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So, the group convened this past Saturday for a most excellent repast prepared by my fiancee (BBQ ribs, BBQ chicken, potato salad, corn muffins, baked beans, and much more), after which we all battled the urge to slip into food comas so that we could engage in back-to-back games of Spinespur.
Unfortunately, I once again have no photos of the games, as they were taken by one of our group who has yet to share them. (sigh) However, this time around we tried using a combination of Necromunda and Mordheim as the rules system (since the Spinespur rules unfortunately did not go over within our group as well as the setting, characters, and models did). I had spent some time converting the characters over, and the games we played were 500- and 1,000-point, four-player affairs. (Turns out, 500-points worth of the converted characters is roughly the same as a standard force in Spinespur.)
I was too close to a vegetative state at the time to allow me to recall the exact details of the first game, but suffice to say that I was utterly annihilated by my opposition, losing my entire force (Pigskin, a trio of shacklers, and a gormie) to combat losses. Oh, I was also the first player removed from that game - and the only one to not score a victory point. It ended up being a three-way tie, with only one loser: yours truly. (The scenario required each force to eliminate as many of the opposing forces' leaders as possible. My opponents each successfully killed off a single force leader, whereas I failed to do so.)
The scenario for the second game involved four forces scouring terrain features for the keys to Mr. Jingles' pink Caddy. We determined that he'd parked his car in front of "The Pig Pen" (a Slaughterhouse-run dive) where he was scheduled to deliver valuable goods locked in the trunk to Pigskin and his cronies. Unfortunately, he'd wandered off in a highly inebriated state to, erm, relieve himself - and proceeded to misplace his keys. ("Mighta' left 'em under that tree... or was it behind that scarecrow? Shit, I don't remember...")
I had a solid force, but on my right flank was my fiancee's Dark Faith army - she had availed herself of a soon-to-be-rectified loophole that allowed her to field a lot of low-cost models. Her force was easily twice the size of the next largest force on the board - and most of these were the rough equivalent of Necromundan plague zombies, which are not particularly deadly but are extremely hard to put down.
I was undone by two events:
First, I made a gambit on my right to decapitate the Dark Faith leadership by rushing Pigskin and "Maw's Boys" (a pair of shacklers) at the Anti-pope who had surrounded himself with a retinue of zombies. The plan was simple: All I had to do was use the Boys to draw out a pair of zombies with their hooked chains, then Pigskin could do the same against the Anti-pope himself. Well, the Boys did their part, but - of course - when it came to Pigskin's attack, the dice betrayed me. (I know: "Quelle surprise!") This betrayal left my right-most units completely exposed and at the mercy of a force with significantly superior numbers.
The second part of my undoing was when the other half of my force (led by a custom character known as "The Abominable Shitman") encountered the enemy on my left: an Orphanage force supported by molotov-wielding thugs. Three molotovs were thrown at my men: one hit, but did little damage and ignited nobody; the other two deviated. Yay! Er, no, I celebrated too soon - the second deviation dropped the molotov right where the player had wanted it: on top of the Shitman, who spent the rest of the game taking wounds and running around - aflame - at the rear of the battle.
In the end, Pigskin and Jingles, being pincered between a bunch of zombies and psychotic children - and alone, except for the wandering pile of flaming shit - said "Screw this!" and (reluctantly) beat out the flames on their fecal comrade and made a run for the hills. My only consolation is that neither the Orphanage nor the Anti-pope found the keys. That distinction went to the Men of G.O.D., who never ventured more than 8" onto the table; they discovered the keys in the corn field immediately in front of them and made it off the table after only a tiny scuffle with a fraction the Orphanage crew.
All in all, the game played much more smoothly with the Necromunda/Mordheim rules. It still needs a few tweaks, but I think it's going to be a regular game for our group - at least for the foreseeable future.
As for my failure to achieve victory, I blame it on a deadly combination of gluttony and disloyal dice...
Unfortunately, I once again have no photos of the games, as they were taken by one of our group who has yet to share them. (sigh) However, this time around we tried using a combination of Necromunda and Mordheim as the rules system (since the Spinespur rules unfortunately did not go over within our group as well as the setting, characters, and models did). I had spent some time converting the characters over, and the games we played were 500- and 1,000-point, four-player affairs. (Turns out, 500-points worth of the converted characters is roughly the same as a standard force in Spinespur.)
I was too close to a vegetative state at the time to allow me to recall the exact details of the first game, but suffice to say that I was utterly annihilated by my opposition, losing my entire force (Pigskin, a trio of shacklers, and a gormie) to combat losses. Oh, I was also the first player removed from that game - and the only one to not score a victory point. It ended up being a three-way tie, with only one loser: yours truly. (The scenario required each force to eliminate as many of the opposing forces' leaders as possible. My opponents each successfully killed off a single force leader, whereas I failed to do so.)
The scenario for the second game involved four forces scouring terrain features for the keys to Mr. Jingles' pink Caddy. We determined that he'd parked his car in front of "The Pig Pen" (a Slaughterhouse-run dive) where he was scheduled to deliver valuable goods locked in the trunk to Pigskin and his cronies. Unfortunately, he'd wandered off in a highly inebriated state to, erm, relieve himself - and proceeded to misplace his keys. ("Mighta' left 'em under that tree... or was it behind that scarecrow? Shit, I don't remember...")
I had a solid force, but on my right flank was my fiancee's Dark Faith army - she had availed herself of a soon-to-be-rectified loophole that allowed her to field a lot of low-cost models. Her force was easily twice the size of the next largest force on the board - and most of these were the rough equivalent of Necromundan plague zombies, which are not particularly deadly but are extremely hard to put down.
I was undone by two events:
First, I made a gambit on my right to decapitate the Dark Faith leadership by rushing Pigskin and "Maw's Boys" (a pair of shacklers) at the Anti-pope who had surrounded himself with a retinue of zombies. The plan was simple: All I had to do was use the Boys to draw out a pair of zombies with their hooked chains, then Pigskin could do the same against the Anti-pope himself. Well, the Boys did their part, but - of course - when it came to Pigskin's attack, the dice betrayed me. (I know: "Quelle surprise!") This betrayal left my right-most units completely exposed and at the mercy of a force with significantly superior numbers.
The second part of my undoing was when the other half of my force (led by a custom character known as "The Abominable Shitman") encountered the enemy on my left: an Orphanage force supported by molotov-wielding thugs. Three molotovs were thrown at my men: one hit, but did little damage and ignited nobody; the other two deviated. Yay! Er, no, I celebrated too soon - the second deviation dropped the molotov right where the player had wanted it: on top of the Shitman, who spent the rest of the game taking wounds and running around - aflame - at the rear of the battle.
In the end, Pigskin and Jingles, being pincered between a bunch of zombies and psychotic children - and alone, except for the wandering pile of flaming shit - said "Screw this!" and (reluctantly) beat out the flames on their fecal comrade and made a run for the hills. My only consolation is that neither the Orphanage nor the Anti-pope found the keys. That distinction went to the Men of G.O.D., who never ventured more than 8" onto the table; they discovered the keys in the corn field immediately in front of them and made it off the table after only a tiny scuffle with a fraction the Orphanage crew.
All in all, the game played much more smoothly with the Necromunda/Mordheim rules. It still needs a few tweaks, but I think it's going to be a regular game for our group - at least for the foreseeable future.
As for my failure to achieve victory, I blame it on a deadly combination of gluttony and disloyal dice...
.............................................................................
A Hard Won Thing Scoreboard:
0 wins / 1 draw / 6 losses
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0 wins / 1 draw / 6 losses
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