have been theirs. Even the hilarity of seeing a scavster gas himself and run screaming when he discovered the 'nades didn't lift their spirits. Get the chips; leave the rest, had been the order. They'd hoped, briefly, that the scavs wouldn't notice the tiny items and discard them there for later retrieval, but among the throng they could see the glittering chips adorning the half-brained leader's neck, strung together on a loop of twisted rat gut.
 

BeardLegend

I can't grow a beard
Mar 28, 2014
1,613
1,862
158
Southwark, London, SE17
The Ballad of The Bald Deep. (Establishing The Territory)

Gang War ... Gang War never changes ...

... But the little men who fight it do change. They wear different coloured garb and carry different equipment. They have different personalities and abilities. Different weaknesses and strengths. Their aims and the outcome of what is to be are manifold, should one conquer over another ...

But Gang War ... Gang War never changes ...

... And every side needs resources.

It is for this reason that upon arriving in his target location, Lex consulted the maps and intel that had been transmitted to him before heading off to find somewhere that he and his gang could lay low and establish themselves. He was running with a small crew for the moment, so it wasn't deemed necessary for him to have control of vast sums of creds. He was attracted to the northern sector of the dome, far from the Guild Outpost established in the center of Zeta-94. There was talk of Pit-slaves to his east but that didn't concern Lex. You could never be sure of when mutants or tin-men would strike but they had their own agendas and could often be contacted and contracted via certain channels. The best thing to do would be to leave them to it, or get them on side. Lex was more interested in what lay to his west. In this case; a lucrative Goliath settlement. Well established and run mostly by a notorious egotist and lunatic.

The Goliath gang, Raven, were fierce but their fighting record until recently had been poor. Their reputations had been in tatters before an accident in a dye factory had given their leader, Kain a rare moment of sanity, lasting long enough to have his second ever, good idea. They'd adopted a nice, new colour scheme and used their ferocious appearance to convince a couple of Spore Miner Collectives into handing over most of their loot, in return for not removing all of the miners teeth with Raven boots. The extortion racket had already become famous within the dome and garnered Raven a new, shiny rep.

Well, a brand new paint-job wasn't going to scare Lex or his assets. Not one of them was green and they were a tight knit squad, though they were only six. They moved in on the most northern settlement that they could find without any large scale operators and slit their way into fast dominance. The cull was swift and bloody, but silent. The tithe paid in Spitting Deeps, named after the Chem Pits to the north, changed hands without most of the settlers ever knowing that they were paying a new party. This included a couple of choice sectors of commerce. Namely the Bar and the Workshop. The crew could lay low at the bar and listen for any choice info. They named it The Siphon Filter and the Landlady was named Wicked Sue ... she tapped barrels and blokes with equal abandon but was as tough as nails. She tolerated the Bald Deep and got along with Kingpin, the gang heavy, the most.

The Workshop was named "Gats n Jammers" and was run by a prodigious mechanist named Scavvy Jay. He didn't seem to care who he paid his money to, as long as he was left alone to work on weapons and armour, which he was more than happy to do for the gang for free. He didn't even have to be coerced. The Chem Pits to the north were capable of yielding a small income but was a dangerous way to bring it in. Lex would probably only resort to it in matters of desperation or discipline. The slag pits to the south could also be worked but for little gain. Doubtless he'd have to assign the menial task to some gang member or another but it was tedious work. This would be left for those who did not distinguish themselves against the coming foe ...

.... for there would be blood in the future ...

... Because Gang War ...

... You get the gist ...
 
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FluffyBunny

Gang Champion
Apr 18, 2013
408
921
118
As I approached the house at the appointed hour, I pondered the makings of my selected foes. Too cowardly to face my mighty Goliaths alone, they had both dared to encroach upon my lands, retribution would be swift. The first, @King Redwart, a regular of a bygone age, was once again inciting his cyborgs to revolt, and and the bikers of @WJC1987, a newcomer of dubious parentage, were coming to add more bodies to the pyre. The big city if full of strange sights, but nothing could prepare me for this oddest of couples as I rounded the corner toe the house. @King Redwart was, as always, presented in his hideous purple tux, sans shirt, bearing his oiled chest to all sundry. Once again he had failed to cover his piece, electing instead to slaver himself in ludicrous quantities of luminous fake tan.

