Mad Lemmey's Painting Blog

Wednesday night, as the local G-class star set slowly below the horizon, Neil and I met at the newly reopened Leighton Buzzard Wargames Club to play Mortiem et Gloriam with our Biblical armies. I was using my Saitic Egyptian, an all arms/heavy infantry list vs Neil who had brought along the 'Indusrty Standard' (ie lethal) Mitanni (36 skilled chariots, 6 skilled foot archers, some bow and spears, some spear with bows, same as Cid and I both ran at Warfare 2019 , you know, back before the plague). My list: Strategic intercept on the terrain chart really helped, as I could choose from Standard or Coastal, or I could stick with my Standard or Coastal... oh. Scouting, these were the cards Neil used after he equalled my 20%! So 7 units went down as 50% of 13. Glory shot of my ruins acting as rocky ground, coz it looks cool! And my ever growing town lurks behind, the battle would be fought on the plains between. Mitanni forces start to deploy. As the sun glints off the needles outsi...

Sir Dereck reclined against the gallows, munching a stem of grass, looking out over his gang's camp. Smalls polished his shinty stick, muttering to himself under his breath, "That bite mark is never coming out, blooming dog!" Sir Dereck looked at his blood soaked axe on the grass beside him, and smiled. Today had been a good day, in many unexpected ways, however, Matilda the Ferret had taken a bad hit, and she was only just coming round. She clutched her arm, and groaned, looking up from her pillow in her tent, she caught Sir Dereck's eye and muttrered in pain "What happened?" Sir Dereck got up, poured a flaggon of wine, and wandered over, handing over the wine, a decent red, and propping the injured warrior up wih his own pillow and blanket behind her back. "Well, how much do you remember?" "I was guarding that mole, Sir Bore-a-Lot, boy did he ever live up to thant name, he could go on about structural engineering for hours, after that, noth...