M.O.O.S.(E). Ministry of Occult Studies (England): 12/10 Game shots

[Mason]

Lovely stuff Mason. Fantastic.  

I've been using objectives in all of my games lately.
They really add a lot of tactical decisions to a game.

Thanks, aggro!
The objectives certainly make the game.
If you played without them then a simple 'Fight' would soon become boring if you played that all the time.
Although it is good fun to just have a scrap now and then.....

2' x 2' table....?

Doug

Doug: Standard 3x2 Strange Aeons board.
I was pretty sceptical about using this size board at first, especially as you play down the length of it, but it works really well.




Retrieve the Artifacts- Continued


The Ministry team had drawn first blood, gunning down the Cultist who had ventured out too far on his own and now had their second crate of potential artifacts in their sights.

Meanwhile the Cult leader was busy ordering more of his minions forward to try and stave off the advance of the enemy. If he did not stop them in their tracks, he was in danger of losing all of the items he had stashed in the compound.





Another Cultist was sent forward to try and slow the team down a little whilst the 'big guns' were moved into position.



Unfortunately for the 'volunterr' this did not work for long, as he soon received the attentions of several team members aiming their guns in his general direction!




The Ministry team, who had been moving forward steadily, did have their advance slowed somewhat due to the Cultist's sacrifice, resulting in them being a little stretched.






The Lurker's next move proved much more decisive, though, with the charge of the Maniac being covered by a hail of fire from the Cult's lone Tommy-gunner.



This moved resulted in the Tommy-gunner unleashing a fusilade of lead, downing Aubrey himself, whilst the Maniac drove another team member to his knees.

This exchange of shots and blows continued for several turns with the Maniac eventually taking down the plucky Civilian and advancing on Aubrey himself!
Whilst this was going on the Tommy-gun-toting Cultist exchanged a huge amount of lead with the other members of the team, completely missing each other but making a terrible mess of the Cult Leader's pride and joy.
All that could be heard in the break between burst of gunfire were the screams of 'My Car!!! My Car!!!'




Several turns later, the Tommy gunner was eventually felled but the Maniac had taken out three members of the team, including Aubrey himself!

The Maniac was eventually silenced by shotgun fire, but by now the the Ministry team had lost half of their number.
The main problem that they had was the fact that they had lost their leader and his trusted Lieutenant, and hereafter would only be able to activate one member a turn.
Things were starting to look bad for the forces of His Majesty!

The Cult leader called up the second wave of his followers, two moving to collect the crate on their left whilst another went to the right to rescue the other.
Meanwhile the Cult Leader warily summoned his Suicide Cultist forward......




One of the Cultists began to drag the crate on the left towards the woods only to look up and see an Agent pointing a matching pair of .45's in his direction.
It was the last thing that he ever saw!

In the next turn, in traditional Suicide Cultist tradition, he managed to blow himself up!
Here he is just about to pull that 'loose thread' from his robe...




Isaac, the agent wielding the matched .45's took down the other cultist on the left with another impressive display of marksmanship before he was gunned down by the Cult Leader.

By this time there were only two antagonists remaining from each side.
Things were going to be tight!

As the Cult Leader stood over the recumbent body of Agent Isaac, pointing his .22 at the unfortunate man's head, his head exploded, the body toppling to the ground.
Never had the appearance of Agent Betty Swallocks been more timely!

That left the tint Cultist as the last man standing for the Cult, who duly failed his Resolve Test and went into a Frenzy and charged Agent Swallocks!

Miss Swallocks must have been in a frenzy too, though, as she proceeded to take him out of acion, stabbing him six times in the process.
Betty was not having a good day, methinks!

It had been an exceedingly close call, but the forces of His Majesty had won the day....

.....but at a cost!


The injuries sustained in the clash had taken their toll, leaving Phil McCaverty, the team's Civilian dead, having been hacked apart by the Maniac, his body literally torn apart.

Agent Isaac had taken a serious blow to the head and would now be suffering from Acrophobia.
(No more sleeping on the top bunk for him!)

The final casualty was Aubrey himself, who had suffered a Leg Wound and would now be leaning on his sword-stick in a real way.

A tough day 'at the office' for the Boys and Girls of the Ministry!

[einarolafson]

Thanks!! I have enjoyed reading it a lot.

