Inside the Iron Keep

Derval moved a coloured stone, his last Cadier, on the traveling sized game board.

"I've got you now!"

Nog tapped his snout thoughtfully. "Hmm.... perhaps." He picked up a stone, his Chancellor, and moved it three spaces. "Perhaps not."

Just then, the rhythmic swaying of the compartment stopped, jolting the rhyflers into each other and waking the sleepers with inarticulate questions. Derval's hands grabbed at the board and pieces.

Their Yawdryl, seated by the ramp, jumped up. "Prepare for instruction!" A pykpyk appeared at the end of the message tube and squeaked at them. The Yawdryl pulled the rodent to him, extracted a roll of paper from the tube on it's back and shoved it back in the tube with a nut. He unrolled the message flimsy and scanned it by the dim electric light. 

"Right. Pykpyk brains up top has dropped a signal flag and we need to sort it out." He hit the latch and the ramp dropped with a rattle of chains. "Derval! You're up!"

Derval buckled on his helmet and grabbed his harlech from the rack. As he approached the square of bright sunshine and fresh air the Yawdryl caught his eye. "About 100 meters back, starboard side. Advance isn't stopping so come up the side ladder."

Derval sighed.  "Yes Yawdryl."

"Good kit. Off you go!"

Derval was barely on the grass when the ramp started clattering up behind him. He set off following the deep gouges left by the heavy tracks, scanning left and right for a flash of colour. With a deep roar the vehicle behind him lurched away.

Derval trotted along, enjoying being outside, but archly aware of the need for haste. There it was! A yellow and red square of cloth about a half meter square on a short pole. He ran towards it, angrily waving off a Chyweethl that was about to run it over.

The scout tractor clattered past, the commander shaking his fist at him. Derval gave his back a rude gesture, picked up the flag and turned to see the massive bulk of the command vehicle pulling slowly away from him. He began to run.

Fortunately, the Iron Keep was slow and he steadily gained on it. Huffing and puffing he ran along the port side. A couple of the machine gunners leaned out of their firing ports. "Ayyy, go on Derval lad!" "C'mon kit! I've got five crowns on ye!"

Derval slung his harlech and tucked the flag into his belt as he pulled alongside the lumbering wall of iron. The rungs of the ladder were tantalizingly close. 

"C'mon kit!" somequar yelled. "JUMP!"

Derval jumped.

With boths hands outstretched he jumped. He jumped like it was school Games Day. He jumped like a pykpyk fleeing a predator. He jumped like he was running the obstacle course in Basic and being chased by a screaming Drill Yawdryl. 

He grabbed the lower rung and began hauling himself up, legs swinging, praying to the Ancestors that his grip wouldn't slip or his leg get grabbed by the moving tracks.

He managed to shove his boot into a toe hold cut into the side skirt. A cheer went up from the watching portholes. He smiled and waved as he caught a breath before climbing up the rungs running up the tall, armoured side to a hatch on the third deck.

The hatch swung open and hands grabbed him to pull him in. "Oooo look at you! All out of breath." Rupal the cook clucked over him like a mother pig. "Right! Off you go! Best to not keep His Snout waiting!" Rupal steered him through the tiny galley to another ladder with an open hatch and sky above.

Derval emerged onto the observation deck at the top of the vehicle. Ancestors! It was high up. Caernerol Prince Cwyfn-fouks, General Officer Commanding First Guards Tractor Division and Prince Royal, stood legs apart, swaying with the pitching of the deck as the vehicle lumbered along, resplendent in a deep blue coat and gold braid. He snapped to attention and saluted.

The Caernerol dropped his binoculars and turned. He spoke to the Signals Caerten, desperately clutching at the rail. "Has Paedwyn acknowledged the signal?"

"Yes m'Lord!"

"Good. Send the flare up...." He consulted a gold pocket watch. Derval held his salute, and the Signals Caerten waited, both swaying with the pitching, lurching deck. "Now!"

