In which I blog about my miniature wargaming and whatever else takes my interest!

In which I blog about my miniature wargaming and whatever else takes my interest!

Friday, April 12, 2024

The Old Veteran

Master Yawdryl Maervik is taken out of the line.

"You've got a pretty ssssnout, dearie!" The drunken quar grinned lopsidedly at her, spilling some of his beer.

Clodha ignored the drunk patron and kept wiping the bar down when the door banged open. Old Maervik thumped in. He set a carefully washed tumbler on the bar with a nod to her and then turned, his cane and wooden leg tapping rhythmically as he crossed the bar room to his usual table near the fire.

Some younger quar, recently returned from the wars and proudly wearing their ribbons on their work suits were already at the table. One of them noticed the old quar and elbowed his friends to stand up, giving him the table. "Eldest." "Here Granddad," said one pulling out a chair. Maervik nodded and sat carefully. He pulled a pipe from a pocket and began carefully filling it. He was an unremarkable old quar. His brown tweed jacket was wearing at the elbows and cuffs. His grey cloth cap was weather faded. On his lapel was a shining brass pin with a piece of dark red ribbon. 

Clodha poured his usual and carried it over. "Evening granddad." She set his order, a pint of best and a tumbler of Old Snooty's 12 Year Old, in front of him, and a second pint and tumbler at the empty chair across from him.

The medical badge is a red blood drop on white

Maervik looked up at her. "Thanks love. Thank your ma for the worm and mushroom pie I found on my front stoop yesterday. It was as good as my Brygyd's."

Clodha laughed. "High praise indeed! Ma'll be glad you liked it." Maervik's late wife was renowned for her pies and ran a successful catering business for many years. "You should bring that jacket around and we'll mend it for you, then you can thank her yourself."  

"Ach! I wouldn't want to be a bother."

"No bother. Least we can do.  It helps ease her mind, with our Nobby away to the Wars and all." She fell silent thinking about her son, newly called up.

L-R: Milwer, Yawdryl and Officer

Clodha wiped some slopped beer and cricket crumbs off the table and then returned to the bar. The drunk was dozing off and in danger of drowning with his snout in his pint. She moved the glass to the side and watched as Maervik raised his pint and silently toasted the empty chair across from him before putting his snout into the foam and taking a long slurp. He sat like that, alternating slurps of beer and sips of whiskey and puffs on his pipe as he watched the fire.

Clodha didn't want to think about what he saw there. She ran the bar when the Veterans Guild held their monthly meeting. The Guild always met in the bar, booking it special for "a Private Function", because as one old soldier said, "after so much jabbering nonsense, the throat needs lubrication!" The "jabbering nonsense" being looking after widows and orphans and their destitute comrades.  But she heard snatches that made her snout curl as she gathered empty glasses and poured pints and sold bowls of salted crickets. Gate 18. The Fidwog Salient. Fort Vayk. Kryst. Toulmore. Wherever the ryhflers had marched and bled and died.

The other quar tried to get Maervik into a game of darts. But he declined. "Thanks, but no. Must be off. Grub boxes need mucking." He stood carefully and then thrust his cane at the quar with the most service ribbons. "Who'd you march with, kit?"

The younger quar stood proudly. "32nd Ryhfles."

"The Fighting 32nd! Ach, you beauties! Your mob fought through to relieve us at Brachyn's Pass when we were down to our last."

The other quar's eyes widened in surprise. "You were at Brachyn's Pass? My granddad was there and all."

"'Zat so, kit?" Maervik handed him the other pint. "Here lad, drink this to his memory. Saved my snout, he did."

Maervik then picked up the second tumbler of whiskey and nodded to Clodha as he limped out, cane tapping slightly less rhythmically on the floor.

Different packs!

I like all the kit sculpted on these quar. Pistols are a nice touch.

L-R: light automatic rifle gunner and yawdryl with sword and Doru SMG

She watched him as he carefully crossed the street to the Shrine to the Ancestors in the middle of the square. He gazed at it for a while, then straightening up, he saluted and poured the whiskey over the top, the liquid running down the worn and mossy grey stone. After another moment he stuffed the empty tumbler into his pocket and slowly walked off, leaning a little more heavily on his cane.

Section of ryhflers

Note different packs!

The quar who had received the second pint was at her elbow, also watching. "Who's that then?" he asked.

"You must be new to town, not to know Maervik. That's Maervik and Maervik is who he is. Soldier, kit and quar, for 50 years, serving King and Crusade. You can usually find him on a fine day in the park feeding the pykpyks."

The newcomer looked in wonder at his half-drunk pint. "The Maervik?! That Quar is legend. Our drill Yawdryls told us stories about him."

Clodha shrugged. "Most of us around here just call him uncle or granddad."

A bit of Quar fan-fiction to go with some recent additions to the Catrawds from my delayed Black Friday purchase.

First up is the Stretcher Team. This was a challenge to assemble. The stretcher bearer's hands are cast on the poles of the stretcher and then you've got to slot all four onto the arm ends.I had to do some creative bending and even then didn't get a good join on one of the four wrists.

Then some additons to the Crusader leadership. Yawdryl Pren, a rugged veteran. I liked his helmet with the goggles and camouflaged Bogen. Caerten Baeden Croux adds another officer to the Crusader army. As is my wilful way, I've given him a regular ryhfler helmet. And the thrid is a generic Milwer (Junior NCO) who I think came as a figure with the heavy shotgun team I haven't assembled yet.

Also the Coftyrans get some reinforcements with a second full section of metal ryhflers. This set has a different yawdryl and light automatic ryhfler sculpt and some different ryhflers as well. I also ordered the accessory packs, and just in time, because they disappeared off the Zombiesmith store right after Black Friday. These packs gave me some different pack options for the Royalists, which I used for the section. You'll notice there are 9 ryhflers, because Joshua added an extra in when he was fixing the missing parts of my order.

Next to come are a pair of Crusader light mortars and a second heavy shotgun team plus a Royalist second heavy machine gun team.

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