[Legionnaire Bert]

Very good AAR Mason! Summed up the action a treat; a great game of SA I must say. Really thought my goose was cooked with so many casyualties; got away lightly with that one methinks . I shall have to refer to 'myself' as Aubrey 'Fiddy Cent' Werther-Minte now - 'been hit with a shiv now I walk with a limp' . Herewith an extract from the diary of the man himself:

From the journal of Aubrey Werther-Minte, Team Leader Thames Valley M.O.O.S(E).

“Fate has once again rolled the dice and I am greatly saddened by another death in the team. We received a good tip off that a number of arcane items were in the possession of a sect of the Cult of the Purple Headed Worm at (CLASSIFIED). We swiftly made our way there in order to intercept the cultists before they could escape with their crates full of proscribed materials, which I understand represent a grave moral threat. We made good progress, the team advanced under cover and had soon taken down a number of cult members with disciplined shooting. Then I heard it – that banshee wail I have come to hear in my sweat-shrouded dreams these last months! It could be none other than the maniac woman we had encountered some time back at (CLASSIFIED), which led to some appreciable injuries throughout the team. Against my will, Philip moved ahead of the group and before I could stop him he had flung himself in the path of the mad harridan who had wreaked such terrible havoc those weeks past. I could do nothing to aid him before the maniac had flung herself upon poor Philip – raining down blows borne with a terrible, insane strength, her awful cleaver rising and falling in the moonlight. Philip by his own admission has never been of martial character, but by God that man battled like a dervish! He fought off the maniac’s frenzied blows and landed a few himself, although alas he was able to bring nought but a pistol whipping to bear (I feel a terrible guilt now that I had not armed him with a sturdy knife, like the rest of us, but he was never meant to be placed in the peril of personal combat, unlike we agents).  Despite his spirited defence, I fear the she-devil’s manic strength and fervour were too much for him. I witnessed the blow which killed poor Philip – an overhead slash of that awful chopper which took his right ear clean off, stove in the side of his face and killed him outright.  A terrible sight indeed.

Trying to retain my gore, and marshalling my resolve, I strove to bring my trusty .45 to bear on her but she was too quick!  The crazed lunatic was soon upon me, vaulting the cooling corpse of poor, brave Philip in its spreading pool of vital fluids. Dear Lord, but she was strong! It was all I could do to fend her off long enough to pull out my trusty old regimental sabre. I became increasingly desperate to parry her crazed strikes. Close up I could see that it was definitely the harpy we had encountered at (CLASSIFIED) some time back; her wild unkempt mass of ginger locks framed a luminously pale face ravaged by insanity. What event could have forced reason to flee such a tortured creature as she? I barley had time to register this fleeting thought when my worst fear was realised - her flailing cleaver eluding my guard. I felt the terrible heavy edge of the blade crunch into my left leg above the knee. All was then searing agony as my legs gave way beneath me. I fancy I remember a terrible sensation of hot bodily fluids gushing down my mangled leg, my knee a well spring of searing, burning agony. For me events at (CLASSIFIED) drew to a close after that, as I passed out from shock and blood loss. I have been reliant on the survivors of my gallant team to fill in details for me, post-action.

It appears that as the mad women stood snarling over my recumbent form, my blood and that of poor Philip’s dripping from the silvery blade of her dread cleaver, Betty was able to get a clear shot. Her aim was true as she blasted the unfortunate creature into the next life with both barrels of her shotgun! Purdey & Sons never put one of their creations to better use, I am quite sure. I am told that with the loss of Philip and I (no one knew if either of us would live or die at this point) Isaac went into overdrive like a man possessed, and charged forth with his automatic pistols blazing like some hero from the Old West! There are times when I feel that I love that boy like my own son, for he is fiercely loyal to the team, and our cause. He accounted for more of the cult before he himself was brought low by the cultist leader, a vile individual who I have been unable to identify.

With Isaac reeling from numerous .22 calibre wounds, Betty once more dashed forwards and put paid to the cursed leader with a blast from the barrels of her shotgun. This, after she had already disposed of yet another cultist armed with a Thompson sub-machinegun. This dangerous fiend had already downed Henry in a hail of automatic fire which had bracketed the cult leader’s limousine! I am sure had the cultists prevailed on the day heated words may well have been exchanged between leader and lackey, to judge by the mess which was made of the car! Anyway, more bullets must have hit the venerable vehicle than hit Henry – he was fortunate enough that his temple was only grazed by a ricochet, which rendered him insensible for a time. Aside from a mild concussion, he has made a full recovery now.

