Sunday, September 8, 2024

Quar Partisans

Ryta checked her hat in the mirror and tied the ribbon carefully under her chin. "Oh c'mon you!" Jyn't shouted from the door. "We're going to be late meeting Aelf and Byrt!"

"Hush you." Ryta looked around her small house. "Now where's my purse?"

Jyn't pointed at the table. "There it is! What d'you want that for?"

"No that one!" Ryta rummaged in a closet. "Ach! Here it is!" She brandished a large shoulder bag. "I like this one. It can hold more magazines."

They regarded each other, in their best coats and nice scarves. Two respectable farm wives. Ryta pulled a submachine gun she had purchased from a Western Arnyaran trader last year out of the umbrella stand. "Right lassie. Let's be off."

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

The truck bumped and creaked down the country road. Nog was at the wheel and Milwer Ogan sat beside him, feeling pleased even as they bounced around inside the cab. The Quarter-Master had sent them out to forage for supplies among the farms along the valley, and they'd found barns stuffed full of produce and termite boxes and worm bins just brimming. There were even a few stills with cases of homebrew that were gladly loaded onto the truck. They'd left receipts and military scrip to pay for it. They weren't marauders. It was all very legal.

The truck rounded a sharp corner and Nog stood on the brakes to keep them from crashing into a farm wagon. Muffled curses came from the back of the truck as the other two rhyflers were thrown into barrels and boxes. A wagon had lost a wheel and two dynas* were squabbling about it as one unhitched the cadier that had been pulling it.

Ogan banged on the back of the cab and shouted "Oi! You two! Get out here and help!" he turned to Nog with a sigh. "C'mon. Let's help the dearies and get the road cleared."


"Nice parking Ryta!" one in a pink coat scowled. "Oh hush you Jyn't!" the other retorted.


Milwer Ogan was all smiles. "Right then ladies! What seems to be the problem?"

The one with the large feather in her hat looked at them incredulously. "I'd think that was obvious sonny. Or are they taking blind rhyflers these days?"


Ogan turned to the other two rhyflers who had come from the back of the truck. "Right lads! Let's get this wheel back on and help these nice ladies on their way."


After some heaving and grunting, the four of them got the wheel back on. After a bit more effort a retaining pin was fashioned from a chisel in the truck's tool box.


Ogan stood back. "There you go ladies, now we can get your cadier hitched back up and you can be on your way! Going to market were you?"


"Summat like that sonny, but perhaps before you go, you can unload your truck into the back of the wagon here." Ogan looked up and found himself staring into the barrel of a large automatic rhyfle. The one with the feather in her hat had produced a submachine gun and was covering the other three.

 
Nog made a sudden step forward. The pink coat stepped back. "Eh now! Don't be clever sonny!" She gestured behind them. They heard the clicking of bolts and risked a glance over their shoulders.


A couple of Quar in workers overalls had come up behind them. One carried a Bogen and the other a submachine gun.



Another Quar stood up from the bushes where he had been well hidden. He was wearing a cloak made of leaves, common with country folk and good at keeping the rain off. They were also popular with poachers. This one levelled a long barreled Harlech at Ogan's head.


"As I said" said pink coat. "We'll be taking the harvest you've stolen."


"Stolen? This is all legitimate appropriation for the war effort!" Ogan explained. "We've paid for everything in military scrip and given receipts."


"War effort?" The country folk all laughed. "Crown or Crusade, we dinnae care."

Nog shouted "How can you not care?"

Pink coat nodded at the feathered hat. "Ryta's got a son off in the Crymuster and a nephew has run off to join the Crusade."

She nodded to the poacher. "Byrt shouldered that Harlech for the Crown when he was a lad." She gestured behind them "And Aelf there had a medal pinned on him by Alkynder himself."


Feathered hat, Ryta added. "And Jyn't's Pol never come back from the the Wars, did he love?" 

Pink coat, Jyn't, looked downcast. "No never he did. Not sure I care which side he was on. It's no matter to us. Big snouts in fancy 'owses make up ideas and get arguin' and then it's lads like my Pol get killed over it."


Ogan replied "Yes, yes, all very sad. But our requisitions are all legitimate and we've paid for everything in military scrip and given receipts!"


"Oh aye. And how's Granny Ogg up the valley with all her wee kits supposed to eat this chythwyn on your military scrip! A fine soup that'll make!"

Aelf, the one with the Bogen, said from behind them. "Supposed to be a bad 'un this year! You can tell if'n you watch the pykpyks and moths."  


Byrt, with his Harlech pointed at them, took a careful sip from a cup of something, which Ogen hoped wasn't alcoholic. "Aye. Bad chythwyn comin'" He resumed aiming at Ogen's head.


Jyn't raised her rhyfle again and sighted down the barrel between Ogan's eyes. "So, we'd rather just took what was ours and left you breathin', but we can do this another way too. No credit bein' a dead hero for a few cases of Byrt's hootch, now is there?"

Ogan swallowed loudly. "Right lads! Let's get the truck unloaded and leave these nice folks alone."

*Dyna: a female quar.

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I hadn't set out to make a force of Partisans, but I saw the creative potential with the 3d printed civilian figures and the extra arms etc and couldn't help myself. The joy of 3d printing being you can have extra figures to mess about with. And if you cock it up, oh well. It's not nearly the risk as trying conversions with metal figures that cost you $4 or more.

So here they are, Faction number 3 for the Quar.

Byrt, with the harlech from the plastic frame, started as the farmer with beetle. He required a bit of surgery to reposition his arm so that the butt of the rhyfle rested on the ground. The other two males partisans are the mechanic with different arms. The submachine gun carried by the one with the pink hat comes from the Western Arnyaran set.

The two dynas are Western Arnyaran figures, and the first offical quar females. They have slightly wider hips and if they weren't obscured by their weapons, a slight bust under the coats. They also have larger eyes, which can be seen on the bareheaded one, Jyn't.

The Western Arnyaran helmet looks like a hat to me, held on with a ribbon. To make it even more hat like I added a feather made from paper glued to a length of brass wire and then glued into a hole drilled into the hat.

These were fun. With some of the men I've tried to suggest faded uniform colours on the hats, but otherwise keeping them very civilian. I even tried a plaid shirt on pink hat.

I'll wait until the plastic partisan set comes out before I expand the force. Until then I guess I might have to try the Rhyfler's Handbook skirmish rules which only require a few figures a side on a 2x2 area.

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