TribeMeet UK 2023 - Event details - 23rd & 24th September 2023

Which system are you playing at Tribemeet?

  • NCE

    Votes: 12 52.2%
  • Newmunda

    Votes: 6 26.1%
  • I’ll give both a go

    Votes: 5 21.7%

  • Total voters
    23
Who is ‘Buzz Lightbeer’? Do you mean CaptainClone 9s new air tight all terrain armoured spacesuit, with a little light bulb that blinks?
 
Darn it! Sniped on the Buzz Lite Beer front. I was going to ask if they were in conflict with Punktakii Sump Lager for market share or if they were solely focused on Trl Bru?
 
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TRL BRU is a beverage for the whole family to enjoy! a bit like shandy, in that you Could give it to your infant, but it still wouldn’t feel right

p.s. In Martian product testing on Holy Terra, it shows that the orange colouring, in some cases, sends children ‘hyper’ or into a state of ‘temporary trollness’
 
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TRL BRU is a beverage for the whole family to enjoy! a bit like shandy, in that you Could give it to your infant, but it still wouldn’t feel right

p.s. In Martian product testing on Holy Terra, it shows that the orange colouring, in some cases, sends children ‘hyper’ or into a state of ‘temporary trollness’
Meh mere sump water in comparison to Orange Yak! the one true beverage of the hive.


Welcome back from the warehouse wastes my Captain ❤️
 
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@Lyndon added, did you pay for camping? Myself and @Stoof need to do the great reckoning of the books, cash will be sat either in the tribe paypal or tribe bank account.
 
The one thing that really annoys me is that there isn't a decent werehorse model out there, or an otherwise good approximation to Thirty/Thirty, without having to do some serious converting.
This wasn’t what you were expecting… But it exists! Or will do, it’s currently on pre-order.

 
This wasn’t what you were expecting… But it exists! Or will do, it’s currently on pre-order.

30-30 After Dark
 
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[Citizens of Necromunda public broadcast]

Workers! Minions! Denizens of our glorious hive and loyal servants to the House of Helmawr, the time draws closer for Tribemeet! Only a few months remain, so make sure you have reserved your tickets, camping pitches if camping and got your wild west gangs onto the painting table! The time is now!

[End of Public Broadcast]
 
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[Citizens of Necromunda public broadcast]

Workers! Minions! Denizens of our glorious hive and loyal servants to the House of Helmawr, the time draws closer for Tribemeet! Only a few months remain, so make sure you have reserved your tickets, camping pitches if camping and got your wild west gangs onto the painting table! The time is now!

[End of Public Broadcast]
Reserve a space for myself, @Edelweiss and @Kixz.

Please :)
 
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** INCOMING TRANSMISSION **

His boots crunched on the grey ash gravel as he stepped from the rusted motorbike.

The acrid wind blowing down the only street in the settlement made an armour plated window shutter squeak back and forth on its poorly maintained hinges. There was no other sound over the wind.

He squinted through his goggles in the dull sunlight. Nobody in sight. Still... he unsheathed the double barrel shotgun from his back, and checked the chamber indicators. Both ready to go.

Crunching down the centre of the street, he peered cautiously about. Some kind of bipedal lizard snuffled at a trash mound in a side alley, stopping to look at him briefly before loping away. Turning away, he just caught movement of a shutter being closed and bolted.

To his right was the centre of the little town - the Saloon. Through chinks in the armoured shutters he could see lights on, but no jovial music or chatter he might expect of an evening.

He didn't enter - the doors were closed, heavy and would be bolted tight. They'd hear him inside anyway -

"Joey Weston, you grox-humping ingrate! I'm here for you, come on out!"

No reply, just the whistle of wind.

"Don't make me wait Joey! I know you're here! One-eyed Borman said you'd come here!"

Finally a muffled voice from inside - "Y'all got no auth-or-it-ee! There ain't no Palatine laws in the wastes!"

"You know I don't put no stock in Palatine laws, boy. I put my stock in what's right and wrong. I'm right. What you did to them settlers was wrong."

"They's was gonna die anyway!" came the voice, a hint of fear creeping in.

"As are you Joey, as are you. There's a chem-storm comin' and I ain't got no patience. I can't get in them armoured doors as you well know. But I can see the atmo-scrubber keepin' you are your buddies in there breathin'. Be mighty shame if you all suffered, since I'm only here for you."

He unholstered his heavy revolver, and aimed at the whirring unit bolted to the wall half way up the building's front wall.

Immediately a commotion began inside as Joey and his new friends began to work out amongst themselves where their loyalties lay.

"This gun's heavy Joey! Best get out here!" - he cocked the chunky hammer, the cylinder rotating onto the high explosive round ready to be unleashed.

More shouting from inside.

The front door slammed open, and a scrawny man in work clothes spilled out into the dust, followed by a cheap rubber gas mask which sailed through the air into the back of his head. The Saloon door immediately slammed closed again.

"Hello Joey" he said, and lowered the revolver. The resounding blam echoed amongst the small collection of buildings.

He didn't bother checking the body, he simply turned away and began trudging back to his bike. Then he stopped.

"Willingly aiding and hiding a fugitive. Usually a killin' offence." He looked over to the sickly yellow cloud rapidly approaching the town. "Ain't got time to work out which ones of y'all knew about Joey, so I'll let the Emperor sort it out."

He half-turned, and punched a manstopper round into the atmo-scrubber on the Saloon wall. All kinds of humanity began spilling from the building as the first green tendrils swept into the street - all desperately clamouring to get to a building with a functioning scrubber.

He pulled his heavy, good quality filter mask over his exposed mouth, noticing the effects of the filters as the sun dulled more with the green cloud sweeping between the buildings.

He saw at least two fall, clawing at their throats as the caustic gas enveloped them. With that The Lawman turned and trudged through the chemical fog back to his bike. Justice be done.

**END OF TRANSMISSION**