Rant and Roar

The rhyflers lining the rails on the cruiser looked in wide eyed alarm at the forbidding rocky coastline lashed by a heavy surf. It was a cold, forlorn place, far removed from the mangrove swamps and jungles they were used to.

Lukey spat a stream of tobacco juice into the sea. "Pashang beratna! Inna no gloamy warm here na? What for imma bossquar king send Gloamyquar here, ke pensa?"

Yawdryl Laf'ynt ignored him and looked at the rest. "Oi-ya gloamy-beratna. Alle inna skiffs, sa sa ke?"

With grunts and grumbles they shouldered their packs and clambered down the nets into the waiting launches.

Ryta was pegging out the wash. It was a fine day with a brisk breeze coming up the valley from the sea. Then she heard the bells.

Tymi came pounding up the path to her cottage. "Granny Ryta! Granny Ryta! It's the Rising Out!"

Tymi was bouncing with excitement. The bells usually called for aid if a barn was on fire or a fishing boat was foundering on the rocks, which were exciting enough. The Rising Out summoned all able bodied quar to gather underarms. "It's the Rising Out, Granny!"

Ryta carefully set her basket down. "Alright, alright,  young Tym. Now, you get the snegls further up the hillside. And I'll go to the bells." Tymi looked dejected as she went inside to get her Anaryan made submachine gun out of the umbrella stand.

Table from Gloam-Hynn edge

Table from Partisan edge

Ryta joined the rest in the lee of a cliff face. She and her life long friend Jyn't exchanged grim nods while the Old Syrnol divided the 14 quar into the fireteams that they had naturally grouped themselves into. He, Aelf, Ned, and Ryta conferred over a plan. No one knew if he really had been a Syrnol,  but he had come home from the Wars with a sword and enough cash to buy a big ocean going lobster boat and hired a crew. He was happy to organize things that needed organizing, like the annual village fete, and preside over the raucous council meetings, which used to end in punch-ups before his firm hand took the Chairquar's gavel. So for the most part, the quar of the valley were happy to leave him to it, as long as he didn't try organizing too much.

L-R: youth, Byrt, Jyn't (pink coat), Ryta 

Byrt, the poacher, with his long Harlech would head up the hill with a fine view down to the beaches. Ryta and Jyn't with one of OS' crew would cover the foot of the hill and hold the left flank. Byrt nodded, and slurpped noisily from a mug of his homebrew. 

"Now then, Byrt, make sure you ain't glass eyed. We need youse pottin' incomers" Ryta chided.

Byrt laughed. "Cinnae hit 'm if'n I kin see straight,  kin I?"

Aelf and his lads

Aelf and Ned with some young lads each would go right, either side of the biggest farm house. The Old Syrnol and two youth would be in the center.

The Old Syrnol 

Ned with his team

 

Yawdryl Laf'ynt leads his quar forward

Trackers with Sarf-Cyn. Eager to try these. Although I've learned I need to print the revised army lists. The rules for them have changed

Spending pluck on group moves and sprinting while behind cover, the partisans move into position. Byrt is prone on top of the big hill.

"Shysh! Wha's dat, me buckos?" Ned and his team spot Sarf-Cyn scuttling along the flank. 

"Away wi' ye!" Granny Jyn't takes up position behind the huvi pen and sends a lot of heavy suppressive fire down range. Her Anaryan made KEEGY rhyfle is basically a Ryshi; a heavy shoulder cannon that reduces cover. The leading Gloamers keep getting hit. They recover, only to be knocked down again.

The LMG starts chattering away to shoot the Sarf-Cyn down. 

"An' keep away from our huvis ye ancestorless brigands!" 

Gloamer advance is getting stuck around the small house

Lots of fire up and down the defile!

Patrolling past the big farmhouse just before he's knocked OOA with a shot from Byrt 

Aelf and the LMG gunner keep the center pinned down forcing the Gloamers to spend most of their actions on Tend Wounds

Granny Ryta has moved up to help Jyn't. Which is good because Jyn't's KEEGY jams and then she is rendered OOA. Ryta exacts a terrible revenge on the Gloamers 

A Gloamer (by the door) tries outflanking Ryta and is shot by Byrt.

"Stop bleeding sonny, you're nicked!" Learned you can't melee or dispatch OOA enemy. So they're made prisoner. Ned tries Tend Wound and rolls a '1'! Dead.

Byrt in his sniper perch

Aelf and the LMG secure the farmyard and put fire on the Trackers

Trackers move up, adding some fire to help the center

A lot of Gloamers are OOA

The Old Syrnol has charged forward, but gets knocked down by a shot from the Trackers 

With 2 cards left in turn 2 I called it. The Gloamers had 2 unwounded figures not OOA and they were too scattered to perform any Tend Wounds. I let the upright and walking wounded do Tend Wounds and retreat. Quar, being essentially decent folk, would cease fire and let the enemy carry their wounded away. Three Gloamers were unwounded, carrying one seriously wounded, and helping three wounded get back to the launches. The Partisans performed Tend Wound on those that were left. The Gloamers left behind three dead and three prisoners of war (one seriously wounded). For the Partisans one OOA recovered, the Old Syrnol had a minor wound, and Jyn't was seriously wounded.

For the Partisans I just pick 'n' mixed from the different army lists depending on what weapon they were carrying. Both sides came just a squint over 400 points which is a nice size to play with. The Gloamers could have used a musician though, who could do Tend Wound on everyone within 3" or something. Or the cook, who does the same but with a +1. They got most of their pluck from successful Tend Wound results, just to have the figure knocked OOA on the following Partisan card.

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Jyn't came too, her head in Ryta's lap while Aelf cleaned her head with some strong alcohol. "Ach! Don't fuss so!"

Ryta brushed her snout. "Stay calm chook. You've given us all a fright. An' why'd you have to take them all on by yerself, anyway?"

Jyn't settled back enjoying the care. "Ach! Someone had to dinnae they? Ouch! It stings! What's that? Your homebrew you're usin' on me is it?"

The Old Syrnol directed his crewquar to gather the dropped weapons and the dead, while a couple of lads directed some prisoners, carrying a wounded comrade, to the village hall. One of the escort started singing one of the songs they sung while hauling a catch out on the Deeps:

We'll rant and we'll roar like true Ergydwrans
We'll rant and we'll roar on deck and below
Until we strikes bottom inside the two sunkers
When straight through the channel to Toslow we'll go

Recognizing the tune, if perhaps the lyrics were different, the Gloamers joined in:

I'm a son of a sea cook, I'm a cook and a trader
I can dance, I can sing, I can reef the main boom
I can handle a jigger, I cuts a fine figure
Whenever I gets in a boat's standing room