Tale of the Wandering Slayer chapter 1.

Many days and nights he had wandered the dunes, seeking some traces of civilization. His water was running low and thirst soon accompanied the murderous rays of the desert sun.

Towards the end of yet another day of the endless dunes and rocks, the Slayer thought he saw some green in the endless sea of sand. He tempered his joy, for this was not the first time he'd been fooled by the mirages. 

Dressed in garb and a steel armor of a make seldom found among the locals, it's clear to anyone that the Slayer is from the west. His fair skin and overly thick garments also betray that this is not a man nativ to these lands.
The tools of his trade makes it clear that his is a violent path and he had the scars to prove it.  

Wiping the sweat from his brow and stepping up onto the rocks, the wanderer squints towards the greenery around the oasis. 

When the palms and glittering pool doesn't fade like others before had, he lets out a sigh of relief. The oasis looks to be real!

Almost falling into the pool, the cool water is a balm to the stricken wanderer. His thirst slaked and waterskin refilled, food is where his thoughts turn to next. Luckily the palms seem to have some dates left, a welcome addition to the bland but nutritious rations common among travelers. 

With a full belly our Slayer lays out his bedroll and tend to the small fire. The second bedroll is a spare, someplace for his gear while he rests and as a decoy, have saved him more than once when bandits have had less than honorable intentions. The Slayer turn in for the night, unwilling to brave the cold desert winds after several hard days march.

Early the next morning, in the pre-dawn gloom.

 An inhuman chittering and scratching amongst the rocks around his camp awakes the wanderer. With practiced ease he jumps to his feet, slipping into his armor before grabbing his weapons and shield.

Mere seconds have passed since he awoke, but already some of the giant creatures come skittering into view.
Scorpions! But not just any regular beasts, no! For reasons unknown to men, these arachnids have grown to be several feet long and deadlier than their smaller counterparts.

The Slayer is sure he can hear more than the two monstrous creatures in front of him, but taking action is his blood. With bounding leaps he closes the distance, swinging his spear to cleave one of the monsters with a murderous stroke and spins a full revolution, so great was the force of his swing.

The remaining scorpion hisses as it readied it's stinger and raises the massive claws. Our wanderer's spear flashes again however, pinning the giant insect against the rock before it can strike.

Soon another pair of arachnids come rushing into view while a second pair came rushing from behind the rock where he made camp.

Again he rushes to meet them, but the damnable beasts are not as simple as they appear! The thick carapace helps deflect what would have been a killing blow as the beast skitters to the side at just the right moment.
Overextended, the Slayer couldn't block the stinger from the other scorpion. Screaming out in pain, blood flows freely from the piercing wound.

Leaping back onto a rock to escape further stings, the wanderer felt the noose tightening as the giant beasts close in on him. 

Running along the rock, our Slayer jumps to land behind a fiend separated from the pack. Surprising it, he manages to skewer the beast before it can turn to face him.

Relentlessly pursuing their next meal, the scorpions soon have our hero surrounded again. Blocking and slashing left and right, the Slayer keeps the arachnids at bay for a while. But finally a scorpion clamping on the shield with a claw and locking it down, the wanderer is unable to keep the fiends from stabbing and cutting him with their stingers and razor-sharp claws. 

"Argh!" With a scream of rage and pain, our hero slash and pierce one of the offending beast, sending it's vile green blood flying in all directions.

Feeling the wounds taking their toll, the Slayer swing his spear in a wide arc to force the remaining fiends back. With some breathing space, he backs off with the shield raised and spear at the ready.

The fight having taken it's toll, the wanderer decides to take a chance. To improve his odds, he changes his grip and throws his spear with a grunt at one of the wounded beasts. The heavy spear isn't balanced for throwing but fortune smiles on him as it sinks deep into the sand, pinning the monstrous insect.

A single foe remain. He draws his blade and await it. With a vicious downward stroke the Slayer shows why he is so aptly called. The bisected parts of the creature falls at his feet, dead before it hits the ground!

The final combat roll. Slayer's are the red dice. 

Bruised and bloodied, the Slayer tends to his wounds. Bathing in the clear water of the oasis, he feels refreshed, if still a bit tender. Before collecting his things he has a quick meal, taking the opportunity to roast some of the arachnids. One should never pass up fresh meat, after all. 

As he sets out to continue his journey, someone is watching him from afar. 

Who is the mysterious stranger? Is he somehow involved with the attack on our wandering Slayer?

And just what is the Slayer seeking in the central deserts?

Til next time!

Foul bandits and terrible beasts

Before I could start the Tale of the Wandering Slayer, I needed a few more pieces.

Since my AA order arrived I have been painting and fixing, getting ready to play the first part of the story.

First we have some giant scorpions. How these oversized arachnids grew to such size is not known, but they plague many parts of the deserts. Deceptively stealthy for their size, many a traveller have met their end by the claws or stinger of the beasts.

With a bandit standing in for scale, you get a real sense of who unpleasant it would be to face such a creature.

Wherever wealth and opportunity arises, conflict is inevitable. Bandits are a ever-present threat along the rich trade routes and long unguarded streches of roads thoughout the central deserts. 

These bandits are no different. Thieves, desertes and other outlaws, they band together in loose groups to take whatever coin and goods they can until they are caught or fall to infighting.

Leading the band is usually the most ruthless and deadly among the group. Fear and brutality is the tools that keeps his fellows in check and as long as they coin and drink keep flowing he stays on top. If fortune was ever to desert him, it won't take the rest of the band long to replace him.

Under the boss is usually a right-hand man. These rogues are usually loyal to the boss personally, more often then not being friends or former subordinates from whatever life they sought to escape. His stern hand enforces the bosses rule.

