Ruby Annie, Cultists, Evil Prof Winklehelm...and a lot of porkers.

[Silbuster]

And now a tale from our archives of terrible crimes of long ago. At least last Wednesday….

Everybody has to start somewhere and so it was with Diamond Annie. She didn’t run to a girl’s best friend then, so had to make do with rubies. Ruby Annie and her chief sidekick, Baby Face aka Murderous Mollie were always on the lookout for easy pickings and a good stabbing and so it was they were up near Watford junction on that fateful day….

Correct, you charmless nark. Almost into the country we were. Blimey, the place stank something rotten. If that’s a farmyard, you can stick it up your fundament. As I looked with horror at the back of beyond, I checked the story we’d been given.
 “Now let’s get this straight. We’re looking for a pig, right? Not bacon, pork or gammon but something still on four legs?”
“‘Fraid so, Annie. But it’s a particular pig an’ all. A Pepper Pig.”
“Really? I thought they came ready salted?”
“Seems not. They’re a weird load of baskets at the ministry of porkie pies but there ain’t no mistake. Its name is Pepper and it has to come back walking.”

You couldn’t make it up, could you? (Editor: The insane idiot who invented this scenario did!)

We sauntered casually towards the open green bit. Apparently, they’re called fields. As we sashayed onto the last main road before the end of civilisation, I glanced to my right. Stone the crows! There, in flesh and steel, was evil Professor Winklehelm and his iron men. At his sides were the infamous Captain Sandy Crack and Arfur Maton, who’s only semi-metallic. They took one look at us and scarpered. Blimey! We must be scary! Or were we? A quick shuftie to the rear found a gang of Akhenaton’s thugs galloping towards us. ’Struth! I formed a welcoming committee while sending a handful of girls on a rush for rashers of bacon.

In charge of the foaming-at-the-mouth brigade was a Nubian captain cunningly disguised as Professor Aziz (not that I’m being sarky about unrepresentative figures here…). He lead their charge together with a hired assassin. Bravely the homicidal Hill sisters drew sabres and sliced. Sadly the opposition sliced better leaving Baby Face and Miss Blue Pants in need of transfusions. Pity they don’t exist yet… Just to make up for it, we shot a couple of robed cultists. Well, it’s what they expect. I expect they enjoy it really.

Meanwhile, our scouts couldn’t help noticing that the streets really were paved with gold around here in the shape of scattered goodies. Naturally, being generous souls (would I employ any other sort?), they gathered a few up for sharing later. They even popped their heads into a couple of houses but resisted the temptation of shooting inhabitants ignorant of the location of Pepper Pig. Winklehelm’s “people”, and I use the term in its most generous sense, got hold of a cart and started loading it with prezzies. Looks like a good idea. We spotted another one. So did the cultists…And they got there first. Honestly, you just can’t shoot the little baskets fast enough. It seems that two pop up for each one you whack!

They got a bit ambitious though. In fact, the cultists were everywhere. Spread way too thinly! Sairah lead a charge against the men of metal but only she came back and was then shot down by Gerty. The Nubian git was doing alright, chopping down Dollie Hill after she’d rearranged the assassin’s internals, but then he came and took me on. He received a ladylike boot in the jewels followed by a mouthful of rubies and lost interest in life entirely. As Miss “Pin your ears back” unwrapped the mummy, the few surviving raving ones ran for the board edge carrying whatever loot they could carry. Miss White and Miss Orange had lost the colour from the cheeks in the general melee but overall it was a stonking kicking. Now what about that blasted boar? For that, I have to hand you over to our chief pig pursuer, Blondie.

Ay up! Blondie here. Those creepy Winklehelm characters were busy sucking up the loot while taking pot shots at us with their arc rifles. Gerty held them off while we went looking for that pesky porker. When we finally got to the weird green stuff, what we found was loads of them. Pigs, that is. But none with a sign saying “Pepper”. Now what? What we needed was advice. Off in the distance was a gypsy caravan. Perhaps she could read my fortune? Or tell me where the fortune was stashed. As I got near I could see that she was really friendly so I took out my blade and waved that in time with a wad of cash.  It worked a treat but it wasn’t good news. Basically we had to grab a pig, twist its tail and recite this magic spell. Hell’s teeth, you wouldn’t believe the embarrassing garbage you were required to utter. Somebody going to pay for this (Editor:You know who you are!).