Regina informs me that Betty performed miracles in my absence, and took charge of the team once both Henry and I were indisposed. I am so impressed with young Betty that I have made her a lieutenant – her ability to take charge of a tricky situation clearly shows a natural ability for leadership, and I am sure she will serve my team and her country ably the both.

I came round in one of our fine country hospitals,  where I was being tended by a skilled surgeon, the good Dr Avitt. I must confess that the injury dealt to me by that maniac woman has been the most grievous I have suffered in service to the Crown. The bulk of the cleaver entered my leg above the left knee, and only by a chance few fractions of an inch missed irreparably maiming the socket – merely dealing it a terrible gash which barely creased the bone itself. The blow also missed the major blood vessels, which would surely have been the end for me, being so far from immediate medical attention. I shudder to think of what might have come to pass; as it was I received a staggering 80 odd stitches and required 7 pints of blood during the procedure to treat my awfully gashed appendage. As it was, Dr Avitt’s surgical skills were such that he fought hard to save the leg and won – so severe was the injury he felt at one time that amputation above the knee may have been an option. I shall be eternally grateful to him for saving me the use of my leg. I am assured that my mobility will never be what it was, and I shall have to walk with a stick to support that leg for ever more. Doubtless cold and damp weather may not prove to be my friends, which is something of a drawback in my chosen line of work. Still, all of this seems an acceptable price to pay in order to retain my left leg. It would have meant the ruination of my favourite Worsted suit if nothing else!

I saw the Minister, Sir Tunley-Gaye, this week. He attended the funeral of poor Philip. He thanked the team for their service, and shared his commiserations at the loss of a friend and colleague. I shall certainly miss Philip’s ready Scotch wit and faux-dour utterances, as well as his parlour tricks! As well as providing the team with his thanks and support, the Minister had a surprise gift for me – a magnificent sword cane. The razor sharp blade seems every bit as deadly as my old regimental sabre, with the added bonus that it serves as a support for my gammy leg, when not in use as a weapon. I have yet to use it in the crucible of battle, but it is a handsome piece indeed and a generous gift from the Minister– it must have cost no few pennies. Perhaps I have the gratitude of the tax-paying public to thank for my wondrous gift!

The service for Philip’s funeral was very simple indeed. Never a greatly religious man, it had been his wish that should he perish in the line of duty (he was, among many things, a pragmatist) his cleric friend should perform the ceremony. Hailing from the Netherlands, I have to say that Father de Betta is something of a curious fellow. He seems well versed in the subject of mysticism, to judge by the extensive conversion I had with him the evening of Philip’s service. The pair of us spent a curiously enjoyable couple of hours at a very acceptable hostelry in the shire of Paisley, where  the service took place. It was a pleasant way to end a distinctly less than pleasurable day, it has to be said – me with my tender leg raised up, and he sat very happily in his clerical attire. For a man of the cloth, the good father has an extensive knowledge of wonderfully colourful and descriptive profanity and invective. And he displays an admirable knowledge and fondness for Scotch whisky! (I myself favour a good ale – strong spirits tend to leave me maudlin I am afraid; although I did raise a glass of 15 Year old Glen Campbell in Philip’s honour). The reverend father’s knowledge of such things is made all the more impressive in a visitor to these shores, I must say. He is an interesting fellow, and I look forward to making his acquaintance again before long; I have an inclination that he could be useful to the team.

Speaking of mysticism, one item the team were able to recover from among the spoils the cultists were keen to remove from the area of (CLASSIFIED) was a scroll written in a curious hand. During my lengthy convalescence I have studied it to see if I can make any sense of it. I am resolved to improve my linguistic skills, and shall use the time I am recovering to better my knowledge of languages. The scroll in particular craves my attention, and it is frustrating that I am as yet unable to unlock its mysteries. I am strangely reluctant to involve anyone else at the Ministry, but I concede that if I am unable to translate it soon I may very well have to do so.

As a final adendum to this affair, I have noticed for some time now that the cult members of The Purple Headed Worm refer to themselves by the name 'Bob', or derivatives thereof i.e. 'Smoking Bob', 'Tommy Bob', 'Little Bob' etc. This must be in order to safeguard their identities when abroad in the world. I must confess that I find so mundane a name disturbing when used to address such inherently evil men. Besides, I find it difficult thinking of my own Uncle Robert in quite the same way now...“

[aggro84]

Very nice Mason. I really enjoyed the miniatures the terrain and the write up. 

The photos came out very well. Much better than mine. 

[Mason]

Thanks!! I have enjoyed reading it a lot.

Thank you! I am glad that you did.

Very nice Mason. I really enjoyed the miniatures the terrain and the write up.  

The photos came out very well. Much better than mine.  

Thanks, aggro!
Not sure about the picture comment, though.....

Very good AAR Mason! Summed up the action a treat; a great game of SA I must say. Really thought my goose was cooked with so many casyualties; got away lightly with that one methinks . I shall have to refer to 'myself' as Aubrey 'Fiddy Cent' Werther-Minte now - 'been hit with a shiv now I walk with a limp' . Herewith an extract from the diary of the man himself:

Bloody hell, Bert!
That was some 'extract'!
Great stuff!



As for the funeral proceedings of the late lamented Phillip 'Phil' McCaverty, here is a snap shot of the Team paying their last respects, with the ceremony conducted by Phil's close friend Father de Betta.

[Doug ex-em4]

Brill photo Mason - very respectful interment for Phil (didn't he have a close Scottish friend - Ben Doon...?)

Doug

[styx]

Really? Did you have to bring guns to a graveyard? Oh wait, that is usually where the trouble is!

[Yetis Yell]

Godspeed Philip McCaverty.

[aggro84]

Nice photo Mason. 

Really? Did you have to bring guns to a graveyard? Oh wait, that is usually where the trouble is!

After what those agents have been through, Yes, they most definitely bring guns to a graveyard. 

[Mathyoo]

Looks like father was forced to conduct the ceremony! 

Thats a thread full of inspiration, great work!

[Blackwolf]

Always cracking work Mason,love how the whole thing comes together and your brushwork

[Mason]

Brill photo Mason - very respectful interment for Phil (didn't he have a close Scottish friend - Ben Doon...?)

Doug

Thanks, Doug!

I have a sneaky feeling that Ben Doon' may have to make an appearance somewhere...
 

Really? Did you have to bring guns to a graveyard? Oh wait, that is usually where the trouble is!

 
Thanks, styx!
Luckily for the team, it was a quiet day at the Graveyard.
The night may well have been a different story.

Godspeed Philip McCaverty.

And may he Rest in Peace.
 

Nice photo Mason.  

After what those agents have been through, Yes, they most definitely bring guns to a graveyard.  

Thanks, aggro!
I thoroughly agree with that sentiment!

Looks like father was forced to conduct the ceremony!  

Thats a thread full of inspiration, great work!

Thanks, Mathyoo!
He does look a little threatenened, doesnt he?
The positioning of Henry's rifle probably does not help...

Always cracking work Mason,love how the whole thing comes together and your brushwork

Thanks, Mr Wolf!
It is coming together pretty well.
Lots more to do yet, though.
 




The appearance of Father de Betta at the Graveside conducting the ceremony of his good friend Phil may well have prompted the good man to join the Ministry, as Bert took a liking to the fella so much that he has now given him a permanent home.
I am pretty confident that he will be joining the Thames Valley Division as a full-time recruit pretty soon.

I acquired him from Tym, who was selling a few figures on the Bazar a couple of weeks ago.
He had a comrade from the Church with him who will be joining the team at M.O.O.S.(E) Headquarters, providing spiritual guidance and extra firepower in the form of his father's trusty service rifle, although I have a feeling he may feel better equipped with a Tommy-gun!.






I think he should fit in just fine...

[einarolafson]

This last miniature is very impressive and agressive too !! I like it!!

[DeafNala]

Never trust a Clergyman with an automatic weapon...shows a certain lack of faith. Other than that, the Padre is a cool mini...nicely painted & based. VERY WELL DONE!

[Mason]

This last miniature is very impressive and agressive too !! I like it!!

Thanks, einarolafson!
He is quite an aggressive looking fella, isnt he?

Never trust a Clergyman with an automatic weapon...shows a certain lack of faith. Other than that, the Padre is a cool mini...nicely painted & based. VERY WELL DONE!

Thanks, DeafNala!
Maybe he will have more faith when he has a Thompson!




On to a miniature that I have had for a long time and not gotten around to painting....until now.
I originally planned to use it as an invention for a mad inventor in my Mordheim campaign, but he now becomes the bodyguard for a Mad Scientist.

He will also be used as the Butler for the leader of my British VSF force, Colonel Lambert, where he will carry a tray of refreshments on his upraised arm.





He is a big fella.
Here he is with the 'good' Doctor to give an indication of his stature.




I will be using it as Zombie on 'Low Power' and a Blasphemous Construct when he is switched to 'High'.

Hope you like him...