This however was nothing compared to the freak accompanying him. Hunched back, greasy hair, and puss oozing out of every facial orifice, the stench was unbearable, and only my impressive constitution saved me the disgrace of public self-soiling. With sufficient subservience, he proffered a hand by way of greeting, at least I assume it was a 'he,' and as I shook the clawed appendage I made a mental note to bleach my hand thoroughly later. What passed for his mouth said " Hi, I'm an accountant and would like to play some necromunda," but with his eyes he imparted a very different message, "please kill me, I am not worthy, it would be a blessing, please, you're my only hope." Being a charitable man, I agreed, and lead them both into the house to let the three-way battle begin...

The Horde of treasure was set up in the middle, my Goliaths in the red corner, pit slaves in the green, and Orlocks in blue.

1_zpsqmzmckgz.jpg


I advance towards the horde and exchange ineffective fire with the orlocks. Their Heavey stubber unloads 6 shots on the first turn, all missing and going out of ammo. My top flank retreats round, using an overwatching flamer to keep the borg things at bay.

Orlocks take up firing positions, with one bolter shot instantly taking a slave out on the first turn, and the spartacus fan-boyz advance and hide a lot, embarrassed by their lack of paint.

pic%202_zpskepblhy3.png


I start taking casualties, two Juves, one to each enemy, one falling off a tower, and both going out of action.
I've taken out one Orlock in return, and moved closer towards the loot and start to advance on the orlocks.

The Orlocks loose a couple of guys in and exchange of fire on the bridge, and move in towards the loot.

The slaves cower in hiding, but right near the loot and ready to strike. Two have gone down to orlock firepower.

5_zpsi5wfnnbi.jpg


We're all ready to strike, and the pitslaves break cover to make the first climatic move, releasing the pitfighter who killed 5 gangers last campaign. With a starting WS of 5, charging in with shears and claw, vs a Juve, the pitfighter has it in he bag, until she rolls 1s, as does the juve, and the Juve survives with a Fleshwound. People laugh, @King Redwart cries, and the orlocks surprise us all...

6_zps8wbt3yf9.jpg


By firing everything they have into combat.
After much missing, a lucky plasma shot from 'Happy' takes the pitfigher out of action, offering her a painful scream-ridden death. Again, there is much laughing and merriment.

7_zps0wdhy1a2.jpg


My flamer guys moves in, only to fail to wound, and the slaves get two of my guys down. At this stage we are all botlle rolling, and me and the orlocks slink off to lick our wounds. It was a slow start, and a sudden flurry of carnage, and at the end of it all two things were very clear, I had won an outstanding moral victory, and this stench will take ages to get out of my clothes.

The slaves used their winnings to buy back another pit fighter, this time rolling up sprint as the starting skill, and I got a tasty 85 credits through my decent territories, but nothing of note worth buying.
 
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BeardLegend

I can't grow a beard
Mar 28, 2014
1,613
1,862
158
Southwark, London, SE17
Fluff-bunster ... it's a little taboo to describe the genuine features of players in the campaign. It took a lot of guts for most of us to crawl out of the woodwork, shunned as we are by regular society.

You could at least hide your observations in thinly veiled descriptions of gang leaders ... as i do.

Sent from my GT-I9195 using Tapatalk
 
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BeardLegend

I can't grow a beard
Mar 28, 2014
1,613
1,862
158
Southwark, London, SE17
The Ballad of The Bald Deep. (First Fight/Meeting the Gang).

The whole gang had arrived at The Siphon Filter, save for the Ratling, Willow. The bar was busy, owing to the fact that most of the more vicious psychopaths had been consigned to the chem pools from which the settlement of Spitting Deeps derived it's name. Their absence served as a reminder to the remaining thugs and black-marketeers to keep their darker business practices on a more discrete basis. Extreme violence was only to be used in circumstances of genuine import and as a result; The Siphon Filter quickly became a place to spend money and do business. This benefited everyone, especially Wicked Sue, for whom business came before pleasure.

