Toulmorese Serial 2

Fr'yd sat in the shade created by the spreading branches of a Koolibah tree. He whistled an old folk song about a jolly bandit and his lover while tending the small fire and waiting for his billy-can to boil. The officers and the Master-Yawdryl would see to their own meals, but as a veteran campaigner, who was able to get a fire going and make a brew in a monsoon, Fr'yd would get the tea up for the other senior leaders in the combat team. 

It wasn't so bad being Quarter-Master Yawdryl for a Rhyfler battalion. His spots were too big and grey to be running around in the bush with a squad like the young bucks. Yeah, job's a good'un. Just like working at his family's store as a kit. Rotate the stock, make sure you had what the customers want. 

Except the customers were the rhyflers, and they wanted ammo, rations, and more ammo. Well, really they wanted beer, baccy, and dyna magazines, but they could buy that for themselves at the Rhyfler's Shop in the Base Camp.

And his store was on four legs. Here she was now, using her big boney head to push over a rotten tree trunk and her spikes to tear at it, revealing all the tasty crawlies inside. M'tylda was a Ganga; a big gentle beast that was good for jungle work. Their big feet were good in the muck, they were pretty good natured beasties, and they could eat a wide variety of insects. So keeping her fed was easy enough. 

He opened a package of corned moth and pulled his fork from his breast pocket, were it was safe beside his spoon, pipe, and baccy pouch. He'd just eaten the first mouthful when there was a familiar snuffling in his ear and a gentle bump to his shoulder as all four of M'tylda's pink tongues wiggled towards his ration pouch.

"Oi! Get off!" He laughed and pulled the pouch away.

M'tylda lumbered around to face him, quietly lowing, her head weaving.

Fr'yd got up, holding the corned moths above his head. He danced about, "is this what you want, girlie?" M'tylda danced back and forth, following the food.

Caerten J'yk Darby came along hoping the tea was ready. He laughed. "Whattya playin' at Fr'yd?"

"G'day Boss." He brought the pouch down so the beast of burden could slurp up some corned moth. "Just me an' M'tylda havin' a little waltz."

Quarter Master-Yawdryl Fr'yd and M'tylda

The Ganga Squidcow was originally from one of Joshua Qualtieri's other fantasy worlds, but he figured that they'd fit with the Quar too. And Quar sell better. 

I made M'tylda's cargo harness and a fewcrolls of tentage with Miliput, then stuck in extra printed packs and gear. There's a LMG assistant gunner pack, an ammo pack for a Spalgen, a Medic pack, a rucksack or two, and lots of the little ration boxes.

View of the QMYs pack, carrying all kinds of gear! 1 piece print with a head swap.

Master-Yawdryl with tactical mug. 

Medic

He firmly believes that a good cuppa cures what's ailing you.

He's got biscuits tucked in with the bandages, tourniquets, splints, and ibuprofen 

Two officers and a Ryshi gunner 

The officers are a 1 piece print but I got Don to swap the Crusader officer head with the Toulmorese hat in Blender before printing.

Squirrel handler tells his squirrel which way to go

H11 LMG team. Assistant gunner is carrying a spare barrel 

Assistant gunner on the right. Pack with another spare barrel and extra magazines.

Light mortar team. It's like the British 2" or the Japanese "knee" mortar. 

Mortarquar in firing position. No. 2 with ammunition pack

And if you don't believe the Medic that a good cuppa will cure whatever ails you, then just listen to this: