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Monday, 12 July 2010

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers...


For he today that sheds his blood with me, Shall be my brother; be ne'er so vile...

More of the bard but quite fitting I think!

A busy Sunday saw the last of the Linden Way militia finished and once I have secured a few more townsfolk for them to rescue I'll have most of the minis done for the Linden Way scenario... except for the Kwae Carr Orcs!

Here's the militia altogether, headed up by the Mayor Leofwine -






Making up this happy few are a disparate bunch of characters plucked from their everyday lives in Meledir to face the Orc invasion...

Luckily there is a small Norse community in Meledir formed from a small band of wanderers who settled there. Rekindling their inner berserkers thses formidable fighters are more than happy to join the fray.


Bruni Baegseg is one such Norse settler. Nothing annoys him more (apart from having his ale knocked over) than orcs threatening his, by Norse standards, peaceful life. Taking up his trusty axe Bruni is a valuable, if wild asset to the miitia - although try telling that to the poor soul stood next to him in the ranks once the red mist descends...



Some might say that a shield is a strange thing for such a warrior to carry - it is mainly there for him to chew on when he gets too angry!



Bruni's old drinking pal, Egil Ekbert, is never far away - mainly because Bruni owes him a flagon or two! There is considerable debate in the militia as to whether Egil's flamboyant hairstyle would strike more terror in the hearts of the enemy than the bloodcurdling oathes he enjoys shouting when a fight is brewing...




Making up the third of the wild bunch is Hroarr Sveinbjorn - said to be more closely related to bears than men, some say he got the name Hroarr because he says little else!





Pictured here with him is another traveller who blew in from the North in one of the worst blizzards the region had ever weathered. Most of the men are a little in awe of Lovtsevich the Kislevite trapper and with good reason. A man of few words and seemingly hewn from the icey wastes he appeared from, Lovtsevich has and needs no friends.






A more jovial addition to the band are the two woodcutters Grimwald Hollison (right) and Elias Brethilbole (left). This pair of merry men can be found of an evening at the best spot by the fire, well supllied with meat and beer and holding forth with many an entertaining tale. Elias in particular has a whole host of somewhat ribald yarns to tell of his amorous encounters with the sylvain and fey inhabitants of the woods... He didn't get the name Brethilbole for nothing - as he is wont to remind the lads! 






The last two miliatiamen represent two ends of the social spectrum among the peasantry of Meledir. Occupying a place relatively high up in the pecking order is Hrothgar Brindleson (right) - the local squire's head yeoman.




A valued asset to the squire's estate, Hrothgarr is well equipped in armour and arms in the hope that he will survive to return to his master's service. Gruff and short with those he considers below him, nonetheless Hrothgar is respected by the men and without him Captain Leofric would find his militia not quite the coherent fighting unit he needs... 





Next to him is Baledwynn Hogward, an illiterate and backward peasant whose ignorance and crude manners are worse than the pigs he is charged with keeping! Baldewynn is a superstitious man, constantly muttering abot bad omens everytime a crow darkens the sky - a fairly regular occurrence! Happy in the belief that his "magic" stick will protect him, Baldewynn marches towards his fate with the docility of a domesticated heifer.




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