There was a scream from one of the serving girls, who dropped a tray of drinks before shouting recrimination at the members of the nearest table, a bunch of Goliath who had only dropped in recently, on route to another part of the dome. They were in the process of taking offense to the accusation, when they were surrounded by five dangerous looking, bald men in long, black coats. Unlike the visitors to the bar, these men all had their knives drawn and, in some cases, their blades had become intimately involved with certain ... sensitive areas of the Goliath anatomy. It was at this stage that Lex stepped forward.

"Gentlemen. We thank you for your business but it seems that you have become ... unwelcome here. I think it best that, considering your current... ahem ... situation, you might want to find a different establishment. Perhaps one in another part of the dome, as far away from here as possible."

"But we didn't ..." piped up the juve standing nearest to Kingpin. A mistake. The Deep's heavy nutted the juve above the eye, drawing blood. Kingpin, then launched the kid through the closed door after a running start. The two remaining Goliaths stood sullen and silent.

"Get out." said Lex.

They went to recover their juve before one of them shouted back ... "Ripjaws, you bastards! Remember the name!"

Lex curled his lip in disgust before going back to the bar, where he laid his axe out in front of him. He hadn't even remembered unslinging it. He turned to his left, where a small, furry creature, dressed in the parody of a man, with huge, bushy whiskers, sat.

"That was you, wasn't it?" muttered Lex. The creature just leered at him, from nipple height.

"Best get your gear gents. We're probably going to have to do something about this." He sipped his water-recyc.

_____ _____ _____ _____


@Konapowder and myself played out a gang fight. His Ripjaws v My Bald Deep. The fight was a non-map based encounter, filling in for the fact that neither of us had an opponent for the week. Konapowder is a new member of our group and I am starting the campaign with only 6 men + 1 Ratling. This is partly for the fluff of the gang and partly so that win or lose, I have a core of fighters who are going to get an exp bump The hope is also that whoever I fight, i'll have a lower GR ... so i'm fairly likely to pick the scenario, in which case - raid or something like that. It doesn't work out that way this time though and we play a gang fight.

So I play cautious. Konapowder has 9 people v 7 of mine. I try to kite him into a position that I want him in by moving back and to the left, but he advances steadily. There is some crap shooting from both of our heavies during the first 3 turns and no-one is hit. I had infiltrated my ratling, Willow, up the left side to eventually get a flanking shot, which he does but misses. Two or three of my gangers manage to get shots off in turn four. They're mostly hitting on sixes and almost all miss. Lex, my leader, manages to wing a juve with a flesh wound, which is frustrating.

The return fire for turn four was what did for me. I had ballsed up some line of sight on my leader, leaving him more exposed than his meat shield. He was hit with a frag grenade from Konapowder's leader w/launcher and sent flying from a building 6" up, where he landed badly and crushed his knee. -1M ... I'll be looking for some bionics in the near future. Also, an autogun round hit my ganger, Walter White. It needed a 6 and got it, going out of ammo in the process ... but not before sending Walter's brains out through the back of his head and onto a packing crate. Breaking Bad, cancelled.

The third casualty was Willow, the Ratling, who was shot in the back by fire from an autopistol. He went down, then rolled OOA in the post game. The loss of my leader to the frag grenade meant that I needed 7's or less on my bottle roll to stay in the fight. I rolled 8 and walked away to lick my wounds. Willow bled out before we could get to him ... and I like to think that maybe Konapowder's Ripjaws have mounted the poor bugger's carcass on a spike for getting them kicked out of The Siphon Filter, due to sexual harassment. I guess the moral of the story is - Don't be a horrid little perv.

I can't help but feel bad for Walter White ... Good shooting to be hit in hard cover though, so I fail to see what more I could have done for him. Lex though ... I could have done something about that. It was an error to allow LoS on him, over the meat-shield. This lost me the game. The pay off with exposing Willow was that he was meant to get a hit on a 3+ and failed. He was then shot in the back on the same roll. That's Necromunda. My heavy got off about 8 shots during he game ... all into hard cover but hit nothing. I had enough shots to potentially down 3 or 4 of the Goliath during the course of the game. The same tactics used in this fight have won me games before, though if it hadn't been for me losing the leader, I'd have had another turn of fire and the dice might have gone for me in that turn. That was my error.

