Saturday, 5 October 2013

Brothers in (Four) Arms

Well it's been a busy week or so in terms of getting games played and my Genestealer Cult got another outing last weekend when Warlord Paul came round for a game. After rejigging the original Imperial Rescue mission idea I'd had for the scenario, we had a great afternoon's gaming using the Rogue Trader Rules.

Here's the scenario -

A raid on the main settlement of Pelegosto Prime has gone dreadfully wrong. A seemingly low tech and backward planet in the Outer Rim, Pelegosto seemed ripe for the picking to the orbiting Pirate ship. With its largely peasant population, rural economy and small PDF garrison surely it would be a push-over...

The initial reconnaissance party managed to make planet-fall without being detected. Their reports indicated that there was loot to be had as the harvest had just been auctioned off and a large influx of currency was doing the rounds among the large landowners. A large forbidding fortress had been identified as the seat of Government and so possibly the planet's Mint. Orders were duly issued to investigate it.

What happened next was unclear. Upon entering the castle the reconnaissance party's reports became increasingly strange, telling of strange religious iconography, cowled figures leading large congregations in strange rituals and a fearful presence that gnawed at the edges of their minds. The last transmission was garbled and panicky. It spoke of claws and hypnotic eyes in the Dark. It spoke of the Great Father's love for his children...

After the screams had stopped leaving only the clicks and pops of subspace static coming over the ship's communicator, Dola sat back in her Captain's chair, fists and teeth clenched.

Her Son-in-Law quailed a little inside. He didn't like what he had heard over the radio - especially as the leader of the missing team was his Brother-in-Law. He could guess what was coming next...

"Get down there and if you know what's good for you, don't come back without my son!"

With a sigh, he motioned his band to the transports. He had a bad feeling about this drop.

A larger Pirate force has been dispatched to the surface with one objective:
  • Locate and rescue the original Reconnaissance Team

I gave Warlord Paul the option of orbitally inserting reinforcements on any turn he felt the need. In turn I had a box full of nasties ready to spring on him as his Pirate Band patrolled their way through the settlement of Pelegosto. We both rolled up Psykers - mine a Genestealer Magus.Bro

We also agreed to set the action around dusk so that enemy forces had to make awareness tests to detect the presence of hostiles. Similarly we role-played characters' and squads' reactions to the various situations that presented themselves in order to avoid the old omnipotent controller dilemma.

Proctor Eyval, Magus to the Four Armed God-Child, Father to the Flock and Pre-eminence on the entire backward scum-hole of a planet he now found himself stuck upon, glowered at the ranks of expectant faces turned up towards him. Tell-tale bulges in a forehead here and the odd over-sized canine revealed by an up curled lip there gave away this sinister congregation's mixed parentage. 

As far as infestations went, this had been text book. The local peasants' superstitious ways had made the early phase of setting up a pseudo-religious cult easily accomplished. The weak fools had literally fallen over each other to prostrate themselves before their new God. The Planetary Garrison had succumbed soon after, as had Governor Nohm Bertoo and his corrupt menagerie.

And yet Eyval was dissatisfied. True enough he came from the same stock, although he was more Genestealer than Human and possessed the great intellect and power of will that came with his station. He had a sneaking suspicion that even the great Hive Mind, that vast seething mass of voracious hunger, even that would turn up whatever it used for a nose at this tawdry little morsel of a planet.

Then there was the small matter of the Patriarch. He was getting on a bit - there was no denying it. He also seemed as discouraged as Eyval did. It had been a good few hundred years since he had first broadcast the psychic beacon that would attract the Hive Fleets to this genetic backwater. The venerable old soul didn't get out much these days and the pair of them often spent long periods of time in mental communion, searching the aether for any sign of recognition from the Hive Mind.

And so it was that Proctor Eyval and his Patriarch settled down to commune with the stars. The brief excitement of a pirate incursion had been dealt with and the prisoners were under guard, awaiting implantation - at least they had had some fire in their bellies, Eyval had thought. All was quiet and the brood slept soundly in their underground lair...

Part 1

The long Pelegoston day slid sullenly into dusk and the peasant militia trudged in a similarly sullen manner in their allotted patrol circuits.

The militia had been strengthened  since the Pirate incursion. Although the Pirate scum had been captured and now languished in the fortress under guard.

Little did the militia know that more of their comrades had landed and were already en route for Pelegosto.

Singing crude songs and longing for the warmth of the fire and the bottle, the militia amble up towards the outskirts of the town.

Governor Nohm Bertoo pores over the orders left for him by Proctor Eyval - on no account must the prisoners be allowed to escape!

The First Mate's Pirate band continue skulking about the edge of town unaware of the approaching militia. The militia, however, have heard the jingle of their piratey earrings and move to investigate! The lead elements almost trip over the bandits as they charge through the gloom. The First Mate shouts the order to repel borders and they stand and fire. The Militia men make it through the fusillade but the combat devolves into an ineffectual scuffle.

Alerted by the distant gunfire, a slightly more formidable foe takes to the streets of Pelegosto. A squad of Brood Brothers peer over their transport, trying to ascertain what danger might threaten the Cult


  1. Don't keep me waiting too long for the next part :)

  2. I appear to have let you get the first word in for a change!

    1. Thought I'd get in there quick(?!) while you were busy!

  3. Love it...waiting in anticipation!

    1. Cheers Blue - just fitting the matchsticks to my eyes and brewing another pot of coffee and we'll see how far we get!