I grabbed hold of a bag of future bacon and twisted. It told me its name was Poo-Poo. I already knew that since I was wiping it off my heels. But I couldn’t also help noticing that my legs were stretching until they were suddenly at least three inches longer. It struck me that there might be something a bit odd about these porcines. I ran off to check out the next one and found that I was flying along like a greyhound. I would have said gazelle there, if I were posh, but I ain’t exactly certain what a gazelle is. And a girl has to be very careful what she says in polite company. Speaking of being careful, behind me Alice twisted the tail of another one which said its name was Po-Po and exploded. Luckily, Alice was hiding behind a convenient white rabbit at the time and escaped unharmed. Pausing to advise her that she was only supposed to blow the bloody ears off, I cautiously twisted the next one. It was called Pee-Pee. We’re seeing a pattern here, aren’t we? And it’s not a pretty picture. I looked at Pee-Pee. Pee-Pee looked at me and then shot off like a rocket and exploded at the other end of the board almost taking out Winklehelm’s cart.

Fortunately for me and Alice, the iron idiots had grabbed the remaining porkers thereby saving us from that well known fate worse than death called… death. Even as we watched, the nearest fat pink object on four legs turned into a six foot roman candle for the benefit of the automaton pulling its leg… tail. However, it was all too evident that they’d got hold of the real Pepper as we watched it flying off the board with a robot on its back. Yes, that’s right. You read it here. A flying pig. (Editor: Who came up with this insane gibberish… as if we don’t know.)

Ruby Annie,
It wasn’t me,
I wasn’t there,
You’ll never “pin” it on me, copper.

[Craig]

Nurse! I need my tonic, and don't leave out the gin this time!

Another excellent report - keep it up old chap 

[shadowking1957]

Bloody marvellous...................

[Craig]

And you made the front page of the IHMN blog... again 

[Silbuster]

This game is the first in a three part campaign with the troops available in the next dependent on casualties and profit from the previous. I shall try to obtain some of the hideous details from 
the warped mind of the Right Dishonourable Breen, scribe to Akhenaton, friend to Smirking Poirot and all round nutter.
Right then Nurse, do you have the laudanum and chains to hand? Then release the bolts...

[Silbuster]

This is the background to the Pepper pig saga according to the nutter who came up with the scenario:

According to myth there is a story of a pig of power, the one pig to save all; Pepper pig. This pig is very magical and has great powers. If sacrificed in the Tower of Bacon she has the power to usher in an age of plenty and righteousness.

In order to identify the pig of power you need to invoke the magic pig incarnation:
(Editor: yes, he did write “incarnation”.)

"Magic pig, Magic pig
Giggity gig, Giggity gig
Pig of power, now is the hour
to show me your power."

You then point the pig and pull the tail.

(Editor: This sadist insisted on the players repeating the INCANTATION. This nearly led to the club’s first public lynching.)

Nobody knows what the invocation is at the start of the game (Editor: very fortunate otherwise we’d have stuffed a pig with him.) In order to find the invocation the companies could go to see Gypsy Rosie Lee Tong (Editor: a Chinese gypsy… I rest my case.) and look into her crystal ball or look in the library for the 'Fathershaw book on Pig lore and pig wifery', which gives details on Pig lore and pig magic. (Editor: also the address of the closest asylum).

When using the magical pig invocation on ordinary pigs, there is a chance that something good or bad could happen to the fool holding the pig! (the Good Pig/Bad Pig roll to determine the effect!)

Oh...... finally the names of the pigs that you all were chasing:

Pee pee
Poo poo
po po
pee
plop
pepper
Plip
Plonk
Peter
Pancho

(Editor: This gentleman was quietly led away, wearing an extremely tight jacket, a day after the game.)

Apparently, this was the first in a three part campaign. The second instalment involves
a slow boat up the Nile. (Editor: he’ll need to be careful the slow boat goes up the Nile rather than elsewhere).