It was a short game but a good one. Much thanks to Konapowder ... and I will have my revenge.

_____ _____ _____ _____

They buried Walter in the Slag Pits with his gear. It wasn't pragmatic but it was one of the only rites of death that they had. Each in their own way would mourn him, for they had known each other for a long time and had grown to respect each other's sneaky and underhand nature. After they were done, Ming the Merciless approached Lex Luther for a word. Ming and Walter had gotten on well. Luther was impressed by the stoic resolve and brutal pragmatism displayed by his oldest ganger (+1 Ld).

"Walter is gone. We need some new blood." Barely a flicker of sadness crossed Ming's face.

"I'll run it past The Council." Lex was leaning on a cane. His right knee aching beneath him.

He hobbled off to catch up with Marcelus Wallace and Don Logan. Marcelus was armed with a shotgun and Don with a Las, but both had taken to training against each other with their knives drawn. Nicks and cuts covered the back of their hands and forearms but Lex could not deny that their skill was improving (+1 Ws on both fighters).

"You two, listen. I'm heading down to Gats n Jammers today for a resupply. I'll be picking up a couple of swords if you think you can handle them." An inscrutable look passed between the faces of the two men, yet they both silently communicated something and had come to an agreement. They nodded at Lex.

Though the Bald Deep had lost the fight, both proprietors of Gats n Jammers and The Siphon Filter were highly satisfied with the performance of the gang, in general, in what was considered a moral victory ... and paid over the odds for the protection offered. Nobody was particularly fond of the chaotic and egotistical house Goliath, nor the ruin and destruction of infrastructure that it would inevitably bring.

[3 gangers left to perform income gathering.
Settlement of Spitting Deep - 30 ... no free juve.
Workshop - Gats n Jammers - d6 = 60
Drinking Hole - Siphon Filter - D6 = 60
Bonus Income from campaign move - 15

Net for 5 models = 60 credits
Stash = 320]

The Ripjaws, satisfied that they had won back their besmirched Goliath honour, went back to wherever it was that they called home at the moment. This left Lex and his remaining crew to open up avenues to the west, towards that other den of Goliath primates. The one led by Kain, unopposed. The Bald Deep expanded their operation into a mineral deposit site towards their prey and offered settlers from Spitting Deep the chance to go and work it, heavily taxed of course, yet at least the workers would know that Lex and his Bad Ass Baldies would stand in defense to protect their interests.

Still, overall it had been a bitter lesson ... and not one that Lex had needed to learn. Recon was a mugs game, to be left to those wihout a reputation. Lex prefered to use the skills that he had learned from his years of hiding in shadows, to get close to the enemy and then break them. Lex sat down at his terminal to write out his report and deliver his list of requests to the Council of Elders. Once he had finished, he sat back and hoped that they wouldn't demand his head for insubordination.

In his eyes, you only send a gang into a situation like this for fighting. The area was already over-saturated with other House Gangs. The Council had been too slow to send in a small team to take what was on offer, without opposition. Now every inch would have to be fought for and clawed after. He was the man for the job, but he needed men ... and he needed fodder. Losing another with the experience of Walter would make it difficult for him to accomplish. There were plenty of nameless joes looking to gain a reputation back home, as well as a few homegrown underhivers who could be convinced to shave their heads and leave their tedious miners existence...

'... Let them take the bullets for me.' Thought Lex as he rubbed the area around his busted and tender knee (-1M).
 
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BeardLegend

I can't grow a beard
Mar 28, 2014
1,613
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Southwark, London, SE17
Dude. That is how you write a fluff piece. Awesome. I love the way you tie it all into the actual goings on on the table and the post-game.
That's why i love necromunda though. This stuff writes itself, you just add in a little personality.

I just follow the sequence of events. It eventually resolves itself into context.

I really wanted willow to live though. So many opportunities for him to be a little bastard that will now never come to pass ...
 
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