The Caerten lifted a double barreled, Crusader made, Grifkin and fired both barrels. One red and one green flare arcing away over the plain.

The Caernerol snapped his pocket watch closed and finally noticed Derval. He returned the salute. Derval relaxed. "Yes, youngster. What is it?"

The Royal Personage smiled with the calm beneficence of one who knows that he is the Most Important Quar for several day's journey around.

Derval pulled the signal flag from his belt. "I retrieved this, sir."

"Ah yes. Well done! You ran quite the race. I gather the radio room were laying three to one against. Give it to Smyks here." The Signals Caerten quickly snatched it away and stowed it in a compartment under one of the seats. "Do try to hang on to them, Smyks."

Silently, Smyks lifted his own binoculars and scanned the horizon.

Prince Cwyfn-fouks regarded Derval. "Ever been up top before, kit?"

"Uh... no sir."

He gestured Derval to come closer and then pointed to the south where brown and black clouds roiled on the horizon. "That's Clardwhg's 10th Rhyfle Division grabbing the Greens by the snout."

"Flare m'Lord!" Smyks pointed to the north.

"And that is Paedwyn's 5th Cavalry Division launching a flanking attack along side our tractor wedges, which will kick the Greens hard in the rump! Should split the line wide open!"

Derval was stunned and silent. He thought that silence was probably the smartest thing to do in the circumstances. 

The Caernerol looked at Smyks. "See that this fine quar is taken care of, would you?"

Smyks opened the message tube. One deck down voice would carry. But three decks into the troop hold, a squirrel was needed. Smyk spoke. "Rupal? The Prince's compliments and would you take care of Yawdryl Vegh and his rhyflers." He gave a sideways jerk of his snout at Derval indicating the hatch in the floor. The Prince had already turned back to survey the battle unfolding. Sensing that he was dismissed, Derval climbed back down. 

In the galley, Rupal was busy filling flasks of tea. These were slung around Derval's neck and a sack was shoved in his hands. "Here's some fresh fried worm sarnies, pet." Derval was steered to another ladder. "Off you go! Shoo! And mind your head, luv!"

He caught a machine gunner watching him with amusement as he carefully climbed down the ladder,  flasks catching at hatch edges, and past the radio room. A radio operator handed a piece of paper to a Staff Yawdryl who confered with an Is-Caerten. Together they updated markings on a map table. 

Clanking and clattering he climbed past ammunition storage, food lockers and a net holding some Mhudd-ball gear.

Finally he dropped down into the troop compartment in the belly of the great towering machine. Yawdryl Vegh glared. "Took your bloody time! Stop to play some Mhudd-ball?"

"Better'n 'at, Yawdryl!" He held up the paper sack triumphantly. "Stopped at Galley. Compliments of His Princelyness."

The rhyflers cheered as he handed around the sarnies and tea. He stowed his harlech and sank into his seat, suddenly aware of how tired and hungry he was.

Nog gestured with half a sandwich. "Want another game?"

Derval shook his head, chewing on his sandwich. He thought about boiling black clouds and flares. "I don't think we're going to have time, Nog mate. And I'm asleep in me boots. Of course, that's the only way you'll beat me, innit?"

*************

This started out as a 1/35th scale Tiger I that someone abandoned at the Hot Lead Bring and Buy many years ago. I'd put it back in every couple of years but never any takers.

I had vague ideas to turn it into a VSF landship with gun turrets, smoke stack, signal flags and sailors. But never got to it. 

Then along came the Quar. 

In Western Iron we're introduced to the Arnyaran Iron Houses. I figure a Croftyran senior commander encountering one on the battlefield would say "Yes, I like that. I'll take one for my headquarters."

Trying to do something suitably Quaresque intimidated me. My friend Dan offered to see if he could achieve something. He sent WIP photos and we exchanged emails and phone calls and he even drove over so we could consult. He was so excited for me to get it painted that he delivered it on a weeknight with the grey primer still tacky. 

The results are, as you can see, totally over the top, completely bonkers and rather mad.

I love it.