Sylwedl M'nwryng was agitated.
You could tell by the way he thrust his knife into the marmalade pot, as if he were attacking a Crusader, and the quick, violent strokes with which he spread it on his toast.
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Through the wire! |
"Damn it all, it just won't do!" He muttered, nibbling on his toast. "Won't do at all!"
"What won't do, sir?" Is-Caerten Bynti ventured. Being the junior member of the Mess, he didn't really know any better than to leave agitated Adjutants well and truly alone.
The two Caertens who were also breakfasting in the dugout, Fr'k and Bryk, exchanged knowing looks.
"Eh? What's that?" M'nwryng looked up from inspecting his tea, where some dirt had fallen. Knocked loose by the tremor of a distant shell burst.
Caerten Fr'k said "Young Bynti doesn't know."
"Know what? What's going on?" Bynti protested.
Caerten Byrk said "Oh yes, all tucked up in his nest last night."
"Dreaming of pretty nurses!" Interjected Fr'k.
The Adjutant decided that not too much dirt had fallen into his tea, and used his oatmeal spoon to skim the top of his mug.
"What is it?" Bynti squeaked. "I wasn't Duty Officer. What's happened?"
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Ready to bomb a dugout! |
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Corners are dangerous. "Shhhh... be vewy, vewy quiet." |
Bryk gave a knowing look and tapped the side of his snout. "We have guests."
Fr'k nodded sagely. "Yes. Interesting guests."
"The Sneaky Snouts" said Bryk.
"It's always interesting when they come for a visit" observed Fr'k.
"Damned inconvenient, is what it is!" The Adjutant growled. "Take over our dugouts, draw from our stores, take whatever they damn well please without the proper requisitions. It makes my Daily Returns to Division a nightmare!"
A figure appeared at the curtain. "A gift for the Mess." He put a jar of Easky Mountain Squidgeberry jam on the table with a couple of fresh loaves, and a tin of Western Arnyaran Black tea. "Since I will be your guest for a day or two."
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9 Commando |
Bynti looked wide-eyed at the jam, an unheard-of treat from an enemy country. He looked at the newcomer. He was lean, wiry, and clever looking. The high collar was missing from his rhyfler's tunic, and the folds of a black sweater neck replaced it. He wore a rhyfler's harness, heavy with ammunition pouches, and a big fighting knife hung at his hip instead of an officer's sword. He set a well cared for Doru submachine gun against the wall. "Don't worry. I haven't got any grenades on me.... yet."
He turned and offered his hand to the Adjutant. "Caerten Gyrnh'm-Yng, 9 Commando, 11th Special Operations Group." He shook hands with everyone around the table.
"Trench raiders!" Gasped Bynti.
Grynh'm-Yng took Byrk's empty mug and filled it from the tea urns. "D'ye mind old snout? Ta much." And began drinking before Byrk could protest. He looked at Bynti. "Don't believe everything you read in the magazines. Half of it isn't true, and the other half is Classified."
"So there's going to be a raid? When? Are we helping?"
Gyrnh'm-Yng chuckled. "Eager for some adventure, eh, kit? We're always looking for bright young quar who can think fast when their snout's up a termite mound."
He used his fighting knife to hack off a chunk of bread and smear jam on it. "Now, which way to your OP? My Yawdryl and I would like a look around before it gets dark."
He put a black knit cap on and stood up. Looking at the Adjutant. "We'll be drawing heavily from your grenade and mine stores tonight, sir." Slinging his Doru across his back, he left, munching on the bread.
M'nwryng snorted. "Damn nuisance! And why can't they polish their buttons? Eh?"
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Here is the elite unit for the Royalists, some Trench Raiders, loaded up with bravado, grenades, and Doru submachine guns to bring the fight into enemy trenches.
The troops are all 3d printed. Two different poses. The leader is a resin torso with plastic arms and head left over from the Coftyran set. The wire cutters slung across his back are metal from one of the Accessory packs I bought last year.
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The Leader |
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Wire cutters. Appropriate because he's leading from the front, and he's the only one with a full tactical harness on to attach it to. |
Most people follow the catalog and paint their masks as metal helmets, which seems to me to rather defeat the need for stealth. I went with Vallejo German Grey. I also added smears of dark grey camouflage paint, or more likely soot from a lamp, across their snouts and on their hands
Nine figures gives me three teams of three. I want to add two packs of the metal (I like those sculpts better than the new siocast) trench raiders with my next order. That will produce 3x five figure units of elites for Xenos Rampant and with some sniper and machine gun supports will be a decent force to play by itself.
In Xenos Rampant they will get either the Infiltration or Special Insertion rule to help them sneak up on Crusaders. I suppose I could also use them to play a game of Black Ops as well.