 The rest of the band is comprised of all manner of rogues, cutpurses and outlaws. Poorly armed and often without any armor, the danger comes not from might or strenght in arms but their desperate ferocity like that of a starving wolf. The description is apt, as many of the outlaws are underfed and mangy unless they happen to belong to a successful band.

The scorpions and bandits will allow me to play out the first few tales I had in mind and I will add more beasts and men as the story progresses.

Til next time!

Vacation time, let's grab our broadsword.

My vacation has started and as such I naturally have a new project; 15mm Fantasy!

Mike's Croms anvil and the adventures of Erland got me in the end. I felt I needed to do something that wasn't 6mm sci-fi for a while and 15mm sword and sorcery is about as different as I could get drawn into!


Surrounded on all sides by civilizations old and new, the sand-swept deserts at the center of the continent is home to many secrets left by the ancestors that came before. All trade between the realms of the east, west, the north and the south passes through the kingdoms, duchies and myriad other states that inhabit the more bearable parts of the scorched lands.
But it's not only merchants and traders drawn to these lands, no, not at all.

Among the ancient ruins and forgotten places of those who came before hardy adventurers come to seek their fortune and scholars and mystics seek forbidden and forgotten knowledge. Mercenaries and bravos also flock to the kingdoms of the desert, where conflict is common and profitable.

It's a dangerous land who will easily devour the unprepared or unwary, more than a merciless bandits and maddening heat await in the deep desert. Around campfires and in taverns traders and travelers whisper of unnatural fiends and terrible ghasts stalking the dunes and the ruins. Lately, even smaller villages and camps have been struck by calamity of the like only told in tales of old legend.

The subjects of tales yet to be told.

Common in the kingdoms of the west, Slayers are hunters that chase prey most men would rather flee from. In the west, sorcery is looked upon with slightly less fear and suspicion than most other places and a fair bit of interest as well. Because of this the prominence of magical beasts and all the trouble that can follow is more common than anywhere else exept the southern jungles.

Because of this unique talent the Slayers travel far and wide, hunting almost any prey. This too, is true of our wanderer. But what has he come seeking in the deserts and ruins of the ancients?

A sorcerer of the east, no doubt seeking knowledge stolen by the sands and by time.

Will he be friend or foe of our wanderer?

Being a merchant in the central desert is likely to make you a rich man, if you have the head and heart for it. It is also fraught with danger. Unscrupulous and greedy business partners can be as much of a danger as bandits or beasts. That's why most have bodyguards after all.

Not all live by trade or highway robbery in the desert or course. Many a nomad clan or tribes of peoples live like their ancestors, subsisting off the land. It's a hard life, so it makes the tribal men and women equally hard. The chief leads the tribe and it also the first among warriors. The medicine man entreats the gods on behalf of his people, heal the sick and injured as well as providing counsel to the chief. 

Not all creatures in the deserts are human or beast, some fall in-between. The lizardmen are one of those tribes living off the land, the origin a mystery. Many a scholar have but forth different theories over the centuries, but nobody knows for certain.
The creatures are clearly intelligent, using tools and planning just like humans, leading some learned men to speculate that the could be the result of an magical experiment by their advanced ancestors. Others claim that they have evolved naturally.
Being violent and territorial, in addition to seeming be unable to comprehend human language, it seems unlikely that the great universities and colleges will solve this mystery any time soon.
  

The great deserts is not all sand, great boulders and even small mountains spring up in some parts of the central expanse it covers.

Along certain rivers and oases both camps and sometimes even towns grow, provided there is anything besides the water to live off of in the area. It's not uncommon to find small quarry or mining towns where the ranges intersect with a body of water.

Palm trees grow wherever there is enough water to sustain them. Date palms are a common enough sight around oases and have saved more than a few thirsting and starving travelers.

This small town, with it's indigo-bordered walls and temple is one of the first signs of civilization when you come out of the deep deserts travelling the old roads running from the western kingdoms to the eastern ones.  

We will learn more of this settlement, including it's name when our wanderer finally arrives.

That's all I have to share with you for now, I should have the first part of the story in a few more days if all goes well.

Til next time!

The Komodos

Somewhere in the Midas system, a few unassuming cargo-haulers float in orbit of a large asteroid. There is little that stands out about these vessels, exept for their markings: A great lizard from Terra's ancient past, the Komodo dragon.

In one of the many converted bays abord the ships, a small force is getting ready.

Engineers rush about, checking fuel and ammo loads, air pressure and a host of other things as well. The trio of fast attack vehicles roll up the ramp of an assault shuttle when they get the green light, their multi-purpose autocannons tracking this way and that as final weapon checks are being finalized.  

Stepping off their cradles and testing out the linkage, the operators of the Mk. 17 Power Armor is a rare sight on the fringe, unless something has gone very wrong. These high-tech marvels turn a soldier into a bounding mini-tank, able to take on almost anything on the fringe. Usually they would only be part of a Unity intervention force, but recent changes has opened up the legitimate market for private companies like Komodo.

Two of the five teams of Mk 17s also carry heavier weapons to deal with hardened targets and groups of entrenched enemy infantry. Or just about any thing or one that gets in their way.

In the ops center of the main hauler-turned-carrier, a comms operator suddenly calls out: "Commander, we have an incoming transmission."
"What's the code, comms?" the Commander asks instantly.
"Vermillion Alpha, sir!"
"Finally! Transfer the incoming to my screen, if you would."
"Yes sir!"

Looking over at his screen, the commander smiles as he reads the short message:
"K,
Previously discussed arrangement is in order. Please send comfirmation on the usual channel.
Your friend C."

The Commander stood up and transmitted on company-wide band:
"Dragons, this is Commander Keller. The time we have all been waiting for is here. Let's get ready to do what we came here for."

I'm hoping to show off what happens when the Komodos land in a few days.

Til next time!